THAT'S WHAT I CALL ENTERTAINMENT , (tag: skylar~)

Though one might have thought that, from all the years of spending hours in the library at a time, Joshua did not get restless... they would really be quite mistaken. He was bored that afternoon as he tapped his pencil against the desk, have finished the notes five minutes early and been left with no choice but to sit and wait for the class to conclude. He would have taken out his bag and worked on an assignment that was due for a History class next week. He wasn't a procrastinator and preferred to have his work finished so that he could hang out with his friends without worrying about it, rather than hanging out with his friends and dreading the work he'd need to do later. However, he knew that the professor who was currently teaching wouldn't tolerate someone working on something else when they were supposed to be taking notes. He'd tried the 'but I've already finished' argument before and merely gotten a glare in response and so Joshua assumed it was best not to challenge the man further. Instead, he just sighed and wondered what he should do with his time once he was released from the clutches of the classroom. He didn't find the class itself boring--no, when Joshua was in a learning environment he was actually quite concentrated and cheerful. But when he was finished his work? Then it got boring.

A knock on the side of his desk he was paying no attention to made him look 'round sharply and then glance to the teacher for a moment to make sure that the man's attention had not been brought to them. Satisfied it had not, he scowled at the girl. "What do you want?" he asked, though he kept his voice low. "Stop tapping your pencil like that, you're driving me mad!" If she had said it in a bit of a nicer tone Joshua might have apologised. He had been jolted out of his train of thought and had paused the motion immediately when she'd hit his desk but given her rude words he was almost tempted to start up again to annoy her. It would have been childish, yes, but sometimes Joshua had habits like that. However, he didn't want to get himself into trouble, so he merely frowned at her and shoved the offending object into the coils of his binder, stuffing it back into his bag just as the bell clanged loudly in its tower. He managed to bite his tongue and stop from making a snide comment to his classmate and instead blended with the crowd heading for the grounds.

Once he pushed his way out of the double doors and into the sunshine (taking pity on a tiny freshman girl and holding it open for her as she struggled with its weight) most of the others went their separate ways. A few people grouped together and headed toward the lake, a couple started to walk toward the forest holding hands, still others spread out singularly. Joshua paced a little way behind another boy that was heading for the parking lot. The other guy (an Earth elemental, Josh recognised) got into a faded blue car and Joshua crossed the lot to the white Aventador awaiting him. He missed the days of subtlety when he didn't have to leave his car at school (it was rather obvious and he didn't trust his enemies not to mess with it eventually) but unless he moved back in with his parents there was nothing he could do. And that wasn't likely, considering the last time he'd spoken to his father the man had pinned him against the wall and ordered him out of the house.

The white sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled back slightly to expose the bare skin of his wrists--the bracelet that Annabel had made for him years ago was tucked into the pocket of his jeans. He didn't want any questions about the bracelet or his sexuality but he always kept it with him as a reminder of his baby sister. He slipped on a pair of Versace shades and got out of the car near the mall, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his meagre list of contacts, stopping on a random name. Skylar. Huh. He had never really hung around her outside of school, but now was as good a time as any, right? Shrugging to himself, he leaned against his car after the scissor doors had closed and sent her a text. 'What's up, Sky? I'm at the mall, you up for hanging out today?' It had no semblance of text speak of course--he couldn't bring himself to use such things even if it was considered acceptable over the phone or internet. 'Meet me in the parking lot if you are,' he added. 'I'll hang out by my car, it's white, you can't miss it.' Well that's true, he thought wryly, then hit 'send'.

outfit ,
his lamborghini ,