Post by HAYDEN EMORY SCOTT on Feb 20, 2013 14:32:51 GMT -8
| [atrb=style,width: 420px; background-color: efefef; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/6jh1H.png); padding: 5px, bTable] HAYDEN E. SCOTT 28 | HETEROSEXUAL | M.D. / PHYSICIAN | EMERGENCY CREW | ADAM GREGORY [/style][style=font-family: megrim; font-size: 45px; color: #1c161e; letter-spacing: -3; width: 400px; text-align: center;]PERSONALITY MATHEMATICALLY INCLINED | SHY | FLIRTATIOUS | INDECISIVE | ATHLETIC Hayden is initially a pretty shy person. He has a great deal of tragedy in his past, and he tends to feel like an open book in the midst of strangers. To counteract his odd fear, he stays closed-in until he knows that he has earned a person's small bit of trust. Then, Hayden has a lovable social behavior that attracts people of all demographics. His looks have gotten him places, but he values the way he treats others and is as kind as possible. Though he is an academically and mathematically inclined person, he lacks the ability to hold a deep conversation with most people in fear of the thoughts such encounters can uncover. His fears revolve around his past and hurting others. After witnessing the unfortunate death of Neal Prescott, his childhood best friend, he has made it his mission to ensure the safety of those around him. He is a doctor because it gives him the power to diagnose and treat patients. While doing this, he enjoys creating relationships with others. Though the attachment can be hurtful when he loses patients (which happens to every doctor, even the best), he has learned that the last words can matter most. He would never tell other doctors why he becomes so close to his patients, but it all has to do with losing his best friend at a young age. He knows this, of course, but won't say a word. When he's not at work, Hayden kills time by running, which he enjoys doing since he stopped high school sports and college basketball. When he's not doing that, he will go out for just a few drinks with friends over a game of pool. He never gets drunk, however, for reasons that are intertwined with Neal's death, which tends to define most of his behaviors today. A third hobby he has is Sudoku and brainbusters. He is obsessed with mathematics and immerses himself in challenges for the mind, keeping his neuron pathways strong. Even with his amounts of self-control, he has a few weaknesses. He is unusually indecisive about his own life decisions. Outside of his academics, he has never made a sound decision -- in terms of relationships, family, or where to live -- because he is so noncommittal. He fears that his decisions will make a negative impact on other, so he "goes with the flow" when he must so he can avoid the responsibility he once had with being the older brother of a small family. In fact, he doesn't exactly know how to cook for himself or do his own laundry at home. He gets lazy about taking care of himself. He also has a hard time making sustainable relationships with women because he doesn't want to settle down. Too many things bother him about girls, obviously: they're unpredictable, unlike numbers. They're like books, the kind with big words he doesn't like to understand. That's why he works so much. And avoids The Snitch -- unless, of course, The Snitch is encroaching on his patients' lives. HISTORY DEATH OF BEST FRIEND | ACCEPTANCE TO JOHNS HOPKINS | JOB AT MID COAST HOSPITAL Hayden was born and raised in Virginia until he was 18. As a child he was adventurous and somewhat spoiled by a wealthy family of a small town. He was the older of two children, and being an older brother taught him to be protective over females in general. He was also very close to his mother, and through the female relationships in his life, he grew to love them and respect them. Even so, he has been unable to commit; he hates losing people, regardless of how tough he makes himself out to be, and avoids settling down. He also fears having children because he could do something to hurt them. Of course, that probably comes from the fact that he and his father weren't always best friends. He grew up with his dad's influence on sports, and his high school days were filled with basketball. His father was constantly pressuring the boy to be his best. The pressure was immense; on top of basketball, his father put Hayden into football and gave lacrosse a small attempt. Over the summer, Hayden swam for the neighborhood team and played golf with family friends. The pressure was too much. During his third year of high school, he developed an alcohol addiction and drug problems with the partying and peer pressure that compounded on top of the pressure in his family life and sports career. His best friend, Neal, was another victim to the drugs. He was under nearly as much pressure. Both of them shared many common principles. Neal and Hayden had big dreams to get places in life, to get out of the small town of Chantilly and move onto bigger and better things. On top of that, both of them had younger sisters: Hayden had Peyton to take care of while Neal had Tiffany to worry about. From childhood, the days in elementary school, Hayden and Neal had been the closest of friends. Without a doubt, they had it all together; they were always there for each other. Tragically, their relationship was cut short on a night when they went to their favorite spot (an area that was usually occupied by drunk teenagers on weekends), an abandoned building on the outskirts of Chantilly, and had a few drinks. Tiffany, Neal's sister, was also there for their game of truth-or-dare. When Neal got a little too tipsy, he went tumbling off of the roof of the old warehouse and did not survive the injuries. Hayden's depression was unbearable. His father, the judge of the court in town, was able to defend Hayden's presence at the police scene. Though Hayden felt like a murderer, he told no one that a dare had been the cause of the death of one of the most beloved members of Chantilly. Tiffany, however, was not as lucky; she went through numerous rounds of questioning, as she did not have the complete protection of a powerful judge in her household. Neither was convicted, luckily, but both live with the guilt of witnessing the death of Neal. Hayden's addictions got worse with the tragedy, and he had no one to talk to because he slowly drifted from Tiffany, who needed him most at that point. He couldn't handle that responsibility, and his anger toward himself was hurting his whole family. He was sent to boot camp for the summer before senior year, and he was able to get himself under control and focus on the bigger picture. The addiction he once had held an influence over him for the rest of his days, and he believes that he has overcome a great obstacle. He makes it a priority to stay clean and focus on his health, but he drinks every once in a while... and it never really ends well. Boot camp also brought out a callousness in him that he never actually knew of before, and resentment was bred from it. He now has some temper issues that occur in his most heated moments, and he deals with his emotions in a more physical way than he did before boot camp. He didn't let the temper deter him from those big dreams he once spoke of with his best friend. Hayden pursued an educational career in the medical field, starting at Virginia Tech and earning a scholarship to Johns Hopkins, the top medical school in the United States. Hayden worked at his degree with all that he had and forgot about all other things -- except he met a girl when he went back home briefly. A friend of Tiffany's, Hunter, brought a friend to Chantilly. Hayden hit it off with her immediately. Though they developed into a serious relationship, Hayden was still working at his M.D. at Johns Hopkins. When he graduated, he moved to Maine out of fear that his parents would pull him back to Chantilly, where all of his best and worst memories awaited him. He moved in with his girlfriend and, before he could propose to her, found that she was unhappy with their relationship. The break-up was hard on him, but he was always the indecisive one, and he figured that maybe the whole proposal was a bad idea. It would have been more responsibility than anything, and that was how he coped with all of the loss. Now, he lives alone, and he's been in Maine for a mere five months. He was able to get a residency tied down at Mid Coast Hospital, where he plans to finish and stay. He has enjoyed his time in Brunswick, Maine, and plans to stay to start a solid career. Though he has considered moving away -- across the coast, even -- he has a reason to stay, and that is because Tiffany Prescott is here as well. BEHIND THE MASK LAM | SEVENTEEN | EASTERN | FOUND CHAR THROUGH TRUE LOVE <3 | NO OTHER CHARACTERS YET "Don't apologize," she told him, but he couldn't believe in the words' sincerity. It felt like her doors were still closed. Indeed, he realized that she would still be shut-in, but he had hoped for some sort of greater resolve. She was still Tiffany, though, and now she was an only child. He couldn't expect her to forgive him right off the bat. Then again, it seemed as if she were being completely dishonest. Shouldn't she just tell him that she was still upset? He stared into her eyes, wishing he could read her like she could probably read him. He was usually open in emotional moments like these, open like a book. Even after years of acting, Tiffany knew exactly how to unhinge him, anger him, make him feel all over again. Sadly, it didn't seem as if he had the same power over her. She was still a cold hard bitch, as others would say. He couldn't do anything to delve into a pool of ice. There were no words. They were caught in his throat like a fly in a spider's intricately spun web. Her eyes were glass, bluer than the ocean and colder than an iceberg. It was funny; he knew she wasn't heartless, that she felt overwhelming emotions of pain and regret. She had such a hard time telling him, though, and that was why he preferred her red-hot anger over this complacent stare. When he touched her warm face, he wondered how she could possibly be so introverted when she had so much to discuss. It was nothing that a therapist could coax from her lips; they were things that only Hayden knew, things that only Hayden could fully understand. Regrettably, he was the reason why she could no longer talk about these things. He had left her in her greatest time of need -- in Neal's greatest time of need. Hell, he had no room to talk when his sympathy had been directed to drinking and kissing girls to wash down the pain of losing Neal. He wasn't even there for the funeral speeches. Downstairs, the adults were either too buzzed or unconcerned to notice Hayden. However, Peyton spotted him in a second. He saw Garrett across the room and gave a meek wave. Hayden's cheeks reddened as if Garrett was aware of the small row between him and Tiffany. "You have some explaining to do," Peyton told him as she finally got in front of her older brother. Quickly, her hands found her hips and she looked just like her mother. Hayden grinned sheepishly and looked down. "Honestly, I didn't mean to make her cry. I don't really know what happened." That was the truth, right? No one understood Tiffany anymore. Sometimes, Hayden still caught his mom talking on the phone with other adults. They discussed Tiffany briefly when Hayden came rolling in. They were associated, of course, and Hayden's blue eyes seemed to remind the whole town of Tiffany's. Peyton stared back with a stern expression. The words Tiffany spat at him flashed into his mind, and he suddenly, uncharacteristically, pulled her into a tight hug. "Don't worry." He pulled away and stepped back, confused with himself. He cleared his throat while Peyton continued her little stare as if it hadn't been interrupted. "Get your ass upstairs, weirdo," she finally said, rolling her eyes. She wasn't angry, only mildly confused, and she wanted to him see Tiffany. He turned around once again to look at the staircase. "I keep on thinking she'll come back down..." he mumbled before grabbing onto the rail beside the staircase. He began the climb back up to see where Tiffany was. He thought she would follow, but then again, he had a tendency to misjudge her moves. Tiffany was unpredictable and emotionally unhinged. He heard a musical laugh, the kind that sounded happy but dissonant at the same time. It was natural but eerie, which made him feel inclined to come back into Neal's old room. He walked toward the door and listened for another sound, but the suspense had a short half-life. He turned the doorknob and pushed. He wasn't prepared for a view Tiffany there with a scrapbook. This reminded him of It the Clown, but instead of some distraught and frightened child, it was Tiffany and there was no creepy clown involved. Damn his sense of humor. "Hey," he called out quietly before sitting in the same position beside her. He realized that she probably didn't want him there, but Peyton would destroy him if he went back downstairs. Oddly enough, he wanted to see what the pictures were. He was obviously turning into the masochist who she was. "Is that June?" he asked, pointing at one photo. He took a look at the one when Tiffany was on Hayden's back. Strangely enough, he couldn't remember that day, no matter how much he pondered it. "Since when were you okay with doing that? I thought you were scared of me when we were kids." He smiled at her, trying to make those tears go away. He was tired of people crying. He realized that he hadn't seen anyone legitimately cry outside of the hospital he volunteered at, yet each time was powerful and painful. He hated tears; they were the spawn of the devil. Nothing good came from tears. They were therapeutic to some people, but in Hayden's life, they had always been a source of embarrassment. He remembered crying over a broken action figure as a child. His dad had slapped him across the face, telling him that men didn't cry. It wasn't a cruel or tragic fact. It was just the way he knew how to deal with his emotions, and allowing water to flow from his tear ducts wasn't valuable to Hayden's emotional well-being. He spotted a box of tissues: his Godsend. He got up from the sitting position and reached across to the desk that was a few feet away. The box fit perfectly into his palm and he sat back down quickly. "Here," he offered, holding the box in front of her for her to take a lotion-infused tissue. He didn't want to watch her cry for the next hour and a half. |
