Post by beau travis miller on Feb 22, 2013 22:30:55 GMT -8
| [atrb=style,width: 420px; background-color: efefef; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/6jh1H.png); padding: 5px, bTable] BEAU T. MILLER 23 | STRAIGHT | BARTENDER | COLLEGE STUDENT | DOUGIE POYNTER THE INTERVIEW HELLO. THANKS FOR COMING IN TODAY. SHALL WE START WITH YOUR NAME? That's easy enough to answer. I'm Beau Travis Miller, but every once in awhile you'll catch a mate of mine calling me Boo or BooBoo. I damn well hate it, but that's what I get for having asshole parents who named me 'Beau' in the first place. Personally, I try to get people to call me by my middle name, but Travis hasn't quite caught on yet. THAT'S A NICE NAME. WHAT DO YOU DO FOR A LIVING? Alright, I'm a junior on college. I'm majoring in music because that seems to be the only thing I'm decent at. Job wise I'm a bartender. Pretty strange for a college kid to be a bartender, eh? Bet you're wondering how I get any sleep, right? I don't get any bloody sleep, but that's my own doing I guess. If you were to ask me why I got into bartending now, I wouldn't be able to tell you. Having to listen to idiots drunk off their arses is never any fun, especially when you're the sober one. Aside from that I play some music on the side, getting small gigs where I can in hopes of getting signed at some point. INTERESTING. WHAT DO YOU DO FOR FUN? Bloody hell, how many more of these damned questions do you have? I don't see the relevance of this one, but I guess I have no choice but to answer. Well, first things first, I rather enjoy break the rules and making a mockery of those who that that just because they have a fancy little tittle that they have some sort of power over me. I don't take kindly to those who try and tell me what I can and cannot do. But to get back on the original point, I also like to drink, smoke, play music, irritate people, get into fights. Basically anything you're typical irishman would enjoy doing, though technically my accent is an Irish/British twist. The things I do for fun are less than respectable, but doing the respectable thing is never the fun one in my opinion. WOULD YOU SAY THOSE ACTIVITIES REFLECT WHO YOU ARE? Oh I'm sure that everyone you asked would tell you that they did. I'm you're typical bad boy looking for attention, not that I would ever admit to the wanting attention part. I like to break the rules, cause a scene, anything that brings all eyes on me. Why? Because I like it. When people look at me they know I'm not a person to be messed with. No one is going to be able to walk all over me without having a fist greeting their face first. Reckless, asshole, sarcastic. Those are just a few words to sum me up. I do what I want when I want to do it because life's too short and boring if you do otherwise. Oh, you want more detail, do you? You're a bunch of nosy little brats, aren't you? Well, as I said, I'm a sarcastic asshole. It's one of my more distinguishing traits if I do say so myself. Sarcasm is the brain's natural defense against stupid, after all, and I feel as if I'm surrounded by idiots most of the time. Just because I drink, start trouble, and show a general distaste for anyone who has any sort of authority over me, I'm actually a pretty smart kid. I learn most of the things I know by doing random google searches because though I might be seen as the drug addict who gets himself thrown in jail all the time, I refuse to become one of your average American idiots. That's probably the only reason I've made it this far in college without getting kicked out. Sure I'm an asshole, but I'm a smart asshole, which is probably a hell of a lot worse than being a dumb one. Outside of all that mayhem, there are a few things that can mellow me out. Music being the first and foremost. Whenever I've got my guitar in my hands I'm almost in a completely different mood than I was before. Music relaxes me, calms my mind so to speak. Everything slows down and I'm less angry or frustrated. It's weird and that's why I don't like playing in front of very many people, or at least talking to people while I'm playing. After all, I do have a reputation to uphold and I can't let people see that I actually might have the ability to be.... nice. Yeah, that's right, this hopeless cause can actually be nice if he wants to, but those times are as rare as they come. I'm an asshole to most of my friends, which are too few already, but I can be nice to a select few I suppose. There are some people who can just get through to me and get to see the softer side of my stone heart. Don't get your hopes up though, because the odds of you being one of them are pretty low. COOL BEANS. THEY SAY YOUR FAMILY SHAPES WHO YOU ARE. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOURS? My mum and dad aren't too fond of me. They're both successful, intelligent human beings who expected a lot more from their son, but unfortunately I couldn't give them what they wanted. Still, they provide for me because they feel obliged, since I am their son and I'm a lost cause. I guess you could blame their disappointment and lack of affection towards me for my need to lash out and demand attention. Other than that, I was and still am an only child. My parents were probably afraid of popping out another disappointment. I a cat, Jinx. She's my only form of company and I love her dearly because she's the only female in my life that doesn't pack along some drama as well. AND YOUR LIFE? TELL ME ABOUT YOUR PAST. I'M EAGER TO HEAR. Alright, well my parents originally met here in Maine. They both came from rich, successful families that were full of doctors, lawyers, writers, ect. They both attended the same college and that's how they met. The two had a love for adventure at the time and wanted to do something a little... reckless before they settled down and became boring adults. So what did they do? They moved to London. Ah, yes, my darling London. It was there that I was born and raised, at least for some time. My parents both had steady jobs and healthy bank accounts thanks to the long line of money they came from. My mother's a doctor and my father's a therapist. When they had me they were well into their careers and at first I was everything they could have hoped for. A baby boy with blonde hair, blue eyes. Sounds perfect, right? Wrong. Once I hit the terrible twos, I never grew out of them I suppose. My parents were always pushing me from all sides, that's what I think sparked the rebellious streak in me. I couldn't rise up to their standards in school, so I found other ways to get their attention. In middle school I began messing around with girls, getting into parties and all the stuff that came along with that, and I got into trouble with the teachers. I was a lot of trouble, I must admit, but I still am and I'm sure I always will be. Now, after I got out of high school, my parents couldn't deal with me anymore. The only thing I'd ever really been good at was playing in the school's music/band program, the rest of me was just a little monster that they no longer had the energy to deal with. So they sent me to Maine, back to learn my roots apparently. I would be attending the college, they said. Naturally, my first thought when I heard the word 'college' was 'Fuck yes, these parties are going to be sweet', and for a time, they were. I continued to party, get in trouble, anything you would have expected from me. Being the British kid also had it's perks. The girls seem to love a guy with an accent, especially the British kind. You can be damn sure that I used that to my advantage because everyone knows that I'm a bit of a player. What can I say? Girls are pretty to look at and ever prettier when undressed. My first year of college was the fun year. I was stupid and reckless, but by the time I started my sophomore year, I started to learn just how much I hated this town in Maine. There is so much drama locked away in this place. Secrets are always being spread around and lives are being ruined because of them. I never noticed before because I was too busy doing keg stands and playing beer pong. Once I sobered up long enough though, I learned pretty fast that no one's secrets are safe in this place. Instead of holing my self up, however, I continued to go down the same path I've been going down ever since I can remember. The only way people could know my fear of my secret getting out would be if I were to change my actions. The more you try the hide, the more likely people are to dig around and try to find what's got you cowering in the corner. As I said in one of your previous questions, I am no dumb bad boy, not at all. I know how things and people work, so don't take me for a fool. I have no intention of letting anyone too close to my heart. Well, at least I'm trying not to. Did I mention I've kind of got a thing for a high school student? Yeah, she's a pretty little thing with a kind heart. I know it's wrong, but everything I've done up until now has been wrong. I just hope I don't fuck everything up because of her. WHAT ABOUT A SECRET? EVERYONE HAS A SECRET. Well, damn, I just talked about not wanting to get my secret out and now you're going to make me spill it? Well fine, if you insist. Back in high school I accidentally got a girl pregnant. She was nothing special to me, not special at all. She was a nice girl, kind of on the quiet side who slipped all too willingly into my fingers. So we hooked up, messed around. I told her everything she wanted to hear until she told me she was knocked up. I was only a teenager and no where near ready to be a dad. I'm still not ready to be one. Children and I don't generally get along. So I told her to abort the baby. I said I would stay with her if did and that we'd be more careful. She listened to me, even though she'd been a little excited when she told me she was going to be having my baby. I went with her to the abortion clinic and held her hand. I played the role of the good boyfriend all they way to the point where I dropped her off at home. After that I dropped all ties with her. I ignored her at school, didn't call her, or do anything but send her a glance or two. She'd gotten pregnant and I didn't want to have to deal with that drama, but a few days before my parents shipped me off to college, there was a note left for me on my front step. It was a suicide note. I was the reason that girl killed herself and that guilt will haunt me until the end of my days. ALRIGHT. TIME'S ALMOST UP. TELL ME ABOUT YOUR DREAMS. QUICK! Didn't we already talk about this? I'm currently a bartender, but I have high hopes of becoming a musician. The only reason I'm in college is because my overachiever parents gave me no other choice. Once I graduate I'll probably start really working on getting my name out there, trying to build up a fan base, y'know? If that fails, I guess I'll sell my soul to the devil and marry some rich woman, because I refuse to work in an office for eight hours of the day. AND THAT'S A WRAP. IT WAS NICE GETTING TO KNOW YOU. Thank god, it's over. But before I go, remember that I will find you if my secret gets leaked, and you will regret it. BEHIND THE MASK LEAH | SEVENTEEN | EASTERN | AD | N/A What people failed to understand about Victoria was that when she was on stage, that was just a sort of fake personality she put on. In a way, it was sort of like acting if you thought about it. The girl had no problem with her self image, but that didn't mean she would walk around the streets with hardly any clothing on. No, she was a lot more respectable than that, and to be quite honest with you, Victoria felt a little awkward when things got too sexual. It's weird, I know, but she wasn't the kind of girl who went around making out with people and taking her clothes off like she was some kind of pro at it, because she wasn't at all. She was actually pretty inexperienced and completely unsure of herself when things turned down that sort of road. Sometimes she herself didn't even understand it, but she blamed it on the fact that she really hasn't been in that many relationships before and none of them had ever gotten to the point where they'd gone passed making out. So yes, Victoria still had her v-card even though most people would have thought otherwise. The blonde struggled to regain her composure after being so violently thrown off balance. It was very unlike her to be caught off guard, but Logan had totally surprised her and sent blood rushing to her face because of it. Part of her felt a little embarrassed because he had been paying very close attention to her and the other part felt guilty for not really talking to him beforehand since he seemed so seriously and genuinely interested in her. Actually, it kind of made her feel like a bit of a bitch, but she would never tell him that. She doubted he'd agree with her anyway, and would probably insist that she was being ridiculous. But how could she not have noticed that he was practically fawning over her? Probably because her head was too crowded with thoughts about a different firefighter, but still. She was generally a very observant person, but she really had no idea that Logan was interested in her at all until just a few seconds ago. The cold New York air caused a shiver to run up the woman's spine and she pulled her jacket closer in order to fight off the chill. Hopefully hailing a taxi wouldn't take a million years, because she couldn't wait to get out of the freezing wind. "Christmas... That's coming up soon, isn't it?" The blonde frowned slightly at the thought. Part of her had been hoping she could just completely forget about the holiday because it reminded her that she had no family for friends to spend it with. She'd probably end up just sleeping the whole day away since she really had nothing else to do, and she didn't want to sit in her apartment by herself, thinking about what her parents were doing or how much fun her friends were having. That would be by far the most depressing Christmas she'd ever have. "No, I don't really have any plans. I'll probably just hang around my apartment or something." She shrugged lightly, not really wanting to bring up the fact that her parents hated her and she would feel too embarrassed to ask her friends if she could spend the holidays with them. "What about you? Gonna head home for the holidays?" Victoria smiled as she glanced over at him, genuinely curious to hear about his Christmas plans. Surely he'd have a more positive response than her's, which was why she'd redirected the questions towards him. The last thing she wanted was to talk about her sob story, because then he'd give her pity and she didn't really want it. Or maybe he'd look at her like she was some sort of spoiled brat who was looking for something to complain about. Neither of those were reactions she wanted to have to deal with. |
