THE TEST .

[Agatha LeBreun]

If this a test

I'm losing my sh*t

Sadly, Agatha had no excuse to not show up today to Luke’s photo shoot. She hadn’t run a lost hottie, and she had no reasons to speed. She was on time, and she was already changed with the outfit she’d chosen that day, on the first time she had ever met Lukey boy. No excuses could be put before her now. Might as well get it out of the way before she managed to ruin it yet again, and have to re-schedule yet again and postpone her torture. Agatha had to constantly remind herself that this was all her fault, and nobody else’s, no matter how much she wanted to blame Luke for the unpleasantness of the entire ordeal. Sure, he was hang over, but she didn’t have to snap at him like that. He was a photographer and he had hired a so-called model. Professionalism had to come from both ways. All that Agatha had ever done was demand professionalism from him without giving the same thing back. She could see that now, having given herself time to chill out and cool off from that horrid tantrum that had taken a hold of her. Yes, she was sort of ashamed of her behavior now. And the whole flipping him off thing? Agatha groaned. Dear, she really had this way of making things worse for herself. But it was just that he had to be so annoying, and so infuriating and so—UGH! That was the only word she could find that would fit Luke’s description. He rubbed her on all the wrong ways, and it was so not cool! Like, how did he even dare to be like that? How was he still alive after being like that all of his life? He must’ve been on the wrong end of various fists if he was like that all the time. Like, um, ew? Who worked like that with people? It was no wonder Fredo was the only company he’d seen him with. Not that she’d seen him all that much—one time, anyone?—you know, but that wasn’t her business, was it? This relationship was strictly professional, so she would get through this—no, breeze through this, and Luke would finally find a picture he liked, and they wouldn’t have to see each other’s faces again.

That was definitely a pick-me-up, and despite Agatha’s hair whipping painfully against her face, she smiled full-heartedly. She had to get through today and that was that. Never again would she reply to an internet ad before checking up the backups and never again would she work with Luke. Grinning like a fool, she parked her Vespa, kicked the stand and pulled off her helmet, shaking her hair just like last time. Except last time her scooter hadn’t had a dent the size of a guy’s leg, and she hadn’t run her fingers quickly through her hair, trying to untangle it as much as possible before she met Fredo. Just thinking about what he would say if he saw her on this state was enough to make her crouch and peer into her right side rearview mirror, digging through her knapsack for that bow that had caused Fredo so much distress. Snorting as she remembered the horror on his face when she and Luke had insisted he put it in her hair, she clipped it quickly in, trying to make some shape into the nest her hair had turned into. She really had to start looking in on some nets for her hair while she rode her scooter. Seriously, it was a total tragedy. Patting it several times just to assure herself that it wasn’t that bad, she straightened and tugged on her tutu. She was sure she’d been quite the sight, riding her Vespa on a black leotard with her matching tutu, but hey, at least she’d saved herself the need to change in front of those guys yet again. Yech. So she’d preferred to give a spectacle on the streets of New York City instead of giving those two a spectacle. Besides, she wasn’t that weird a sight. Everyone had seen worse things in their life. Especially if you were a native New Yorker. It was the center of creative development, and there was a certain freedom that you felt if you wanted to express yourself. People didn’t judge you half as easily, or if they did, they just credited it to an innate lunacy that every New Yorker carried inside if him or herself. Oh yeah, Agatha loved living here. What she didn’t love, however, was how the lace itched. Scratching at her thigh idly again, she went up the steps and didn’t even bother knocking this time around.

She figured that arguing the way she had around Luke gave her some kind of right. How did that work, you shouldn’t question, because in Agatha’s mind, it made sense. She was comfortable enough around Luke to curse him, then she was comfortable enough to walk into his apartment as if she owned the place. It wasn’t like there was much to be afraid of, anyway. Luke was harmless, and Fredo—well, Fredo was quite simply put, adorable. It had taken all of Agatha’s willpower not to squeeze his cheeks when he’d clung to her on their way to his house in her Vespa. “I’m here!” she called out uselessly, throwing her knapsack to the floor and kicking off her flats. Agatha was determined to make this work today, even if it meant that her tongue would end up highly bruised from all the times she would bite it. Murdering Luke was not an option, and using Fredo as a hostage to get rid of the situation wasn’t either. She was a professional—okay, she really wasn’t a professional model in the way the Chanel models were, but she was professional in her own low-key scale, and that meant that she should be capable of pulling this through with a winning shoot. She was feeling relaxed, what with her hair loose, and she was feeling confident, something she hadn’t the other day when she’d first stepped into the place. “Sooo…” she trailed off, raising her eyebrow and tapping her bare foot. “Let’s get a move on, then!”

L U K E, D U H

[Luke Shaw]

_{A DREAM,}

( you live inside a dream

[/b][/size] )
e v e r y t h i n g• t a s t e s• s o• s w e e t• a s• l o n g• a s •i t • a g r e e s
^{with how you feel.}[/i][/center][/font]

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Was Luke sadistic? Because he really enjoyed taking the pleasure out of everything and torturing people. Really, even if he was miserable along with them and detested them as much as they couldn't seem to stand him - he found enjoyment from their misery. That automatically deserves the word "sadistic." However, he didn't do that to just anyone. He had friends, people he got along with and he didn't like pesting them. So did it still make him sadistic if he just got a kick out of tormenting say - particularly annoyed people? With people like that, Luke refused to let them bother him more than he bothered them. He had to have the upper hand, call it the male ego, call it whatever you want but it was there. Well, we'll give you an example. Agatha Christie here. From the moment he read her reply to his internet advertisement it was like he could feel it in his bones that she was easily irritated - not to mention, equally irritating. He could have let this whole contract go, in fact his first instinct told him to do so. He needed a really excellent picture to get this job and it was common sense that if something wasn't working, it needed to be changed. You're going to get the same result over and over unless you modify. Still, Luke liked how much it bothered "Aggie the aggitated" that she couldn't get away from him and had to do what he asked. It's in the contract, my dear. The way he looked at it (and he had a very odd way of looking at most things) if you didn't find a way to make lemonade out of your sour lemons, you might as well not be a lemon farmer at all. What? Yeah, well.....there was a point but that's been forgotten. Fact of the matter was, Luke enjoyed what he did and since he hadn't ever experienced much of a reprecussion from it he would continue to be this way. It was very difficult to change him. Even if he ever wanted too it would take a lot of hard work and several relapses. Luke just, was. He was mean and he was kind, selfish and selfless, funny and sarcastic. Every part of his personality coincided with another and it was like a weight that needed constant balance. Luke didn't know how to tip the scale to either side and so he remained there, balancing on the edge. A rather dangerous place to be.

Luke set everything up like last time, except unlike before, he didn't have a bottle of wine and his sunglasses were nowhere to be found. He wasn't an alcoholic or a recovering alcoholic, he just liked a drink from time to time and when you're focusing on your hand of cards, sometimes you let the number of drinks you consume slip. It happens. It had taken every ounce of strength Luke had not to gamble last night. He was going to prove to Aggie that he was at the same level of professional when he was hung over as when he wasn't. Of course since she hadn't liked him the last time, that would come off to her that he just wasn't any good. Which he was, but he was not about to go out of his way for a wanna-be midget model. Not that he was irritated from their last personal encounter because he wasn't, he was over that. Basically. "When I am finished with zee makeup and hair I will be leaving. I have already seen a war and that was enough for me." Luke really hadn't focused on what Fredo had said, he nodded his head because he was busy paying attention to how he had said it. "Zee?" He was French now too? This man couldn't decide on one accent. It was no wonder Luke hadn't a clue as to where he was from other than the European continent. Though his curiousity had sprung upon him, he almost didn't want to know because it was fun to guess. Having predicted the rest of this shoot would go exactly as the last, with no "wow" pictures, he was ready to go outside and had packed the necessary equipment in his bag. They'd go to the nearby park where there was good lighting and woodsy background. The only trouble would be the flying frisbees. The downside? More time spent with Agatha. Perhaps he was drawing this out was because Luke knew he'd never have to work or see her again and this project was his last opportunity to annoy her before being forced to search for someone else. He had a foundation to build on now - they had history. Why would he so willingly throw that all away and start completely from scratch?

I'm here! There was the killjoy now. Luke turned around and smiled directly at the girl by the door. It was an open-mouthed, toothy grin, and clearly the fakest he could come up with. Fredo dropped his head in his hand and shook it slowly. "Ah, Miss Agatha has finally graced us with her presence. So, tell me." Luke walked up until he was beside her, putting his arm around her shoulder. "How was the car accident? Didya kill anyone?" It had to have been a vespa/human car crash otherwise she'd be in the ICU. Another car would have creamed her and another bike would have left them equally bruised. Unless...she ran into an object like the stop sign. Oh, what he would have given to be a witness to that. He removed his arm quickly before she had a fit about harassment all over again. Cleaning off the lens of his camera again, he returned to the photo area. "Dressed and ready to go. Look at that Fredo, it's like she's a real model." Almost. Except for the fact that she was unprofessional and obnoxious and was far too short to ever get on a runway. Looks like she'll be sticking to commericals then. Fredo appeared disgruntled and he gave Luke no response. Walking over to Agatha he clicked his tongue at her hair again - but, it showed improvement. He understood completely how a vespa could do that to hair now that he had experienced it first hand. Ahh, that was a joy. He had seen many on the streets of Italy but was always riding in a limo or something equally stuffy. Though he hadn't really said it, you could tell that it had been a thrill for Fredo to let some of his hairsprayed hair go free. "Take a seat my darling." He was more gentle this time around and the preperation didn't take nearly as long. She was in better condition and well, Fredo didn't really bother because he knew this photoshoot was going to end in a disappointment, anyway. "And if you two," he pointed his comb at each of them, shaking it violently. "-could not kill each other I would immensely appreciate it. Fredo said something under his breath in another language and then spun the chair around so that Agatha could hop off. "Of course not Alfredo. We're both professionals here." He raised an eyebrow at Agatha as if challenging her.

"I'm talking!"

[/color]
"I'm thinking!"

[/size] • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

WORDS! 1222
STATUS! COMPLETE
NOTES! Meh. I didn't bother making an outfit this time. I was lazy. The clothes in the picture above is what he is wearing. Super casual eh?
TAGS! Agatha
INSPIRATION! The washer machine. It was very soothing.
TEMPLATE CREDIT! Arro @ Caution 2.0
PICTURE CREDIT! photobucket
[/blockquote]

[Agatha LeBreun]

If this a test

I'm wasting my breath

Well, at least someone was in a good mood, Agatha smirked as she took a seat, rolling her eyes at the fakeness of it all. Luke could definitely do better than that, but she wasn’t to spend any breath of hers on telling him that. They both knew it; he simply wasn’t putting the heart into it because he didn’t want to. Apparently, Agatha wasn’t worth it. “What? I’m on time,” she said innocently as she plopped into the seat with a certain flair, arranging her tutu and throwing tendrils of hair over her shoulder. “Fredo baby, hello,” she cooed as she kissed both of his cheeks. “Today, can you pretty please leave my hair down? I’ll work better this way, promise,” she said, batting her eyelashes at the foreigner. That little trip on her Vespa had taken them a long distance. She felt more comfortable with him, than with say, oh, Luke. Of course, anyone would voice that same opinion if they were on Luke’s presence for more than three minutes. Chuckling a little bit, she closed her eyes and waited for Fredo to work his magic. Last time she’d loved the job he’d done, had even taken a couple of tips from him for future reference, and right now she just wanted for this to be done quickly. Nobody could blame her, could they? Hm. She wondered if Luke had any friends. With the kind of temperament he had, whoever were his friends deserved recognition of saints. He was ridiculously too much to handle. “What?” she asked, feigning puzzlement. The last thing she needed was to rehash what had happened on Wednesday. She’d suffered enough embarrassment as it were, to replay it again, and before Luke. Please. She wasn’t stupid. It was almost insulting, how he asked so casually about it. Did he really think she was going to crack open and lay out the dirty grind for him to inspect and guffaw at? High chance of that happening like, ever. “Very amusing, Luke,” she said with a roll of her eyes as she smoothly slid away from his arm around her. Normally, Agatha was all for human contact, but there was just something…off in the weight of Luke’s arm around her. Maybe it was because she didn’t want to have contact with him that she felt that way, or maybe it was because she didn’t like him…or because the guy had a very negative vibe about him in general. Whatever the reason, Agatha wanted to avoid contact, thanks, and the brute better respect it.

“No, I didn’t kill anyone,” she said after a pause, rubbing her lips together. “But I will if you don’t step away from my personal space bubble,” she simpered in a false cheerful tone. He’d removed his arm already too, but darn, he was still too close. He went on to clean his camera soon enough, and Agatha could finally expel a sigh of relief. When he was near, her chest felt…tight, somehow. It wasn’t pleasant, and she did not wish to repeat the experience again. “Yes, look at that Fredo,” Agatha agreed. “It’s Luke trying to be witty!” Sticking her tongue out at him, she crossed her legs prettily and re-arranged herself on her seat. Fredo worked in a flurry, it seemed, and in no time, she was ready. Great. The sooner the better she could get rid of those two. Well, Fredo not so much. She’d be happy to give him a call sometime to have some yummy Italian and gab about everything and nothing. Sadly, the invitation would most definitely not be extended to Luke. Sadly? Yeah, right. Snorting as she hopped off the stool, Agatha took her sweet time arranging her tutu, and when she thought she was ready, skipped off to her marker. She was going to blow Luke away. She was not going to leave room for doubts about her professionalism. Agatha was a model, darn it, even if it was sparely and not really as a profession in general, but what she set her mind to do, she did well! Brown frowning in determination pushed her hair backwards and raised her eyebrows at the challenge he shot at her. “I know I am,” Agatha said simply enough, not really wanting to delve into it further. Avoiding dangerous territory was going to be her game this evening, no matter how difficult Luke made it for her. “Can we start?” she called out, twirling her finger around one of her locks of hair. She was as ready as she would ever be, so why not start right away? Besides, it seemed as if Luke was ready for an outside expedition, and Agatha couldn’t wait to prove him wrong.

“Come on, Luke,” she called out cheerfully. “We gotta get this over with if you still want to have decent lighting on your outdoors photoshoot,” she giggled, wriggling her toes in his general direction. “And I’m ready,” she chanted. Okay, so she was bordering on the obnoxious though. It really wasn’t her intention, but gosh, it was so difficult to resist temptation when it was so openly there. Did Luke think he was the only one with a right to go bipolar on her? Hah. Please. Agatha could do that too in the blink of an eye. Fluffing her hair, Agatha picked it up and piled it atop of her head, much like Fredo had done, but instead of doing it permanently, she simply did it with her left hand, while the right one tugged at a strand of it. First, she pouted at Luke, then her expression changed and she was almost daring him to take a picture. Seriously, if he was so dead set that this was going to suck, the least he could do was get a move on, right? “Hey, Luke,” she started again. “Do you like, have any friends?” she questioned as she shifted, letting her hair fall against her back again and getting comfortable on the cold floor. She was not going to complain about it this time around, nor letting an inkling of her discomfort shine through. Crossing her arms at her wrists, she tilted her chin up, letting some neck show—necks were huge on the modeling business—sitting up primly. “I mean, I know you’re a douche, but even douches have friends, right?” She was probably pushing it. Breaching some kind of limits they hadn’t established yet, but oh well. What was the worst thing he could do? Throw her out? Snarl at her? Been there, done that. Shifting her pose yet again, she opted for a more forward position, something slightly more suggestive, even for prudish Agatha. Moving so her legs were in front, she opened them slightly, pushing her tutu between them so he wouldn’t get any kind of awkward shots, and leaning forward just slightly, crossing her arms at the wrists again, consciously creating cleavage. Hey, it was all in the name of work.

It was obvious Agatha was starting to loosen up. Her poses, her faces—they were all more relaxed, calm, somehow. Sure, Luke wanted ‘scene’, but apparently they had the look down pat. What he was looking for was the shot that would make people remember him? Well, Agatha would give him just that. She had to admit, he looked so much better without those horrendous bags underneath his eyes. And when they weren’t bloodshot, his eyes could even be…captivating, to some degree. Smirking at her own thoughts, Agatha shook her head and toyed with her hair some more and pulled her legs closer to herself, the bottom of her feet flat against the cold floor. “You even look decent today,” she said as she pushed her hair over her shoulder and tilted slightly to the right. “How you even managed it is beyond me,” she mocked, her hands still keeping the tutu safely in place to keep herself from being totally indecent.

[Luke Shaw]

----- "I don't know what it is but you've got it, you've got it" -----

One time? What did she percieve as being "on time?" Agatha missed their first appointment entirely when she knew he had a deadline. She did it to spite him, but Luke wasn't allowing it to get to him. He was cool, he was mellow as a snail. He was the annoyer, not the annoyee. Although in this case, there seemed to be an exception. Agatha had been in a car accident, unless she was an expertly skilled actress and then Luke would suggeest she move in that line of direction because modeling was taking her nowhere. "Anyting you want. I just fix it up right here like zhis," he grabbed the ends and brushed them out. It was much better to work with today than the first time, or else he was simply getting used to it. Fredo wasn't going to play pushy hairdresser today. He had a theory that the less harassment both of these stubborn people recieved, the more likely this was going to end in peace. Or, at least only minor bruising. So far it wasn't as bad. Luke was in a better mood and though Fredo could never call him "good natured," at least he wasn't screaming at her. Lukie always picked a fight, Fredo couldn't understand why. Luke had little to no confidence in this girl's ability to give him a good picture. He could have been the best human focused photographer in the world instead of an amature scenery photographer and still not have gotten "the shot" out of the options she had given him in their previous photoshoot. Where was the passion, the drive? You give the camera a look, and it's still just a look. People can fake a smile but when you can fake emotion with the smile? When a model can pretend to be a bride and sincerely appear as if it was the happiest day of her life and that she wasn't going to go throw up her lunch after this picture? That was a real model. It was a gift. Not many people had it. Luke flipped through magazines and a lot of the models who had full-page spreads didn't "have it." Despite not having "the look" and basically wasting Luke's time, there was something about Aggie that he liked. It wasn't just bothering her that he enjoyed - he whole reason he enjoyed bothering her is because he liked her, somehow, in a twisted fashion. That's why he bugs you. It's too bad no one took it has a compliment.

Very amusing, Luke. Yeah, he knows. He was a lot of not-so-nice things but at least amusing was something good he could put down on an applicant page without feeling like a liar. He was amusing even when he was taunting you. "Tip of the day - get over your personal space issue. I promise you, after you get in a room full of guys and girls half naked bumping into each other, you'll forget all about my arm." There wasn't much of a way to prepare people for it. Going backstage before a big fashion show or shoot was like going to another country and getting culture shock. It all hit you at once but you had to get over it quick because pretty soon people of all different sizes and genders were poking at your bare skin and yanking on your hair. That was not the life for Luke. Naked girls, nice. Naked guys? They cancelled out the naked girls. Fredo kept his mouth shut, but once he finished preparing Agatha he didn't leave like he said he would. He did, however, step out of the way and stood against the wall with all of his belongings in hand...just in case. I know I am. "Think again." Okay, she was irritating to him. But Luke had decided he was going to play nice guy when she came in here so she'd be all confused. It was time to put that in action and stop having a moment. "That's true. I'm looking for a really good tree shot. Maybe we'll go to the zoo and you can hang upside down like the rest of the monkeys. I'm sure you'd be riiight at home." Ahah. Yeah, so much for playing sudden nice guy. What could he say? She brought out the very worst in Luke - and he liked it. Luke angled the camera and began taking some shots, for once not having to direct her. Agatha was actually bringing her A game here, surprisingly enough. He'd bet she spent all night lying awake in bed just stewing over what poses she could do. Such a drastic change in performance had to have called for a drastic measure. Unless she was simply not the same girl. It might also have helped that she had shut up for more than five sec- oh, spoke too soon.

"I don't know why I ever doubted your professionalism," he replied. Luke left it at that, becaus he didn't like, even in the teasing sense, when people took cheap shots at his personal life. Especially since Luke really didn't get along with that many people and he had to keep the focus on her. He wasn't giving her any insight into his life or ammunition. Just like the camera, he kept it focused on her. "Keep posing like that with your legs out. It looks great." She was beginning to get the hang of it now, seeing what he wanted. Her temper helped full the "scene" look she refused to label it by, but it was scene none of the less. "You even look decent today." He put his hand on his chest and pretended to be shocked by her. "Was that a compliment?" Luke smirked and put the camera back to his eye. "Someone's in a good mood today. Despite what you think this is how I typically appear. Tea bagless and wide awake." While Luke could handle it and at this point fully expected it, he couldn't picture Agatha, as pretty as she was seriously modeling. Photographers just didn't take models who talked back. That got kicked to the curb. He felt like his lessons and constant sarcasm was maybe teaching her a lesson so she would go splat right on her pretty little face. Then again you know models, they're stubborn asses. Fredo's fingers, which had been gripping his makeup bag so tightly they were ready to tear a hole through it, loosened just a little. This wasn't so bad. He had definitely seen worse in his career. It wasn't sunny, but it wasn't the freezing Antartica anymore either. Both of their icy composures were beginning to melt. Could this be true? What a relief . Fredo had a sensitive body and his bowels just couldn't take this kind of drama anymore. His face relaxed too, so he no longer looked like a cornered cat, a terrorized look locked on his face. Luke clicked a couple more pictures as Agatha modified her pose and looked down at the screen of his camera that played what he had just shot. He stared at it, pulling the camera far enough away from his face to get a good look. His finger ever-so-slowly eased off the snap button like a shooter letting go of the trigger. There was a strange silence and then Luke looked up, an unreadable expression on his face as he shrugged. "Hmm, I got it. That was it........six roles of film later," he had to add, it was his nature. "I guess this means that you're a free woman Agatha Christie." Just like that, in the most anti-climatic way possible, Luke walked over to his camera bag and put it in, zipping it up and turning to look at the two guests in his apartment like he couldn't figure out why they were still there. Fredo's face washed over with a sense of firm accomplishment and he merely nodded, opening the door to exit. Luke waved his hand at Agatha and turned his back from her, pulling an envelope out of pocket. He held it out to her without even looking at her face, still turned so that he was blocking view. It was the money he owed for the shoot. "Bye," he said abruptly, his mood changing again for the millioneth time since they had met.

[Agatha LeBreun]

Looks like a

L U S H

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said off-handedly as she rubbed her elbow. Apparently, hitting it against the wall was not a good idea. Good thing it hadn’t been intentional. Rolling her eyes at herself she wriggled her toes. “It’s just you who I have personal space issues.” And it was true too. Agatha wasn’t just saying that as a witty comeback, even if it did fit. Truth was that Agatha loved invading personal space. It was like a hobby of hers. She loved being affectionate with people, and cuddling, and hugging and holding hands and…yeah, just physical contact in general, Agatha was always up for it. With Luke? Not so much. He gave her goosebumps in the not so good way. He made her feel uneasy and somewhat cornered. At least that’s what she’d gotten when he’d been so close to her, just a few minutes ago. Agatha wasn’t scared of him—he had the brightest blue eyes, who could be scared of that? He just…didn’t make her comfortable. Did that make sense? Because it did inside her mind. Luke was cute, if you ignored his attitude and focused on the physics, and perhaps Agatha would’ve found herself crushing on him if they hadn’t ruined any chance of an amicable relationship on their first meeting. Agatha was really hard to impress in any kind of negative way, and now it was just all over the place with Luke and her. Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to bother her pretty head about it for much longer, because guess what? They were getting rid of each other! And yes, she did feel the need to say “of each other” because she was sure that this was a relief to Luke as it was to her. Mutually, they were in an agreement to disagree on their personalities. Who could help it? Certainly not her. Even if she was on her best behavior right now, it would probably take her some time to accept Luke for who he was, and to be with him for long periods of time—it just was too problematic. And now, don’t get her wrong, some people were worth it, but how was she to be assured that Luke was worth it? No, she wasn’t looking to delve deeper into the situation, she just wanted out, because she was tired of this—even if it was their second meeting—and vicious cycles were not her thing. How could they be anybody’s thing? It wasn’t healthy. Scrunching up her face as she played with her tutu, Agatha’s mind started wandering while his camera clicked away.

“I don’t like monkeys,” she admitted as she scratched her cheek. “But hey, at least that justifies why I don’t like you.” Eh, it was hard to keep her mouth shut when she was thinking on those kinds of trails. Maybe if she focused on other type of stuff. If she got too distracted though, it was going to show, and then Luke was gonna get pissy again, and scold her for being so ‘unprofessional’, and he was going to say something like how that proved she wasn’t fit to be a model and, oh dear, just thinking about it made Agatha’s head hurt. For someone who’d known her so little, Luke sure had some type of weird power over her, and it was too much. It should’ve scared her. Except, Agatha was, you know, too busy cursing him in her mind to read too much into it. “Hey now,” she protested. “No need to get all snarky on me. I just asked a simple question. If you didn’t feel like answering it, you could’ve ignored it, or something. See, I think I’ve found the root of your problem: you can’t keep quiet. Not for the life of you. Do you think it’s some kind of psychological disorder?” Definitely projecting herself, but poor Agatha, she wasn’t registering it. She was so focused on Luke and pointing out his flaws that she didn’t see the mammoth sized mistake she was committing. She wanted to prove herself right so badly in front of this guy. Needed it as surely as everyone needs to breathe in order to survive. It never crossed her mind to question why this burning need existed, because it simply did, and to Agatha, it was enough. “But I guess that means that no, you don’t have any friends.” Can’t say I blame them, wasn’t spoken out loud though, but Agatha sure as heck thought about it. No, she wasn’t this mean on a regular basis, but no, she wasn’t thinking about that either. What was she thinking about, though?

Snorting, Agatha shook her head, making her dark locks move around and stay in disarray. Figures he would like the ones with her legs out. Luke was, after all, a guy, and guy noticed those kinds of things. Especially photographers. They had a thing for sensuality. Not that Agatha was calling herself sensual, but the poses she was given off on any other girl would’ve looked sensual. On her it was just…Agatha. Like, there wasn’t anything sexual or flirting, or whatever behind them, mainly because Agatha herself wasn’t feeling much. She knew she had to put a lot of work behind that, to try and project emotions to keep people hooked or in the mood, but sensual? Yeah, not really her type. But, here she was, doing those kinds of poses. Would there ever come a day when she would stop contradicting herself? It had to come soon. Before she died, hopefully. “I am in a good mood, actually. More so when we’re done. Don’t get me wrong, not that I don’t enjoy our sublime bantering, but, well, see, I don’t like you.” Her lips twisted into a frown themselves as her chin wrinkled and her brows rose. It was a weird expression in and of itself, but it fit Agatha nonetheless. “And I don’t really think it was that much of a compliment as it was an observation,” she pointed out in the end, after she’d had some time to mull it over. “People without bags under their eyes look better than the ones who do have bags. Same goes for bloodshot eyes—and the hangover symptoms in general.” This time around, she did give him a toothy grin as he proclaimed he had the right picture, and she bounced up as if she’d been sitting on a spring, just waiting to be released. “Awesome! See, I told you we’d nail it,” she said excitedly with a little clap of her hands. “Ooh, can I see? No, wait, just link me to them later on your blog.” Nah, she wasn’t on a hurry to leave, of course not. She was gonna ramble on, but she got interrupted by his abrupt dismissal. That was…it? That was seriously it?! How…anti-climatic of him. But fitting. What had she been expecting? Fireworks? A squeal, and a jumping session? Somehow that didn’t really ring any of Luke’s bells. This, however, did. ‘Bye’. How very boring.

Harrumphing to herself, Agatha snatched the envelope from his fingers and placed her hands on her hips. “Is something innately wrong with you, Luke Shaw, that you simply can’t be a decent human being in general?” Oh, because she was setting such an example right now, wasn’t she? But Agatha was really good at ignoring her thoughts on times like this. Especially when she was going to give a speech. “Because, honestly, people like you don’t get far along in life if they don’t modify something at least. Have you thought about that?” She knew she wasn’t the best example, okay, but she was curious. She wanted to know Luke was like that, even if she’d already proved him wrong, she couldn’t leave it at that, because, apparently, her mouth was set on working on overload this specific day. Maybe it was the caffeine, or maybe it was because Agatha, as much as she had whined and complained about him, found herself wanting to know stuff. Or maybe it was how he’d brushed her away, so easily, as if she didn’t matter at all. Agatha mattered. She really did.

[Luke Shaw]

----- "Oh, we're all sinners here tonight" -----

Their constant bitter banter back and forth was nothing short of childish. It was the same kind of fighting you would see on a playground, or even in daycare, the only exception being theirs was much wittier given years of experience. Luke didn't care, he knew his type of arguing was immature, the same kind where a brother would continually poke his sister in the care and drive her nuts, while maintaining a perfect composure. At least he knew what he was, Agatha had this illusion that she was all grown up and ready to be a model. The kind of behavior she was representing was proof that she wasn't anywhere close - at least that's how he felt. If she had told him the way he made her feel - all goosebumpy like there wasn't something right about him, he would have thought about it for a moment. Even when he was nice to people, close friends would sometimes let him in on their secret that he could make them feel the same way. Luke freaked people out without trying and he found that...well, weird. He went to the cemetary from time to time but they didn't know that. He didn't have voo doo dolls lying around or in his closet, and Luke had a very normal, clean appearance. Was his character really that disarming? He must have been better at this than he thought. It could definitely inable him in a lot of things, but it was also a useful tool - if only he knew how to turn it off and on like the flip of a switch. Agatha and Luke had something in common - they both were thrilled when they invaded personal space, however different their reasonings behind this were. She probably did it out of some lovey gesture, whereas Luke did it to further irritate. When someone didn't want you in their bubble, he popped it. There, let's see how they did without a bubble at all. Like I said, childish and he knew it. Also, why did it feel like Luke wasn't going to be free of her? Even now that this was all over with and he got the shot he wanted, it's like he could tell that even in this largely populated state of people who were too busy for each other, he was going to have to "deal" with Agatha again. He couldn't think of a better term to use than deal. She was like a situation. That could have contributed as to why he had brushed her off so easily when he was finished - he thought it wouldn't be the last time they had to look at each other.

Luke smirked at her monkey response. She really didn't know how to argue. If he already insinuated she was a monkey, turning it around and calling him one as well made them both monkeys, which meant they might as well have still been both humans, and it defeated the comparision completely. Only, he supposed if he had to pick one animal that she was most like, he wouldn't call her a monkey - no, she hit the nature of the donkey spot on. No need to get snarky on me. Well it was an awfully personal question now wasn't it? One he wasn't really inclined to answer so he continued to snap the photos. The fact that she thought she knew anything about him or his personal life behind what she saw right here was laughable. You couldn't read that much into someone you'd only met twice, and once was forfeit because he had a hang over and people aren't themselves like that. "Wait, now I'm confused. Are you talking about yourself? Your mouth-" Luke used his hands and opened and closed his fist to represent the constant movement of her face. "Never. Stops. Going. People need earplugs just to sit next to you. Argh, how can you stand being around yourself? It must be exhausting." He was completely serious. All the ramblings she'd been on, and that was only a tiny portion of her that Luke had been subjected to seeing. Without their knowlege, Fredo, as soon as the sparks began to fly again, quietly grabbed his bag and slipped out the front door. He was an older gentleman now, he had paid his dues back in his younger years with things like this - no more. In reality, it must have been exhausting to be around both of them, especially at the same time. poor Fredo. "You have a serious issue with making assumptions. It doesn't mean no, it means I'm kind of sick of talking to you." Luke's fingers pressed unneccessarily hard down on the camera buttons. He was going to be his usual, annoying self with this girl, playing around with a perfect smile on his face, but he couldn't do it. She bothered him as much if not more than he bothered her. It was uncanny.

"Like I said - you're incapable of being quiet." She was rambling on now about people with hangovers and how they had bloodshot eyes, oh, and bags and oh! And - blahhhhhh. Shut up already. She didn't have anything interesting or new to say. Maybe if she was incredibly smart, like Plato, and everything that came out of that trap of hers was wise or filled him with a new sense of being, but it was all just filler junk that didn't even need to be expressed. Really, he already knew how she felt and that she didn't like him. Obviously. Did she think he thought this was the way she flirted with someone? He wasn't dense. Annoying, but not dense. "I'll post them on my blog and you can see it then," he raised his eyebrows and turned to face away from her, further clarifying that he really was finished and she could, or should just leave. He wasn't an alcoholic in any sense of the word, but she always made him feel like he needed a good strong drink. “Is something innately wrong with you, Luke Shaw, that you simply can’t be a decent human being in general?” Luke rolled his eyes, his back still turned from her as he set his camera on the table and pulled out a dark bag that he would use later to take out of his roll of film. Here we go again. Seriously, was she self righteous or what? "I don't know how you expect someone to reply to a question like that, or what makes you think you're a phyciatrist, but I paid you for your photos. Nothing else." She couldn't finish could she? She couldn't leave him the hell alone and go away. Nope, this girl was going to badger him. If she took too long in her exit don't be surprised if Luke threw her over his shoulder and dumped her outside of the door. "Modify what. I'm twenty-three. You keep saying there's something innately wrong with me, but I just think there's something clearly wrong with you. Now go home, Agatha." Luke turned to face her, as much as he really didn't want to look at her again. What was she going on about? There was nothing wrong with him. He wasn't rainbow and butterflies, yeah. You try growing up in a home where you have to hold a cross between your hands and kneel in front of a picture of Jesus every day because even if you weren't caught, you clearly must have done something sinful within those twenty-four hours. You weren't given any extra chances and if you put your elbows on the table at dinner, you were sent to your room. Ironically, devote religion molded him into someone very un-chartiable to his neighbors. So there, maybe that was it. But he wasn't about to share his life story with her.