time to fly,, '' Zaryn

[nicolai ivan glazcov]

Girls were confusing, and he needed to get used to that fact. Not only did she continue to blush for unknown reasons, but the writing on her little receipt which he was almost positive was used to buy something at the gas station. Was that the gas station down the street? That was a long receipt wasn’t it? What in the world could a girl like her, or even a guy like him, actually buy at a gas station at that much of a quantity? It really wasn’t his business to pry into what she was buying when she was alone, or whatever – but secretly writing something on a piece of paper didn’t really make her out to be the best looking in that area did it? All these questions and answers ran through his mind, and of course he really couldn’t be mad, it wasn’t in his nature to be mad at a petty reason, though it did annoy him.



Before he could get a closer look at the paper that was becoming more and more wrinkled as the seconds passed, she shoved it back down into her purse and he eyed her, and arch in his eyebrow. Why was it that girls needed to be so secretive? It wasn’t like he was going to go to every guy he knew and tell them that when he met up with her, that she continuously blushed, and wrote crazy inspiration on a crinkled piece of paper that told the word how much, candy maybe, she bought down at the convenience store, that wasn’t him. He chuckled, his accent deeper as he tried to make eye contact, “I don’t really zink it’z just you.” He grinned, “I have a feeling zat it iz juzt all ze girlz in their respect. A girl zing maybe?” he chuckled. It wasn’t a lot that his Russian accent flowed that thickly though something. Usually it only came out when he was calm, focused on something more important, angry, or upset. Otherwise it was just on some words, his tongue couldn’t wrap it’s self around the correct pronunciation of each letter.



Though nearly as quickly as it had come the writer in her had showed back up and she had pulled the paper back up. Now this was starting to get a bit redundant. No, it was a lot redundant. Nicolai kind of wanted to lash out and tell her just to finnish it now so he could actually have a conversation where he wasn’t the only one talking and when he wasn’t talking he was watching her write something down that he wouldn’t let him see. Pushing his hands into his coat pockets he switched his weight to another leg. Really he should have taken his tights off. Seeing as he had changed in front of the girl, he really didn’t want to worry her with anything so he kept them on, and as their name described, they were tight. Nicolai would take them off as soon as possible, maybe in a bathroom, or in his dorm, but it would be soon. He promised himself that.



Zaryn cursed, lightly then blushed, though the blood deepened the color that it was already as she looked up from her cascade of blonde that nearly covered her face. He waited patiently waiting for her to speak like he could feel she was going to do. And as soon as he asked, he laughed and then nodded, extremely amused that she would need something from him. Turning the bag that was on his back around, he dug into a few of the pockets and pulled out a few blank notecards and handed them to her. “im assuming that this will help?” he knew it would, but he didn’t want to sit there in complete silence for another three minutes.



Nicolai’s tone cut at her, and he could tell, he watched as her eyes widened. And she spoke, his eyes held the same confusion that they had earlier. “are you or not?” he didn’t think that it was a really hard question really, but she seemed to make her answer a question, “ I didn’t get the first impression that you were.” Continuing listening to her, she stumbled lightly on her words and then apologized. With a sigh Nicolai explained himself, “I don’t want people thinking I’m gay, but that’s what comes with dance, and if you want to call me gay fine, but you better understand that I’m not. I may dance, but the dancing doesn’t make people gay. There are people in dance, especially the guys that fear going further into dance because of what people think of them. The last thing that they need is someone judging them and making them abandon their dream.” Nicolai shook his head “I’m not angry, and really I can see why you would think that, but really you should get to know a dancer before you call them a fairy.” Duh-dum he didn’t mean to really make the pun, but it came up.


She walked out the door with him and Nicolai smiled, “ as long as everything is good now, I’d still like to go somewhere. Why don’t we grab a quick bite?” he knew that it was really already set in stone that they were going, but he wanted to make sure that zee knew that he was still up for everything. “where would you like to go?”

[zaryn kate oliver]

his eyebrows were raised when zaryn looked back up at him, his gaze flickering back and forth from her face to the paper disappearing into her bag and back again. he let out a low chuckle now, probably trying to figure out what was on the paper and coming up with insane ideas like... pornographic sketches. or something. honestly, zee had no idea and she wasn't sure that she wanted to know.

"i don't really zink it'z just you," he said, trying to meet her eyes, and zee pointedly did her best to avoid his gaze now without paying any mind to what that might make him think.

“i don’t really zink it’z just you.” he grinned, “i have a feeling zat it iz juzt all ze girlz in their respect. a girl zing maybe?” he chuckled with a russian accent. zee shrugged awkwardly, pretty sure that she was the only freak within a fifty mile radius.

he laughed and dug through his backpack, producing a couple of blank note cards, the kind that you write speeches on before you give your presentation. holding them out, cory said, "i'm assuming that this will help?"

zaryn nodded, taking them and flashing a grateful smile. "thank you," she said sincerely, probably creeping him out a little more; normal girls' worlds didn't stop revolving if they didn't have enough space on the back of their candy receipts to write a song. quickly scrawling down the rest of the chorus, she straightened up again and tried to build a mental dam in her mind to stop the flow of words. from the look in cory's eyes, he was getting a little tired of her ignoring him ever five seconds to write mysterious words down.

"are you or are you not?" he asked impatiently. "i didn't get the first impression that you were." but i am sorry, she thought, unable to say it out loud for some reason -- so she had to make do with yelling it in her mind, praying that maybe, somehow, he might hear her. cory sighed. "i don't want people thinking i'm gay, but that's what comes with dance. and if you want to call me gay, fine, but you better understand that i'm not. i may dance, but the dancing doesn't make people gay. there are people in dance -- especially the guys -- that fear going further into dance because of what people think of them. the last thing they need is someone judging them and making them abandon their dream."

"did i -- what i said -- did it do that?" she half whispered, a little bit pleased that her voice didn't break. she didn't want to be responsible for crushing someone else's dream. zaryn knew how pissed off she would be if someone broke her dream; she couldn't do that to somebody else.

"i'm not angry," he told her, "and really, i can see why you would think that. but really, you should get to know a dancer before you call them a fairy." zee nodded, but her expression was still worried.

as the door clicked shut behind the two of them, he smiled. "as long as everything is good now, i'd still like to go somewhere... why don't we grab a quick bite?" well, that was surprising. that he still wanted to hang out with her at all after that little fiasco. zee's eyes conveyed her answer, and he continued, "where would you like to go?"

"um..." she thought for a moment, scrunching up her forehead a little in a way that was probably amusing. "do you like pauly d's?" it was always nice to go there when she wasn't on her shift; no obligations, no needing to serve people. zaryn enjoyed being able to just sit in a booth and eat and relax.

word count; a bunch
wearing; this, plus dark skinny jeans and black converse
muse; perfect, p!nk
notes; sorry for making you wait... :P

[nicolai ivan glazcov]

After everything, the name change, the writing of songs, the gay waves that were sent at him, he couldn’t really be mad at her. Well, if he forced himself, he could possibly think of some awful things to say about her to her face and behind her back, but that would be reverting to something that he never wanted to become, so he decided to put the bad things behind him and continue on to feeling much better, or happier than just sitting and whining about the fact that she had maybe at one point thought he was gay. It wasn’t good for his reputation, or for anything if you thought about it, but if he forgot about it, so would everyone else. “Pauly d’s is fine with me.” It really didn’t matter where he was getting the food, all that really mattered to him was the fact he was getting food. That’s what dance did to him, it left him with a pang in his stomach that he couldn’t really get rid of.


Walking down the hallway, Nicolai made sure to hold each door for zee before they were outside. Squinting lightly at the sun, Nicolai pulled his jacket closer to his body as they walked together outside, “So you’re a music major, what other classes do you take?” he was trying to make small talk as they walked down the sidewalk, making their way to the diner. It wasn’t one of the nicer places that the island had to offer, but of course it was much better than sitting in his dorm room wishing that he had taken the chance to get something when he was out. “I haven’t been to pauly’s in a while, I should probably go more often, seeing that the students work there some of the time – do you know anyone who works there now?” he put his hands in his oversized pockets and looked down to her, the wind lightly blowing her curly locks around her face. Her hair reminded him of his sister, the one that had been left in Russia when he had come over. Maybe one day she would meet him here, on this island, and they would reconnect like the had many years ago in the cold winters of Russia


Once they had made their way to the diner, he looked to zee, “ill be right back, get a table.” He nodded curtly and walked to the bathroom, first relieving himself before taking his tights off and stuffing them into the dance bag that he carried around. “much better.” he mused to himself as he washed his hands and walked out, sitting across from the blonde headed girl, “so, what are you going to get?”

[zaryn kate oliver]

he should hate her right now. why didn't he hate her? not only was she probably the weirdest girl who he had ever talked to, but she'd just gone ahead and assumed that he was gay. maybe he was, even though he denied it. maybe cory was still in the closet or something. but she wasn't going to go around asking him that, too, because that might change the way that he was politely opening each door for her and treating her like he didn't know the rumours about her being the biggest bitch in second year at bouscher.

hmm. maybe he didn't know the rumours. and that was fine by zaryn -- after all, she wasn't one of those idiots who went all no press is bad press. and the rumours weren't even true. the biggest bitch in second year was by far meridith tallen. after all, what other girl would go around tripping her boyfriend's best friend and dissing her face and telling her that she slept with her dad -- when she didn't even have one?

"pauly d's is fine with me," said cory, holding open another door for zaryn. she smiled to thank him, and before long they were outside, the sun shining down brightly from above and hurting her eyes. she kept them cast down at her feet as she walked; she would look like an idiot if she tripped. "so," he said finally, breaking the constant sound of their shoes hitting the sidewalk, "you're a music major -- what other classes do you take?"

"well, for music i've got string instruments, composition, and advanced choir -- and music appreciation, but that's kinda boring. then i'm minoring in english, so creative writing and poems & prose. and then french, as lame as it is. because i'm not really good at any other languages. i mean... not that i'm good at french or anything," she tried to explain. "it's just... maybe a little bit more interesting?" she shrugged. "i don't know. you?"

"i haven't been to pauly's in a while," he said after another stretch of silence. "i should probably go more often, seeing that the students work there some of the time..." zee smiled a little to herself. "do you know anyone who works there now?" she could feel his gaze on her as they walked.

trying to look as un-retarded as she could, she brushed her hair out of her face, but it wasn't really any use; the wind just blew it into her eyes again. she let out a laugh, the kind that sounded properly happy and rang through the air. "i'm one of them," she answered, grinning at him.

she pulled open the door of the diner before he could do it for her, not wanting him to think she was helpless. as they walked into the little diner, zaryn smiled to herself. she loved the freedom of coming into this place without having to work. "i'll be right back. get a table," ordered cory before stalking off in the direction of the bathroom.

zee looked after him with wide blue eyes, but he didn't look back. he was ordering her to get a table? she supposed it wasn't all that big of a deal; she'd be getting the two of them a table whether he'd ordered her to, asked her to, or said nothing at all. giving the other waiter, adam summers, a small wave, zaryn chose a booth near the window.

pauly d's didn't have all that many tables. eleven, to be exact, which had always struck her as an odd number of tables to have. it was just a monday afternoon -- the lunch rush was gone by now, and the dinner rush wouldn't arrive for a couple more hours. on ehu island, there was a tight schedule, and everybody stuck to it, for the most part. zaryn knew the norms for the little diner like the back of her hand.

sunday mornings, everyone came in for brunch. mondays were fish 'n' chip nights, which drew in plenty of people -- she'd be back here in just a few hours to deal with that. tuesday nights were never busy -- not quite the middle of the week, too far away from the weekend for people to be free. on wednesdays, certain groups of students from bouscher celebrated the fact that the school week was halfway over. every thursday morning, a pair of elderly men came in to talk about their grandchildren in between breakfast rush hour and lunch rush hour. on friday nights, it was always busy, and saturdays were busy all day long.

there were only three tables of customers aside from zaryn herself -- an older couple (probably old enough to be getting grandchildren soon), a guy who looked to be in his fourth year at the school (hunched over his schoolwork in the corner), and a small family of four (the littlest child was happily smearing butter all over the table). the smell of stereotypical diner food was rising from the kitchen, and adam was carrying a burger and fries over to the student customer. cory finally emerged from the bathroom and slid into the seat across from her. "so," he said. "what are you going to get?"

zee didn't need to look at the menu, just a single sheet of paper, double-sided and laminated in plastic; she'd long since memorized each and every word on it. "grilled cheese sandwich and fries. you?"

word count; a bunch
wearing; this, plus dark skinny jeans and black converse
muse; secrets, onerepublic
notes; la dee dah...