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Post by beth on Jul 1, 2009 13:14:21 GMT
 ------------------------- It was strange, being here in America, in New York City no less. Paolo supposed he had picked a good city to move to; Los Angeles seemed a little touchy to him, and New York was known more for music than the other city. Music was the main reason he had come here, after all. There wasn't much demand for the stuff he created where he came from. Hopefully he would be able to catch the eye of some talent scout or make enough money playing cheap gigs to maybe make an independent CD someday. Right now he could barely afford his rent, so the plans for a CD would have to wait. He could not even get a steady job in the seedy clubs in the city. This worried him a little. Would his music not be accepted here either? Had he spent most of his money coming to New York only to see it wasted, to be mugged in the alley? Biting his lip, he looked down at the cause of all this mess. The guitar was the only thing beside clothing he had brought, which was a bad idea, but he did not have enough for anything else yet, and the guitar (he thought) was going to provide his livelihood for awhile. He was now regretting not spending a little more for some of the furniture, though he did have an air mattress thanks to a pitying landlady. And he also had a 'day job'. True, he was a waiter at an Italian restaurant, but he impressed enough people there with his cursed accent to receive pretty good tips most of the time. Maybe one day he could convince his boss to let him play there, but right now he didn't want to press his luck. Instead, he walked aimlessly down one of the paths in the park Olmstead had created, strumming on the guitar and humming under his breath. |
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Post by cassie on Jul 1, 2009 21:06:58 GMT
So this was it. This is what her life had been reduced to. Once upon a time Eve could have thought of her life as a fairytale. She was the poor little Cinderella, mistreated by her family and swept off of her feet by a handsome prince charming. She got her happy ever after for a while too, but happy ever afters didn't leave you crying on a park bench in the middle of the afternoon. She knew it wasn't anyone's fault but her own but still her supposed fairytale had failed her. She shouldn't have been all too surprised though. It wasn't like this sort of behaviour was rare in their family. Running away was like second nature to a girl with O'Vaughn blood. That was how she'd ended up in New York herself after all.
When she'd first saved up her money in secret and run away from home she'd never expected that twenty seven years later she'd been on the receiving end of a runaway daughter. Maybe it was just God's punishment for her. For the stress she must have put her family through, but at least she could argue that she was justified. They'd treated her more like a doll than a daughter where as she and Edward had done everything they could to make sure Eden and Emilia had the best life possible. They'd always have everything they needed and often got those things they wanted on top of that. Neither of them had to struggle to find activities since she was always there to take them places or do things with them. She'd tried her very hardest to make sure that her girls didn't have to feel the neglect and solitude her mother made her feel, and yet Eden has still run away from home.
The idea of coming to the park was to try and free her mind from these thoughts. To focus on the good rather than the bad. To see the beauty that the city had to offer her and remind her that there was still hope in the world yet from the moment she started her journey she knew the idea was set to fail. Seeing all the young children with their families or teenagers out with friends just reminded her of what she'd lost, what was her fault. She'd taken refuge on the bench ten minutes ago and was only now just able to control her sobs. Luckily for her she'd picked quite a secluded area to have her breakdown which saved for some embarrassment. Or least that's what she'd hoped when she sat down. However, as she heard the soft melody of the guitar in the distance, quickly joined by the presence of a deeper hum she realised that she was more exposed than she'd intended.
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Post by beth on Jul 2, 2009 8:10:51 GMT
------------------------- Sometimes Paolo could get a little involved in his music, even while absently playing it right now. He went into a kind of dream state and ended up concentrating more on the music than he meant to. Right now he was still out of that spell, for the most part because the park was so beautiful at this time of year. It was hot outside, but he did not mind that. Nor did he mind the flies by the trash cans. There were worse species of insects in the world. He made sure nobody gave him annoyed looks as he walked down the right side of the path, respecting the rules so that bicyclists and other pedestrians could get by him without risking running into him. Sadly, some of these people might not care, might just keep on going, but the others would most certainly feel guilty. And also, Paolo would be hurt, which he didn't want. He was almost into that Zen state of mind when he heard hitching breath, and broke out of his reverie pretty easily, looking further ahead of himself to see what the source of the noise was. When he saw it was a woman, red-faced and tear-streaked, he bit his lip. He had to go and comfort her, he knew that, he just did not know exactly how it was done here. Nor would he really have known in Italy, honestly. It was just different there, and he had been such a transient all his life that he hadn't bothered to try to learn the etiquette in each country. This country had its perks, though, so he had the feeling he would stay here longer than he did at the other places. Of course none of this was helping. He walked carefully over to her, absently strumming on the guitar still until he was near enough to the benches to see her more clearly. She was quite beautiful, which made it even sadder that she had something to be so upset about. She looked unhappy that someone had seen her, but it was not in his nature to just turn around and leave when he saw someone in distress. He decided, seeing her face, that he would sit next to her and perhaps strike up some sort of conversation. Maybe if she told him what was wrong she would feel better. He would not know what she was talking about, most likely, but that wasn't necessary for this kind of thing. So he took a seat on the other end of the bench, realizing he was still playing his guitar. Biting his lip, he laid it on his lap and looked at her carefully. "Sorry if I disturbed you, miss, but you look like you are unhappy. I . . .I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help you. Perhaps play you a song or . . . something." He had a tendency of being blunt but he was holding back right now, not finishing the sentence like he normally would. This was Central Park; strangers didn't come up to random people and ask to hear their life stories unless they were creepy. Of course, if that was what ended up happening he would be fine with it but she would have to initiate it. |
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Post by cassie on Jul 13, 2009 2:14:55 GMT
Hearing the footsteps approaching her Eve tried her hardest to sober up. The last thing she needed was to have people ask her questions and make the whole thing seem even worse. Then again, how could it get much worse? She was slap bang in the middle of every mother's worst nightmare. Her child was missing and she knew that it was all her fault. Thinking about this again she couldn't stop herself from tearing up again, she'd not even had time to calm herself yet and another flood of tears washed its way down cheeks.
With a quick glance up Eve noted that maybe her fears of talking to someone were not as troublesome as she thought. He didn't seem like he was going to cause her much distress or only ask her in order to get something in return. Then again, he did have a guitar and maybe he was only asking for some sort of donation to his fund more than being a caring person. Who was she kidding anyway, this was New York City. No one stopped to talk to a stranger here unless they had an alternative motive. It was just the way it went in this city. As he sat down next to her and moved his guitar she lifted the damp tissue in her hand up to her face to wipe away at the freshly wet skin.
The way he spoke caught her off guard. Maybe he wasn't going to just be as money grabbing as she assumed, but then again he was offering a service, how could she be sure he wasn't just saying it to earn a quick couple of dollars? She took in a deep, her hitched breath shaking as she did. She knew that she was going to sound as pathetic as she was certain she looked, but what did it matter now, this guy had already seen the picture of sadness she was presenting to the world. "I'm fine thank you." she said with her soft Irish lit coming through thicker than normal because she was upset. It was clear she was lying but if he was just looking for a quick buck then it was the easiest way to get him away from her. Then again, she was quite hoping he was genuinely concerned. It would be nice to think that maybe someone had the time to care for her in her hour of need, even if she didn't really want to talk all that much.
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Post by beth on Jul 14, 2009 2:43:25 GMT
------------------------- It was against Paolo's nature to be callous and pretend not to notice someone who was upset. It was even further against his nature not to try to cheer whoever it was up. The woman sitting on the bench by herself very obviously was depressed. She wouldn't be crying so heavily otherwise. What wasn't out of character for him was shyness and awkwardness when approaching people. He would hate to invade her personal space and break her thoughts. The two sides of him battled for awhile before he decided he could no longer deny that the woman needed someone there and that the person didn't have to be someone she knew. He didn't realize he sounded like a needy street musician when he asked if he could play her a song, but understanding dawned on his face when she rejected his offer. Why had he not thought of that? And how did he respond to her without making her think he was after money? This situation had never occurred with him before; usually he was the pathetic street musician and right now would be begging her pardon and trying to be gracious in his escape. So he paused a minute after she had spoken, still looking at her but not knowing how to form words correctly to answer. Finally he decided it would be hard for both of them to be looking straight at each other given her vulnerability. He looked down at his guitar and ran his fingers over the strings, creating a light reverberation which seemed to clear his head a little. "I - I - This would be on the house. Who could be so cruel as to charge a woman so sad for something that may cheer her up?" He knew she might not trust him still even after that, but she would know he wasn't one of the mindless money-grabbers. |
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Post by cassie on Jul 14, 2009 15:24:06 GMT
Having him still remaining there after she had tried to politely reject his offer made her feel slightly uncomfortable. The strange thing was thought that she almost embraced the feeling. She knew that she needn't be too scared. He seemed nice enough, even if he did only offer for the money he could earn from playing for her. The odd thing was that she'd felt nothing but such deep sadness and guilt for so long that it was almost nice to feel something different. To actually feel. She kept her eyes to the floor, although she was tempted to keep her eyes up and focused on his just to see if she could break her sorrow with overwhelming discomfort. However the thought alone made her realize just how pathetic she was, inducing more sadness.
Eve allowed herself a small pitying sigh as he lightly brushed over the strings. He seemed determined not to move and she knew she didn't want to move until she'd calmed down and had time to sort herself out so they were going to be here for a while. As he spoke she lifted her eyes slightly from the floor to look at the guitar he obviously adored, not quite being able to look him in the eyes just yet. Music always had been a good way for Eve to release her emotions, to let everything she couldn't express be felt through a song. Maybe this would actually help her rather than make things worse.
She cleared her throat a little knowing that it would be just as weak as before if she tried to speak right away. Looking up a little higher she caught his eyes for a moment as he finished. He really didn't seem to be all that dangerous, perhaps she was just lucky enough to have encountered a genuine person. "Is it really all that obvious?" She joked slightly knowing exactly how blatant her sadness would be. Taking a deep breath she looked away again for a moment, brushing her tissue under her eyes again, trying to catch any stray tears that found their way across her skin. Looking back up again with an almost pleading expression she sighed, trying to release the sadness caught in her chest. "Do you really think it will help?" Eve knew that this boy wouldn't have all her answers but she couldn't help but ask anyway.
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Post by beth on Jul 16, 2009 3:02:57 GMT
------------------------- Paolo bit his lip softly when the woman did not seem happy with his insistence on making her feel better. He did not know what he had done at first to offend her but could only make do with theories. This city was not the friendliest in the world, he knew from personal experience. A distraught woman in a park usually drew aggressive panhandlers promising to make her feel better for a price. He had perhaps come off like that, what with the guitar on his lap and his offer to her. Had he been invading personal space again? He had gotten in trouble at work for that a few times without even knowing what he was doing. A little ashamed for not remembering American ways of doing things, he looked at the guitar on his lap as he played around with the strings. He felt her looking at the same thing he was when he spoke to her but didn't stop his fingers slipping over the strings to create the chords. Just hearing the sound soothed him a little and made him feel a little less embarrassed, and created an excuse for him to keep looking at his guitar while she looked at him. He did not want to look at the moment to see into her eyes, unsure if she was trying to figure out a way to escape or if she was really interested in this casual play. Also, she had just now allowed herself to actually look at him, and if it had taken that long for her to feel that comfortable he didn't want to ruin it by looking straight back at her. When she cleared her throat he took that as a signal to look at her but still hesitated, running his index finger up one of the strings idly. When he did look up, it was to see her looking at him as well, just fleetingly, but it was a start. Perhaps she would note his intentions through his expression, note that he wasn't here to wring money from her or try to harass her. He smiled slightly when she made the small joke, patting out a soft improvised drumroll on the body of the guitar to respond to her and possibly make her laugh. She did still look very sad, like she was holding things in still, but he did not know how to approach that subject and didn't even know if it was his place to. He couldn't leave her alone in her state though so he nodded when she asked if the music would help. "It helps me when I am sad. . . I enjoy playing the music, at least." Not to mention listening to it, though due to his current financial situation most of the time he had to go out and listen to the street musicians or try to find a station on the small radio he had splurged on a few weeks ago. |
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Post by cassie on Jul 17, 2009 13:21:34 GMT
There was something about his face that made Eve feel happier, safer than she normally would in situations like this. She was pretty sure living in New York for 25 years had made her hard hearted. There was something about the city that made you untrusting and paranoid most days. It was either the city or her own nature, but she liked to blame it on the city when she could. However, here she was, talking to a man she'd never met before who was offering to cheer her up free of charge, with one of the most beautiful, trustworthy and kind faces she'd seen in a very long time. With all those qualities going for him, why would he need to lie to her about his intentions? Listening to his short little explanation of why he thought music would help her she decided to throw caution to the wind and just do something on a whim. "Okay then, what do you want to play me?" She asked with a slightly brighter voice, shifting slightly in her position to sit up right. She took a deep breath to try and calm down the sobs still trying to break free from her chest and placed her hands on her knees.
Looking down at the guitar for a second she then looked back up to the boys eyes and smiled softly, the first genuine smile she'd given anyone in quite a while. Even before Eden left she'd not been entirely happy. She'd lied to herself and said she was but there was only so long you could be happy with a husband who had to work all hours and a daughter who loathed you. Shaking her head free from these thoughts she kept her eyes on his, trying to focus on him in the here and now rather than anything that had upset her in the past. If he was going to try and make things better for her than she was going to at least try and let him. Even if it failed, at least she could say she tried to pull herself out of this state she'd gotten herself in.
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Post by beth on Jul 18, 2009 6:25:35 GMT
------------------------- The transformation of the woman's face as she looked at him again was breathtaking. Paolo had found her pretty before, but hadn't known how beautiful she actually was until they were looking each other straight in the eye. She just looked so . . . classic. He did not know how to respond to that, so he looked down at his guitar again after a moment, eventually turning his slight anxiety into thoughtfulness. She had a good question. Most of the time the people he played for made suggestions, but perhaps it would be good practice for him to play something without help. Also, if the song was good enough it could work to cheer her, which was why he was here. "How about the song 'Simple Things'?" he asked, playing the opening few notes of the melody for her. "It is about enjoying the simple things in life. I find it soothing." The lyrics were comforting, but he thought the melody would convey his message as well. He did not want to scare her away with his singing voice, after all. He was surprised when he looked up and saw her looking at him with that smile on her lips. Automatically he smiled back at her, glad to see that just talking to him had made her at least a little glad. She still looked troubled behind her eyes but he could see a radiance shining through that he hadn't seen before. This positive reaction to him gave him a little more confidence and he played out a few more notes of the song, to see if she liked what she was hearing. If not, he had slower songs, ballads. Or maybe she would think of something she would like to hear. At any rate, he had to try, and he was going to try his hardest, even if it didn't amount to anything. |
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Post by cassie on Jul 24, 2009 1:36:08 GMT
Watching his eyes flick back down to his guitar Eve tried not to feel too ashamed of herself. She knew that he was most likely judging her for her actions, for being so over emotional and looking like such a wreck. She also knew there was nothing she could do to stop him from these thoughts but still as he kept his eyes away from hers she wished that there was something she could say to explain herself. There was no real reason for her to feel the need to justify herself, he had been the one to come over and elect to start conversation with the crying, unstable woman, but she still felt vulnerable under his gaze, or lack of. A simple explanation of her situation would have easily done the job but it wasn't that easy to just say 'my daughter ran away because I'm a terrible mother' so instead she related to just nod her head at his question about the song. Hearing him give the reason for his choice she tried to clear her head of her thoughts to enable herself to hear the meaning, to also feel it's soothing effect.
Despite all of her inner turmoil the smile she'd grown for him had remained and as he grinned back to her she could help herself from feeling at least a little comforted. The song he was playing her sounded lovely so far, she could see no reason to stop him but she just couldn't seem to find the words to tell him so. She blamed his smile for this problem. It was radiant. Not like the sun was shining out from his cosmetically white teeth like most of the people she socialized with, but just an honest smile that warmed the soul of anyone able to bare witness to it. She lifted her hands from her knees and placed them on top of each other just in front of her stomach, reveling in the warmth that his happiness had brought her. She wasn't quite sure why it had effect her so, perhaps she was just becoming happy by being in the vicinity, but she knew she didn't want to loose that any time soon. Her small smile grew wider as he played a couple more notes and somewhere inside she found her voice, albeit a croaky, sob weakened version of it. "That sounds very beautiful so far." She admitted honestly to him, "What's your name?" It seemed strange to her that some boy, probably closer to her children's age than her own, could make her so instantly comfortable, so it seemed only logical to put a name to the face and feeling.
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Post by beth on Jul 27, 2009 4:28:33 GMT
------------------------- During the silence that ensued between them as they got through the discomfort of his discovery of her at her most vulnerable point, Paolo kept running his index finger over the strings of the guitar, trying to pretend he wasn't paying attention when he felt her looking at him. He was not trying to make her feel worse about herself or to suggest that he did not really know what was going on, but he also knew it was important to give people space when they were crying. Now that he thought about it, he did not know how much he would appreciate a stranger sitting next to him on a bench while he was breaking down. He supposed if the person was nice to him he wouldn't mind, but not having ever been in that situation there was no way of knowing. Besides, how would insight into that help with this woman? She was not him, she did not have his personality. But she was crying. He couldn't keep himself from looking at her as he told her what he would play for her, and carefully made sure not to look too intensely as he started playing, instead turning his gaze back down to his guitar as if he really had to concentrate on the notes. After a moment, however, he could not help himself and looked up at her, which was when he caught her smile and returned it. It was very promising that she was happy now, at least on the outside, and although Paolo thought it selfish to believe that he had been the cause of her control, he did think something about the situation had distracted her sufficiently so that she had forgotten about her sadness for the moment. The positivity was contagious and he could not help but continue to smile at a minute, mostly to see her happiness reflected back. She honestly had a beautiful smile, and he was glad he had come to the bench and had the honor to see it. But he wouldn't tell her that because then the smile might turn into something he didn't want to see. Luckily, she actually seemed to be brightening more than he had expected she would. He could almost literally see her lighting up, which gave him confidence to play a few more bars for her, which she seemed to enjoy. He bit his lip bashfully when she complimented him on his music and shrugged as if he had heard better every day, which was true. He was distracted from her comment by her question, however. The shock of it, really, just that she had asked him name within five minutes of meeting him. The only others who did that worked at the restaurant and had name tags like he did. He paused for a moment and then said, "Paolo." He did not think the woman would care about his last name, and besides why waste words when he could ask her name in return? "And yours, young madam?" he asked, strumming out a few playful notes on the guitar in an attempt to bring out another smile. |
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Post by cassie on Aug 31, 2009 9:47:58 GMT
A somewhat sarcastic laugh flowed from her mouth as he replied to her question. It had been a very long time since she'd been a 'young madam' to anyone. Even when she'd met Edward her status had been on the verge of something slightly older. Although with the experiences she had as a teen and into her early twenties, she doubted there was any point she'd really been a 'young madam', emotionally at least. But now not even her appearance helped her maintain some of the youthful exuberance she should have once been filled with. Looking in the mirror now was a chore most mornings. As much as she knew she still had managed to carry herself into her forties quite well, the signs of aging reminded her that she wasn't getting any younger and she was now on the slow decline into being anything but the young thing that this Paolo seemed to refer to her as. It was a sad but inevitable truth. It wouldn't be long until her body dried up and once Emelia flew the nest she would have to resign herself to being one of those old ladies who's whole world was their garden. They didn't even really have a garden. She knew how it would really go though. She'd throw herself into work and her and Edward would grow even more distant until the point that he realised, still being a beautiful man, even after the years were present on his face, that there would be a young madame waiting for the big handsome doctor whenever he wanted. She tried not to think about it too often but she could hardly blame him if he was tempted.
Lowering her head Eve closed her eyes and listened to the few notes he was playing for her. It wasn't like she had a terrible life. Far from it, some days she couldn't believe how lucky she had become from the her wasted days as a young adult. She was pretty much 'living the dream' as some people put it. To come so far to now be married to a handsome doctor with two beautiful girls both excelling in the areas they were passionate for. It was a gift really to be able to have all she did and yet something still felt hollow about it. She knew these thoughts had only occupied her mind since Eden had left them but she was unsure if she would feel whole again even if her eldest daughter did return. Looking back up to Paolo a second later she smiled slightly and extended out her hand to offer it to the one strumming at the strings. "I'm Eve." She replied with a soft voice, almost as though she were introducing herself to a sick child, somewhere she needed to be delicate. "Although I'm hardly much of a young madam. Perhaps compliments like that would be better served to one of my girls." Her voice caught slightly as she finished, realising that perhaps she had not quite calmed from her break down of tears over one of those girls earlier.
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