lovely.company {open}

[sabrina mcgetton]

sabrina.

Click, click, click. Sturdy, shimmering boots clapped with each step she took as she strolled at almost a comfortble pace on the pavement. Deep black and shiny as always, they guided two slender feet to a familiar, wide entrance that held the secrets of virtue: the mall.

Sabrina's choice of clothing - a long, wooly grey tunic, black leggings and hair slung up into a neat, high ponytail - suggested this was just a casual day of shopping. To the untrained eye, she was a teenager - looking more adult than semi-grown - looking for presents in the local mall. That was a perfectly reasonable assumption - but, like most about her, it was far from correct.

The weight of change was heavy in her pockets, along with the more comfortable mass of her mobile phone. She could feel it vibrate now, pressed against her leg mumbling softly. Let it be, she thought, pushing her curiosity away. Today was not to be used chatting to Elites or flirting fruitlessly with the seemingly uncomitted boys of her year. No, she was on a mission, and it was her duty to complete it faithfully and without fault.

She entered the large building, enjoying the new, artificial scent of pine air freshener and the soft chiming music in the background. Simple pleasures - how I'll miss them when I leave. It was this independance that she loved - this beautiful, shimmering beacon of individuality - that led her each day to victory.

Inwardly, she growled; the e-mail she'd so rudely recieved this morning was like a wave of darkness, lapping hungrily at everything she loved her. Can't a girl shop in peace? She sighed; it was like trying to work with a million eyes trained on her back. It just wasn't going to happen.

Click, click, click. She walked towards the aisles of the large supermarket stored inside the mall, now focused on her mission. She remembered her mental checklist: get in - check - get to the supermarket - check - get a notepad, pen, bag of carrots and some cat milk for Seth. That was all she needed.

She headed straight towards the stationery, pleased by the cool blast of air drifting from the freezer section. She inhaled the deep, exciting scent of the supermarket, and felt a strange warmth inside her. This was what she would miss.

Shaking the reminiscent thoughts away, she continued, reaching the aisle and searching for letter writing paper. Plain paper, lined paper, reporter's paper... there it was. She plucked it up from the shelf, grabbing any pen from the neatly-organised grate beside it, and clicked away.

Snatching a few bags of carrots and two bottles of cat milk - she wouldn't be able to reach the mall again until Saturday, thanks to the studying she was faced with - she headed towards the check-out, preparing her purse in her hand. Just this one errand, then home again... She couldn't wait to see Seth, Dusky, Urban...

Dusky was kept at an off-campus stable, not far from the beautiful beach. After this, he was due for some training around the arenas with Urban. Both of them were beautiful appaloosa-arabians, grey and black like true mustangs. Seth was still waiting patiently in her dormitory, probably perched carefully between the bed and the bedside table as usual.

She smirked to herself, and continued with this thinking; I'd rather think about this than having to leave the academy, she thought bitterly.

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[james owens]

He'd been humming it for weeks. The simple beat of Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-baaababa, Do-do-do-do-dodooooo. It was working with his bass, also, but he couldn't find the words. For weeks, and now, strolling through the super-market with his bass slung around his shoulder, the words were coming, slowly, but coming.

"I want to ... Do-do-do, do do," James thought it over. He looked up, and seeing the girl in line checking out, the thought popped into his head. I wouldn't mind holding her hand. He thought, and he jumped, wanting to yell, 'Yes!' But he refrained, keeping his joy silent, except for the singing of the melody.

"I want to hold your Ha-an-and, I want to hold your hand..." James was yet again stuck in a thinking point, but he scribbled the words down on his forarm and walked up to the girl confedently, his bass strung around his left hip.

James's voice soared, high-pitch and sing-song. He was always happy, with fatty cheeks that made him seem a lot younger than he was. It showed him in the years of early adolecance, but he was nearly sixteen, and a sophmore in high-school. In his sing-song voice, he said, "Hey!" His cheeks had smile lines as he said it, but his smile was right back there when he finnished the word. His bright, sparkling brown eyes gazed at the girl.

[sabrina mcgetton]

Sabrina clutched her goods, settling into a sophisticated position, when she noticed a tall guy with a bass coming towards her. Musical - I like it. She couldn't resist but notice his almost cute look, tidy-but-untidy hair and what seemed to be a tune under his breath.

Click, click, click. She shifted from one foot to the other, not entirely comfortable with her place in the queue. Come on! She wished it would just hurry up, give her some time to just escape from this market, this world. Or else John and Kandy will get'cha! She smirked to herself; the infamous John and Kandy, estranged Americans desperate to 'adopt' her. Yeah, right - just because her parents were dead didn't mean she was a lonely, helpless orphan.

She let a playful smile linger on her lips. "Hello, stranger." It couldn't hurt to talk with a guy - instead of flirting for once, she reminded herself almost scoldingly. "Have I seen you before?"

Wincing a little, she thought back. She could've sworn she'd seen this guy before - maybe he looked like someone from a film of some sort, or just a stunt double she'd caught a glimpse of in one of the far too many action movies showing at the cinema...

Everything clicked into place. Of course, the new musician of SA! She'd heard about the kid - a year below her - but hadn't yet come face-to-face with him, let alone in this suddenly small supermarket. "You're the musician." It rolled off her tongue easily, like a melody - it wasn't hard to like a musical boy.

Now, now, Sabrina. With John and Kandy - ugh - on her mind, there was barely any time to be considering anything or anyone around her. It was going to be a hard pursuit of innocence, but it would be a worthy one - a rewarding, lovely bonus she could achieve only when the two stalkers were off her back.

She felt her phone vibrating in her pocket, and pulled it out quickly, setting down her bottles of cat milk and subconsciously sweeping a loose strand of deep brown hair behind her ear. She flipped open her phone, and listened for a brief moment to 'Come One, Come All' before clicking the 'Open New Message' button.

Hey Sabrina, it's Kandy. Phone me later?

Sabrina laughed out loud, bending backwards to flex her slender body. Yeah, right. She quickly tapped back an answer: I'm busy at the moment. She flicked the phone shut, shoved it back in her pocket, and let the click-click of her heels against the stone floor comfort her a little as she shuffled forwards, taking her multiple items with her.

Just a little further till she was at the front... She turned around, and shot a smile at the musician. Well, he's sweet - for a kid. The boy was a year below her, no matter how old he was, so to her, a kid he was. "I'm Sabrina - Year Ten." She was almost smug as she told him her year. Let him mull on that, she thought, smiling to herself. Let's not let him be getting off with older woman - a bad influence, I'm sure...

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[james owens]

James smiled, a sweet, innocent smile that hardly ever left his face. He laughed when she called him a stranger. So what if she thought he was weird? Laughing felt good, so it didn't matter if he laughed a lot, as long as he wasn't insanly annoying. "You go to Starlight, right? I've been playing in the Cafe' for a while. It's nice 'round there." He was sure she would pick up on his accent, he talked like a Brittish guy. Soaring, musical voice.

He had felt bad about it. Quitting his band to come to Starlight. They had been really rocking, too. But it was bad for him, he was falling out with their drummer, and they were poor, needed an education, and his cheap gutair was what he had chosen to bring, that, and a bunch of pictures of him and his band. They had been playing 20 pound gigs, though, in basments and for their friends. He was hoping to find some new band-mates, but that wasn't looking up. He'd just go solo if he couldn't find anyone.

He smiled when she had called him the musician. It was like a reward, other than seeing everyone out of their seats dancing, it was the best feeling in the world. "That would be me," He said, his voice chirping. He plucked absently at the strings on his bass's neck, testing the notes and ajusting it at the slightest note of out of tune.

When she mentianed her being older than him, she had said it so smug. "I'm James. Year Nine." He said. Impulse, but it was worth a try. "Hey..." His smile had faded and even though it still shown in his eyes, he was sirious. "You want to hang out some time? I'm trying to write a new song, but I've got no... muse." It may be pushing it, He thought, but desided to give it a try. "It'd be great to have a pretty girl like you there, and you could give me imput on my singing, and the song and what-not." He said, his smile returning right after he said it. Inside, he was thinking, Damn, I'd better get that song done.

[sabrina mcgetton]

A smirk played on her lips. Not so innocent as one might think, eh? Sabrina listened carefully to his offer, letting the image of a young, bidding musician slip into her mind. Not bad.

"I might just take you up on that, James." The smile stayed on her lips as she shuffled forwards in the queue. Just a few more customers to pass, and she would be at the front, ready to pay and leave as quickly as possible. So eager to get back to the captors? She tried to silence her inner doubts as she clutched her items.

Turning to John, she blinked, examining him once more. The new musician, museless and walking around with his guitar in a supermarket. Well, it's a bit like abstract serendipity. A lucky chance. She smiled inwardly, thinking about this oppurtunity.

"Ah - a fellow Brit I see." The accent he spoke so sweetly in was not like her own - Liverpool, perhaps? - which was from the grand city of London, a place she'd like to return to someday. "What brought you to SA? It's a long way from Britain, I can tell you that."

It feels like it too. She let a sigh slip from her parted lips; it seemed like so long ago since she'd put her dainty foot on the ground of the United Kingdom, or breathed the cold, crisp air that she'd lived in for so many years.

"I do miss it, you know." She smiled at James, wondering if he was thinking the same thing that she was. "I miss fish and chips on Saturday, and saying 'trousers' instead of 'pants', and..." She stopped herself just before she started to ramble on, letting her reminiscent talk falter before coming to a dead stop. She let out a small sigh and a delicated, friendly smile. "I'm guessing you miss it too?"

Sabrina edged forwards, just one person away from the front now. She felt the pen beginning to slip - slowly but surely, it slid from her fingers, making a small clicking sound as it hit the ground. She tried to bend over to collect it, but felt the cat bottles slipping. Determined to only drop one thing, she leaned back up, staring angrily down at the pen. Stupid thing, she thought acidicly.

[james owens]

When Sabrina said that she would think about hanging out with him, he smiled even bigger. Looking down at the bass, he moved his hand, almost laughing. He did that so very often. Pluck, Pluck, Pluck, at the strings with a thumb so very raw from playing. He had lost all his picks or broke them, and had yet to buy more. He had tried paperclips, pretty much anything he could get his hands on, just to get that normal sound that just didn't come when strumming with your thumb.

"I was falling out with our drummer, he's such a cheeky ruddy old brat I'm not even sure why we were mates. I quit my band to come here, hoping for some new band mates, possibally someone to be friends with, so far, I havn't found anyone. I may just go solo if this keeps up." He said, explaining carefully about his bandmates, the falling out, but leaving out the part about his mother drowning and them not having enough money to pay for the boarding school he previously attended, so Starlight was the only one he could get a full scholorship on.

Looking at the guitar, he felt a surge of home. The thing was fairly new, and not as cheap as his other, old one, that was perched on a shelf in his dorm, there for only purposes of nonchalant. Aye, I miss it too. What's really to miss is the friends." He said, a sober frown coming across his face. But, 'eh, Were here for new beginings, right?"

James watched the pen fall from Sabrina's hand, and taking the bass strap off of his neck, and setting it down carefully, not wanting to break the fragile instrament, he bent over and picked up the pen, handing it back to Sabrina. "Would you like some help carrying something?"

[sabrina mcgetton]

Sabrina smiled as he talked about his drummer - the life he'd left behind. The innocence exuding from him was almost alluring; she wanted to reach out, to hold his hand and comfort him. Whatever it is that's annoying him, I'm sure he's not letting it go pretty soon. Well, she didn't pry - and she wasn't about to start - so it was up to her own curiosity to answer that question.

"Leaving the friends behind is the worst - it's so sobering when you sit on that plane seat clutching your travel bag and a ticket, thinking about the last thing you said to them. Was it right? Did they like it? Could they forgive your mistakes?"

She shut her eyes, and frowned, pointing her chin at the floor. "When I left Britain, my friends didn't want to hear of it. I tried to do something to stay in touch, but..." She opened her eyes and let a sad little smile linger on her face. "All good things must come to an end, eh?"

Sabrina nodded in gratitude as James handed the pen back to her. Hearing his offer, she mulled it over; his assistance would be handy to say the least. She was about to say yes when the person in front of her moved on, leaving her at the front of the till.

She was faced with a speckled, bored-looking teenager, wearing a loose navy shirt as the supermarket uniform required. His hair was a greasy brown and looked untidy, ruffled upon his narrow head like a lump of mud.

"Hi," she said coldly, feeling a burst of sudden anger. Don't look so bored, she inwardly pleaded the young man. At least try to look interested! She glanced back at James apologetically, mouthing to him: I'll just be a minute.

Dropping her items on to the counter - heaving a small sigh of relief as their burden was lifted from her - she smiled at the boy scathingly. "How much will that be?" she asked, icy cold and shooting brilliantly fierce glares at him.

Hearing the price - $6.20 - she reached for the change in her pocket, pulling out a five-dollar bill, a dollar bill and a quarter. Shoving it almost ungraciously at the boy, she turned back to James, now beginning to study his bass. It looks loved, she noticed, seeing James' raw thumbs from playing it.

The boy on the desk didn't offer her a bag. Cheek! she exclaimed to herself, jaw ajar with an unintelligent hatred of this cashier. She cleared her throat loudly, eyes set hard on the boy.

Still no bag. Grunting quietly with fury, she plucked her items from the check-out and shot one last glare at the teenager before charging away, boots clicking against the floor with curt, sharp snaps.

She stopped a few metres away, and looked back. Here she would wait for James - wherever he was now. Musician boy. That had a nice, sweet ring to it... A perfect label for the bass-strumming guy she met in the supermarket. A perfect example of serendipity.

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[james owens]

The thought of the boy he had known all his life, that he had grown up with, the boy that was his drummer in a band that James had started, falling out. The last words he had said to him was that he was a ruddy brat and he never wanted to speak with him again. He was going to e-mail him when he got home, tell him he was sorry. It was a stupid incident that had made them fall out, any way.

And who he really missed was his best friend. They had said they would stay in contact, and he could fly home on weekends to play a few songs. Jame's friend had said he could come to Starlight, play a few sets with him, infront of the friends James had made. His best friend was whom he missed, the one that was with him, thick and thin, when they were trapped between a rock and a hard place, when people were leaving their concert when they were really rocking. They boy he had willingly shared the microphone with, the one who had quit his own band to play in one with James. That was whom he would miss the most.

James glared at the boy that was at the register, how rude it was of him not to help Sabrina at all. As Sabrina got done, he shuffled through the eisle in between the two registers, carrying the gutair through as careful as he could. As he reached Sabrina, the smile was back on his face, his eyes twinkling. He blinked a couple times, remembering fondly the last words his father had said to him before he left to come to SA. 'I hope you like this new school, don't go around charming every girl you see!' And truely, he hadn't been, but that may be just to the fact that Sabrina had been the only girl he had seen. But he had no intention of charming her, nor any other girl when he came. Now, he had no intention to charm anyother girl than Sabrina.

James's eyes lit up as he thought of anyother part of his song, looking into Sabrina's eyes it was hard not to have muse for a love song. He grabbed the pen out from the top of his ear, and scribbling on the underside of his for-arm, Oh yeah, I'll tell you something, I think you'll understand. When I'll say that something," on top of the lyrics he had already wrote, and on his other arm, "G, Major." in his neat, musician's hand writing. He looked up at Sabrina, putting the cap on his pen and mumbling, "Sorry."

[sabrina mcgetton]

A small, curious smile lit up Sabrina's face as she watched James humming to himself. That's quite cute, she commented inwardly, showing a spark of bright white teeth as she watched. He scribbled something down on his arm - what it was, she didn't know - and apologised.

"Oh, don't worry - you're clearly wrapped up in your music, eh?" She smiled sweetly, suddenly not bothered by the annoying weight in her arms. "Do you always write wherever you go, or is it just some weird kind of muse you get from wandering round a supermarket."

She giggled softly, a gentle tinkling sound that barely inflicted the peaceful air around them. With one hand, she swept a loose strand of her behind her ear, and took a few steps backwards, making sure the pen was clasped firmly in her hand. "So, are you going back to the Academy now?" She glanced outside the window; to her estimations, it looked as if it would soon get dark - and on these cold winter days the night crept in so stealthy and quick.

Sabrina turned around, and took a deep breath; he might be a Year Nine, she thought pensively, but he's sweet, and he looks like a true musician. He could go far, with the support of a friend. Friends... how nice it would be. She began to walk away, sending a glance back towards James. He'd be a good ally to have - a good friend to be.

She slowed up in case he needed to catch up, then continued walking. "So, are you writing anything new?" She glanced down at his arm, smirking a little. "It looks as if you're coming up with stuff all the time."

Sabrina pushed on, out of the supermarket and into the lobby area near the outside. A burst of fresh, cool air flowed in, and she let a smile play on her lips. "Beautiful," she murmured, before stepping out into the weak winter sun and trotting off into the car park.

[james owens]

James fallowed Sabrina's eyes fallowing his arm, and suddenly self-consious his face flushed and he tucked his arms behind his back were the lyrics weren't visible. Looking at the lyrics, he could help but think how proud Mike would be. Mike was his partner in song writing, and he was sure he'd be proud. Being a year older than James, it was a little hard other than the fact they both lived on the same street. He couldn't think of sharing the mic with anyone else.

His band-mates now on his mind, he couldn't shake the thoughts of Dan, who was their drummer. Why had they fallen out? He was wanting to get home and write a very lengthy e-mail saying how sorry he was. How good it would be for them to fly to come to Starlight Academy!

James looked at Sabrina. "I always write... Well, most of the time I just wander, looking for something to sing about." James said. It did work, most of the time. It was hard though, with out Mike. Although, talking to girls was much easier with out Mike, for Mike was always very eager to tell James' inner thoughts, often corrupting their song "She Loves You", to say "He Loves you, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah,". James was smiling at this thought, knowing if Mike ever saw James even relatively close to Sabrina he would start singing the corrupted lyrics.

"I was planning on walking back, yeah. I have a fair amount of muse now, thanks to you." He said, and when she asked about what he was writing, he said, "I'm writing a few songs, yeah." James simply nodded when the year ten said 'Beautiful,' tottally agreeing with her. He took in the colours and the falling leaves and the crisp, cold air. It was rare, that on a fond day like this, James had started with no muse.