Do I Bother You? (Quint)
Oct 14, 2009 20:39:37 GMT -5
Post by Gorim on Oct 14, 2009 20:39:37 GMT -5
The twins sat in the studio lobby, making a bit of a striking sight. While different to the point of being a study in contrasts, their faces were exactly the same. Superficially, they were alike, identical in fact, but for a few differences.
Robert, or Bob as he preferred to be called, had strawberry-blonde hair (bleached), styled into spikes, and wore jeans with a white t-shirt and a blue shirt over that. His feet were perched on the table and he was leaned back incredibly far, teetering the chair to its breaking point, listening to music with his iPod.
Next to him sat Michael, or Mike. His dark hair (natural) was simply combed with no styling, and he wore clothing reminicisent of a car salesman. Khakis, white t-shirt, open-collar. He was writing in a musical notepad, humming the tune of the song to himself. He blinked as his older brother turned up the volume on his rock music and looked up, tapping Bob's hand with his pen, leaving a mark. Bob looked over at him.
"What?" He asked irritably.
"Your music is.. um... Kind of..." he gestured towards his music, and Bob's expression cleared in understanding.
"Oh, sorry," he said casually, turning off his music and leaning forward, allowing the chair to relax on four legs once more. His eyes fell on the mark that Mike had left on the back of his hand and glared at his little brother. He began rubbing at his skin furiously with his t-shirt, as his little brother watched, amused.
Robert, or Bob as he preferred to be called, had strawberry-blonde hair (bleached), styled into spikes, and wore jeans with a white t-shirt and a blue shirt over that. His feet were perched on the table and he was leaned back incredibly far, teetering the chair to its breaking point, listening to music with his iPod.
Next to him sat Michael, or Mike. His dark hair (natural) was simply combed with no styling, and he wore clothing reminicisent of a car salesman. Khakis, white t-shirt, open-collar. He was writing in a musical notepad, humming the tune of the song to himself. He blinked as his older brother turned up the volume on his rock music and looked up, tapping Bob's hand with his pen, leaving a mark. Bob looked over at him.
"What?" He asked irritably.
"Your music is.. um... Kind of..." he gestured towards his music, and Bob's expression cleared in understanding.
"Oh, sorry," he said casually, turning off his music and leaning forward, allowing the chair to relax on four legs once more. His eyes fell on the mark that Mike had left on the back of his hand and glared at his little brother. He began rubbing at his skin furiously with his t-shirt, as his little brother watched, amused.
