The Way{I} R (open)

[BYRON MIKAEL QUAKIDIES]

BYRON GROANED AS HE FOUGHT WITH THE STICKY DOOR TO HIS DORM. HE HADN'T BEEN IN A DORM SINCE HE'D BEEN IN COLLEGE- THOUGH IT WASN'T THAT LONG AGO IF HE THOUGHT ABOUT IT. STILL, HE HAD GOTTEN USED TO THE COMFORTS OF HAVING HIS OWN APARTMENT WITH FULLY FUNCTIONING AMENITIES. STILL, HERE WASN'T SO BAD.

HE ONLY HOPED HIS NEIGHBOURS WOULD BE A LITTLE QUIET. ALTHOUGH HE WAS ALWAYS UP FOR A PARTY, AFTER HIS FIRST DAY, HE WAS ABSOLUTELY STUFFED. HE WANTED NOTHING MORE THAN TO SCRAWL INTO BED BUT HIS STOMACH REMINDED HIM HE HAD AFEW THINGS TO TAKE CARE OF FIRST. LIKE GROCERY SHOPPING.

THE ONLY PROBLEM WITH MOVING TO A NEW PLACE EVERY FEW MONTHS WAS NOT KNOWING WHERE EVERYTHING WAS LOCATED. HE DIDN'T KNOW WHERE THE SHOPPNG CENTERS WERE, IF HE WAS SUPPOSED TO TRY AND FIND IT ON HIS OWN OR EVEN SOMEONE HE COULD ASK. IT PLAIN SUCKED HAVING TO FUMBLE HIS WAY THROUGH EVERY TIME HE STARTED SOMEWHERE FRESH. IT WAS PART OF THE REASON BYRON HAD HAD TO GIVE UP HIS SURLY WAYS- NO ONE WANTED TO KNOW HIM WHEN HE WAS IN ONE OF HIS MOODS AND FINDING THINGS ON YOUR OWN COULD TAKE HOURS.

TOSSING HIS BACKPACK ONTO THE COUCH, HE KICKED OFF HIS SHOES AND LOOKED AROUND. THE GENERIC DORM WAS PRETTY MUCH A COMBINED KITCHEN/LIVING AREA WITH A SMALL FRIDGE, A SINK AND CUPBOARDS ATTACHED TO THE FAR WALL ON THE LEFT FROM THE DOOR AND A COUCH AND TELEVISION IN THE CENTER OF THE ROOM. TO THE RIGHT WAS THE SMALL BEDROOM AND ADJOINING BATHROOM. IT WAS SMALL BUT ENOUGH FOR A BACHELOR AND ENOUGH FOR BYRON WHO HAD NEVER NEEDED MUCH TO GET BY IN ANY CASE. HE WAS FINDING, HOWEVER, HE WAS A LITTLE TALL FOR THE BATHROOM AND HAD TO DUCK THE LOW DOOR-FRAME OR RISK BLUDGEONING HIS OWN HEAD. THEN THERE WAS THE SHOWER HE COULD HARDLY TURN AROUND IN BUT... IT WAS ENOUGH.

SCRATCHING THE BACK OF HIS HEAD, HE CHECKED THE FRIDGE AND CUPBOARDS AGAIN, IN CASE HE HAD MISSED ANYTHING THEN SHOOK HIS HEAD. MAYBE HE OUGHT TO GO DOOR-KNOCKING TO SEE IF SOMEONE WOULD HELP HIM OUT. AS IF HEARING HIS THOUGHTS THERE WAS A KNOCK ON THE DOOR AND BYRON LOOKED UP A MOMENT BEFORE SMILING. WHOEVER IT WAS HAD GOOD TIMING.

[BRADLEY WADE GLENN]

Bradley stretched his arms in the air, yawning so big that he felt his jaw pop. Getting older was something that Bradley thought about all the time. As Much as Bradley told himself that he didn't need to, well, there were so many things around him that reminded him of it. Forty-one was only getting closer, which meant forty-five was only around the bend. Bradley tried not to think about it too much, but there were some things that weighed a little heavier on his mind than others. He was still very much the kind of man who liked to have a little fun added to the mix. Bradley had his roots firmly grounded in music and he wanted for his life to rock so loud and hard that everyone else had no choice but to hear it.

A loud growling noise interrupted Bradley's thoughts. He looked down, placing his hand over his stomach as he sat down on the foot of his bed. Come on, stomach, Bradley urged. That kind of language is hardly necessary. Bradley tried to think of what he could do. He finally stood, figuring that thinking too hard would get him absolutely nowhere at all. Bradley licked his lips, day dreaming of what kind of food he could have in the cabinets of his little kitchenette area of his dorm as he walked toward them. Upon opening the first cabinet Bradley frowned. It was completely empty. He opened up a few others, hoping to find even just a lone pack of Ramen Noodle Soup. Still, there was nothing.

Bradley ran a hand through his black hair. He thought he had bought some groceries last week, but he hadn't considered that the most he ever bought was frozen microwave dinners and Ramen Noodle Soup. It wasn't a lot for any one person, but Bradley was saving his money so that he could take a trip back to Atlanta, Georgia one day and be able to afford gas plus room and board. Bradley groaned, shutting the last cabinet. He moved to the fridge and yanked it open, hoping for just a little something. There had to be something. His growling stomach didn't want to let him live down the fact that he had failed to keep his dorm properly stocked with food.

Of course, the only thing Bradley had in his fridge was a six pack of Bud Light. Bradley grabbed two of the beers and headed toward the door. Usually he tried not to bother his fellow teachers with such trivial things as his hunger. Carmendy was more than likely busy, Henry hated his guts, and the others didn't really take him seriously. Apparently Music Studies wasn't a real subject. Bradley didn't mind the opposition. He usually treated everyone the same. Bradley was nice and fun-loving with everyone he spoke to. He wrote music about once having to change who he was to fit in with things. Bradley wasn't interested changing who he was again. He also wasn't interested in proving himself.

Bradley stepped out and walked up to one door he thought would maybe be helpful. He wasn't too sure. Byron Quakidis wasn't someone he had a lot of interaction with on a regular basis. The half art half english teacher was one of the few he thought would treat him with a little bit of respect at least. Bradley knocked on the door after a moment of contemplation. Byron, my artsy man, it's Bradley. I come in peace along with an extraa beeer. Bradley practically sing-songed the 'extra beer' part. He just hoped Byron would open up.

[BYRON MIKAEL QUAKIDIES]

BYRON'S GRIN ONLY GREW AS BRADLEY CALLED THROUGH THE DOOR. HE HADN'T HAD MUCH TO DO WITH THE MUSIC STUDIES TEACHER- THEIR SCHEDULES BEING TOO DIFFERENT FOR THEIR BREAKS TO COINCIDE TOO MUCH- BUT HE HAD LIKED WHAT HE'D SEEN OF HIM SO FAR. PLENTY OF THE OTHER FACTULTY MEMBERS THOUGHT MUSIC WAS A FLAKEY SUBJECT TO TEACH BUT, AS SOMEONE WHO HAD BEEN INVOLVED IN MUSIC IN DIFFERENT AREAS ALL THROUGH HIS LIFE BYRON KNEW DIFFERENTLY.

PLUS, THE MENTION OF A SPARE BEER WAS AN AWESOME BONUS.

HE SWUNG THE DOOR OPEN WITHOUT HESITATION AND SMILED AT THE GUY ON THE OTHER SIDE. BYRON HAD HAD A FEW FRIENDS LIKE BRADLEY IN COLLEGE AND HE'D NEVER HAD A PROBLEM GETTING ALONG WITH THEM.

"you been thinking about taking up a part-time act at carnivals, bradley? you've got to be a mind-reader." BYRON CHUCKLED AND GESTURED HIM IN, "come on in. don't mind the mess." BYRON SHRUGGED, SHUTTING THE DOOR BEHIND HIS COLLEAGUE. THERE WAS A SHIRT FROM YESTERDAY DRAPED OVER THE BACK OF THE COUCH, HIS BACKBACK ON THE COUCH AND SOME SOCKS MAKING THEIR HOME IN THE CORNER OF THE LIVING-ROOM AREA. DINNER AND BREAKFAST DISHES WERE STILL IN THE SINK BUT, AT LEAST IT DIDN'T SMELL LIKE HIS DORM IN COLLEGE HAD. HE LIKED TO THINK HE'D CLEANED HIMSELF UP SINCE THEN.

HIS GUITAR SAT IN THE CORNER AND THE STEREOSYSTEM BLINKED BESIDE THE TELEVISION AND A STACK OF CD'S FROM ALICE COOPER TO SOME INDIE-ROCK COMPILATIONS HE'D PICKED UP FOR A STEAL.

"i'd like to offer you something to eat but my cupboards are bare. you wouldn't know a good take-out place around here would you?" HE ASKED, FEELING NO NEED TO BEAT AROUND THE BUSH. "i was hoping someone would come around or i'd have to go searching. i've got no clue who my neighbours around here are and i haven't ad a chance to look around town either." HE ADMITTED WITH A CROOKED GRIN. HE DIDN'T LIKE TO INTRUDE ON HIS NEIGHBOURS SO SEARCHING SOMEONE OUT WOULD HAVEBEEN A HARD THING FOR HIM TO DO.

[BRADLEY WADE GLENN]

Hunger was something that Bradley knew plenty about. During his touring days Bradley would have to go without food sometimes just because they wouldn't make enough off a gig to split between them. Bradley could remember time and time again when he and the band would go to a nice restaurant and then skip on the bill. Those were faster times, though. Bradley couldn't do that now that he was in his forties. He didn't have a reason to do that anymore. Sure some money came in whenever someone would buy an album, but the fact was that though he had a good fan base and had written songs for other famous musicians, no one really knew about him. Bradley wasn't offended or hurt by it, but it meant that he wasn't a millionaire.

Bradley laughed at Byron's comment about the carnival. Yeah, I thought about it, but turns out I made the bearded lady jealous. He replied, rubbing at the light scruff on his chin. Bradley looked around the room. It reminded him of how he was in his younger days. Now that age had taken over Bradley was more careful about being a little more clean, though he had his moments. There was still a lot of that old guy left in Bradley. He just had to go through and kind of deal with it as it came. Bradley grinned as he took a couple of steps into the room. His eyes finally fell on a guitar that sat in the corner. Bradley licked his lips. Music was most definitely his weakness. He grouped himself together and glanced back to Byron.

Raising an eyebrow Bradley laughed. Alright, alright. I did come with the hopes that maybe someone in this school had more sense than I did when it came to keeping food stocked. Bradley reached his hands up, resting them behind his head with his fingers laced. Well, my fellow senseless friend, I happen to know my way around Chicago very well. He laughed as he shrugged, dropping his arms to his side. What do you say, eh? Wanna hit the town? Grab some food? Maybe a drink or five? Bradley thought for a moment that he was being a little overbearing, but he really hoped that he wasn't. It was really actually kind of rare that he got to hang with any of his fellow teachers. He hung out with Jonathan some, but he wasn't sure about what Jonathan thought of him really.

Bradley held out the extra beer that he held in his hand. Here you go, take this. He said with a laugh. Maybe that will make Chicago look a little prettier. It wasn't that Bradley hated Chicago. If Bradley hated Chicago then he wouldn't be there, but he didn't like it as much as he loved Atlanta. Perhaps that was because Atlanta was a big part of his life. Bradley didn't know really what it was that made him think the way he did.

[BYRON MIKAEL QUAKIDIES]

BYRON SMILED IN RELIEF. A LIKE-MINDED, HUNGRY FELLOW WAS MORE THAN WELCOME. BESIDES, HE DID BRING BEER AND CONVERSATION WITH HIM.

"poor lady." BYRON CHUCKLED, SHAKING HIS HEAD AT THE OTHER MAN'S SENSE OF HUMOUR. THERE HAD NEVER REALLY BEEN MUCH HUMOUR IN HIS LIFE- EXCEPT IN HIS OWN INTERNAL MONOLOGUE DEVELOPED TO KILL BOREDOM OR FILL UP THE SILENCE SO OFTEN FOUND IN HIS LIFE. THEN THERE WAS COLLEGE WHICH WAS ALL SLOG AND NOT NEARLY ENOUGH GROG, NOT IF HE'D WANTED TO GRADUATE ANYWAY. SO BYRON WAS USED TO ENTERTAINING HIMSELF BUT HAVING SOMEONE AROUND WHO HAD A SENSE OF HUMOUR WOULD BE A NICE CHANGE. HE THOUGHT TOO MANY PEOPLE TOOK THEMSELVES TOO SERIOUSLY AND THAT WAS WHY THERE WERE SO MANY CASES OF CANCER AN OTHER BODY-ROTTING DISEASES IN THE WORLD. PEOPLE STEWED WAY TOO MUCH AND HAD FORGOTTEN HOW TO HAVE FUN- NOT BE TRASH-FACED STUPID, BUT HAVE FUN.

"well, i'm glad one of us does." BYRON GRINNED AND GLANCED ABOUT. HE LIKED THE IDEA OF GOING OUT BETTER THAN HE DID OF STAYING IN AT THE MOMENT. IT WAS STRANGE BUT THE MORE TIRED HE GOT, THE WORSE HIS RESTLESSNESS GOT UNTIL IT BORDERED ON CLAUSTROPHOBIA. HE'D SEEN A FEW QUACKS ABOUT IT IN COLLEGE,PARTICULARLY AROUND EXAM TIME BUT, SHORT OF HYPOTHERAPY, THERE WAS LITTLE HE COULD DO BUT GRIN AND BARE IT. OR GET OUT. "i don't see why not. you can give me the two-dollar-tour on the way."

"thanks." HE TOOK AND UNCAPPED THE BEER, TAKING A SWIG. IT WAS COOL AND SLID DOWN HIS THROAT NIELY. YEAH, HE COULD DEFINATELY GO FOR A FEW MORE. HIS STOMACH GROWLED AND HE GRINNED AT BRADLEY SHEEPISHLY BEFORE CHANGING THE SUBJECT. "so, you lived around here long?" HE ASKED, MOVING OVER TO THE KITCHEN TO TOSS THE BOTTLE CAP. HE DIDN'T PARTICULARLY MIND CHICAGO BUT HE HADN'T SEEN ANYTHING SO FAR THAT MADE HIM WANT TO STAY PERMANENTLY. MAYBE BRADLEY'S TOUR WOULD CHANGE THAT. MAYBE BUT HE DOUBTED IT.

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