[ Although he likes people– actually, that's a strong word, like, more like he finds them fascinating– occasionally he gets the urge to disappear. Like, off the grid kind of disappear. No social media, emergency phone only (at the behest of his agent), no texts, nothing. He jokingly calls it his battery recharge time, though he thinks there's some grain of truth in there somewhere. Because while he doesn't struggle to meet his writing deadlines, whatever they happen to be, he always feels better after going away and shutting himself off from the rest of the world.
And right now is just that time. Truthfully, he's been having some difficulty concentrating on all of his projects. The folder on his computer that contains the month's current work is full of partially written drafts, some articles having several pages of starting paragraphs that go nowhere. Yesterday, he nearly pitched his entire machine in the garbage in a fit of frustration.
So it's with some relief that he's had this trip planned out a number of weeks in advance. If he had a calendar that was remotely organized, it would have every day dutifully crossed off and this date circled several times. Instead, he just has a haphazard system of reminders that go off every three minutes until he's annoyed enough to do something about it.
Eventually, he ends up on the doorstep of the cabin in upstate New York, already feeling lighter than he has in at least a month. There's a problem though and that problem is that there is chaotic noise coming from said cabin. Unlocking the door, he pushes it open and is met with several pairs of eyes staring at him in some kind of shock. Well. Alright. There's a mix up. ]
Uh, hi. I wasn't expecting... people. [ Extremely smooth. ]
Hi. [ It's not stressed, just repeated, and Felix offers a half-wave, wrist nearly colliding with the neck of the guitar. The only reason he doesn't clip himself is practice--he's had instruments haphazardly around his person since he was 8. ]
We're people.
[ Oh, smooth, Felix, really smooth. Mitch stares at him and Matt stares at him and it takes the third member of their quartet's eyes on him before he realizes that yes, he should probably say something.
Felix has the talent to get out of pretty much anything if he really wants. The current band tally is 4 speeding tickets, 2 public intoxications, and one drug posession case that he really was holding on to for a friend. The problem is that normally he doesn't have to charm people that are this ungodly attractive.
His one weakness: jawlines. ]
So-- [ He'll just carefully remove himself from how he's draped over the mic stand and take his guitar off, step forward, and surreptitiously make his way to the door to half-block the newcomer from getting in. ] Hey, hi--what cabin d'you got?
[ People. As in people he wasn't ready to deal with, because this was supposed to be his anti-social hour. Week. Whatever. Ryder looks over at the band, noting that they all seem to be waiting for the alarmingly charming one to speak up. Is he the frontman or something? Or does he just have some kind of charisma the rest of them don't have?
If anything, he's right about the charisma, since he strikes up conversation like it's as easy as breathing. No awkwardness here at all, despite the circumstances, and he feels weirdly grateful for it. This could be so much worse. ]
This one? [ Why is he unsure, he unlocked the fucking front door. Ryder holds up the key, complete with cabin number attached to one of the key rings. ]
no subject
And right now is just that time. Truthfully, he's been having some difficulty concentrating on all of his projects. The folder on his computer that contains the month's current work is full of partially written drafts, some articles having several pages of starting paragraphs that go nowhere. Yesterday, he nearly pitched his entire machine in the garbage in a fit of frustration.
So it's with some relief that he's had this trip planned out a number of weeks in advance. If he had a calendar that was remotely organized, it would have every day dutifully crossed off and this date circled several times. Instead, he just has a haphazard system of reminders that go off every three minutes until he's annoyed enough to do something about it.
Eventually, he ends up on the doorstep of the cabin in upstate New York, already feeling lighter than he has in at least a month. There's a problem though and that problem is that there is chaotic noise coming from said cabin. Unlocking the door, he pushes it open and is met with several pairs of eyes staring at him in some kind of shock. Well. Alright. There's a mix up. ]
Uh, hi. I wasn't expecting... people. [ Extremely smooth. ]
no subject
We're people.
[ Oh, smooth, Felix, really smooth. Mitch stares at him and Matt stares at him and it takes the third member of their quartet's eyes on him before he realizes that yes, he should probably say something.
Felix has the talent to get out of pretty much anything if he really wants. The current band tally is 4 speeding tickets, 2 public intoxications, and one drug posession case that he really was holding on to for a friend. The problem is that normally he doesn't have to charm people that are this ungodly attractive.
His one weakness: jawlines. ]
So-- [ He'll just carefully remove himself from how he's draped over the mic stand and take his guitar off, step forward, and surreptitiously make his way to the door to half-block the newcomer from getting in. ] Hey, hi--what cabin d'you got?
[ And it's the next one over, right? ]
no subject
[ People. As in people he wasn't ready to deal with, because this was supposed to be his anti-social hour. Week. Whatever. Ryder looks over at the band, noting that they all seem to be waiting for the alarmingly charming one to speak up. Is he the frontman or something? Or does he just have some kind of charisma the rest of them don't have?
If anything, he's right about the charisma, since he strikes up conversation like it's as easy as breathing. No awkwardness here at all, despite the circumstances, and he feels weirdly grateful for it. This could be so much worse. ]
This one? [ Why is he unsure, he unlocked the fucking front door. Ryder holds up the key, complete with cabin number attached to one of the key rings. ]