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Date Posted: 06:41:07 10/28/04 Thu
Author: Ethan
Subject: Yes, I'm a rock and roll cliché
In reply to: Emily Swan 's message, " " on 06:37:03 10/28/04 Thu

Although physically he had much more of his mother's exotic looks as opposed to his father's boy-next-door sort of appearence, in many aspects he was definitely his father's son at heart. His commanding presence and the cool but stunning edge to his unnaturally bright gaze attracted far more attention than he desired, but all it took was one cold glare to send a hoodrat on her way - he was out here for the drinks, not the whores, and that's all the women who hung around here were to him. No self-respecting lady of class would waste away her evenings slumming - but of course he, being male, escaped that stereotype. Toes resting on the cross-support at the base of his stool, he rested his elbows on the bar and his fingers around his glass - chatting occasionally with the bartender, which was acceptable because he did expect himself atleast to be polite and besides, the 'tender he was talking to was a guy and once again, things were different for men. Though he wore only jeans and a long-sleeved tee, it wasn't that simple - his jeans were of a designer label and cost more than most entire outfits would, and across the front of his black tee 'Diesel' was blasted in olive green, which spoke for itself. He glanced over in disdain as the girl bumped lightly up against him, and then cocked a brow at her request, tone bordering on condescending. "They don't sell soda here, sweetheart."

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