this is preferably open to one or two people, but if there are more, that's ok!

There was a lot of free time for someone like Gem, who had a lot of friends, and also a lot of self-pity. The pity often distracted him from friends, which lead to a lot of alone time, which then lead to imagining outlandish scenarios. For example, he put himself in the predicament in which he'd imagine how his classmates, housemates, and professors would react to his death. It was not satisfactory, only because he remembered how frequently deaths happened at Hogwarts.

He was leant forwards on the counter, his shirt hanging off his thin frame, his pants kept up only by the very last hole in his belt. The bartender wasn't paying him very much mind, reasonably, but he wasn't paying much mind to the bartender either.

The more Gem thought about his time at Hogwarts, the more depressed he got.
The only thing that really halted his self-pity was music, especially music he liked. He grew up around it, wrote it, played it, sang it, lived with it his entire life. That was one thing about muggle culture he adored to no end, being able to listen to as much music as you'd like, whenever you'd like. All he had was a stupid radio, not even headphones keep the noises around him from distracting the sound. Awful, just awful. He had friends, yes, he had his guitar, yes, but he didn't have his amplifier. He didn't have a drum set, he didn't have a guitar pedal or a microphone to shout into. He was downright miserable without music, no doubt about it.

He remembered the very first band he heard that inspired him to really get to playing the guitar, a muggle band, a group of Americans called the Strokes. Everyone always thought he'd been inspired by the Beatles, and yes, he was, but it wasn't heavy stuff like he'd loved to hear coming from his CD walkman. Julian Casablancas' raw, throaty voice, the skitty-pop-patter of Fabrizio Moretti's drums, how effortlessly he hit them and captivated the listener, the way Albert Hammond Jr. and Nick Valensi synced their guitars, added a hop and a jump, and lest he forget Nikolai Fraiture's catchy bass lines that helped the song get its sound across.

The more he learned about them, the more he wanted to be one of them. He wanted to live that kind of life, making music just like that. Gem was shamelessly fascinated by American music, and especially the Strokes. He could talk about them forever, if anyone would let him.

But no one ever did. No one knew who the Strokes were, no one wanted to be in a band like that with him because they could give a shit. And he couldn't even show them proper if they weren't in his house! Why? Because he had to use a goddamn gramophone. It was all The Wizard Waltz or Manstamp for these wizard-borns and purebloods. He could've screamed, if he wasn't in a public setting.

Instead, his eyes began to follow the bartender, who eyed him silently. When they made eye contact, Gem felt it right to strike up conversation;

"Aye mate, care to give me a firewhisky? Had a long day, I did."
"Mm."
"Wot? You give me an ole' rundown and decide I'm not good enough? How about a butterbeer, then?"
"How old are you, orderin' a firewhisky?"
"Erh, twenty-one."
"Right."

Gem scrunched up his face, digging into his pocket to fish out three shiny sickles, setting them on the counter. In a way, he was sort of begging, the way he was looking at the bartender. He wouldn't ever beg out loud, that'd just make him seem like a looney, but he really did do his best cutesy face.

"A virgin one, mate."
"Right, fine."

The bartender took the sickles, heading out behind the counter. While Gem waited, he found a seat near the counter, his chin resting comfortably on the palm of his hand. He didn't look up when the butterbeer was set in front of him, just kept there. He figured after a few minutes of moping, though, that he'd take it by the handle and get a sip. Butterscotch. His tongue pressed hard against his teeth at the sweetness, ignoring the foam mustache over his top lip, licking it off, wiping his spit off his mouth with the collar of his shirt because it felt uncomfortable to leave it there. He was feeling very bold, so he reached into his pocket and got out a cigarette, lighting the end with a silver lighter his father had gifted him, getting a long, comfortable drag out.

He remembered when his mam made him promise not to smoke, not ever. After a brief look at his smirking father, who was sitting behind her, he nodded, doe-eyed and innocent. It was very hard not to smile.

Promises, they break before they're made, he thought, the tune getting stuck in his head with a gleeful giggle. Sometimes, sometimes.

《 [font=comic sans] @Gem Stuart 》

Coming to the Leaky Cauldron for Aphrodite meant it had been a day. A long one. She found it easy- to relax here.. Just the clinking of mugs and chattering among the bar, it was great. Of course, she never came here with friends, though. I mean- she would.. If she had any. It would be a lie if she said making friends this year was easy, because it most certainly wasn't. Sure, it was always the striking conversation of how cool her hair was and stuff like that, but it honestly got old.

It wasn't like people didn't try to talk to her either, because she defiantly had her fair share of friendship requests. People thought she was pretty, and pretty faces equal pretty friends. Though, she didn't want pretty friends. She wanted interesting friends, friends who had flaws and weren't worried of showing it. Is that too much to ask?

This was the conversation going on in her head as she pushed open the doors to the Leaky Cauldron, taking a seat at the bar. They had seen her here before, and they knew the usual. So, with a nod of her head when she had the eyes of the bartender, she slid her galleons forward without a word, a mug of Butterbeer then set in their place. She smiled at the bartender and said a few words of thanks before placing her eyes on a boy next to her.

"Aren't you a bit young for a drag?" She blurted out, yet had no remorse for saying it. If anything, it would strike up a conversation.

@Aphrodite Bloom

"Aren't you a bit young for a drag?"

Gem had been caught off guard, that was for certain, but not at all alarmed. Her voice was high enough for it not to be a professor, or even a prefect, so he decided it would be very sexy of him to not even look up to check, as long as he had that sort of security. He wondered what response she was expecting, a witty one, or a scared one? Witty, but not condescending. That was a hard thing to come up with in a matter of seconds.

Instead, he leaned back in his seat a bit, taking another quick puff so he could buy himself some time.

"You're never too young ta increase yer possibilities of lung cancer," He said, finally turning his head to look at her. He got a very brief glance at her, mostly because his fringe was covering his right eye. He didn't bother brushing it behind his ear like he usually did, only because he knew it'd stubbornly fall back into place. From what he saw, though, she was pretty; big eyes, peach-colored lips- obviously the most noticeable thing was her hair, two colors split right down the middle of her bangs. He silently wondered how difficult that was to keep.

After giving her a quick up-and-down, he gestured at the seat across himself, pulling the cigarette out from his lip with his pointer and thumb. He felt very cool right now, just like the guys who'd wear leather jackets and sunglasses and start fights in bars, cheat in poker and have their hair messy but gelled up. He felt like James Dean, just prepubescent. Nice.

"Would you care fer one? I won't charge fer it, since... well, there's no reason to, I guess." He took another sip of the butterbeer, getting some of the foam on his nose. He wiped it off with his wrist, and then rubbed the excess stickiness off his wrist with his hand. He found himself smiling anyway, he could never be grumpy in the presence of someone new. "I'm Gem, by e' way. Good ta be your acquaintance." He'd never said that, 'good to be your acquaintance', he'd always said 'a pleasure'. He didn't know which one made him sound better, but he felt a lot cooler if he just didn't care. He still cared.

《 [font=comic sans] @Gem Stuart 》

As she waited for his response, she noticed that he hadn't been looking up on purpose, like he was some sort of greaser taking a long smoke. It caused her to roll her eyes, though when he finally spoke, she shook her head. "Though you're certainly always young enough to prevent it, huh?" She replied with a look of disgust, wondering how he just did it easily. Just the smell gagged her.

She felt his eyes on her, which caused her to act like she didn't notice. It wasn't anything new for her though, she had people examine her everyday, practically watching her every move. Once he asked if she'd like to try, she couldn't help but laugh. Aphrodite.. Taking a drag? Part of herself longed to do it.. just once, at least. Though what would her father say? Oh, who was she kidding? As if the old man would know..

"Aphrodite, a pleasure. And hey- If you don't mind.. Could I actually try it?" She asked with an eyebrow raised, unable to tell if he had been joking about it before. If he was actually serious and handed it to her, perhaps she'd actually do it.

Perhaps.

@Aphrodite Bloom

Gem felt himself squint a bit when she laughed, shrugging it off like it didn't make a difference to him. He almost rolled his eyes, too, but that'd just be too much, he knew it. That said, when she finally introduced herself and asked for it, it was his turn to laugh-- actually, he just smiled, but it was coy.

"Sure, go fer it," He handed it to her, replacing the emptiness in his hand with the handle of the butterbeer, sipping it shortly. It was good, he admitted, just sweet. He was never too crazy about sweets. He made the last minute decision not to warn her the fag would send her into a coughing fit on the first pull of smoke, he thought it was a vital experience to go through when you first started smoking. It was good, made the feeling more raw; it either drove you away, or pulled you in.

"Aye, you go ta Hogwarts, I swear I've seen ya around before." He pointed at her, his face lighting up childishly. "Hufflepuff, right?" He hoped he was right, though - how could he not have been? She was the only girl in that entire damn school with that haircut. "How many times a day do people mention yer hair color, by e' way? Not includin' me right now, on average, how mooch?" This was a question for their own amusement, get something rolling. He couldn't bare trying to act all cool and shite for a few hours, he'd die before that ever happened. A good way to get someone talking was to get them ranting, and he'd been almost positive that her hair was a spectacle amongst many - with caused for irritation to the holder of said spectacle.

He took another sip, keeping his expression lighthearted and fun - even if the butterbeer made his tongue feel numb.

《 [font=comic sans] @Gem Stuart 》

Cautiously, she placed the cigarette to her lips, holding it with two fingers like she had seen people in movies do. As she took a sharp inhale, she coughed upon doing so, almost dropping the damned thing on her skin.

With a ragged wipe at her mouth, she set the cigarette on the counter and glanced back up at the boy who had bestowed it on her. It was disgusting, yes- yet somehow fun. It caused her to giggle as she took a sip of her butterbeer. She had honestly almost forgot it was there, too caught up in the conversation she had engaged in.

"You make it look so easy! How?" She asked in wonder, sipping on her drink repeatedly to wash out the smokey taste that had been lodged in her throat.

Once he mentioned Hogwarts, part of herself lit up. She hadn't seen the boy in the halls.. though he was starting to seem familiar. It then hit her that he was Gem.. the Gem that was dating her best friend. How she had been so clueless shocked her. More importantly, did Brielle know her boyfriend smoked? Did she smoke with him? She had so many questions to interrogate her with when she got back to the school, though for now, she focused back on the question he had asked.

"Hufflepuff through and through." She claimed proudly, a smile worn across her rosy cheeks. Part of herself wanted to ask if he really was the guy dating Brielle, though she refrained, a small chance of if it hadn't been him would be utterly embarrassing. Perhaps Grayson was his name, and she was getting it confused. Whatever it was, she laughed at his little inquiry.

"I mean- Practically everyday if I'm bein' honest. Honestly annoying after a while, y'know?" Even though he didn't know the feeling, it still felt nice to relate to someone.

@Aphrodite Bloom

Gem felt the ends of his lips turn up, a laugh pushing itself out of parted lips when she sputtered at the smoke that clouded up the back of her throat. It was a short-lived laugh, though his grin remained, reaching over to take his smoke back, setting it right back at the corner of his mouth where it belonged.

"I've been doin' it for a month now! Me dad's this big-shot musician, the Revolvers? Ole' man smokes like it's no one's business. That, an' it's a bit of a tradition that when ya see the first few signs of yer son being a man, you give em' cigarettes. Bit of a shite tradition, if I ever have a son, he's not getting a single cigarette from my hand." His words were thickly laid with irony and humor, right as he sucked the nicotine out of the cigarette, blowing it out the other corner of his lips. He'd never say it out loud, but that took a lot of practice to do properly.

"That's just awful," He scoffed, getting the very last out of the cigarette before he dropped it on the ground and stamped it out, getting another sip of his beverage, "y'know, next time someone asks ya about it, you should joost act like yer hair is like, naturally like tha' or sumfin'. Like, if they're all like, 'oh wow, your hair is so miraculous! How curious, love!'," He made his voice all high-pitched, purposefully annoying, "you should joost go, 'oh this old stuff? It's really not all too curious, I joost decided that me hair should be these colors, and so I summoned Dumbledore himself ta do it.'" He grinned again, attempting to hide it by sipping his beer. "I think he'd be a terrible hairdresser, even wiv that exorbitant beard o' his."

"That's joost me, though. Maybe you could tell em', 'gee thanks, grew it meself', and that ought ta get em' to fook off." He shrugged, tapping on the tabletop with the tips of his fingers. He was suddenly very glad Aphrodite had come along, she was good company, and he hadn't even realized it. He didn't stay on it too long, though, and crossed his legs, observing all the people around him out his peripheral vision.

《 [font=comic sans] @Gem Stuart 》

Aph practically choked on her drink when he told her his father was apart of the band the Revolvers. She just thought it was just common to have the name Gem, and thought nothing of it. So that meant she was talking to.. Gem Stuart.

It honestly had her taken aback, if she was being utterly honest. She'd been listening to them for quite a while now, ever since she got into muggle music. Although she was a pure-blood, her father had been very lenient on what she was allowed to do, causing her to get really interested into muggle culture.

As she swallowed her excitement, she looked back up at him, still unable to believe her eyes. When he had commented on her little hair predicament, she giggled and gave a nod. "Yeah, maybe I will say that next time.." She said with a grin, glancing down at the now stomped cigarette on the ground. She looked back to the counter where her lightly used fag had been sitting and picked it up gently, avoiding any ash prone to fall on her. She threw it down just like he had done, stomping on it a few times before looking back up at him.

"Haha, weird question, but ah- Are you by any chance dating a girl named Brielle?" She questioned lightly, hoping she didn't sound like some crazy stalker. It was just bugging her, and the fact that her friend could possibly be dating the son of her favorite bands guitarist made her slightly jealous.

@Aphrodite Bloom

Gem's face flashed with only a second of concern when Aphrodite's expression got all wide-eyed and surprised, afraid that she might keel over and have a seizure or something. She didn't, though, and he was relieved it was so. He furrowed his eyebrows, kept his smile, though - he couldn't miss that. It was a bit funny.

"Wot was that all about? You looked like I joost told ya I killed yer mam." He took a sip of his beer again, watching her stamp out her own cigarette. It was kinda cute, having her mirror his actions-- it kind of reminded him of little kids doing just as their parents did, repeating the phrases and all. He didn't mention this, since it was unrelated and a bit niche. He had trouble staying on topic.

He raised his eyebrows at the mention of Brielle, nodding attentively like it was the most obvious answer in the entire world. He'd told some people, mostly his bunkmates, that he was - Brielle was a bit popular amongst boys, so being able to tell all his pals about it was something else. He remembered everything they'd said, most even thought he was lying, but the more he and Bri would walk around the school holding hands, Gem writing sickly-sweet anecdotes about her in his journal and such, it became clear he was not, in fact, lying. Imagine that, some geeky little tosser dating one of the prettiest girls in school; he felt himself grin just thinking about it.

"Brielle- yeh! That's me little lady, love her to death," He sat up straight, a little twinkle in his eye while he lifted his butterbeer back up to his lips, taking a longer sip. "why? Saw us around or somefin'?"

《 [font=comic sans] @Gem Stuart 》

She gave a weak laugh and shook her head indicating it was nothing. "Just that I- listen to the Revolvers.." She sad quietly, as if it was embarrassing this little girl listened to his father's music.

When he told her that he was, in fact dating Brielle though, it caused her jaw to drop. I mean- Go Bri for getting a winner, like seriously. She watched as he smiled to himself at the mere thought of her, causing Aphrodite to nod in approval. He seemed to care about her, and that was really all she could ask from someone dating her best friend.

"Nah, I'm just one of her close friends, that's all. You're all she ever talks about I'll have you know. God, it's like she's obsessed over you or something!" She said with a laugh, glancing over at a few kids rough housing in the back of the bar. Aphrodite then took another sip of her drink, raising one solid eyebrow at him.

"Does she know you smoke? Better yet, has she smoked with you? 'Lemme tell ya, that would make for a stunning date." She said sarcastically, unable to wipe the grin off of her face.