New Beginnings [Ferris & Tracy]
Jul 8, 2013 15:15:41 GMT -5
Post by Devon Wentsworth on Jul 8, 2013 15:15:41 GMT -5
When the van had been dropped off at his temporary apartment block Devon had known he wasn't going to get along with the cheerless hunk of metal. Everything was wrong. It was far bigger than his old Renault Clio, there was no gear stick and the readouts were all in the wrong places. Hell, he was sat on the wrong side of the van while driving on the wrong side of the road! His UK license covered him driving State-side for twelve months but he wanted to apply for an American license sooner rather than later. From the moment he pulled away from the pavement, after getting help from one of the other occupants of the apartment block to load all his crap into the van, he knew he'd have to take some lessons before he went for his US test.
At one point on the drive over to his new house Devon had braved taking the van up to 60. It was more terrifying (and yet also more thrilling) than any white-knuckle roller coaster he'd ever been on.
When Ferris had emailed the information about the empty town-house to him, Devon had booked a viewing and ended up making an offer on it within a few days. It was badly in need of redecorating and had clearly been empty for some time, cheerless and lacking energy, and yet Devon had fallen instantly in love with it. It was vast compared to anything he'd ever lived in before, and he knew that with a little time and work it would be absolutely perfect for him. A plenty large enough basement could be soundproofed easily for his eventual drum kit, and the bigger, lighter bedroom would be a perfect studio. Between the length of time it had been on the market, the general unloved state of the place and the fact it would be being bought outright without a mortgage, he'd managed to secure a good deal on it. Of course, he liked to think his charm and accent had helped swing the deal in his favour. Either way, there was no going back now.
Pulling up outsidethe his house and killing the engine, Devon spent a few long minutes just sat staring at the building. His building. His bachelor pad. No, that made it sound desperately lonely.
He eventually got out of the van and went across to the other side of the street, using his mobile to take a picture of the house about to be moved into, before returning to the van and opening up the loading door before removing one of the boxes.
Jesus Christ that's heavy! Devon quickly put the box down on the pavement, glaring at it menacingly. It must have been one of the boxes his previous neighbour had shifted down to the van for him, because there was no way Devon was carrying it any distance on his own. Still eyeing it evilly, Devon retrieved one of the lighter bags from the van and proceeded to use his feet to shove the offending box across the ground towards the front door. He might have been blessed with the build of a runner, but he had all the muscle tone of a soggy trifle.
At one point on the drive over to his new house Devon had braved taking the van up to 60. It was more terrifying (and yet also more thrilling) than any white-knuckle roller coaster he'd ever been on.
When Ferris had emailed the information about the empty town-house to him, Devon had booked a viewing and ended up making an offer on it within a few days. It was badly in need of redecorating and had clearly been empty for some time, cheerless and lacking energy, and yet Devon had fallen instantly in love with it. It was vast compared to anything he'd ever lived in before, and he knew that with a little time and work it would be absolutely perfect for him. A plenty large enough basement could be soundproofed easily for his eventual drum kit, and the bigger, lighter bedroom would be a perfect studio. Between the length of time it had been on the market, the general unloved state of the place and the fact it would be being bought outright without a mortgage, he'd managed to secure a good deal on it. Of course, he liked to think his charm and accent had helped swing the deal in his favour. Either way, there was no going back now.
Pulling up outside
He eventually got out of the van and went across to the other side of the street, using his mobile to take a picture of the house about to be moved into, before returning to the van and opening up the loading door before removing one of the boxes.
Jesus Christ that's heavy! Devon quickly put the box down on the pavement, glaring at it menacingly. It must have been one of the boxes his previous neighbour had shifted down to the van for him, because there was no way Devon was carrying it any distance on his own. Still eyeing it evilly, Devon retrieved one of the lighter bags from the van and proceeded to use his feet to shove the offending box across the ground towards the front door. He might have been blessed with the build of a runner, but he had all the muscle tone of a soggy trifle.
