[Adrian Bayles]

Crude, cad, sappy, stupid, vile, vulgar, just plain awful...

Why did every movie that Adrian Bayles pick up have to be such a load of old trash? He didn't want to watch two people falling into an unrealistic, completely unwatchable state of love before being torn apart by "the bad guys", each of whom were portrayed by unsurprisingly wooden actors who, quite frankly, were just taking the piss by trying to act as if they were the most hard-hearted men in the western world, and strangely enough he didn't feel compelled to watch a man dressed up as a startling red spider climb the walls of a skyscraper and force webs out of his hands just by stretching. What was wrong with good, old fashioned, well acted and cleverly thought out movies, eh? Why did everything nowadays have to be all about the money and the sex appeal?

Good plots and intelligent scripts, he decided, there and then, were a thing of the past. Now all he had to make do with was singing cheerleaders and men in tights.

"Screw it. Just... screw it." He shook his head angrily before turning heel and quickly making his way toward the door of the video store, his eyes following the movement of his feet and his fisted hands swinging freely by his thighs; he couldn't be bothered to waste another minute in such a place, searching through piles of diabolical films to try and find a hidden jem that, he was almost one hundred percent certain, wasn't even there. No, he'd go home, have a shower, get himself something to eat and then sit down with a good book and an old Jefferson Airplane CD. At least then he knew that he wouldn't have to end the evening with his head on a plate and a chain saw in one of his hands.

[Aaron Gordon]

Aaron who had never known love or kindness, or even attention botherd with relationships mutch, unless the intrested him. He had been with girls before, but dumpted them because they where so boreing and unintrested. He wasent even that intrested in movies eather sure, he had a big screen Tv and a lot of gagjets for it, but it jsut BORED the hell outa this guy.

quickly flicking threw DVDs and CDs finding them all not to his likeing he moved over to the horror, there was normaly a good old horror DVD there or something, there had to be! He looked up slightly and saw the kid from before heading over, he rolled his eyes.

Once again he was looking slightly scruffy. with his jack daniels t-shirt and jeans rippted at the knees with trainers. it was very hard to bevile this guy was rich! not that he had told anyone. He might of mentioned he had a junk yard car he was fixing up himself, or maybe his other motorbikes he kept locked away.

[Adrian Bayles]

Just as his feet reached the threshold of the shop, his toes clipping the edge of the metal skirting that separated the video store from the rest of the mall, Adrian gave a small flick of his head, ridding his face of that once again so very bothersome hair of his, and then turned around once more. Only inches behind him he saw a young gentleman, a few years older than himself and quite obviously already well past high school, but still at an age where the word young could be readily applied, and he gave the curious blonde another gentle nudge in the side as him and the tottering mass of DVD’s that were piled in his arms made their way out of the shop, pushing gently past him with a small smile of gratitude and a slight wave of the fingers. He had simply wanted Adrian to move to the side and give him space to manoeuvre himself without becoming the cause of any harm, which was probably a very sensible idea, actually, although quite why he would need so many films in the first place Stitch wasn’t entirely sure.

And it was just as he was about to turn around and attempt an exit, for the second time in the space of about two minutes, that he caught the face of somebody horribly familiar out of the corner of his eye. Aaron, he seemed to remember his name being; he was the kid from down by the docks the other night, with the stolen boat and the strangely expensive looking bike…

“Well well, we meet again.” He couldn’t help himself. He just couldn’t. “How’ve you kept, Popeye? Fallen out of any stolen boats recently?”

He slowly made his way over to where Aaron was standing, unsurprisingly over by the horror movies at the other end of the store, and a smile just dripping with patronizing glee worked it’s way onto his lips.

[Aaron Gordon]

'My names Aaron. do well to remember that, would you?' he said coldy back. Aaron had no intention of being annoyed today. He dident even look up as Stich spoke to him, he wasent that intresting. People started to look at Aaron and mutter, he heard someone say 'Is he not that rich gordon kid?' this just Annoyed Aaron even more.

He hated the fact that his parents where laywers and well known. he hated the fact even more that he looked like them. His eys of course where diffrent, they all had blue, he had bright green. He finnaly looked up at stich. He opend his mouth to say something, but desided agenst it, and whent back to flicking threw the horror stuff. still finding nothing intresting.

[Adrian Bayles]

Oh, somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Adrian gave a small, nonchalant shrug of the shoulders as he closed the gap between the two young men, finally grinding to a holt in front of Aaron and folding his arms across his chest, his foot tapping against the ground with obvious impatience; he wanted to give the impression of a cool, calm persona and a certain dexterity of the mind, calculated, almost, without being perceived as an actual psychopath, when really his head was just as dizzy and dazed as the mind of a little boy on Christmas day. He just couldn’t help falling in love with the feeling that mocking the Aaron Gordon types of the world gave him.

“Alright, Aaron,” He drew the words from his lips in a slow, exceedingly condescending fashion before taking a slight pause, inhaling deeply and leaning back a little on the balls of his feet. He let his eyes, piercing and blue even in the dim electric light of the video store, flicker from place to place for a moment or two, first venturing from head to toe of the boy in front of him and then daring to go a little beyond, watching for any familiar faces in the small crowd around them. He could already hear tongues starting to wag as people passed their little encounter, making the odd comment or remark about either one of the gentlemen involved. It really was ridiculous how quickly things spread in a town as small as Totorri. “Looks like you’ve already got yourself a fan club.”

He nodded over to where a couple of girls were standing, not more than a foot or so away from the duelling teens, each of them locked into conversation with the other. Every couple of seconds or so they would look over at the boys, Aaron in particular, and attempt to stifle that terribly teenage giggle that girls around their age always seemed to possess, and the more they tried, the more they failed - quite noticeably, actually. From what he could pick up by trying his hand at eavesdropping, and to be honest that was very little, they were both under the impression that Aaron was some kind of silver spoon fed daddy’s boy from the rather more upper-class area of Totorri, and although that was obviously a falsity, there was a little part of him that suddenly became a tad confused. They did seem awfully confident in their information, and there was the bike from down by the docks that still needed some explaining…

[Aaron Gordon]

Aaron just sighed. most people know knew him, or herd of him, becuase of his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Gordon who where very rich and populer, as they where both very good lawyers. And that alwyas annoyed him more, they payed more attention to there clients then there son. Aaron dident dident want to mention his parents to someone he hardly knew. all he said about them was the following 'my dad got her mum off a few weeks ago'

He looked up at the girls, one was deffently the one his dad got off. he looked back down at the DVDs then looked at Adrian. he sighed, he was in a good mood untill Mr. Grumpty came over, he turned to look at Stich with his hole body, his hands in his pokets and his face showing no exsprestion. Why was he not getting along with this guy? He seemed ok, if only he could know Aaron better if he wasent so rude!

[Adrian Bayles]

His dad got her mum off a few weeks ago? On first hearing the words expelled from Aaron’s lips, Stitch thought he was making some sort of crude sex reference; his nose wrinkled slightly in disgust at the use of such derogatory language and he took a small step back, partly due to his disbelief (not many kids, even the kind that Aaron was steadily turning out to be, were so straight forward or up front about their parents sexual escapades), and partly due to the fact that his close proximity to Aaron was beginning to cause even more of an uproar with the video store customers than his sarcastic comments or mocking smirk had. Apparently they were all just waiting for a punch to be thrown and a nose to be broken.

“And that means what, exactly?” He still wasn’t a hundred percent sure that Aaron wasn’t going to laugh in his face and tell him all the grimy details of his father’s risqué encounter with the girl over in the corner’s mom, but he was slowly beginning to suspect that that hadn’t been quite what he’d meant by his remark.

As he stood and awaited a response from Aaron, his arms still pressed to his chest but his muscles slightly more relaxed than they had been a moment ago, he took the time to give each and every baying customer around them a lovely, deep, what he hoped would be at least a little bit menacing scowl. They were all starting to piss him off, standing there like idiots with their mouths half open and pretending, almost as badly as the men in the films he had rejected only minutes previously, that they were actually having a conversation with their husband about what film to get for the kids or their best buddy about where they should venture into next. He knew exactly what they were doing, they knew exactly what they were doing, and he was almost certain that Aaron knew it too, and strangely enough, he wasn’t very comfortable with it. They could all just make their way, nice and calmly, out of the shop and away from his… conversation, thank you very much.

[Aaron Gordon]

'my dad is a lwyer. she was in court a while ago, and my dad got her mum off scot free' he said. some people couldent understand Aaron's german acsent all the time. He knew it was diffaculy for him to talk english fully, well he could. But it was hard for him to keep his acsent in an american, right now he was talking in a very thick german acsent.

Aaron had been forsed to cort by his parents, his mother still wanted her son to follow in there ways, even if he dident talk to them anymore. he hardly saw them aswell. he lived alone not bothering anyone. He looked around, his green eyes scanning over peoples faces, he felt like talking to Stich outside. only becuase people could hear him, and they looked shocked. Aaron never once mentiond his family. he rubbed the back of his neck in a nerves way, and wisperd to himself in german.

[Adrian Bayles]

How the hell had Aaron suddenly gone from being the all urban American tough guy to a continental rich kid with an accent almost as thick as his parents pay packet at the end of the month in the space of about twenty five seconds? As if by magic Stitch’s entire view of him changed; the clothes that he wore seemed just that little bit less like tat and that little bit more like purposely roughed up, good quality garments, and the streaks in his hair less of a way to warn off the jerks who he encountered on the street and more a way to make a completely antiauthoritarian statement. It may sound like a very middleclass, unbelievably unfair bout of sudden indecision, him changing his entire way of viewing the young man before him simply because of his parents career choices and the financial status that weighed, quite heavily if his angry tone was anything to go by, around his neck, but that’s the way it was with Stitch. Call him prejudice, hell, call him a snob if you like, but knowing that Aaron was quite a bit more like him than he had first thought actually made him a lot more comfortable.

Saying that, though, it didn’t make him like the defensive, aggravated, constantly on guard teenager who stood in front of him, glancing around once again at the faces of many a curious spectator. It just made it that little bit easier not to wish him and that pretty little motorbike of his any direct collisions with either a rather stormy ocean or a rather enormous brick wall, that’s all.

“A lawyer, eh?” He sounded brighter now. Less sarcastic, less patronizing, less mocking and less angry, and he hated it. Getting angry at low life street urchins was what he did, who he was; why did Aaron have to take that away from him? He’d actually been having quite an entertaining time up until his little epiphany. “I bet he adores having a thief for a son. Yeah, he must be the proudest father this side of the northern hemisphere with spawn like you.”

It didn’t matter that he was sounding brighter or looking more relaxed, or even that people were beginning to file off and leave them to it, bored by the lack of action; when Stitch wanted to spit fire, he could spit flames a mile long and hit his target with perfect accuracy. And Aaron Gordon was one target that he wasn’t willing to let slip through.

[Aaron Gordon]

Aaron was going to say that his parents never cared. that he was alone his hole life. that he never had a hug or someone say effent things to him. but he dident say anything. his family knew of his bad ways, mutch to there own disapointment in him, they still tryed to drag him onto the correct rote, of there 'perfect' life. It was mutch more annoying in Aaron's life that they loved his little sister, that they adored her to the worlds end and gave her everything Aaron wanted.

When Aaron made eye contact with this gy, it was like his eyes where a burning red colour. or a very sad soft blue, it was so hard to tell what Aaron was feeling. his hands turning to fists in his pockets he simply wanted to say something to him, anything that would show his parents never cared for there son. but nothing came to his lips, no spoken word or anything. Insted Arron looked away, his face turning sad an disapointed. Like he had just found out that he was a mistake. He was not going to cry, he was a big boy now, he dident cry over things like that anymore.

[Adrian Bayles]

Was he… crying? Stitch tiled his head to the side, resting one cheek on the edge of his shoulder bone as he stood a moment in perfect silence, his eyes scanning the face of a suddenly so traumatised Aaron. He knew that he’d been a little bit harsh, commenting on his father’s career and his possible disappointment in having a thief for a son, but he hadn’t sworn or cussed, he hadn’t thrown any particularly vicious verbal punches and it wasn’t as if he’d said anything that he wouldn’t have been able to handle if he’d been the receiver rather than the supplier. Plus, Aaron was hardly a little boy anymore; he was the kind of guy who’d been in more fights, verbal and physical, than most his age could ever dream of being involved in and he could stand up for himself when the need arose, which, when living the dangerous sort of lifestyle that he did, was probably more often than you’d think. Or so it had been assumed by the narrow eyed young blonde.

“Uh, are you okay?” His voice was much softer than it had been previously, a certain delicacy now encased in the tone, although it was hardly a natural way of speaking for him. Just the act of getting three words and a strange sort of grunt out of his mouth had been a huge feat for the boy so used to sarcasm and jokes, and considering he both wasn’t used to and didn’t enjoy that way of talking, he felt that he’d done pretty well. Nobody had smacked him on the upside of his head yet, anyway. “I’m sorry, I suppose. I guess I made the mistake of thinking you were old enough to handle a little bit of banter. Still, if you’re not ready for that, Popeye, we can wait until you’ve grown up a bit.”

And, just like that, it was back. He’d played the part of the soft, caring friend type, his misty blue eyes wide and dopey as he attempted a delicate side, but the shifting of his feet and the tugging of his sweatshirt over his hands had been a clear reminder that he was anything but comfortable with that, so now, back was his forte; what he was good at. Still he remained a little calmer, a tiny bit more gentle than before, the harshness that had been present in his voice now toned down until it was almost nonexistent and his smirk just a tad more friendly than smug, but it was definitely back. The sarcasm and the teasing, alongside the slightly more serious forms of hostility that plagued his personality. He just hoped that no stamping of the feet and violent fitting was about to erupt from Aaron…

[Aaron Gordon]

Aaron was not crying. he dident cry, he was just more or less upset or annoyed, or both at the same time. He looked over at Stich with his green eyes. and he mutterd in germen, then said it in englsih, still muttering to him 'you try haveing parents who never cared' he simpy said, he turned and left the shop. he walked away from it a little bit, then stumbled agenst the wall outside.

He rested his head agenst it, and took a very sad sigh. it was still very painfull for Aaron to admit that he was never shown or given love. he rememberdthe day his sister was born, or was going to be born. he was in his room, one of his parents maids who normaly never said anything to Aaron had said 'Oh, is it not wonderfull? your going to have a little sister!' Aaron could still hear the maid's teary voice in his head.

He would deffently never forget that day quikly. he remembers smashing everything n the house, his parents still took no notise. he even tryed to kill his baby sister, that was when they payed a bit of attention, only to shun him away again. He knew that if he was to drop dead, his parents would probaly shug and not care.