[color=cccccc][right][sup][u][b]Location[/b][/u] - Above One Thousand Pages ⤔ And then Below ⤔ And then Simone's
[b][u]Interaction[/u][/b] - (via text) Alistair [sup][@McHaggis][/sup] and (via text) Melanie [sup][@Liriia][/sup][/sup][/right][/color]

[center][img]http://68.media.tumblr.com/f474784bc1bf68fa47e547352c44dc41/tumblr_obco0pbisS1tfw4aco3_500.gif[/img]

[img]https://i.imgur.com/ksFBsqJ.png[/img]
[img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/b3RmLjYwLmRlYmJhZi5MUSwsLjA,/foglihtendeh0.decoh02.png[/img]
[i][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FTQbiNvZqaY][color=debbaf]I am in need of music that would flow
Over my fretful, feeling fingertips,
Over my bitter-tainted, trembling lips,
With melody, deep, clear, and liquid-slow.[/color][/url][/i]
[sub][color=e0e0e0]"I Am In Need Of Music" - by [i]Elizabeth Bishop[/i][/color][/sub][/center]
[hr][hr]

Every day, a soft melody to wake up to. Something smooth, with a gentle, easy riff that floats and settles in the air. A beat, aloof beyond the simple trill of the singer. "Start every morning with songs that inspire you," his mother told him. And, since the accident, he has. Each song built upon the other, to slowly wake him, and then gently push him to begin the day - to make it different than the others, as much as he could.

That, and usually his cat would aid in rousing Teddy. She sat against his chest, blinking slow, before raking a paw, claws out, against his collar bone. [color=debbaf]"Mm, fuck,"[/color] Teddy mumbled, tempted throw the cat into the hall. He bit his cheek, instead, and rose, glaring at the soft padded footsteps that accompanied the first few, hesitant notes of a guitar.

After going through the daily routines, Teddy settled into his dining room chair with a small plate of pancakes in front of him. Huxley wandered off the moment she finished eating. A quick glance at the clock told him the time, a measly 6:30 a.m. Sundays usually meant late open, early close, so he could afford to sleep in when opening meant 8, instead of 7. Though, late or not, Huxley always found a way downstairs to bask in the morning light for as long as she could.

Once he'd taken enough bites of food, Teddy slipped his phone out and sent a few texts.

[quote=hey those books u wanted i gottem in today stop on by whenever

oh oh and i got a treat or two for megumi if shes lookin for new books to read!]To: [color=acd6f8]Alistair[/color][/quote]

[quote=mel! i lost that rock u gave me the other day, the pink one with the frozen gum on it ;c im blaming hux. u mind if i could pawn another offa u? my cash register just doesn't look the same without one more gem to surround it

also i got a few books for pagan dreams. i don't have mor's number figured u could pick em up for her? sorry if im askin too much!]To: [color=ebd2e0]Mel[/color][/quote]

Once satisfied, Teddy scarfed down the rest of his meal before rummaging through his home. He checked the time while stuffing his earphones in, happy to start a little earlier than usual. The immediate beat of the song settled him, let his feet shuffle along his hallway carpet. God, his mother would hate him for his song choice. 80s synth pop and Screamo had to be her all time most hated genres, but she wasn't around to judge him - give him glares and passive aggressive remarks until he switched it.

Music, depending, usually gave Teddy a lot more confidence than average - likely why he starts his day surrounding himself in sounds. His sneakers and the floor squeaked in tandem, the pressure of his footfalls heavier as they padded along to the beat. People got used to him barging out of his home in a ruckus, either lip syncing for the ages or actively belting to a song. He got so enraptured in what he was doing that Teddy often locked himself away from the outside world. A great reason why, despite being among the first few people awake at this hour, that he missed the light commotion around the shop windows - his cat didn't give two shits.

[color=debbaf]"And when she knows what she wants from her ti-i-ime,"[/color] he belted, jogging in place for a few moments before setting off to a pace set to the rhythm of what his mother considered the most overrated Billy Joel song of the 20th century. He passed by each and every shop without once questioning why his feat crunched against gravel that shouldn't have been there or why, when he occasionally decided to glance to his side, that tiny, shattered shards of glass littered floors and tables and merchandise.

It didn't come screeching to a halt until an hour later, when he rolled back up to his shop, put his key into the door that lead up his stairs, and decided, while the next song buffered, to stare at his own shop. His eyebrows knitted together, either at the numb pain in his right arm or at the lack of a window, Teddy couldn't piece together, yet. The window. The. Window. He narrowed his eyes, then swerved his head around to look at the individuals surrounding the other shops, his own among them.

[color=debbaf]"What..."[/color] Teddy mumbled, pulling his keys and moving in a slow, burning trudge to where a few bystanders stood with some planks and nails in their hands. They each gave him a look and he returned it, though with a slightly more confused expression.

"You okay there,Ted?" one of the ladies asked, frowning at his head shake, "Your window - all the windows, they got busted."

"We think some vandal kids decided to have a run around main street," the other chimed in, glaring at the few teenagers that wandered about.

All Teddy could think to stare at was the damn cat on her perch in the corner of the store just staring back. [color=debbaf]"Fuck,"[/color] was the only thing he could muster. [color=debbaf]"Fuck."[/color]

"Fuck's right. Hey, we'll get this boarded up for ya, Teddy. You look like you could use a coffee; I think Simone's handing some out down the street," she said, pushing him in that general direction until he started moving.

[color=debbaf]"Yeah, I... yeah."[/color] Teddy set a slow pace, his eyes glued to his phone while Toto blared in his ears. He shut the music off and threw another text, or two. Three. He tried scratching his head with his right arm, only to end up messing his hair up more.

[quote=meet me at simones

shit went down

at main street]To: [color=acd6f8]Alistair[/color][/quote]

Before he hit send a couple of more times, Teddy paused and squeezed his eyes shut. [color=debbaf]"Fuck, the books,"[/color] he muttered and turned to jog back, texting the rest of the series of texts.

[quote=stores they uh

their windows

yeah

shit]To: [color=acd6f8]Alistair[/color][/quote]

He still couldn't quite wrap his head around it, still couldn't fathom something like that happening. Or maybe it was his own damn fault, being so out of it. Probably the pain meds kicking in, or at least, that's something he could blame.

Once the books were piled up and in a small satchel, Teddy jogged his way through the scattered groups of people until he found a clear path to the cafe. The little, hidden coffee shop that many of the hipster teens wiled their evenings away. He attended an open mic night a few weeks ago and was pleasantly surprised at the talent some of the younger Verona natives had. Or maybe that was the blunt he'd smoked prior.

Teddy found a seat in the corner, throw the bag on the table and ordered just straight black. Free or not, he'd still pay. Hopefully she wasn't feeling generous because of some dickhead running around town. He'd gladly pay full price to avoid any awkwardness. Somehow, he'd make a muck up of refusing to accept free hand outs. Of course he would, that's just who he was. Teddy grumbled, throwing his head against the bag and letting the fabric muffle his groan.

[color=debbaf]"Shit, Mel,"[/color] he realized, throwing himself back into his seat to scramble for his phone.

[quote=mel! come by simones shit went down i remembered to grab the books

apparently im too crippled to help clean up my own goddamn shop

sorry that was rude

head down ill buy u a cup of whatever]To: [color=ebd2e0]Mel[/color][/quote]

Unfortunate that now was the time he realized those ladies were likely staring at his arm the whole time. At least, they were nice enough not to mention it. He scrunched his face slightly, wondering if he'd missed a remark, whether they brought it up or not. They likely didn't, but goddamn was he so fucking stupid. 

He pounded his head with his only free hand before letting his forehead fall against the table. The sound of a cup hit his ears soon after and Teddy rummaged through his back pocket for some money before slamming a twenty on the table. [color=debbaf]"Keep the change,"[/color] he grumbled, not bothering to lift himself.