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[Aleksi Jacobs.]

Why was he in the skate park? He didn’t skateboard, that was for damn sure. So.. why was he there? Even he didn’t know. But he was there, leaning up against a cement wall, one arm across his stomach, the other bent so that the arm across his stomach clutched his elbow. A cigarette was resting between the fingers of his left hand, of which he referred back to every so often. Actually, he was hardly paying attention to the smoke-spewing cancer stick, he was more interested in watching the skaters, both those who could actually do something and those who fell flat on their faces. Don’t get me wrong, he hated seeing people in pain, but it was funny seeing people who weren’t meant to be skaters, trying to skateboard. That’s why he didn’t skateboard, for God’s sake.

Aleksi’s face was emotionless, except for the amused smirk that crossed his face every so often as he watched the skateboarders. There weren’t many there, since the time was rather late, being around 6.30 pm. Okay, so it wasn’t that late, but to some people it was. A nonchalant shrug sent one of his shoulders rolling back as he moved slightly to force the ashes off the end of the cigarette. He’d not even taken two drags off of it, and it had already burned down, a lot. Putting his arm down and smashing the tip of the cigarette against the cement wall to put it out before letting it drop to the ground, he sighed. He hated littering, but there was no where else.

The earphones in his ears were brand new – yeah, he’d gotten ride of the old pair after breaking down and buying new ones. So, now, he could actually hear the song playing, which happened to be ‘Silver and Cold’ by AFI, one hell of a good band. His mp3 was where it always was – in his front left pocket, with the cord from the earphones winding up and somewhat tangled. How? Because, though he’d only had them for less than a day, and yet he’d almost broken them already. Yeah, he was that talented with breaking the stuff he owned. It was a wonder Warlocke was still alive, with how many times Aleksi had accidentally dropped him, and it was also a wonder that his guitar was still in excellent condition. Maybe it was just because they were the only things he even halfway cared about, in his house, anyway. He didn’t know, and didn’t really want to think about that at this moment. Blinking, he shook his head, biting his lower lip in a slightly paranoid worry.

Aleksi flicked his hair out of his eyes, the black strands becoming an ever growing annoyance on his part. However, it wasn’t like he’d ever cut it, unless it was to get the split ends off, because, face it, the boy loves his hair. Get used to it. Out of nowhere, he ran a hand through his hair, one of the earphones falling. “Figures.” He said, rolling his eyes momentarily before grabbing the other earphone, the one that hadn’t fell, and pulling his mp3 out of his pocket. Turning it off, he wrapped the cord around it before putting the device back in his pocket, pushing off of the wall before starting toward out for the front gate of the skate park.

Aleksi wasn’t even sure why he’d went there in the first place, but he had. So it didn’t really matter now, nor had it ever, because he was planning on leaving, or finding something else to entertain himself with. Which wouldn’t be that hard, seeing as how he’d always been easily amused. He rolled his eyes at his own stupidity and slowed his strides, not particularly bent on finding his way out of the skate park just yet. He shoved his hands into his pockets after pulling the rim of his My Chemical Romance tee shirt down over the waistline of his jeans. Bored much?

[Pandora Hazel Lennox]

Not a skater. No, no, no. Defiantly not a skater. It took courage, being able to laugh at yourself, skill, and everything she was not. Pandora Hazel Lennox had accepted the fact that she could not skate or be as outgoing as they were. That's why she came here to put them into her art work.

This twenty year old was only outgoing and friendly when spoken to, and until that moment, she would keep to herself like a little hermit crab. Only under special cases would she break out of her shell first. Sometimes that was required if you wanted to know someone badly enough.

Walking along the sidewalk of the park, she looked around the familiar surroundings. This place... she was really here more and more each day. It would be her place to do her art; something she loved. If her muse was found here, why ignore it?

Letting out a sigh, Pandora grabbed the one side of her zip up hoodie with her free hand and pulled it closer. Today it was a black hoodie with one of her many classic snug white t-shirts. She only had one hand free because the other was holding her second large drawing pad, this one for art.

While at college, she took many classes. Sociology, psychology, pencil art, symphony, and a biology class. Today she would finish an assignment her teacher gave her; dreams.

Very vague, it was an almost endless subject. Students could draw something they'd dreamed, a dream they had for their future, something they wanted that was out of their grasp. It would be a beautiful day to see all the drawings her peers had created.

Reaching the skate park, Pandora would draw the people skating. She wished she could have that kind of guts, that kind of... persona that they gave off. It was something out of her reach and she'd always admired that kind of people for it. Maybe her sheltered lifestyle had something to do it with...

Passing a boy in a My Chemical Romance t-shirt, she looked over the shirt. Without really thinking, Pandora said, "That's a good band," and just kept going on her way to draw the people skating.

Not even realizing she'd said anything until she was a good twenty feet away, she mentally smacked herself. Well, that was pretty idiotic, just comment and leave, she thought. Smooth one Pandora. Smooth.

Sighing, she just went on her way to a half-pipe to watch the people skating. She sat on the ground; good thing her hip hugger flares were dark today. The dirt wouldn't show up. Flipping the pad open to about a quarter of the way into the book, she took out her pencil and began to draw the people skating. Every now and then, she'd glance back to the boy in the t-shirt just to see his reaction and if he was still there.