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@gabrielmarinan
Introductions | Gabriel & Godfrey
"No I think I was just going for the effect of cocaine." Godfrey widened his eyes for a dramatically and laughed.
"Oh Philly, I’ve heard a lot about it but have never had the pleasure of visiting myself. Let’s see Liberty Bell, Rocky steps, and OH! How are the cheese stakes?"
"I have not really no. I’ve been kind of," Godfrey bobbed his head around trying to indicate that he had been super hyped and was running around the city with Veronica and then Delilah and meeting people, if that could even be conveyed through a head movement.
"So besides being from Philly is there anything else I should know about you Gabe? Do you practice witch craft? Have an extra thumb? Sleep with socks on?"
Gabriel turned away, shaking his head as a laugh built up in his stomach. "Whatever floats your boat," he told him, though he knew he was joking.
"It's really not all that special. I kinda hate it, if you want my opinion." He nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Uh, they're alright. Cheesy."
Gabriel realized that Hugh has got to be one of the most interesting people that he's met so far, and it's such a breath of fresh air that he found his smile never once faltered as he watched his head movements and listened to everything he said.
"No- well, once, no and no." He smiled, holding up both hands to prove his answer for number two. "Uh, fun facts, let me see..." Biting his bottom lip, he looked up as he tried to think of something interesting about him. There really wasn't much. "I like soap operas." He said it so shamelessly, it was as if he just told him that he likes movies or music.
Charity Doesn't Match My Chanel || Heather & Gabriel
The sound of footsteps approaching through the din outside the room made Heather straighten up in her seat and glance defensively over her shoulder. If it was that god-awful matron woman coming to yell at her in Spanish again, so help her god, she’d finally lose it. This potato peeler would abandon it’s current task and end up flung at someone’s face.
But it wasn’t the stout, dour-faced Señora Estrella that appeared in the doorway, but a lanky-looking guy with longish, black hair and dark eyes. Heather frowned at him in confusion for a moment. Maybe he’d been banished to the back room, too.
"Personally. I’d rather help out those that need it. But community service isn’t for everyone, I guess." Realizing he must’ve overhead her previous statement, Heather huffed out a quiet, mirthless noise of agreement as she turned away from him and back to her mountain of potatoes. “You can say that again,” she affirmed, somewhat under her breath but still loud enough for him to hear her. But even the vinegar in her tone was rather half-hearted and forlorn-sounding at this point.
To her genuine surprise, he didn’t leave- he stepped into the room and walked over to the table where she sat, picking up the peeler and one of the potatoes she had assaulted with a few, pointless scrapes. "It’s really easy to use, you just gotta get the hang of it." With raised eyebrows, Heather watched his hands as he deftly used to the peeler to seperate the potato from it’s skin, as smoothly as if he was cutting butter. “Huh,” she mused, tilting her head to the side. “That easy.” When he handed the peeler back to her, she gave it her own try- the spiral of peel she produced was definitely more uneven and ragged-looking than his, but it was still progress.
"So is this your idea of community service, too?" she asked as she set the first potato down with a triumphant half-smile that was now dancing at one corner of her lips. "Since I guess I qualify as ‘someone in need’, in this department, at least." She glanced up at him. Saying thank you was definitely beyond her capabilities at the moment, but this is as close as she would get. "I’m Heather."
Gabriel watched as the brunette took the potato peeler and tried it for herself. It was... decent, but she's learning and that alone made him smile and nod in approval. "You'll get the hang of it. Much better than just standing with a potato in your hand." He let out a small laugh, leaning his back against the counter as the girl continued to peel the rest of the skin away. He watched dully, and lifted his head in faint surprise when she spoke again.
"Uh," he began, reaching behind to scratch at his exposed neck where his hair had been tied securely, "I mean, you could look at it that way." Shrugging, he tilted his head, noticing the improvement in her peeling. "But I'm just trying to help you out. We're in this program together and it seemed like the right thing to do. Besides, it was pretty hard watching you, I'm not gonna lie." Looking over, the corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile.
"Heather." He repeated to himself, nodding. His initial presumption was correct. "I'm Gabriel. I'd shake your hand, but I think you should keep peeling." Looking to the door, he saw the matron with their back to the entrance, barking orders at someone he couldn't see at the line. And then she turned around and he smiled, lifting his hand in a wave. The tension in her face washed away for a brief moment as she nodded and then went back to what she was doing.
"Is there anything else you need help with?" He asked, though he was pretty sure she needed help with nearly everything. Gabriel didn't really mind though, helping people. And it's not like they'd only be doing this for one day, they had two weeks of this soup kitchen. Heather might not like doing it, but it makes it a hell of a lot easier when you know what you're doing. "We still got a few hours, so."
night in // the outcast & the poet
Charlie was a bit surprised, but admittedly pleased to discover he wasn’t the only one playing homebody tonight. He shifted, straightening himself up a bit to a more presentable position than his sprawling across the arm chair, and shook his head.
"No, no; not at all. I was.. just being lazy, really."
He hoped not to make a habit of it, this trip - he had plans of branching out, fitting in, winding up lost in beautiful cities and staying up until the sun came up over exotic horizons. Well - maybe another night. He had a couple months to work up to that. He still felt like a little New England hermit, sheltered and unsure, safe beneath his brother’s shadow. The shadow was gone, now, and he wasn’t sure how to act in the light.
"I’m Charlie, by the way. I don’t think we’ve met."
"Nothing wrong with that," he mumbled with honesty, moving his head up and down in a nod. Everyone acted like just hanging out and letting yourself some time to relax was pathetic and time-wasting but Gabriel saw it as a necessity, really. It's good, healthy even, to allow some free time for yourself.
"It's nice to meet you, Charlie." Meeting his eyes with his own, Gabriel gave him a warm smile. "My name's Gabriel." Leaning back on his seat, he stretched out his arms and stifled a yawn. Again, tired but can't sleep. The eternal struggle, it seems.
"So," he started, not exactly sure if Charlie wanted to talk or be left alone, "how'd the first day go for you?"
Introductions | Gabriel & Godfrey
"Gabriel, angelic." Godfrey winked and laughed at his own joke which was probably not nearly as amusing as it was in his head. "Eh that’s probably a good thing, I was pretty wired," he made a pained face, "a Trenta double espresso was probably not a good idea. But where am I from…ahh the hard questions. Well I currently live in New York so…” Godfrey trailed off and shrugged he hated the where are you from question because was he supposed to answer truthfully or answer where he lived now or where he felt was home? It was a loaded question to him.
"And you sir?"
Gabriel laughed, shaking his head back and forth a couple times. "Nice, haven't heard that before. Honestly." So far, Gabriel liked Hugh. He was different, and that was something he hasn't really encountered that much as of yet. "Damn, that's rough. Were you trying to stay up for three days straight, or?" A laugh spilled from his lips as he nodded, waiting for his thoughts to come through. "Cool. I'm from Philly, unfortunately." Running his hands through his hair, he bit the inside of his check. What to say, what to say... "You check out the hostel much yet?"
Charity Doesn't Match My Chanel || Heather & Gabriel
It was 11:44 am on her first day in Barcelona, and Heather Dennings was regretting a lot of things.
She was regretting the crop-top and lattice sweater combo she had settled on for their first day at the soup kitchen. The place was sweltering with the heat of boiling pots and moving, running, Spanish-shouting bodies; even with the open mesh holes of her Rebecca Taylor pullover, Heather felt sweat beading on her collarbone and neck, occasional droplets trickling down her chest. But not wearing the sweater wasn’t an option. She’d tried working in only her embroidered crop top for an hour or so, but found that the gazes of some skeevy homeless bums and even a few of the Spanish short-order cooks had seemed to constantly follow her and her bare midriff around. The sweater stayed on after that.
She was regretting wearing perfume, because the mixture of garlic with sandalwood and jasmine was making her stomach churn. She was regretting not putting her hair up in a poinytail, because by now, it was beginning to stick uncomfortably to the sweat-slicked skin of her neck. The one thing she was not regretting was wearing her TOMS slippers instead of the Valentino sandals- what the grimy floor would’ve done to that Italian leather, she shuddered to imagine.
She was also regretting ever thinking that this trip would be easy, or enjoyable, or anything like she had imagined it would be. This first day in the soup kitchen- and the first day of work Heather had ever had to do in her entire life- was already proving that. So far, she’d managed to fuck up the rice she was supposed to have boiled and drained (and instead turned into a mushy, overcooked goop), the garlic she was supposed to have chopped (which had ended up in pathetic chunks of various shapes and size- and no one had told her she was supposed to peel it first), and even the ice she was supposed to have crushed (which she had given up on entirely and left in one giant piece, because her feeble stabs with the knife had been useless). It was awful. She was overheating, she was nauseous from the overwhelming smell of onions and garlic and sweat and god only knew what else, she had been groped by one homeless guy already, and it was only noon. There were four more hourse left in this seventh circle of Heather Denning’s own personal hell.
The matron of the soup kitchen who had been assigning the AUSUS group tasks all day had become pretty fed up with Heather’s absolute uselessness by now. She had stuck the girl in the back with a bin of potatos that needed peeling, and some weird tool that was supposedly a peeler. For the first few minutes, Heather had just stared at the lumpy, brown potatoes with a gaze so spiteful and searing, one might’ve thought they had somehow personally offended her. They had- by existing and now becoming her responsibility. With a heavy sigh, she finally picked the first one off the pile and turned it around in her hands, trying to figure how she was even supposed to do this.
"To think I could be doing poolside yoga at rehab right now," she mumbled darkly only to herself and the empty storage room. The potatoes just stared back in silent judgement. Probably waiting for her to fuck them up, too.
Gabriel woke up an hour early, not even needing his alarm that he had set the night before. A certain contentment had settled over him ever since boarding the flight to Barcelona, and he felt happy. The only true thing Gabriel needed was to get away. He's been stuck in Philadelphia his entire life, surrounded by people that dislike and ridicule him and a future that held little to no meaning. But where he was, where he was going, seemed so promising.
And so, because of that, he woke at the crack of dawn, ready for their first community service project at the soup kitchen. He sat on his bed for awhile, reading a book he's read multiple time as his roommates slept. The only light cast by the small book light he thanked himself he remembered to bring. And then he moved down to the commons, watching the sunrise from the large window. It bled out into the room, over the couches and chairs and across his plain white t-shirt. He closed his eyes.
The first hour at the soup kitchen, Gabriel would admit, was not the most pleasant. Everyone was running around, trying to figure out what to do. And being in a different country where hardly anyone spoke your native tongue made it especially difficult. But once Gabriel began getting the hang of it, he was cooking and cleaning and dishing out food easily, even exchanging small words that he memorized to some of the locals. Their smiles made the stress and trouble all worthwhile. But there was one person, one girl that continued to make him wince. It was obvious she never worked before, because everything she did was a complete failure and honestly, Gabriel found it quite embarrassing to watch. However, he felt a twinge of sympathy for her. Especially considering the matron of the soup kitchen grew so tired of her mess-ups that she sent her to the back to peel potatoes.
After serving the last person in line, he wiped his hands on his apron and made his way to the back where the girl- Heather, he believed her name was- was sent. He wasn't surprised to find her in the state she was. A sigh slipped through his teeth and then he heard her mention poolside yoga at rehab and his curiosity piqued. Though, he ignored his unnecessary curiosity of her past and continued on.
"Personally," he started, "I'd rather help out those that need it. But community service isn't for everyone, I guess." Clearly. Gabriel moved forward and picked up the peeler that was left on the table, a potato in his other hand. "It's really easy to use, you just gotta get the hang of it." Demonstrating, he pressed the tool down at the top and brought it down with enough pressure just to take off the top layer. "See?" He looked up, wondering why he was bothering to help. She probably wouldn't appreciate it. But Gabriel was here to help, and that should include someone in his group as well- someone that very much needed it.
That was…a surprisingly accurate guess for someone who just walked in.
So, what really happened, then?
I mean, what else was I supposed to do but back up in fear and then run away? I swear she was about to hit me with the loaf of bread she was holding.
They do seem a bit unapologetic here. Though, an apology probably would've worked best for you. If you knew how to say it without offending her again.
night in // the outcast & the poet
Despite spending hours cramped on the plane, it felt nice to be off his feet again. The sitting room of the hostel was surprisingly nice - sunny and breezy thanks to the open windows lining the walls, packed with soft worn furniture. It’d been a long day at that soup kitchen, after only a handful of hours’ sleep since the plane ride. Charlie felt close to burnt out. While several of his fellow travelers trailed out of the hostel and into the city in groups for dinner or whatever else they had in mind, he stayed put, merely nodding pleasantly or smiling when they walked past.
He nearly considered turning in, already, even with the sky yet to set. That would definitely pin him as an odd-man-out, forgoing festivities in favor of sleeping, but the thought of going out tonight had him yawning.
"Oh -" He voiced his surprise lightly when he opened his eyes again, finding the room was now occupied by someone other than himself. Someone he recognized from the group, but only vaguely. Charlie nodded towards the front doors in indication. "They’re all out, already, I think."
Gabriel was exhilarated after the soup kitchen. The amount of smiles he received and the kind words (from what people have translated for him) were enough to brighten his day tremendously. He never really bothered to do community service back home and he honestly felt like he was missing out on something important. Granted, he was pretty tired by the time he got back to the hostel- but he felt like he'd actually done some good in his life. Which, was something new.
He planned to go straight back to his room and crash, but of course, once he laid down, he was wide awake and staring up at the ceiling. It was so strange, how he could be tired one minute and energized the next. He finally stood and made his way to the common rooms, sure that no one would be there. Everyone was out, enjoying Barcelona night life.
Entering the room, he was surprised to find someone sitting there. "I'm not here for anyone," he replied coolly before taking a seat on the vacant couch. "I actually thought it'd be empty. I'm not intruding, am I?"
I guess my Spanish isn’t as great as I thought it was. I mean, you really know you’re in trouble when you address an older Spanish woman with “tú” rather than “usted”. The amount of dirty looks I got was, well, too many for my liking.
So, what did you do?
Introductions | Gabriel & Godfrey
Stepping back into his room -Godfrey had forgotten his phone- he saw that there was now another person unpacking. He was going to introduce himself but the long haired fellow beat him to it.
"Hay is for horses."
Walking towards him with a big smile, Godfrey stuck out a hand, “I’m Godfrey Hughes or just Hugh is fine. Welcome to the coed room!”
His smile was a little less stiff at the first comment that he said. Taking his hand in his own, he gave a firm shake. The one and only thing he got from his father, was his ability to shake hands properly. So pathetic. "Gabriel Marinan. Good to meet you, Hugh." Nodding, he did a little sweep of the room with his eyes. He couldn't complain, it was nice. He was just a little nervous spending a room with four other people. "I didn't get to talk to you on the plane. Where're you from?"
But now, why would Juanita marry Alejandro if she loves Raoul?
Maybe her life is more complicated than just making decisions based off feelings. Maybe Raoul is dirt broke and can't afford taking care of the baby she's carrying, or maybe Juanita comes from a completely different world and can't change her life for him. The possibilities are endless.
I can’t be the only one who actually felt good about working in that soup kitchen today, right?
No, it was great. I'm actually disappointed that some people didn't enjoy it. Kinda the point of it, isn't it? To give back and all.
Introductions | Gabriel & Godfrey
Gabriel drug his bags up to his room. He wasn't surprised to find that he'd been lucky enough to get a room with Delilah, the girl and only person he had a bad run-in with on the plane. But hopefully, with so many people in the room, he'd be able to avoid her enough. Walking through the door, he noted that one bed already had luggage on top of it. And to his luck, the one in the far corner was free. Just as he threw his bag on top and went to start unpacking a few things, the door opened and Gabriel saw a guy that he vaguely remembered from the plane. "Uh, hey." His mouth formed into a tight smile.