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Post by Christian Patrick Elliot on Mar 28, 2007 0:54:59 GMT 7
Silver-grey clouds covered the New York sky, hints of blue peeking out every so often to contrast the wintery blanket that settled in only moments earlier. The sun was taking its time coming out from behind the clouds, casting sunspots on the concrete and tiniest shreds of grass just beginning to poke through the earth. Although winter was coming to an end, the season still had New York in its grasp, albeit barely.
The temperature was just beginning to climb until it was bareable to walk around with but a jacket and jeans. Just two weeks ago there had been snow on the ground, layering the sidewalk and leaving muddy footprints once the rain had set in a day later. Seeing the tips of grass pushing through the dirt now, it was hard to believe it had snowed at all.
Music drifted through the chilly March air, melodies and harmonies traveling a good distance to reach Christian's ear and peak his interest. Normally he would have been aware of the free concerts in Central Park; however, he had been in Chicago for the past week, spending a chunk of his yearly vacation time with his parents.
Strangely enough, they had both taken two days out of their busy schedules to spend time with their only son. It was a nice change. In the past, Christian would come home to his old nanny and an empty house. He only got the pleasure of seeing his parents at night, once they returned home from work.
Now, as he strode down the New York sidewalk, he began to regret not checking up on his laptop to see who was playing once he returned home. The sound was not familiar and did not ring any bells in Christian's ears. He was relatively aware of the music scene in the city, so his intrigue grew when he realized the music traveling through the air was new to him.
With hands in his jean pockets, Christian made his way through traffic and stoplights, slowing his stride when he approached Central Park. The closer he got, the taller he felt. A small, wooden stage was set up in front of a cluster of trees, surrounded by several teenagers and a few spectators who stopped to listen. Their sound wasn't bad, but it wasn't particularly the kind of music Christian listened to. Nevertheless, he halted a few feet back from the crowd and crossed his arms over his chest, listening and enjoying the feeling of being back home.
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Post by Keith Lewis on Mar 28, 2007 1:31:23 GMT 7
The atmosphere at Central Park was an unusual one. Most people went there in the afternoon for a nice relaxed stroll or something along those lines. Today that would be nearly impossible with the sounds of guitars and drums pounding through the park, followed by what sounded like an untrained but bare-able voice, reaching nearly the other side of the park. Thats where Keith was sitting, trying to warm his hands by rubbing them together.
Curious and not knowing what else to do, Keith stood up and began to slowly walk in the direction of the music. He buried his hands into the pockets of his jacket, hoping the material would warm them up better then he could as he continued to walk towards the music. Teenagers would run past him towards the sound of the music with eager looks on their faces, obviously they cant wait to get to where the noise was coming from.
The music reminded him of times when he would go to concerts in Indianapolis. Greenwood never really got concerts. No good ones anyway. His friends and him would be in the mosh pit and about half way through the concert his friends would start fights with everyone just for the hell of it. Keith would be there enjoying the concert while behind him his friends were knocking teeth out. He rarely joined in though, only if someone bugged him. The main one that stuck out in his mind though was a Korn concert he was dragged along too. Every single person in the crowd joined in the fight, and for once it wasn't his friends that started it.
He reached the music and saw a small stage holding a bunch of teens making the music he heard so far away. They must've though so highly of themselves because they had the biggest grins he had ever seen each time they saw someone new approaching. The only one not smiling was the drummer who seemed to be hard in concentration.
He stood near the back of the growing crowd, making sure he was a good few steps behind the screaming teens. The music wasn't bad but it wasn't something that he'd go out and buy, or download. But it was alright. He couldn't see them getting signed, although he wouldn't be surprised with the lack of talent that was out there these days. He looked amongst the crowd when he noticed a familiar face. Christian Elliot.
Keeping his now warm hands inside his pockets so that they wouldn't get cold, Keith walked towards Christian. "Sup dude" Keith said nudging him slightly so that Christian knew he was there, if he couldn't hear over the music. But it crazy loud so he should have been able to hear him.
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Post by Christian Patrick Elliot on Mar 28, 2007 2:27:29 GMT 7
The tiniest wrinkle of a frown creased Christian's brow when he felt a nudge. Not a naturally social being, Christian had not expected to see anyone he recognized at the park that afternoon. He was on his final day of vacation, so his co-workers were all at the office working away. Besides his friends from work and his family, Christian did not have many other social connections. Of course, he did have acquaintances around the city, thanks to his career choice, but he doubted any of them would be extroverted enough to approach him in public.
Thus, when he was nudged and heard the faint sound of a familiar voice in his ear, Christian bore a look of temporary confusion. Upon turning his head and looking at the figure beside him, however, his memory jogged and a small smile graced his rough, angular features. He and Keith had developed a friendship over the past several months, both linked through Rutherford University.
Christian nodded his hello and glanced back at the stage, just in time to see one of the teenagers crowd-surfing through the group of high school students. He raised an eyebrow, wondering how long the chaos would last before a security guard broke it up. Nodding his head toward the crowd, the teenager in particular, he asked, "Is that your kind of scene?" Christian knew the younger man enjoyed music, though he never really asked what genre or type.
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Post by Keith Lewis on Mar 28, 2007 2:52:33 GMT 7
His head turned to the side to see what Christian had nodded at. One of the teens crowd-surfing. A quiet chuckle escaped his lips at the thought of that being his scene. It used to be, kind of. He'd only ever crowd surfed once and that was after being pulled on stage by his friends at a local crowd, then being roughly pushed off by one of the security guards. He was sure they weren't supposed to push people off the stage. What if no one caught him, then he would have broken some bones. But he didn't, instead he landed on the hands of all the people in the crowd. It was awesome crowd surfing although he didn't feel all too safe and he wouldn't do it again. But it was a good memory.
"Nah," Keith replied after a short while of reminiscing. "Not anymore" He smirked turning back to Christian. He realised he didn't really know anything about Christian when it came to music. They were fairly good friends yet they hardly talked about music. "What about you? Is that your scene?" He asked with a little laugh. He didn't look the type to listen to amateur bands but you never know what people might listen to.
Turning to face the crowd, he took his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms, watching all the teens get rowdy. He spotted a bunch of boys that reminded him of his old group of friends in Indiana. Just the way they looks, mischievous and up to no good. Like they were going to plan something. Keith scratched his jaw as he watched the boys, wondering what they were planning. He had been around enough guys like them to know that there wasn't any logic in the way their mind worked.
"Hey," Keith said not taking his eyes off the boys as he nudged Christian again. "What do you reckon that group of boys is up to?" He asked curiously, crossing his arms again. His stare caught the attention of one of the boys in the group, the kid flipped him off before turning back to his friends and continuing his talk with them, a suspicious smirk plastered on his face.
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Post by Christian Patrick Elliot on Mar 28, 2007 3:21:08 GMT 7
The question humoured Christian, just as it had kind of humoured Keith. He smiled softly, that classic, hidden thought smile that so often occupied his lips. "No," he said, shaking his head and watching the group of teenagers jump up and down to the music. Some of them were even dancing, and from the looks of it, there might be a mosh pit beginning to form near the interior of the circle.
"More into the punk scene, myself," he said, voice still low, but loud enough to be heard over the sound of the band. He was kidding, of course, and the look he gave Keith gave it away. In fact, Christian knew nothing about punk music - or the emo music his little sister loved so much. She was constantly breaking rules at home, sneaking out to whatever shows were playing at the House of Blues or Charter One Pavilion. An avid Fall Out Boy fan, she had even managed to break her ankle climbing through the second-story window to sneak out to one of their secret shows.
Just thinking about Bianca and her rambunctious attitude and taste in music made the colour in Christian's face pale a little. He was relatively protective of his little sister, though they lived miles and miles apart. The music streaming through the air right now would be more her taste than anything. Christian was raised on jazz music and classic rock, definitely not anything like this.
Another nudge from Keith brought the journalist out of his head. Focusing his gaze on the kids Keith pointed out, a frown creased his brow and he made a deep sound in his throat, a thoughtful contemplation. "Trouble," he responded. When the teenager shot Keith a bird, Christian lowered his eyebrows, unimpressed. Some children were so disrespectful. "Probably wanting to start a fight," he said. Christian was far from aware of the routine teenagers went through at these types of concerts. He had never been to one, honestly.
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Post by Keith Lewis on Mar 28, 2007 3:39:27 GMT 7
Keith's head jerked towards Christian when he said he was into the punk scene, his eyebrows raised to show his curiosity and shock. Then he saw Christians face and realized he was kidding. "I thought you were serious for a minute there" He laughed, slowly turning back to look at the crowd who were getting more pumped by the minute.
Punk wasn't the worst music out there, but it definitely wasn't the best. Nothing could beat the good old classics. Back in Black by AC/DC was still one of the biggest selling albums of all time. He didn't expect that to change any time soon, especially if the band performing in front of him was the face of future music. Hopefully they weren't though, and everyone would still listen to the old stuff, though he doubted it by the way the crowd was acting.
Nodding in agreement with Christian about the boys being up to no good, Keith took another step back. If what he thought was about to happen, he didn't want to be too close to it. After all he might be pulled into whatever 'it' was. Which was probably a fight. It probably wouldn't become too bad because there were only about 5 or so guys that he could see but then again, anything was possible.
"You might wanna step back. They'll probably start fighting soon" Before Keith had even finished the sentence the first punch was thrown by a small boy that he saw standing next to the one that flipped him off earlier. Being smart performers, the band just continued playing, trying to ignore the small fight going on below them in the crowd. Keith looked out and saw the boy that flipped him off throwing punches of his own, to a bunch of different people at the same time. Keith didn't wanna say it, but the boy had some skills.
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Post by Christian Patrick Elliot on Mar 28, 2007 3:57:31 GMT 7
Christian stepped back in unison with Keith, a bit hesitant towards whatever the teenagers were about to do. The journalist had always been a little detached from the kids his age in high school. While all of the kids were listening to the hard rock or Top 40 hits, Christian had been listening to what he always had. Aerosmith had been a popular CD to find playing in his car throughout his high school years.
Because of this, it was no surprise when Christian's eyes widened as the boy threw his first punch. His dark eyes flickered from the growing group of fighters to the band onstage. They were not even reacting; pretending, instead, that everything was just swell.
"Are they not going to do anything?" Christian leaned over towards Keith, making sure the younger man could hear him over the increased sound in the park. His eyes never left the group of rambunctious teenagers, as though he was fearful that he somehow might get dragged in if he wasn't on guard. However, they were a good distance from the riot, safe from harm.
It did not take long for the mosh pit to melt and include practically every teenager within range. It appeared as though some were pulled into the mess involuntarily. The expression on one teenage girl had gone from happy to frightened in just a matter of seconds. It made Christian furrow his brows and glance around for a security guard, but none were in sight.
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Post by Keith Lewis on Mar 28, 2007 4:11:51 GMT 7
Keith laughed quietly as he watched more and more people join the fight. Some not wanting to, but having to if they wanted to make it out alive. He heard Christian ask if the band was going to do something but he just shook his head. The band never done anything at any concert he had been too. Well all but one, maybe two. He couldn't remember exactly because he was fighting, dragged into them because of his friends.
"Usually they keep singing so that people will stop fighting and hopefully listen to them. 4 out of 10 times that works." Keith said looking between Christian and the crowd. It was like Christian had never been to a concert before. Like he hadn't seen anything like this before. "The rest of the time the fight either dies down on its own or it gets worse" He said crossing his arms, looking over the crowd. "I'm gonna say this one can't get any worse." He laughed looking at all the idiots fighting over nothing.
He saw a scared, skinny boy that wasn't that far from the back of the crowd get pulled into the fight. He looked about 13 and Keith was going to leave it until he heard him call for help. He never could just stand there and let young kids, get beaten up unless they deserved it. And by the looks of it, he didn't deserve it. "Hey" Keith called, walking towards where the boy was.
The boy that was hitting the kid looked around 17 and was pounding into the small boy. "Hey" Keith said, more aggressively this time as he grabbed the boys arm, just as it was about to hit the small boy's face. "What the hell-" Keith started but was cut out by the 17year olds friend coming to back him up, by hitting Keith right across the face.
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Post by Christian Patrick Elliot on Mar 28, 2007 5:07:33 GMT 7
Christian could not quite wrap his mind around the logic Keith was trying to get across. It seemed a bizarre way to solve a problem, and was definitely not the means Christian himself would go about taking care of a fight. Then again, he had never really been in a fight, or even seen many break out. He was quite sheltered in those aspects.
His eyes traveled along with Keith's to the kid crying out for help. Who in the world would want to be involved in a scenario like this? There was no sense to it, really. None at all. Perhaps he would write a story on the outbreak later. Only Christian would think of an idea for a news column at a time like this.
Christian did not follow Keith when he walked toward the fight. It would do no good for both of them to get involved if only one was needed. He did watch though, wary, and rocked up on his heels while he waited. There was a chance the situation could turn bad, but Keith seemed to have it under control. Unfortunately, Christian was no fighter, so in the case bad turned to worst, he would probably have a hard time being any help.
Luck must not have been on the men's side that day. It didn't take long for some of the punks, as Christian deemed them, to interfere with Keith's efforts. Christian's eyes widened in alarm when he realized one of them was going to do, and immediately began taking long strides towards the crowd when Keith got hit. "Shit," he murmured under his breath.
Being tall had its advantages from time to time. Christian towered over the majority of the high schoolers by at least four inches. Very few of the boys even reached six foot. When he approached the boy who had punched Keith in the face, he frowned and grabbed the kid by the arm. Just being in the midst of the danger seemed to earn Christian some bruises of his own, making him flinch at the thought of getting involved. He gave the kid a hard stare, and apparently looked intimidating enough for the kid to jerk his arm back and turn back to the inside of the group, returning to the fight.
Christian reached out to get Keith by the shoulder, and steered him clear of the riot. "Idiots," he said sourly, casting a backwards glance to make sure nobody was coming their way. Running a hand across the back of his neck, Christian looked down at Keith. "You alright?"
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Post by Keith Lewis on Mar 28, 2007 5:34:55 GMT 7
His jaw felt a little bit in pain but enough to handle. He was about to deal with the kid when Christian stepped in. Keith looked from Christian to the boy with a smirk on his face until he was hit again, this time in the back. Who the hell hits people in the back? Keith's body jerked forward a little but he quickly steadied himself before turning around to find a guy, probably friends with the one that Christian was staring down, with his hands in fists ready to fight Keith.
The smirk remained on Keith's face as he looked the boy up and down. He was no match. It was almost unfair. But he did hit Keith first which meant that he was entitled to atleast one hit himself. The boy's face was confused when he saw Keith's smirk, expecting him to be furious and start throwing punches but Keith didn't deal with things they way the kid obviously did.
He faked a turn to throw the kid off so he'd put his hands down and watched out of the corner of his eye as the kid did so before he knew it was the right time for him to strike. His body quickly twisted around and his right hand in a fist collided with the boy's jaw, soon followed by Keith's left hand now in a fist following with an uppercut, lifting the boy of the ground about 2 inches before he went crashing down the the ground again.
Some of the people fighting stopped to see Keith and the kid, some who saw that stepped away from Keith before continuing to fight and others stepped closer, thinking themselves better matches. "Shit" He thought to himself as he saw more stepping forward then stepping back. "What have I gotten myself into"
He looked over at Christian who seemed to be getting hit himself. He didn't know if Christian had been in a fight before and if he hadn't it was kind of mean to ask him to be in one now, but he couldn't possibly take them all on himself. "Hey, you got my back" Keith asked Christian quickly as the people approached. A few of them looked like a piece of cake but there were a couple he knew were going to be a challenge. "Thank god I took martial arts" He said outloud to himself as he lifted his fists, ready for any punches that might come flying in his direction.
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Post by Christian Patrick Elliot on Mar 28, 2007 5:51:14 GMT 7
The longer Christian dodged fists and punches, the more grateful he became of his parents' desire to keep his interest in classical music and artists that did not promote violence. This ran through his mind over and over as he watched teenagers get sideswiped and punched. At least now he had the advantage of his height and strength to keep him from suffering any serious wounds or hits.
Realizing Keith was right at his back, Christian moaned in frustration at the situation. Two adult men in the midst of a bunch of hot-headed high schoolers. Great. In fact, it was marvelous. The hint of pride in Christian made him pray nobody he knew personally would see this. He could only imagine the outcome, otherwise.
He had no intent of coming out of this with any bruises, but who ever does? Christian normally acted well under pressure, but dealing with his fists had never been a specialty he harboured. He had never thrown a punch, and never gotten in a physical fight. He rarely even got tangled in verbal debates. It just wasn't who he was. For the most part, he got along with everyone and didn't instigate or start anything he couldn't finish.
When he turned back from looking at Keith to the kids in front of him, he did not see anything coming. Instead, some punk got the nerve up to send a punch his way and got him square in the jaw. A rare anger seemed to simmer within the journalist, and he snaked his hand out to grab the kid by the shirt. He wasn't even aware of his reaction until it was done. He gave the teenager a glare that could match no other. When Christian was angry, he didn't need to say anything. If looks could kill, this boy would be long gone by now. "Did you think that was a good idea?"
He pushed the kid off, and raised an eyebrow at the others watching anxiously. None of them advanced, not willing to take on the 6'4" man with eyes like daggers. The kid he pushed off tripped back, taken by surprise, and cursed at Christian. His words fell on deaf ears, but the kid stumbled off, brushing off his shirt. Before long he was surrounded by some other kids who appeared to be his friends. Nobody else made a move towards Christian.
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Post by Keith Lewis on Mar 28, 2007 6:17:34 GMT 7
The ground below him seemed to be shaking, with the rumble of the crowd he wasn't all that surprised though. "I shouldn't have done that" Keith said outloud hoping Christian could hear him. He was deeply regretting going into the crowd to help that kid because now he was about to get attacked by a bunch of high schoolers.
He looked at Christian, who he saw was busy with his own little kids and he took a step closer, feeling safer when there wasn't just him against them. Those kids had balls though, going up against both Keith and Christian. But the kids seemed to stop going against Christian and all started heading towards Keith. Now he was in for it.
The first kid that reached him got a good right hook which knocked him to the ground, the kid who was behind him was pushed back, knocking the kid behind him due to Keith's powerful kick. His legs had always been better then his arms. One powerful enough kick and he knew he could get more then one at once, but a punch is usually only good for one person.
The kids looked as if they started running towards him but it was only Keith's adrenalin taking over, making things go faster then they actually were going, while giving him a high at the same time. A sudden burst of confidence took over Keith since 3 of them were down he only had about half a dozen left and he felt like he would be able to deal with them. "Come on then" He egged the kids on, getting them more riled up and actually getting them to approach him quicker.
He done a martial arts move that he had learnt not too long ago that was like a twist and kick. He twisted around and kicked the kid in the stomach, sending him flying upwards before quickly plummeting to the ground. Feeling a little tired, Keith started taking in large breaths. "I guess its been a while" He said to Christian while smirking. Amazing that he could still joke around while in a situation like that.
Just after saying that Keith felt a fist right on his nose. He winced in pain and he crouched down, an automatic reflex that he had no control over. "Fuck!" He yelled removing his hand from his nose. Thankfully it wasn't bleeding which meant he could stand up and give the kid a good beating but the second he stood up there was another fist but this one was in his eye. That hit, along with the nose pain, caused Keith to yell louder then most of the crowd put together. He was getting beaten. How could that happen. If only he hadn't talked, then he wouldn't have gotten hit and he probably wouldn't wake up with a black eye in the morning.
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