i'm wide awake, it's morning. [jos]

[Owen Collins]

YOU SAID THIS CITY HAS A BEATING HEART,

T H A T . P U S H E S . P E O P L E . D O W N . T H E . B O U L E V A R D

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[/FONT][/SIZE][/B]f Owen had to pick one thing he missed the most by being stuck for the foreseeable future in Kasabi, it was Oregon’s weather. God. Winters were cold there. Not like…Montana, or Michigan, or anywhere like that – but you could tell it was winter there. There was snow. Here, it was like the weather didn’t change all year. Nights got shorter and longer; aside from that, there was little distinction between seasons. That may have been an incentive of living here for some people, but he couldn’t stand it. He had to tolerate between six months of warm weather no matter where he went, but on the island it was like an additional…five and three-fourths of a month. The remaining one-fourth was when it was pouring rain. Or, like, screwed up weather – as in a nearby tsunami, which was rather unusual. Someday he was going to get out of Kasabi – just for a few days – and go to Oregon or Washington – maybe Canada, Vancouver was gorgeous in winter – and just…be freaking cold. It would be wonderful.

Upon deciding this, he glanced around the small expanse of beach he was standing on. If he went back inside the house, it would probably be a lot cooler, his mind reasoned. God knows he annoyed the band enough with turning the air conditioning up as often as they turned it back down. Still. It was nicer out here. Kill the Light’s house was too quiet when everyone was asleep – hard to believe, coming from him. But it was true. He could stand the house when it was empty, or when everyone was there and being loud. He just felt so awkward when it was quiet and not empty. Of course, there were a few other reasons he was staying outside, too, but he didn’t particularly want to dwell on those. …It wasn’t like it was his fault Josie was still mad. After all, when was Josie not mad at him? He let out a quiet sigh. He’d rather stay outside anyway, dammit.

He sat on a large rock a few feet from the house, blue eyes flickering around the sand. He had brought a jacket outside with him, albeit a light one, as if in hopes that it would alter the temperature. No such luck, apparently. And it was already, what? Eight, nine in the morning? God. It was only going to get warmer, too. He slid off the rock, nearly pouting as he stepped a whole three feet back into the house. Slipping his phone out of his pocket to check the time, he decided he had about an hour or so until someone woke up and turned the air down. Not that he had been the one to turn the thermostat to sixty-three degrees, though. Psh. Him? No. At least, not if he left before someone noticed. …In that case, he guessed he probably should leave soon. Owen made his way back to his room to retrieve his car keys, which ended up taking a good five and a half minutes, as they had slipped behind the desk. This resulted in a clumsy struggle to move the desk forward, only for Owen to realize that he could have, in fact, reached them behind the desk easily enough before. Brilliant.

He was on his way to the garage, though he had to pause at a doorway. No. He shouldn’t. She was already pissed with him. No. He wasn’t that stupid. He had self-control. He didn’t have to be a total brat to Josie just because he wanted to. …No. Nevertheless, he opened the door, hardly making sure to be quiet as he moved her cell phone from its previous location on the nightstand to a shelf of her closet – she could sleep through a freaking tsunami. He prepared to exit the room, slightly cheered from his routine annoyance of Josie, and was graceful enough to kick over the small trash can. Owen froze. Shit. Shit. Shit. She was going to wake up, and she was pissed, and for all he knew, she still had that freaking knife from the mall, and…shit. He was screwed, he realized with an association of assorted panicked thoughts.

Hoping she hadn’t woken up yet, he bent down to replace the contents of the trash. Supposing she didn’t, it wouldn’t help anything when she woke up missing her phone, and her trash can was spilled across her floor. After all, she was just Josie – not a total slob. She wouldn’t have, say, two-week old food in her trash. God, he was such an idiot. Why would he attempt to annoy her when she already wasn’t happy with him? …Obviously, he knew why: it would be too weird not to. It would be like they were actually fighting or something – as opposed to one-sided aggression on her part, as he saw it. Still, he realized how…immature, really, he was being. And he was one of the older members of the band, too. Dammit. He had nearly managed to kick back most of the trash – just paper, for the most part – back into the can with his shoe by now. But, as he was preparing to finish the job and set the can back up, he noticed something…unusual, you could say. Being as curious as he was, he proceeded to observe this article with a mildly bothered expression. And then he realized what it was. “…the hell?” Eyes widened, he nearly forgot that he was, in fact, still in Josie’s room. And then he realized what the plus sign had to mean. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God.” He repeated this a few more times in a rather confused voice. As he realized (to some degree) what this meant, “Oh my God!”
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[/b][/color]josie!
word count:[/color] nine fifty-four
notes:[/color] uhm. yeah. you can't have a thread
with owen without some invasion of privacy, you know? >_>
credits:[/color] template & banner by anchor, of
caution. song lyrics by death cab for cutie.[/ul][/color][/size]

[Josie Torres]

SOMETIMES I FIND IT HARD
• to believe there's someone else who could be •
JUST AS MESSED UP AS ME

The total expanse of time in the last week or so has gone by as though it were a dream for Josie. Granted, it may have not really been the best dream but she still didn’t feel like herself. It was as though she was watching herself as she went around her daily routines. If anyone knew Josie well, being so reserved should already send a warning sign that something was wrong. She did try to cover it up saying that she was feeling quite sick but she could only cover it up for so long. Soon her band members and friends would become suspicious. Not to mention, if she was truly pregnant, the bump would soon start to show. She called it the bump of hell, or for those not so into vulgar language, horror. This trauma all started a few days earlier when she had been throwing up with ‘the flu’….

Josie lay sprawled out on the bathroom floor. The cool tile floor refreshed her beading forehead as her eyes focused on the small detail of the grout between the tiles. Her imagination wandered, creating a whole city across the bathroom floor and the grout as the streets. She could see little cars driving around with people scattered about. Some might mistake her for crazy but she was just delusional from the pain in her abdomen. She was number now as she lay there in an almost content state, if it could be called that. Part of her was glad that her stomach was settled for a little while but the other part of her knew that another spurt of vomiting would occur in the near future. Let’s just say, she wasn’t getting her hopes up about being over this sickness.

She heard a knock on the door, it was one of the band members asking if she was alright. That was a stupid question to ask. Did it sound like she was alright? If they put two and two together, they would realize if she was feeling better, she wouldn’t be sprawled on the bathroom floor thinking that it was actually quite comfortable. She could only imagine how much dirt and germs she was probably exposing herself to now but that was the least of her concerns. She felt her stomach muscles contract and she lifted herself to the toilet just in time to not make a mess on the floor. Her throat burned as the stomach acid was brought up. This was a point in her life that she was just praying for death over this. I mean at least when you’re dead you can’t vomit.

She had locked the door to the bathroom when she first went in. She didn’t need any of her friends come in and see her in such a state of pain. She lay back down on the tile burying her head in her arm. She was trying to name who would’ve gave her this horrible flu. There was just one problem, nobody she had come in contact in the past few months had the flu from what she could see. She knew well enough not to use that as an excuse though. The horrifyingly true thought was hidden in the back of her mind since she felt no desire to even think of the possibility. As she lay there in her thoughts, it was all becoming cleared in her mind. The truth of the matter was, she hadn’t gotten her period yet and she was going on 2 weeks late. That never happened.

Now as Josie lay in her bed in the early morning, she was fast asleep, nobody was waking her. She hadn’t gone out partying last night or the nights before that because of her ‘sickness’ so she had gone to bed early. Owen should feel quite lucky for her sickness distracting her from ripping him up. The whole situation should be blown over already but Josie just dragged the torture on more and more. All of her band mates, crew members, and friends were trying/begging/pleading for the two of them to just stop the bickering and fighting and just realize that they didn’t actually hate each other, no matter how much they try to put off. Owen, in fact, hadn’t been doing many pranks ever since her sickness started which proved to be an improvement in her life, not having to worry about Owen’s stupid immature pranks.

Normally Josie wouldn’t even wake up to the garbage can falling over but her puppy Stella had insisted on sleeping on the bed with her tonight and Josie didn’t have the heart to move her. So the excellent guard dog Stella was, she let out a soft growl when Owen had kicked down the garbage can. Josie was pretty sure she rubbed off on Stella because even Stella wasn’t fond of Owen. The white ball of fluff jumped down to the bed after stretching and let out a yap. The high pitch bark along with the accompanied Oh my Gods, was the perfect alarm clock for Josie. Her eye lids fluttered opened, her mind thinking, who the hell woke me up. She sat up to observe the surroundings. When she saw Owen with an all to familiar test her eyes widened. Shit. She would have to now cover up that she was pregnant. She just hoped all those years that she participated in acting that she could convince Owen otherwise. “ Owen, what the hell are you doing in here?!” she got out of her bed grabbing the test from him throwing it in the trash and brought the garbage can out so the evidence was gone. “ Why the fuck was that in my garbage? “ she tried hopelessly to make arguments for why it wouldn’t be hers. She was torn between being angry at Owen for being in her room or trying to cover up her lies. If only he couldn't see right through her lies.

TAGGED ! Owen
WORDS ! 999
OUTFIT ! Christmas influenced pjs!
LYRICS ! sometimes by skillet
TEMPLATE ! PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION
NOTES ! so sorry that it’s not the best post. I was falling asleep and I have to get back in the swing of things.

[Owen Collins]

YOU SAID THIS CITY HAS A BEATING HEART,

T H A T . P U S H E S . P E O P L E . D O W N . T H E . B O U L E V A R D

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[/FONT][/SIZE][/B]hile it may not have seemed like it to some a lot of people, Owen could, in fact, seriously care a good deal about something. Dammit. He did. He cared about a lot of things – he just didn’t always act like it. He knew from experience that it could be more than slightly annoying when someone was totally serious about every fucking thing that went on in their life, positive and negative alike. And he just…wasn’t that kind of person. So he threw solemnity and gravity out the window. Metaphorically speaking, of course. …Though he supposed it would be interesting to literally throw emotional qualities out a window. Anyway. One of the things he was a lot more concerned about than he seemed was Kill the Lights. Obviously. And the actual being in the band was only part of it – of course creating music and the like was...incredible, but it wasn’t everything. The band, individually, was the main part of it. After living on the island for so long with just the band, he honestly couldn’t imagine not doing so. He wouldn’t want to, anyway. He held no regret for meeting anyone in the band – he wasn’t sure what he’d do without them. Josiah was one of those people you just enjoy being around, or, in Owen’s mind, at least, even if Owen had graced him with a few especially…bratty pranks. And Josie wasn’t as much of a bother to Owen as he acted like she was, either. Believe it or not, they could be quite pleasant towards each other. Not in a long time, but he could remember them actually acting like friends. He said acting, because they were actually friends…even recently. They were just acting as if they weren’t. There was a large difference Because what kind of friends didn’t slash the other’s tires, or regularly imply homicidal threats? Probably the same kind of friend that announces falsely that their friend is pregnant, and is a total nag towards the other. …Suckish friends. Which Owen and Josie definitely were not.

He was rather surprised Josie hadn’t already stabbed him before he kicked the bucket. …Literally. Ha. Seriously, though. Normally, she had some sort of sixth-sense that let her know when Owen was within a mile or so. Even though she could sleep through someone bombing the house, if Owen was attempting to steal something from her room, or prank her, or anything, she was awake and bloodthirsty like the normal Josie. It was scary. And people didn’t believe he had suffered serious mental trauma thanks to her. Psh. Then again, she had been…weird lately. She hadn’t been out nearly as late as she usually was, and she’d been almost more pissed off every time he spoke to her much earlier than mid-afternoon. So maybe it was normal for her to not immediately be conscious of his entrance. Disconcerting, but possibly normal.

Stella, however, was a different matter altogether. She was Josie’s dog, no doubt about it. If he had to guess, he would say Josie would be incarnated into a dog exactly like Stella. Except Stella was a lot cuter than Josie. And Stella had never dragged him into Victoria’s Secret. Owen’s other theory was that Stella was a demon, assuming dog-form in order to assist Josie in someday murdering him. No, really. The dog was vicious. Yeah, she looked like a tiny ball of fur, and had the sweetest eyes Owen had ever seen, but – she was almost as scary as Josie herself. She had actually chased him around the house for absolutely no reason, barking – no, yapping. The dog was too tiny to really bark – as if she were trying to eat him. All five and a half pounds of her. It was fucking scary. And he hadn’t done anything – the dog just plain hated him. So it shouldn’t have been a surprise who the first one to notice Owen’s dramatic attempt at an exit. He jumped at the all-too-familiar high-pitched bark. “Stell! Stell, quiet. Please, Stella!” His near-hysterial whispers were an attempt to sooth the dog before she woke Josie, but they didn’t seem to have any positive effect. If anything, Stella was only more determined to wake her.

And she did. Josie had noticed him a beat later than he expected, but still too early for him to make a mad run from the house. After a moment of what seemed to be slight confusion, Josie was yelling at him and out of her bed. He hardly took a minute to process her initial question, though. Honestly, he was just about as…upset, confused? as he had been in a long time. What the hell was going to happen to the band if Josie was actually pregnant? His thoughts quickly turned irritated, though. Was this how little Josie cared about the band? Her next question made him do something relatively unorthodox for Owen. Was she honestly trying to say the fucking pregnancy test wasn’t hers? Who the hell else’s would it be? Josiah’s? His? He turned to her, completely bypassing the coldness he usually showed at the beginning of a lesser argument, and snapped, “What the hell, Josie? Really? You know why it was fucking there.” He was mildly surprised at himself. He had completely ignored his usual near-passive-aggressive approach to an issue, and instead just…exploded. The scary thing now was that he knew this was hardly the end of the falling out – far from it, actually. He started speaking again almost immediately, not wanting to even hear her justifications, no matter how true they might be. “Dammit, Josie! What were you thinking?” He didn’t even recognize his whole transformation to brother-mode, though it was clear that’s where this was going. Of course, Josie was the last person who needed him to nag to her, or needed a new older brother, for that matter, considering she already had one.

And this was why Owen rarely felt compelled to be serious about a matter.
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[/b][/color]josie!
word count:[/color] nine hundred ninety-seven
notes:[/color] no, yours was fine. sorry about the wait.
credits:[/color] template & banner by anchor, of
caution. song lyrics by death cab for cutie.[/ul][/color][/size]