OLIVER, toby alec

[toby]

toby alec oliver, *

SENIOR, SEVENTEEN, LONER, ANDREW VANWYNGARDEN, WEIRD, HOMOSEXUAL

" Hey, I'm Toby. Um... I'm Seventeen, and I grew up around here, I guess. I live in the poorer side of town, always have. 
Anyway, I'm a calm guy. I don't tend to go absolutely crazy, like, ever. I don't react to things dramatically, I'm just chill about everything. You could try and scare me, and I'd simply come back with 'oh.' but really, I could be scared shitless. I'm also a weird guy. I tend to say random, irrelevant things that just sound strange. People think I'm off in my own little world, but I haven't quite figured myself out yet. I say things casually, because that's what comes to me, so it's weird for me when people think of me as strange, because it's just who I am. I'm talkative, confident, whatever. I talk a lot, to anyone, and I have no problem with approaching someone I don't know to have a random conversation. I guess because I'm weird, I don't have a whole lot of friends, well, next to none, really. I guess you could stereotype that as a loner, because I just sort of walk the halls by myself. But I prefer that way, I guess. When people get to know me, they stop because I'm strange, and my perspective on things, life, is weird.
Anyway, I guess I'll let you know more about my personal life. I grew up as an only child, my parents made sure they didn't have another child because they knew there was no possible way they could support two children, let alone one. We lived in a two room apartment my whole childhood, but it wasn't that bad. I never liked big houses, anyway. I always imagined that if I had one, most likely half of it would be empty because there would be no way I could fill the whole place with my stuff. But yeah, my parents were on good terms for about five years after I was born, but after that they fought a whole lot.
We had money problems, which as a child my tiny brain that was just learning adding and subtracting had no idea what 'we can't afford anything' meant. It was pretty much downhill from there. My parents became stressed, especially when we had next to no food in our fridge or cupboards, relying on little things my dad picked up on the way home from work. But when I turned twelve, my mom left me and my dad because she couldnt handle it anymore. She left with a big bang, I like to call it. My parents fought, worse than before. She threw dishes, he begged, she screamed, he tried to stay calm. Then she left. Meanwhile, I laid curled up in my bed, my scrawny, tiny body hidden under a large black hoodie.
When it was all over, I quietly slipped out of my room, and out the door and I jumped on my bike and rode. I rode my bike around for quite awhile before I went home. I got there, and my house was quiet, it's funny, you remember the sound of the silence more than the fight your parents had. I didnt hear from my father until the next day, when he came out of his room. He tried to act like everything was okay, like she'd come back, but she never did. He got into serious drugs, and that's when I lost connection with other kids. I wasn't allowed to have anyone over because I spent my weekends making sure be didn't over dose. He tried to make sure I wasnt around when he did it, trying to send me away but I had nowhere to go. I had friends, well, a friend. But I stopped talking to him because he kept knocking on my door, and I didnt like that. I continued not to talk anyone a whole lot through out my school years. But I did enjoy playing guitar, it was a good pass time. Oh, and I liked to collect CDs.
Currently, I work at the Tropical Smoothie Café, because I know dad wont be able to pay for the bills himself, not to mention groceries and stuff. We moved from a two room apartment, to a one room, I got the room, and my dad got the couch. He tends to suck up to me, spoil me whenever he can, because he's scared of losing me. We don't fight, ever, because he feels bad, I guess. We don't have much to fight about, anyway. But yeah, that's pretty much it I guess.  "


YO, MY NAME IS EMILY AND I'VE BEEN DOING THIS SHIZZ FOR FOUR YEARS. I PLAY NOPE OTHER CHARACTERS. HERE'S SOME OF MY WORK: 

 Toby wished it were fall. Dead leaves that reached the ground looked so beautiful along walking trails. He believed as soon as those reached the ground, who held on to those leaves until the dead of winter, it meant the earth was trying. It was showing how much it was trying to change, and that winter was it's ultimate low, then when spring came expectedly, it showed signs of success, only to start of the changing process. He loved the way the leaves would dance in perfect harmony to the wind's beat. People thought he was weird when he stated he rather enjoyed the sound of leaves scratching the ground as it failed to pick up air time. He'd watched the dying pieces, until it were out of eye sight, and became unrecognizable. 
But Toby was left with the summer's heat. The wind didn't have it's threatening breezes, that reserved the sting to his rough guitarist fingers only. The feeling made his fingers itch, and become uncomfortable, beginning it's usual crave for the feeling of an instruments within it's touch. He couldn't describe to someone the feeling be felt when he was inspired. The want to play guitar until his fingers literally bled. The need to feel the vibrations of the sound system go through his body and soul. He never played high on stage, because he wanted to be fully aware of feeling of playing live each and every time. No first time getting high with a new drug could compare to the feeling. With drugs you knew that'd be the last time you felt so amazing, that nothing else would be as good as the first, and you begin to crumble. It was easier to say that Toby was obsessed with playing guitar, a hollow heart found it's core, and he was relieved. 
Was it strange to think of a man as god-like even though his sense of style didn't fall within Toby's range? He didn't think so. At the sight of the slender boy the emerged from behind the opposite side of the tree, he sat straight, and became alert. The heart was taking control of the brain, rewiring it's functions. The thumping of the muscle was obnoxious to his ears, he was worried the sound would fled from his secure inner thoughts, and escape into the outdoors. Declan had taken no hesitation to take the seat beside him. He felts the poke to his side, and it felt like electric surges had flowed through his veins, and shocked his heart, confusing it into racing a little faster for only a moment. At firs he thought these feelings could be described as pity feelings, that maybe he felt bad for the boy who had received such a nasty welcome. But in the end, his lips itched, it's hollow heart had a reason to pump again. 
Toby smiled, relaxing, and blinked tiredly - something that wasn't uncommon for the boy - as his curly bangs attempted to fall in front of his eyes, narrowly missing. I'm a fan, he wanted to say. Write your name on my body, make me feel like the brightest star in the sky, make my howl be the loudest, and only thing your ears wish to hear. This was not love. Love didn't form in only two weeks, his brain knew that. But his heart was a liar, an expert comedian. Empty spaces in his mind were filled in with potential inspiration. 
The fluent accent tied up with the deepness of the other's voice made Toby's insides melt enough to make his mind imagine he was drowning. He desired the sound of his english accent, and felt ashamed when he replied with an American accent. " Hi. " he replied, all panic thoughts fleeing his mind, and he was fine. He had trained himself to calm down at the sight of the other male, instead of babbling about whatever came to mind, although he was sure he was failing. It was apparent he enjoyed Declan's presence. " What are you up to? " 
Toby was fascinated by Declan's straightened hair, compared to Toby's curly disaster he refused to take care of. He was the kind of guy who unwillingly rolled out of bed, and couldn't be assed to give a damn about his appearance. But with the beauty in front of him, he wished he had cared that morning. Toby also noticed the difference in their bodies. Declan's was thin, and looked starved almost, where as Toby's was more filled out, not fat, but just shaped from years of smoking the green. His body had tattoos, meanwhile, Toby's was naked, and untouched by ink. They looked like two people who wouldn't get along, but Toby didn't mind the stereotypes laid on them. 
" How's the bus been? " asked in a more serious tone of voice, he was serious. The members of Declan's band were treating him poorly, and Toby was not impressed. He was aware of Declan's drive for perfection, also known as OCD, and he tried his hardest not to tamper with it. He reserved anything kind of mockery to teasing between the two, but even then, it was to a minimum.