Get me Gone [Open]

[Jazz Winston Forest]

Sleeping, eating, quidditch practice, and homework. That was about all Jasper had done for weeks, like a cleanse, to get his mind off of everything. No thinking about Sam, or anything anyone said about him. He'd written home, spent some time bugging Paul. Typical things.

He felt a little bad for cutting himself off from everyone, even Jake a little more than he wanted, but he'd needed it. He had been photographing, reading the muggle paper his parents sent.

It had been a bit hard for him to refocus himself, but he felt like he was back on track now. He'd gone down to the pitch hoping to find someone with common interest, something to talk about. Maybe Jake would be there. He had to throw himself back into being social. Even though he had needed it, not being social had started to get to him. He needed it back.

[Jake Keisinger]

so what we muck up

so what we don't sleep
we're just havin' fun
and we don't care who see's

* * * * * *[/center]

Jake was not a cruel person. Hell, he struggled to even stay angry with them, let alone carry a grudge; it took a lot for either of the aforementioned to hold water. Borderline abandonment, really, or absolute betrayal. He was absolutely of the stock that precluded absolute loyalty to your friends. Bro's before hoes. Sisters before misters. Literally. As close to what Helga Hufflepuff had wanted to exemplify Hufflepuff as was concievably possible.

Indeed. It was exactly why he preferred not to dwell on bitterness. Or think of those who had left him. Abandoned him. For others. For. Others. Friendship apparently did not hold the priceless value it had once held. Oh, it wasn't Jazz he blamed for any of this. Not really, bar perhaps a slight figurative blindness on his part. He felt worse about himself, for not giving up the ghost sooner. It had done horrible things to him too, if NEWTs hadn't already buggered with his sleeping patterns. They'd both been double-crossed. Never again would it happen.

Mind, even if he understood, a part of him was still a little hurt that Jazz had distanced himself so at the end of it all.

Which was perhaps why he didnt hasten to leap onto his broom and into the sky as he was usually wont to do, when he looked up from his spot lounging on the Quidditch Stands to see the years familiar form of his best mate and Beater-in-arms up in the sky. Not noticing him, which was fair enough; you tended not to expect to find someone lounging/lying about in the stands with a book in hand and a broomstick beside them and a Quaffle borrowed and resting on their stomach.

It was tempting to let it be and go unnoticed, but even stung, Jake's good nature won out. Thus, with a sigh, he shifted the Quaffle from stomach to hands, Beater strength giving him leverage even from his half-lying position to toss the red ball in Jazz's direction when he was close enough.

"Think fast, Forest!" he called.

livin' young and wild and free

so what we go out, that's how we're supposed to be

Notes: Sorry darl, still testing my new pretty coding shizz. xD