One Shot Requests. [CLOSED]

[KellinQuinn] Box To The Beat Of My Heart - SlapYouIntoOblivion

He’s beat boxing. I don’t even know him, but I can’t take my eyes off of him. It’s so attractive, and I don’t even know why. There’s something about the way he engrosses himself in the beat, how he moves his hand in front of his face, and how his lips smack together in perfect rhythms to make the sounds that he’s great at creating.

Leaning back in the chair, I tilt my head to the side, ignoring the comments from my friends, totally intrigued by this boy, who apparently is well-known, famous, something about a singer, and someone mentioned Dance Gavin Dance.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I knit my eyebrows together, running a hand through my red hair that I had recently dyed an off white color as an under-layer with crimson tips. It was a new look that I was going for, it works well with my pale skin, my friends say that it emphasizes the few freckles that paint my cheeks.

I know him, from somewhere, but I couldn’t tell from where, and it most certainly isn’t because of the singing, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before, but then again I rarely know what the guys in a band I listen to look like.

“Hannah, are you listening to me?” Pulled out of my trance, I look over at Rayne, raising an eyebrow, knowing that she’s biting her tongue, stopping herself from scolding me for not listening to her when she was talking. “I said did you get your score back for the exam yet?”

Shaking my head, I shrug my shoulders, feeling my bones tense, I hate thinking about the exam, I know that I did well, I thought it was the best I've ever done, but that could only mean so much, because thinking I did well doesn’t necessarily mean that I actually did well. “I didn’t get the grade back.” It was the most important exam of my college career, so far at least, it has the power to get me into a great veterinarian school or crush my dreams; I have to do well on that exam.

A kid lets out a shriek from the other side of the room, and I turn my head to look at the group of kids surrounding the beat boxing boy again. They're all in high school, the kids watching him in awe, with their phones and cameras out, taping him, which makes it obvious that he’s someone famous, but I still have no idea who he is, and I don’t know if that’s what’s making me interested or if it’s because he’s so good looking.

Biting down on my lower lip, I wrinkle my nose, smelling the beer that my friends are drinking, and it smells gross. “You know, the more beer you drink, the fatter you get.” It was an offhand comment, one that they are supposed to hear, but I say it all the time, and each time they roll their eyes and ignore me, but they normally do that. Not that I care, especially not now, because I can’t stop myself from wondering about this boy who appears to be good at everything.

Though it’s impossible to be good at everything, that there will always be one thing, at least one thing, that someone cannot do perfectly, he seems like he’s doing all he can to prove that wrong. “Kellin, do Aliyah. Do Aliyah. It’s your best one.” They’re extremely loud, they're not the only people eating here, but they don’t seem to care, and he nods his head, only to tell them that he’ll do it after he does a new one for them, and I find it hard to stay in my seat and not walk over there to listen to him up close.

“Are you seriously staring at Kellin Quinn right now?” Jackie asks, and I don’t know how she knows who he is, it doesn’t make any sense, how does she know who he is, I don’t know everyone she does, but she’s not into music, she could care less about music. Sighing, she places her bottle of beer down on the table, clearly understanding that I'm utterly confused. “Kellin Quinn, Hannah, we went to high school with him. You had art with him every year.”

Dragging the charcoal across the canvas, I furrow my eyebrows, realizing that this isn’t the texture that I wanted, this isn’t what I wanted at all, but I can’t start over now, charcoal doesn’t erase like a pencil does. Running a hand through my hair, I groan, chewing on my lower lip, reaching forward to grab my headphones, needing to listen to music, anything to inspire something to come out of the horrible decision.