Post by BLAKE JACOB ANDREWS on Jan 10, 2010 15:45:41 GMT -5
THEY'RE GONNA CLEAN UP YOUR LOOKS WITH ALL THE LIES IN THE BOOKS
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TO MAKE A CITIZEN OUT OF YOU BECAUSE THEY SLEEP WITH A GUN AND KEEP AN[/font]
EYE ON YOU SON SO THEY CAN WATCH ALL THE THINGS YOU DO[/font][/center]
[/font][/blockquote][/blockquote]Blake Andrews suddenly awoke to something wet licking his cheek. The blonde snapped his eyes open to see white and black splotched fur right in front of him. Blinking, he recoiled and the mass of puppy soft fur shrunk in his vision to reveal Samantha, the guitarist’s blue merle Australian Shepherd puppy. The pup wuffed slightly and nuzzled his cheek. Groaning, the teen rolled over in his bed, only to have the puppy attempt to jump over the eighteen-year-old, with her back legs whacking against his backside and Sammie tumbling over him. Sighing, Blake sat up. ”Fine, girl, I’m up, I’m up,” he mumbled, picking up the canine and cradling her in his lap. Despite his insistence that it wasn’t his idea to get the dog, and that Baylin and Bailey had forced him to get her, he did love the little thing, as aggravating as she could be at times, such as when she didn’t listen to him when he commanded her to do something, despite the fact that he knew she knew them…she just ignored him. He knew to start training her early, and he had. She was around five months old now, and knew how to sit and lay down, but she never listened to him.
Sighing again, he gently set the puppy down on his bed and pushed back the covers before swinging his legs over and standing up, stretching his limbs with a yawn. Of course, the boy headed straight to the bathroom, clothes in hand, to get cleaned up for the day. Before stepping into the shower, he plugged in and turned on the straightener so it could start heating up for when he straightened out his hair, being that his hair was not naturally straight, despite his wishes that it was. Everything would be so much easier if he had naturally straight hair. Maybe then it wouldn’t require so much care. After he got out of the shower, he scrubbed his hair with the towel, brushed it out, and then used the hair dryer to dry it from there. After that, he, of course, straightened his blonde hair until it was stick straight. And then, finally, he cleaned the stud and rings in alcohol before securing them in their designated holes; the stud for the right side of his nose, and the rings for his septum and the left side of his lip. Of course, he also had a stud for his lip, but he mostly preferred the ring instead. Everybody had their preferences, didn’t they?
With his piercings sterilized and in their respective places, he slipped on a blue Hawthorne Heights v-neck tee shirt with a shark and a pair of blue skinny jeans, slipping a red and black stud belt in the belt loops, securing it before exiting the bathroom. Of course, once he did, a small furball attacked his legs. Rolling his eyes, he bent down and petted the soft fur with a goofy kind of half-smile on his lips. After a few minutes of good quality petting time, Blake stood up, stretching a bit as he did so. Not that he had much to stretch, being that he was only about average height and, honestly, it seemed like most other guys were taller than him, despite that he was supposedly in the average area. Lies, all of it. Going over to his bedstand, he grabbed three beaded bracelets (one black, one bright blue, one alternating between black and bright blue), and a chain necklace with a heart pendant hanging from the bottom. Grabbing his iPod Touch and phone, he slipped the two items in his pocket and slipped into a pair of black and blue checkered slip-on Vans before slipping on a pair of sunglasses. What? You’d be amazed how a pair of simple sunglasses can hide your identity from most fangirls. Now that he was finally done with getting ready, he left the room and headed to the living room, which was a mess, as always.
Blake rolled his eyes at the mess, although part of it was his fault, and he definitely wasn’t a clean freak. It was amusing, as some parts of the room were somewhat clean, and others were completely messy, due to Bailey cleaning to find something and then just stopping when he found it. Looking around, he sighed. Of course, everybody was gone by now. Grumbling, he grabbed his set of keys off a small table by the door, locked it, and exited the apartment. Sure, he wondered where his bandmates were, but, honestly, they were old enough to take care of themselves…okay, maybe not Bailey so much, as he was wild and spastic, but other than that. Then again, some of the others could be in their respective rooms still sleeping, he wasn’t really one to open closed doors. His room was empty, and that’s all that mattered. Glancing over to the black van that they were usually transported around in by security, not to mention where most of them hung out in the mornings while waiting for them to come out.
Honestly, the musician did not feel like being accompanied by security. It was freaking annoying, so, while looking the other way, he slide along the wall and slipped around the corner. He waited a pause, to see if any of them had noticed and then continued on his way. Where did he go? The park. Why? He really didn’t know, that’s just where his skinny jean-clad legs took him. Wandering about a bit, he finally found a nice little bench to sit down on and just listen to the music that filtered from his iTouch and through the headphones into his ears. Because, yeah, during the walk, he had kind of slipping them there. His bright blue eyes flickered around from behind his sunglasses, watching various people. Lucky for him, nobody seemed to notice who he was. The only people that could possibly do so were creepy and eerie stalkers that knew him so well to recognize him and his friends, that would of course recognize him. Thank freaking goodness. It wasn’t that he hated his fans, it was just that there were so many fan girl teenie boppers that just freaked over him. Blake much preferred the more mature, down-to-earth fans that actually talked to you, not just fawned over you. And so Blake sat there, watching people and listening to his iPod, keeping an eye out for any sudden, weird recognitions.
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template made by omgWOLF?! of CAUTION 2.0[/color] lyrics by MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE[/color] the word count is ONE THOUSAND AND EIGHTY THREE[/b] and the music player has SHUFFLE listed. BLAKE[/b] is wearing THIS! tagged for OPEN![/b] have fun![/font][/size][/blockquote]
