Windward Dreams • •

[Tristan Derek Halbert]

When Tristan had awoken that morning to the sun peeking through his window, he knew it would be a good day. After a quick shower and a cup of coffee had really woken him up, he checked his emails and his phone to see if he had anything to do in the office today. With school out for the summer, it was becoming pretty common for his dad to contact him either last thing at night or first thing in the morning with a quick request for his only son. Tristan didn’t mind running in to the New York branch to check on things or fill in for someone who had finally managed to go on the cruise they had spent all year talking about and longing for. He had worked for the company in a pretty good position for a few years after his accident and would probably return to it one day, rather than flitting in and out with demands from “the boss”. It was all silent on that front, though, and Tristan found himself with a day to do whatever he pleased, and it was a lovely day, too.

Living in New York, it was nearly impossible to be bored. As far as Tristan was concerned there was always something, somewhere to do. After taking the giant dogs he called his pets for their morning walks, he returned them to the apartment building, smirking at the pair of them flopped on their respective beds and gave their usual signs of exhaustion for at least an hour or two. Tristan knew they’d be jumping all over him before the evening came to go out again, but he had plenty of time to himself before that. He grabbed his camera case after checking everything he wanted was inside and then made one detour to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator before he locked up and left again.

Central Park was amazing, no matter the time of year. Tristan already had too many shots of most of it, but he still didn’t get bored of being there, camera raised. It wasn’t like he was setting out to catch anything in particular, but Tristan had already been on too many walks where he regretted not having his camera on him. He was lost in his thoughts, just strolling along and pausing to snap away from time to time. He just kept going, letting his legs pick the direction without too much thought as to where he might end up by the end of it. His eyes scanned the view and then he brought his camera back up to his face, trying to line up the shot just the way he wanted it. He couldn’t quite fit everything in, so he backed up and checked again. It still didn’t sit right with him, so without glancing over his shoulder, Tristan took another few steps back, just lining everything up perfectly when his heel collided with something and tripped him up. His grip remained on his camera, but he landed hard on the ground, the grass not enough to break his fall. Grimacing and groaning, Tristan’s hand instantly went to the bottom of his back to try and rub away the pain of falling so suddenly. Realising he must’ve tripped over someone’s belongings he looked up and held his hand up in apology. “Sorry, sorry.”

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• • •

TAGGED! Open <3
WORDS! 604!
OUTFIT! Camera Cutie!
LYRICS! Antarctica - - - Hands Like Houses
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Viktoria Tamsin Cross]

Dancing on stage, becoming a choreographer had always been where Tori’s heart led her. As much as she loved the ocean and wanted to preserve it for generations to come, dance had helped her through so much as a child. Her life before New York consisted of surfing as the sun came up with her brother, going to school when she had it or work at her father’s offices and dance classes filling the rest of her time. She ate on the run, barely had time for the few friends she did manage to have and slept with exhaustion took hold at the end of the day. When she was old enough, she exchanged a few of the work hours for audition hours, rehearsal hours and performance hours. And aside from the scenery changing on Tori, that was still her day to day now for summers at least. Now, it meant an overload in hours at Planet Hollywood, working around her auditions and callback’s because her boss was incredible. She already had four auditions that week and two had callback’s for the following week. Tori didn’t expect to get an ensemble role her first try out but at least she tried. She put herself out there so much and even those two callback’s, even if they didn’t lead anywhere, were good news for the willowy Australian.

She had another audition later that afternoon, but she was taking some time at the park to practice her choreographed piece. She would have done as much in her own apartment but when it came to auditions, she preferred the feeling of an audience; even if they weren’t even looking at her. So after her morning workout and Maxwell’s walk, Tori filled her bottle with water, made sure her bag held her iPod and headphones, wallet and everything else she would need for the audition since she was running right there after her practice. It was crazy how much a dancer needed to carry with them. And it only got worse when they were part of a show. She had a few titles under her belt and the things she soon realised she should have had on her after at her first rehearsal. She learned quickly though to have doubles of everything.

This was just simply an audition though, she didn’t bring along the big bag she had stashed away in the cupboard but a smaller one that had the important pieces. She grabbed a coffee from the Starbucks at the corner of her street and finished it in time to toss it into the first trash bin past the entrance to the park. She walked a little further in, finding somewhere a little more out of the foot traffic and dropped her things before sitting and retying her shoes. With that out of the way, she pulled her iPod free, made sure her water was within easy reach and stretched out her limbs a little more than the exercise already had. Lining up the song she’d chosen, Tori went through it three times before letting the next song just play through while she stretched again. She turned to get her water when she noticed the guy. She barely managed to pull her headphones free and open her mouth to say “watch out” and he was on the ground, sprawled there because of her things. She rushed to this guy’s side, concerned her things may have thrown his back or something. “No, no, don’t apologise,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s my fault, really. I shouldn’t have left it all laying around like that.”

Tag || Tristan!
Words || 600
Clothes || To come!
Lyrics || One Way Ticket -- Carrie Underwoodd
Notes || <3

[Tristan Derek Halbert]

Tristan’s future was secure. He was planning on returning to the A&R department at some point, even if he explored other avenues first. As a little kid he had loathed how much time the music industry took up in his father’s life, but he had grown to love it just as much. He wanted to see what else was out there first, which was why his second attempt at college saw him doing courses he enjoyed rather than practical ones. If he found a job with either journalism or photography then it would be great, but he also wanted to keep his feet in the door of the record company. For now, with the summer, he had more hours to spend on that focus. Tristan tended to not make a big deal out of that side of his life. He had never enjoyed the attention that came with people recognising his father’s name, people instantly believing that there was a chance of free concert tickets or access to big showbiz parties. Tristan did have that power, but he kept those treats for the people he really did call his friends, though he only flashed that hand every now and then. For the most part, he only revealed his position, the company and what he could do if an act at an open mic night caught his attention. Even then it was only a subtle handing over of a business card after a quiet introduction and brief conversation.

He hadn’t put in his usual dedication to those nights yet, but he was still making the most of his “vacation time”. He doubted there would be much time to himself in a few more weeks. If someone was taking their own vacation he was often their fill-in and he would probably be called back to Austin and LA at some point to do some work and catch some relaxation time with his parents. Tristan liked to keep busy. After the accident he found that there was nothing more frustrating than having nothing to do. Those weeks of recovery had left him hating television marathons and hours of just sitting around. Even if he only went swimming in the pool of his apartment complex or for a walk in Central Park, he had to do something. He’d never be too overly active, but he couldn’t bring himself to have a lazy day, not even if he was feeling pretty rough and his limp was out to play.

Tristan wasn’t a clumsy guy by nature and usually he did have a better idea of where he was moving. His biggest problem in life had been low door frames, but the towering man had grown used to them several years ago after they had first started clipping him over the head whenever he wasn’t careful. Sitting there on the ground, Tristan needed a moment to recover from the slight embarrassment of his own oblivious moment and from the ache in his lower back. “No, no, I shouldn’t have been walking backwards, or I should have at least checked behind me first.”

[/color] He said, looking around to make sure he hadn’t crushed or damaged any of the girl’s belongings as he came crashing down. Glancing back up at the view he was trying to take a photo of when the incident happened, he paused for a moment, considering what he saw and then raised the camera again, snapping a shot and then letting out a small, surprised laugh. “What d’ya know? It’s actually better from down here.”[/color] He said, more to himself before remembering that there was someone else around. Gingerly, Tristan pushed himself back up to his feet, making sure that everything felt right as he did so. There was a dull ache in his back still, but he could stand and moving didn’t cause any more discomfort. “I’ll be feeling that in the morning.”[/color] He mumbled, glancing back down at where he had fallen. “I didn’t break anything, did I? If I did, I’m totally going to pay to replace it.”[/color] He already felt bad for falling like he did when a little self-awareness probably would have prevented it in the first place.
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• • •

TAGGED! Tori! <3
WORDS! 703!
OUTFIT! Camera Cutie!
LYRICS! Antarctica - - - Hands Like Houses
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Viktoria Tamsin Cross]

Tori found it peaceful in the park, even when the place was packed and there was barely any room to move around. Those days she spent sitting around in the grass, listening to her music and trying to pick new pieces to use for auditions. She was hardly a triple threat but with acting classes and the vocal classes she was taking on the weekends and the workshops through the school during the summer, she was getting what she needed. She was a dancer with hopes of becoming a choreographer. Her aspirations weren’t for center stage or to be some leading lady, they were more behind the scenes than that. But the only way she was ever going to get there were classes and training, even if she never wanted to sing, or act; as much as she did enjoy them. She put a lot of work into her dance career; she didn’t want to mess that up even if she had a back-up plan in place.

The young dancer felt she needed to stay busy or she might miss something. Tori was always rushing about the city going to this or doing that; a little in case she was ‘discovered’ and a lot because she really did just love what she did. “So we’ll take equal blame and be done with it,” she said, smiling, leaning back on her heels next to this strange man and watching as he looked around at her scattered things. Her only real concern was her audition CD being busted. She still had her iPod if it was broken, but it was so much easier with a disc. Tori’s eyes narrowed and her brows furrowed in confusion as she looked towards the same way as this man. “What is?” she asked before standing up again as he did. She was a pretty decent height for a dancer at five and a half feet but this man had to have a good foot on her. “Whoa,” she said accidentally, biting her tongue the second the word registered with her brain.

Tori bent at the waist, snatching up her water bottle and holding it out. The ice she’d tossed in there was still a good size even though she’d left her apartment quite some time ago. “Put it where you fell. It’ll help with the bruising,” she said matter-of-factly. If she had white vinegar and some cotton balls, she’d use the tried and true old school remedy; but for that there really needed to be a bruise already and this one wouldn’t appear until later, if there would be one at all. So now it was all about stopping it before it started. Tori looked over her things and shrugged her shoulder lightly. “It’s all fine, don’t worry. If there is something broken, it can easily be replaced,” she said, smiling up at this very tall man. “I’m Tori,” she added, stretching out her hand in his direction.

Tag || Tristan!
Words || 492
Clothes || To come!
Lyrics || One Way Ticket -- Carrie Underwoodd
Notes || <3

[Tristan Derek Halbert]

Ever since he was young, Tristan had enjoyed walking. It had come long before he picked up a camera. It helped him clear his head of worries and doubts and allowed him to burn off some of his frustrations that had come during his youth. Parks, woods and good hikes had often been a part of his life wherever he was and his vacations, when he took them, did centre on the local scenery and walking possibilities. The photography came as a hobby to preserve some of the things he had seen and even now it was more of a pastime than something he would consider as a career for himself. The accident and being unable to walk and appreciate the nature around him had definitely tested him. Since regaining his mobility, he had only come to enjoy it more and get out of his apartment at every opportunity since then. He had even taken to moving meetings to the Boathouse Café or other venues that they could walk to. Not only was it fresher than the A/C in the office building, but there was a more relaxed environment in the park than seated around a large table in office chairs that kept everything oh-so serious even when it didn’t have to be.

He still felt as though he was to blame, but his time between college and working at the company had taught him that arguing rarely led to a positive outcome. Negotiation and compromise usually got things done quicker and on friendlier terms. Plus, he wasn’t one for fighting and usually felt terrible whenever a bad mood or short temper had led to him snapping unnecessarily. “Shared blame it is then.”

[/color] He said with a small, slightly lopsided smile. Turning his head to glance at her, he nodded his head at the image that had caught his eye in the first place and then gestured at it with his camera, as though to emphasise his point. “The shot I was trying to capture when I fell.”[/color] He grinned awkwardly, still sounding a little apologetic for the accident. It probably wasn’t the photograph of a lifetime, but he had liked it and this was just something for himself rather than a project for college or for something else important. He heard the single word come from her, but he didn’t know what had caused her to speak, so he glanced over at her with his eyebrows raised towards his hairline. Then, he glanced around him, instantly thinking that he must’ve done damage to something. Tristan ought to have been used to people being surprised by, or commenting on, his height, but oddly enough it still wasn’t one of the first things his mind hopped to when people looked at him.

“Thanks.”[/color] He accepted the ice to be polite, rather than out of necessity. It wasn’t the bruising he was worried about. Ever since the fall during the construction of the New York office, Tristan had become slightly paranoid about every fall he had, even the small ones. There was a part of him that was terrified something would happen and his mobility would be compromised again. Luckily, he didn’t fall like that often enough for it to become a daily fear. Running his fingers through his hair, Tristan held out his opposite hand to Tori and smiled warmly as he shook hers with a firm grip. “I’m Tristan, and I’m not usually such a klutz.”[/color] He chuckled, releasing her hand and then handing her the ice back. He’d only forget otherwise.
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• • •

TAGGED! Tori! <3
WORDS! 596!
OUTFIT! Camera Cutie!
LYRICS! Antarctica - - - Hands Like Houses
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Viktoria Tamsin Cross]

Tori had been planning on leaving Australia since she started high school. Before then she’d gone to the best private school money could buy but things changed and she had to go to another school though money hadn’t been the issue. It wasn’t that much of a sad thing for her since there weren’t many people at the school she was friends with, only a couple but the new school had been horrible. She had heard time and time again that people loved rich girls and though she did not act like one of those snobby stuck up rich girls, she still had money. Too bad no one told her that the opposite could happen as well. She hadn’t tried to step on any toes but it also seemed like she couldn’t do anything right at that school so she kept her head down and just pushed through those years until she was free from the place. Plus, she had her dancing and spent most of her time when she wasn’t at school at the dance studio practicing and even teaching a couple of the beginner classes.

“Easier than a ridiculous fight, don’t you think?” She asked, grinning. Her father worked every day of his life making compromises. And she’d learned a thing or two. She could let this man take all the blame, but he wouldn’t have tripped if she hadn’t left her things where she dropped them; even if he wasn’t actually paying much attention to where he was going. And her parents had taught her better than to push blame on someone when she was equally at fault. It occasionally led to bigger arguments but Tori just waved those off. And in those cases it was usually men feeling like because they were men they had no choice but to shoulder the blame. Tori turned her head in the direction of the shot, taking in the pretty view. That view was part of the reason she practiced at the park before a big audition. The scenery and space around her calmed her and centered her. She felt like she could take on the world after going a few turns of her choreographed work before taking it to the stage and the casting table. “Gorgeous.” Tori agreed, nodding her head.

“Don’t mention it, really. It’s the least I could do.” Tori had seen some pretty epic falls living on the stage. There had been only a couple missed steps that landed good dancers in the orchestra space since she moved to New York but back in Australia it was quite a few more. It seemed like the theatre she worked in was cursed or something. Every show the theatre put on had at least one accident happen. It was starting to be almost normal for that theatre. And that was never good. “Pleasure, Tristan.” Tori said smiling up at the much taller man. “I’m so sorry, my parents taught me manners, but god you’re tall.” Tori blurted out once she had shaken herself out of the slight trance she was in, a light blush settling on her cheeks for being so forward; her parents taught her better than that, too. It’s a shame that lesson hadn’t stuck, it could have come in handy more than once.

Tag || Tristan!
Words || 548
Clothes || Beautiful Ballerina!
Lyrics || One Way Ticket -- Carrie Underwoodd
Notes || <3

[Tristan Derek Halbert]

Tristan had always been given the best growing up. It hadn’t been easier being his father’s son and having everyone know his connections, some even trying to use him for it. However, despite a few lingering issues in the back of his mind about his earlier years, Tristan really had no reason to complain. He had gone to a good school, been given expensive gifts and had seen a lot of the world. His years in Austin included summers in LA and then vacations all over the globe. He had met people others only ever dreamt of meeting and now he worked with some of them, although he was focusing more on his studies for the time being. His job would always be secure at the company, but never completing college because of his accident had been something that had bothered him from the start and he had to address it before he could move on with his life and embrace his future. Whatever it may be.

Shifting his weight from leg to leg, Tristan shrugged. “No need for a fight at all, really.”

[/color] He said with an easy smile. He wasn’t the aggressive sort at all, especially not over the little things. If there had been damages he would pay and accept the blame, but he would never be one of those New Yorkers who stood shouting in the street because someone spilt coffee on him in their hurry. Really, what was the point in wasting time and worsening an already foul mood? He negotiated as part of his job and occasionally had to deal with difficult artists, so he knew when to back down and how to let things go right over his head. Taking things too personally would be the downfall of everyone in the music industry, even the people who operated behind the curtains. “And deadly, apparently.”[/color] He joked lightly, referencing the fact that it had been the view that had essentially caused him to trip over her belongings in the first place.

Another easy smile and Tristan shifted his weight again, just checking to see if there was any noticeable pulls or aches in his back. Luckily, he felt nothing more than the fading throb that usually came with falling the way he did. At least he would probably be spared a trip to the doctors; he had seen enough of them to last him a lifetime! He laughed warmly at her observation of his height and ran his fingers through his hair. His mom would nag him if she saw how long it was getting, but Tristan had no desire to cut it. “Yeah, most doorways are my kryptonite.”[/color] It wasn’t all that bad, but he still found himself nearly knocking himself out cold in some places because he didn’t duck in time. He was taller than both of his parents and most other people he met. It was probably one of the most obvious things about him and yet he still found himself caught off guard when people mentioned it to him.
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• • •

TAGGED! Open <3
WORDS! 512!
OUTFIT! Camera Cutie!
LYRICS! Antarctica - - - Hands Like Houses
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Viktoria Tamsin Cross]

As much as Tori loved Australia, she only wished she could have had a better time in high school. She had wanted for nothing, even though she worked for everything she’d ever gotten. Her father may have come from money, but her mother hadn’t and both knew what it was like to work hard to get to where they were. Her mother had to put herself through medical school, and both had tried to instill the same traits in their children. It couldn’t be said for all of them but at least two of three understood what it meant to earn what they had through hard work. Tori and her older brother would pick up the odd job here and there with their father’s company to earn money for what they wanted when they were older. Her brother stayed on more often but for Tori, dance was her life and when she needed something for her classes, like a new costume, she would put in some hours until she’d raised enough for it and that way she didn’t have to ask her parents for anything.

Her drive was what brought her to New York. “Exactly! And there were no broken bones so all is well.” Tori added, grinning. These days she didn’t let the little things get her down. It was different in high school, she hadn’t figured out how to hide how she felt but she knew better now and she found she was faking less smiles. Of course, with her busy schedule, she had no time to give many people a second thought anymore. She was a double major, had a fulltime job and she took dance classes while she ran around the city chasing audition after audition and only landing a half dozen in the four dozen she’d gone to. The work was good, she loved it but once a show was over, it was like the cycle started all over again and she was back to square one. At least she could say she had a variety of roles under her belt just not the elusive lead. “All the best views are.” She agreed. “Of course, most of those are at the tops of cliffs or a few dozen or so feet under the water so...” She added, letting the words die off in a teasing tone.

“I’d definitely put money on that.” She said, blinking. Tori really had been raised with manners but she couldn’t help noticing how tall this stranger was. And that was saying something considering how tall some of the guys she worked with were! But she was fairly certain this guy still had a good couple inches on most of the guys, at least! “So, Tristan, is the scenery the only reason you’re about today?” She asked, idly more because she was forever curious about other people and what bought to them to the park. She jogged there every day and went for some practice time when she wanted a change in scenery. There was only so much a girl could take of the mirrored walls of a dance studio; or the library.

Tag || Tristan!
Words || 522
Clothes || Beautiful Ballerina!
Lyrics || One Way Ticket -- Carrie Underwoodd
Notes || <3

[Tristan Derek Halbert]

Despite boasting the wealthy background and the luxuries that came from his father’s job, Tristan hadn’t waltzed through his life without a care in the world. He had been used by so called friends for concert tickets and free merchandise over the years; a plot Tristan quickly learned to detect and one that did leave him with a few tender trust issues during those turbulent teenage years. He had also spent years unable to understand the busy lives of his parents. Most of his time was spent in the company of nannies and the tutors hired to keep his grades impressively high. He had a good, strong relationship with his parents now, but Tristan knew that if they were to ever find themselves fighting across the dinner table, his childhood of interchangeable employees would be his main weapon to wield. Things were different now, and Tristan didn’t dwell too much on those days. He had been successful as a part of the company, he had his own sights on signings and targets for their investment and time and he had earned every ounce of the respect he had in the New York branch. He never once rolled off the back of his father’s name and it was often amusing to him when he did pull days in the office and an intern or a new receptionist would only clock who he was after a long series of conversations that sometimes involved a few sarcastic digs at their jobs or the company name. Tristan didn’t worry about things like that and usually laughed it off, but there was a line somewhere; it was just that no one had crossed it yet.

Chuckling, Tristan twisted as much as he could to glance over his shoulder at his back. The ache had eased off now, so he could breathe a little easier. Sometimes he felt paranoid about worrying over every little trip and fall, but Tristan had been through hell after his accident and it was not something he wanted to go through again just because he shrugged off a simple fall. He’d rather spend a few minutes panicking to himself than any more time in a brace or hospital. “Yeah, this time.”

[/color] He said easily enough, his tone light enough to suggest some kind of joke. His accident had been pretty serious and had lasting implications, but Tristan had found that people freaked out if he couldn’t at least crack one joke about it. He worked in the damn building where it happened, he didn’t need molly-coddling there, too! “Well, I’d like to think you didn’t go around leaving your belongings on the edge of cliffs. That could be expensive.”[/color] He joked with an easy grin. He was usually much more aware of his surroundings, but with this being a quieter corner of the park, he hadn’t accounted for anything being in his way.

Laughing again, Tristan shrugged and ran his hand through his hair once more. “It comes in useful. The top shelves aren’t my enemy.”[/color] The growth spurts during his high school years had definitely proved costly in the clothing portion of his life and group photos saw him quickly moving to the backs of groups so he was never in the way of anyone else. He was the guy the old ladies stopped in the grocery store when they couldn’t reach something and more often than not those trips turned into hour long adventures with those same women practically dragging him around the store. Tristan was just too polite to say no to them or tell them he was in a rush. “Actually, it kind of is. I have a few hours to kill before a show tonight and my camera has been neglected lately.”[/color] He lightly patted the expensive piece hanging from around his neck while thinking about the show he had promised to be at that evening. It was a band he had signed to the label a little over a year ago and they were performing in the city tonight. “How about you? I didn’t interrupt you too much, did I?”[/color] He had no idea what Tori had been doing before he had quite literally crashed into her life, but she certainly looked like she had been doing more than lazing about in Central Park.
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• • •

TAGGED! Open <3
WORDS! 724!
OUTFIT! Camera Cutie!
LYRICS! Antarctica - - - Hands Like Houses
NOTES! <3 <3 <3

[Viktoria Tamsin Cross]

Tori wasn’t the kind of person who cared if someone had money or not. She did, her trust fund kicked in when she was twenty-one, twenty-five and thirty, like her parents and grandparents had planned but she was careful with it, and she didn’t tell anyone she had it because she was sick of being treated as she had been in high school. She knew not everyone was like those mean girls in high school but it was hard for her to believe that anymore. As far as the world had shown her, the only nice ones were dancers; like her. Tori wanted those people around her, happy people, nice people; the ones that would rather help you up than tear you down. She’d had plenty of that for a lifetime; it was time for a change. At least she could be thankful that none of her friends or so-called friends had ever asked her for anything because of who her parents were. There was nothing her mother could give them and her father’s company wasn’t that kind either. In that aspect, she knew she’d always been lucky.

A fall, even one that could be harmless was a potential career ender for Tori. Dancing wasn’t everything she wanted to do with her life, but it was the most important part of her life right now. There was still plenty of time for her to cross off those usual things from her list; marriage, babies, deciding it’s time to rely on her fallback. “Or the next.” She said with a shudder. Doing what she did, bad falls were a big fear for her, but like any dancer, she tried not to make a big show of it. It was a part of the life, just as much as pointe shoes were from time to time and leotards. “I would have to have been near the edge of a cliff to do something so stupid.” She remarked with a chuckle. She had never so much as stepped foot near a tall enough cliff. And the “cliffs” she did step up on, she didn’t consider high enough to actually fall under that category. If she could jump from it and safely land in the water, it wasn’t a cliff.

“No, they’re mine!” Tori joked, unable to help herself from making the self-deprecating remark. She wasn’t a short girl by any means. She was tall and slim, a perfect dancer’s body but even at five eight she couldn’t reach the top shelf of the cupboards in her kitchen without a stepping stool or hopping up onto her marble counters. People intrigued the young Aussie. Despite how they treated her, they had always intrigued her. People were almost like her fish, something to study, try and figure out. And if she’d cared that much about people, she might have taken a different route. But she was Australian, and her love of the sea, surfing and sand were her only stereotypical loves. Tori nodded her head, listening to Tristan’s words and smiling when he asked her what she was doing in the park. “I have a callback audition in.” she paused to snatch up her phone to check the time. “Oh, jeez, like twenty minutes so I figured I would get in one last practice. It’s only a couple blocks up though so I should be good, right?” She asked rhetorically. After all it was a callback, not a first audition. If it were one of those, she would definitely be late at this hour of the day! “You said a show? Like Broadway or something?” She queried, her curiosity getting the better of her yet again.

Tag || Tristan!
Words || 611
Clothes || Beautiful Ballerina!
Lyrics || One Way Ticket -- Carrie Underwoodd
Notes || <3

[Tristan Derek Halbert]

Tristan didn’t care about wealth. All he wanted in his life was to be happy. He worked for most of his money, with just the cost of university already taken care of by the fund his parents had set up when he was born. There was a not-so-modest sum in an account for him, too, but Tristan saved that for “rainy days”. He preferred to live off what he himself earned, and did so quite pleasantly. To look at him, he didn’t give off any impression of coming from the background he did. He had a decent car that he hardly used in the city since traffic was just a nightmare and his apartment was probably the only real give away that he had the cash to burn. Not many people saw his apartment for that reason though. He didn’t want to return to those days of fake friends and bad company. No, Tristan preferred coming across to strangers as an overly tall, slightly bumbling young man who liked music, photography and studied journalism because it seemed interesting. It was safer that way in his opinion. People who met him through work found him to be young, professional and a boy who would definitely grow up like his father, despite Tristan already being twenty five and several inches taller than the man.

“Hopefully.”

[/color] He commented with a quick raise of his eyebrows. People would think his accident happened as a result of fooling about and acting like an idiot, but in reality Tristan had just been talking business with his dad when the floor gave way beneath him. It’s something that he can barely remember other than a flash of panic and then the agony that followed. He doesn’t remember hearing anyone talking to him or the paramedics speaking to him even though he was conscious the whole time. Again, his accident was something only a few people knew about. He didn’t like to broadcast it and hated sympathy for it. People only ever found out if they spotted the large scar or caught him on a day that was bad enough to warrant his walking stick. Although on those days he tried not to leave his apartment; he hated relying on that crutch. “I don’t really think they’re good places to be. A little less stable than the view is pretty.”[/color] He remarked with a haphazard shrug. His fall had been fourteen feet, and luckily not deadly, but since then he had kept a safe distance from edges and heights.

Laughing, Tristan kept the grin on his face. “Well if I’m ever around just holler. Or, you know, leave some things for me to trip over. Either one will work.”[/color] He commented, looking down at Tori as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He had learnt the hard way that if you couldn’t joke about something then the only person who would suffer was yourself. Tristan preferred to make his own jokes about his mistakes or embarrassing moments since that way people couldn’t feel bad for him, or use them again him harshly. Glancing at his own timepiece, Tristan nodded his head. “If you can move fast. Faster if you know any shortcuts.”[/color] Since he walked when he could, he had picked up several or more little side alleys and detours that could knock five minutes or more off his trip. They came in useful on days when he was running late or could do with getting home a little earlier. Tristan pushed his hand through his hair and took a second. He didn’t want to sound like he was trying to impress Tori or come across like something he really wasn’t. “Actually it’s the concert over in Terminal 5 tonight. I made a promise that I’d be there.”[/color] He kept it vague enough without revealing his relationship with the band, which is how Tristan preferred it. Not everyone would scream about it, but he had only just met Tori and didn’t know how she would react to knowing that he frequently met, worked with, and partied with some of the big names in the music industry.
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TAGGED! Open <3
WORDS! 733!
OUTFIT! Camera Cutie!
LYRICS! Antarctica - - - Hands Like Houses
NOTES! <3 <3 <3