Post by EZRA BRIAR CUETO on Feb 28, 2010 12:47:01 GMT -5
- - - - - ezra briar cueto.
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WELCOME TO SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA. FIRST, WE NEED TO GET TO KNOW A LITTLE BIT ABOUT YOU. TELL US YOUR NAME, NICKNAMES, AGE, JOB, ETC.
“ hey there. the name’s ezra. ezra briar cueto. you can call me ez, ezzie, whatever you want. i’m pretty chill about nicknames. unless it’s an insult than you can fuck off, yeah? who knows why someone named me ezra. it was my grandfather’s name so it’s in his memory or something. right, so i’m eighteen years old. birthday’s on feburary 14. buy me some presents, alright? yeah yeah, wait. wait...you need to know my gender? you gotta be kidding me. you can’t already tell? do you need proof? yeah i’ve got proof i’m a guy. wanna see it? oh, hey calm down. fine. i won’t. heritage? oh, well i’m kind of a mutt. if i went in to the list it’d bore you, so just don’t worry about it. i’m pretty tall i’d say. around 6 feet, maybe a little taller. i don’t know my exact height, it’s not a big deal. hell, it doesn’t matter when you’re laying down now does it? oh come on, you don’t like that? fine. forget i said it then."
NOW TELL US ABOUT YOUR LIKES, DISLIKES, AND JUST YOUR PERSONALITY IN GENERAL. WHAT KIND OF PERSON ARE YOU? BE DESCRIPTIVE SO WE CAN GET TO KNOW THE REAL YOU.
" my personality, huh? oh i guess you’re in for a treat. a lot of people think i’m pretty simple on the outside, all about hanging out, skating, drugs and girls. you know, the usual guy stuff. skating has kind of become my life. well, skating drugs and girls. there isn’t anything better than those things, y’know? some people think i’m an asshole because i don’t seem to care about much else, but that’s not all i am. people only see what they wanna see i guess. if people wanna think of me as an asshole, let them. i’ve even been called a womanizer before, hah. i think that’s hilarious. it’s the girls that use me, yeah? they’re the ones who lead me on, string me along make them their little bitch and then toss me to the curb. that’s why i’m so bitter and dismissive about them. oh don’t give me that look, you would be the same way if you were treated the way i was. i’d blame my lack of steady relationships on my mom if i was going to blame anyone. skateboarding’s my one true love, anyways. well that and good old mary jane. we’re the menage a trois around. so i guess i have this weird thing where i distrust almost everyone i meet at first, but that doesn’t mean i’m not friendly. hell i love friends, just don’t expect me to pour my heart out or tell you my life’s story within a week of meeting you. even some of my closest friends now don’t know the whole story. i don’t know, when it all comes down to it i’m a complicated person. i’ve got tons of little quirks, i guess. i’m one of those who tries to be there for his friends and family, but when things get too heavy i tend to run no matter what. no, not like relationships. just...situations. i’m not good at facing problems head-on. with relationships i’d be there. i just need someone to give me a chance, you know? sure i cause trouble occasionally, stir the pot, create waves when there shouldn’t be any, but not when it comes to love. just when it comes to other shit. if i have to face the problems head on i don’t take the situation seriously. all i am is sarcastic and flippant about the whole thing. shit, it gets me in trouble all the time. i get the shit end of the stick most times. i’m always the last one picked, the one who gets the scraps nobody wants. guess that’s why nobody ever really wants me. i’m overlooked and counted out. well, fuck, you’re asking a lot of me. i’m just going to leave it at that. laid-back and i don’t give a fuck about a lot on the outside, complicated as fuck on the inside. i guess it’s up to you to get to know all my sides. "
LET'S DIVE INTO YOUR HISTORY. NOTHING IS TOO PERSONAL. TELL US ABOUT WHERE YOU'RE FROM AND HOW YOU ENDED UP IN THE LAND DOWN UNDER.
" oh, fuck. history, huh? well i’m not so sure about what happened before i was born. i’m guessing the usual my parents fell in love, got married and moved to sydney. they’ve always lived here in the land down under. i was born, i’m the middle child in my family actually. i have an older sister and a younger brother. well, the younger brother is just a step-brother. so i don’t know what that exactly makes me, whatever. and i guess i was born in a time where my parent’s lives were starting to fall apart. they’d thought that a baby would help salvage their relationship, and i was that solution. and i guess it worked for a few years, i mean at least i remember they had happy faces on up until i was about 7. then they decided they just couldn’t do it anymore, so my dad left. and, hilarious twist of fate. and just so you know that’s sarcasm, he ended up dying in a car-wreck that night. so of course my mom became a wreck and everything in the family fell apart. i wasn’t old enough to ever deal with any of this, so my sister kind of had to take over at only 13. everything in the family just fell apart, it was miserable. but, eventually my mom fell back in love with some guy and they had a kid together, so i had another sibling. but i guess that didn’t work out either, and they’re separated. my mom’s been seeing people on and off since that day, and the relationships never really last for more than a few months. she’s a wreck most of the time, taking to booze to solve her problems and i guess i took a page out of her book and took to drugs to avoid mine. but instead of staying in the house with an unstable mother and a stressed out sister taking care of the youngest sibling, i’d just not come home after school, or i’d leave early in the morning and come back late at night. i took to the skate park and the streets, and i guess that’s how i ended up falling in to this group. since skating’s what i love to do, and all. yeah, that’s it. boring, shitty family history for you. "
you can call me cal. i'm spinning twenty tracks on my record and i hang out in the eastern timezone. alrighty, don't hate at me just because i'm using luke pasqualino's face, he falls into the skater dudes just in case you're looking for me, i also play none yet. did you hear about the word? ADMIN is the word. k, let's do this.
The stars were bright tonight despite the Vegas lights. He liked nights like this, where he could lay on the roof of their apartment building and stare up at the clear night sky, speckled with bright flickering lights. He’d just lay there and let everything go. His mind would empty, and his brown eyes would flicker in the lights. Nobody ever knew, but occasionally the combination of the beauty of it all and suppressed emotions would make him cry. He wouldn’t go in a fit of sobbing and wheezing, it would be a silent one, where all the sudden he’d feel the heat of the tears fall down the side of his face as he gazed upward. He was lucky nobody would ever show up on the roof during these moments, since who knows how people would feel about him. Blake already heard a ton of different insults on a daily basis, but the bulk of them were asshole, jerk, or douche bag. If anybody ever saw him at those moments in time, he might just be called a pansy or a pussy, something like that. He was surprised his brother never came up here when he’d come home and Blake wasn’t there. But he was glad Miguel, Cheyenne or any other band member never saw him like this - even if he’d seen him in other compromising situations, having this just gave him some sort of solace.
It had been a long day in the studio. He’d hardly found time to get outside, only watching the sun set through the few windows in the building as they hours progressed. The executives called it time to wrap up and Blake found himself searching for something to do. He didn’t want to go back to the bus just yet, didn’t want to stop playing. An idea struck as his eyes fell on the guitar he kept in the studio. Running fingers through his hair he walked over to the aforementioned guitar, its warm wooden body gleaming in the light, strings beckoning to be strummed. So his hand wrapped around the neck, inlaid with abalone shell and hoisted it off the stand. Heavy footsteps carried him out of the studio and up the stairs to the roof where he went to his usual spot and folded his legs beneath him. He rested the guitar in his lab delicately and let his fingers wrap around the neck while his fingers found the strings. His other arm rested across the body of the guitar as his fingers curled to strum up and down to an imaginary rhythm. Blake didn’t play a song, he just moved his fingers and strummed the way it felt right. Dark eyes watched the skyline, the sparkling hotels and city lights below and the flickering night sky above, seemingly infinite. The notes carried from the guitar over the vast city as he played, eyes up towards the sky as he felt his mind drift. It wasn’t emptying itself like normal, it seemed to be piling up with everything he’d made himself try and forget.
Tonight, though the setting and the scenery was the same, was completely different than all the other nights he spent up here. The strumming of his guitar stopped for a moment as he took in a deep breath, letting himself fall on to his back to gaze upwards. The weight of the guitar pressed down on his chest as he still found himself strumming the strings as his focus didn’t break from the night sky. He let his thoughts run free, and felt himself drifting back in time. One slow blink and he found himself back in Argentina, running and playing and smiling with Miguel and the rest of his siblings while their father was away. Back when he felt that pure unadulterated happiness. Though one more blink and it changed. His thoughts skipped to the day he went to a friends house after school, and how Miguel had decided against it and just went home instead. He began to wonder what would have happened if they hadn’t separated. If things would have been better, been different for the two of them, if they wouldn’t have become such fragile and broken things. But like most situations in life, it was all what if. His eyes closed on the scene while his mind raced before opening back up to the vast night sky. If they’d stayed together they probably wouldn’t have been so messed up. But it still helped that they’d found each other again - whether it was fate, chance or that freaky twin ESP talk about that just drew them both to this city. Whatever it was, Blake knew he felt whole again now that he and Miguel were together. Despite that empty feeling in his heart he’d had since he was 12 that never seemed to go away, whenever Miguel was there it wasn’t as painful or obvious. But, he was glad in a way that none of that happened to his other half. If it had been Miguel instead of him, Blake wouldn’t be able to live with it. He protected Miguel, and if he’d failed at that, he’d have felt so torn apart he wouldn’t be able to deal. It was still difficult to deal with, everything that had happened to them and between them, but all in all they still survived. Though as his brother knew, the thought of ending it all had crossed Blake’s mind more than once. But, promises had been made and he wasn’t one to ever break a promise. Hell, if he broke that promise both Miguel and Cheyenne would probably kill him. He couldn’t do that to them, even if he felt life wasn’t worth it most of the time.
He felt them. The hot sting of tears leaking out of his eyes and sliding down his face. With all those thoughts racing around and all those raw emotions spilling outward, they came. Fast and furiously, they came. His fingers had still been instinctually plucking the strings of the guitar, the callouses on his fingers starting to give way as they tightened on the strings unintentionally. If he kept it up his fingers would no doubt start bleeding. But still he strummed, didn’t bother wiping his face as his face leaked and his vision blurred, the once separate stars bleeding in to one another. He felt a bittersweet smile wipe across its face, there and gone in an instant. His fingers kept moving and the tears kept coming with every passing minute he lay there on the roof. ignoring the pain starting to sear through already worn fingers. It was quiet here...peaceful...just what he needed.