anacrusis -- ch 2 snippet
Let’s get to know Ross....
Ross had noticed Elizabeth on their first day in an Introduction to Art History class. She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen, with long, curling, honey-blonde hair and a figure made to wear haute couture. He’d been shocked to discover her lingering eyes on him a week into school, even more so when she’d boldly asked him out for a coffee soon after. That coffee had turned into drinks and, within days, shared breakfasts after nights of lovemaking. He suspected she’d been drawn to him because his not-entirely-undeserved reputation as a bad boy and his rough-about-the-edges looks. Distressed denim jeans, vintage concert tees, battered Doc Marten’s and old leather jackets may have been all the rage at H&M, but for Ross, they comprised the entirety of his wardrobe and had been earned the hard way. Regardless of her reasons for it, Ross had basked under her attentions and had grown to love and admire her for her charm, beauty and intellect.
Despite the love for art that had brought Ross and Elizabeth together their first year at uni, they’d soon begun to take decidedly different paths during their second. Music had always been an important part of his life, since his childhood, really. It had started to flourish while in secondary school and burst forth, fully formed, once in uni. It had captured his soul, and opportunities to play with fellow troubadours in small clubs around town and develop new, experimental jazz compositions had become his passion. There wasn’t much money to be had with these endeavours, which was nothing new to him, so life on a shoestring had been manageable. The new studio bedsit he’d rented for the upcoming school year was tiny and efficient, and he’d cared more about having a place to park his lorry than he’d been about the size or what part of town it happened to be in. He augmented his gigs as a server with a catering company and a little under-the-table cash on moving jobs.
Elizabeth, on the other hand, had become quite well known as a style blogger and worked on her design skills, with a mind to move to London, Paris or Italy to launch a career in fashion. She’d always wondered when Ross would stop screwing around with the jazz trio, to use his sharp intelligence on the business side of the music industry. He’d excelled in his intro to business courses, and he could almost, in hindsight, remember seeing a gleam in her eye at the possibilities. In the end, he couldn’t blame her for wanting the finer things in life. There’d been too many nights out having cheap beer and mediocre pizza, not enough out dining on white linen tablecloths. Having to wait until the movie she’d wanted to see had come to the discount cinema instead of going on opening night. He thought the final straw had been when he’d brought her to his new place for the first time. He’d seen the distaste in her eyes as she’d taken in the spartan room, with its futon bed, microwave and mini-fridge. She’d stayed only the one night before the excuses had begun. In the end, he’d barely offered a token of resistance when she’d told him it was over.