[center][img]http://gifgifs.com/res/0716/5792ff9eba8b6272725184.gif[/img]

[img]http://i845.photobucket.com/albums/ab20/XxKayla36xX/Jareth%2036.png[/img]

[b][u]Location:[/u][/b] Beverly Hills High {Activity Fair}
[b][u]Interaction With:[/u][/b] Ari [sup][@Foxygen][/sup] & Davy [sup][@Universorum][/sup]
[b][u]Time:[/u][/b] ~9:00 AM[/center]

[hr]

Jareth’s lips turned into a straight line in reaction to Ari’s glare. Right, his elbows were kind of bony, honestly… [i]all[/i] of Jareth was kind of bony. He offered a short [color=slategray]"Sorry, man."[/color] in response before passing Adassi the Battle of the Bands flyer. Distracted by scouting out for the she-devil, Jareth missed the wave of nervousness that had washed over his best friend’s face before he agreed that they should sign the band up. Ari’s voice brought Jareth back to the present, and the tight-lipped expression that he wore mirrored Jar’s own thoughts on the situation. 

[color=crimson]"Looking for someone?"[/color] Ari asked with a fair amount of bite to his words. Jareth’s eyes dropped down and he clenched his jaw, sucking his lip ring in and running his tongue along it, pondering what the appropriate response to that particular question might be. After several seconds of contemplation, he spoke up.

[color=slategray]"I got stoned last night and woke up on my roof this morning but, hell, I guess that’s better than jumping off of it, right?"[/color] Jareth monologued somewhat dramatically. He punctuated the rhetorical question with a humorless chuckle. Ari should be used to Jar dodging emotional questions like this, they understood each other like that, and he was certain that Ari would know what he meant. [color=slategray]"So… no, I’m doing quite the opposite of looking [i]for[/i] someone, actually."[/color] his tone was more gloomy than ill-tempered. He meant no offense, but sometimes hurting people could hurt people, hopefully Ari would get that and be chill about it.

Jar abruptly turned back to the Music Club booth and scribbled his name in his trademark chicken scratch, all capital letter handwriting, followed by Ari and the other band members’ names with [i](CrimSon)[/i] at the end, in parentheses. Looking at the band name on paper made him wince a little. Even Jareth recognized how cringe-worthy that name was, now that he wasn’t a 15 year old playing guitar alone in his foster parents’ garage anymore. Well, he still played in that garage, but now he was 17 years old, and had four other bandmates. It was totally different

Naturally, the pair then separated themselves from the herd of sheeple that was the Beverly Hills High populace, and stuck close to the bleachers. [color=slategray]"I was just thinking, maybe we should come up with a different band name. This Battle of the Bands thing is going to be a lot of exposure, we should like… have our shit together, image and all that, you know? Now that we have a full crew, maybe the five of us could put our heads together and come up with a betterrghh--"[/color] 

Jareth’s meandering ramblings were cut short by a sudden impact of force. Being as awkwardly tall as he was, Jareth’s center of balance was thrown off as he stumbled into Ari and caught himself on the bleacher before falling down completely. Papers fluttered in the breeze and rained down around them. Jareth quickly worked on gathering them before they flew away when he heard the voice belonging to the skateboarder-gone-rogue.

[color=slategray]"Hey, Davy, dude! Don’t worry about it, it’s fine."[/color] Jareth replied to his rapid-fire apologies. Between the three of them, there was enough anxiety and depression disorders to keep the majority of Beverly Hills' therapists in business, so stuttering and awkward moments sometimes ran rampant. After managing to save most of the loose papers, Jareth went to hand them back just as Davy said ‘don’t’. Of course, that cued Jareth to look down at what exactly it was that he was saving from scattering across the football field in the breeze. And there, on the top of the haphazardly stacked pile in his hands, was a drawing of… [i]him[/i].

For a moment, Jareth was caught up in the shock of staring at this comic-like depiction of himself, but there was no denying that this face was meant to be his. He looked like an angsty superhero, cloaked in black robes and posed with his right hand gesturing a ‘just shoot me’ finger gun towards his right temple. The left side of his face was disguised by a skull mask. In his left hand was a slightly damaged guitar with both E strings popping off from being strung too tightly. The drawing was wholly black and white aside from the scarlet gem in the eye of the skull mask and the blood splatters on the guitar. “The only thing to fear... is fear itself!” was written below the figure, like a slogan.

[color=slategray]"Holy shit…"[/color] Jareth mused with wide eyes, his thumbs pressing soft indents into the page as he studied it. When he looked up at Davy, he honestly could not recall the kid ever looking so mortified. [color=slategray]"Th-this is me. You drew me. Holy shit--"[/color] Jareth ran one hand through his hair while the other held the drawing. He felt his palms were getting sweaty from anxiety and he decided that he should probably stop touching his hair before it got poofy, and also give Davy back his papers. [color=slategray]"That is the sickest thing I’ve ever seen, seriously. I kind of want to keep it… c-can I keep this?"[/color] Jar asked, uncharacteristically stuttering. No one had ever done something like this for him before, at least not that he knew of, and it was incredibly flattering. Would this be what it would be like to have fans some day? Maybe his nervous ass wasn’t cut out for this ‘front man’ thing after all… or maybe, just maybe, he could actually get used to it.