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Noah Carpenter - Noah took a break from his sketch from a moment, watching as people walked down the street. He saw his roommate, Em enter the rivalling Cafe across the street and sit down in a corner by the window. He just watched her for a bit, she was really pretty. But Noah didn't really know her at all, so he knocked those thoughts out of his head real fast. When she looked up he darted his eyes down, going back to his sketch, embarrassed and blushing a bit he almost got caught staring at a girl.
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Em’s fingers hovered over the keys for a moment, her mind still a little foggy as she tried to concentrate. But just as she was about to dive back into her notes, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, expecting a notification or a reminder. Instead, it was a text from her stepbrother, Max. “Nvm, other cafe, across the street.” She frowned slightly, confused at first, but then the realization hit her. Max had been texting her about meeting up earlier, but it seemed like his plans had shifted. She glanced at the clock on her laptop screen—just enough time to finish her coffee before heading over. Sighing, she closed her MacBook and grabbed her purse, tossing a few bills onto the table before standing up. She was drained, but a change of scenery—something different for a while—felt like it might be the reset she needed. The café she’d been at was cozy and quiet, but the thought of meeting up with Max, getting a little distraction, made her feel less isolated. She stepped out into the cool afternoon air, the hustle and bustle of the street a little more noticeable now. She crossed the sidewalk and made her way toward the other café, the one Max had mentioned. As she walked through the door, the rich scent of coffee beans immediately hit her, mingling with the faint scent of baked goods in the air. The atmosphere felt different—more lively, maybe a little more upbeat—but it wasn’t overcrowded, thankfully. She scanned the room, looking for Max. And then she spotted him. Max was leaning casually against a wall near the back, his head tilted slightly as he watched people pass by. He was wearing his usual laid-back style—worn jeans and a black hoodie—and the familiar sight of him made Em feel a little lighter, despite her exhaustion. "Hey," she said as she approached, offering a small smile. Max looked up at her, his expression breaking into a grin. “There you are.” He pushed off from the wall and gestured to the seat across from him. "You look like you need a real break, huh?" Em sat down, chuckling lightly. "You have no idea. It’s been one of those days." Max raised an eyebrow, teasing. “One of those days where you forget how to breathe?" “Pretty much,” Em replied with a half-laugh. “It’s just been so much to take in today. My brain’s like… well, it’s not working. That's the best way I can describe it." He leaned back in his chair, studying her for a moment, his gaze softer now. “I get it. School’s a pain sometimes. You’re, like, trying to keep your head above water but it feels like you’re drowning anyway.” “Exactly,” Em said, nodding, relieved that Max seemed to understand. She’d always had a bit of a complicated relationship with him, but when it came to stuff like this, he knew what to say to make her feel like she wasn’t alone in it. Max waved a hand dismissively. “Well, forget all that for now. You’re here now. Let’s just chill for a bit. They’ve got better pastries than that other place.” Em couldn’t help but smile, feeling a little lighter already. She glanced at the counter, where a barista was busy working, and decided she could use something sweet to go with her coffee. "Alright. What do you recommend?” Max shrugged. "I’m partial to the cinnamon rolls here. They're a little messy, but totally worth it." "That’s a dangerous recommendation," she joked, getting up to place her order. Max’s voice followed her as she walked toward the counter. “Hey, no judgment if you get a chocolate croissant instead. I won’t tell anyone.” Em rolled her eyes playfully, but as she turned back toward the counter, she felt a strange sense of calm. The whirlwind of the day was still there, somewhere in the back of her mind, but for a moment, in this little café with her stepbrother, it felt like she could breathe again. Like the pressure of the world had lessened, even if just for a few minutes. When she returned with her pastry and coffee, Max was scrolling on his phone, but when he saw her, he gave her an exaggerated look of approval. "Nice. You went for the chocolate croissant after all." "I needed something decadent," she teased, sitting back down and taking a small bite. The chocolate practically melted in her mouth, and she had to admit, it was worth it. "Smart choice," he said with a grin. "See? We’re already making great decisions today." They both settled into the kind of easy conversation that only came when you’d known someone long enough. For a while, the stress of school and the pressure of the day faded into the background. Maybe she wasn’t caught up yet, but sitting there with Max, chatting about everything and nothing, Em realized it was okay to just take a break. Maybe tomorrow she’d feel more focused, more ready to tackle the mountain of work waiting for her. But for now, she had this moment. And for the first time all day, she felt like she could take a breath.
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Noah Carpenter - Noah watched her as she walked over to the Cafe he was currently in. He stopped watching her directly but watched her through reflections in silverware and windows. It was kind of creepy, but Noah was just curious. He saw her sit down at a table with another guy, oh, so she had a boyfriend. Some piece of him, deep, deep down, crumbled at that, but he refused to acknowledge it. So Noah just finished up starting his sketch and having his lunch before paying and leaving. He went down to the local middle school where he subbed for absent teachers. This helped with his teaching classes, and it wasn't too hard of a job.
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As Em finished off the last bite of her croissant, she sat back, feeling a little lighter than she had when she walked into the café. The world felt just a little bit more manageable, and for a brief moment, she forgot about the to-do lists, the stress, and the pressure that had been weighing her down all day. Max was still fiddling with his phone, scrolling through whatever had caught his attention, but Em’s mind started to drift toward something else—something she hadn’t really thought about much today. “How’s your dad doing?” she asked, her voice softer than usual. She wasn’t sure why the question came to her, but it had been on her mind for a while. She hadn’t spoken much to him lately, and even though she and Max didn’t talk about their parents all the time, she knew his dad had been dealing with a lot of stuff recently. Max looked up, his thumb halting on his phone screen, and met her eyes. He gave a half shrug, like the question wasn’t anything that should be overthought. “He’s… alright, I guess. He’s still working crazy hours. It’s the same old routine. I think he’s just been really stressed out lately, you know?” Em nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. Her own mom had been under a lot of pressure recently, balancing work, life, and everything in between. “Yeah, I get that. My mom’s been pretty stressed too. She’s been doing more work from home and trying to figure out this new project she’s managing. Some days she’s just… exhausted.” Max raised an eyebrow at her. “Sounds like we’ve got parents on opposite ends of the stress spectrum. Yours is buried in paperwork, and mine’s buried in meetings.” Em smiled faintly, grateful for the lightness in his voice. “Yeah, pretty much. I mean, I know it’s a lot for her, but sometimes I feel like she’s just going through the motions, you know? Like she’s there, but not really there.” She sighed softly, pushing her empty plate aside. “I don’t know. It’s like everyone’s just trying to keep their head above water.” Max’s gaze softened for a second, a quiet understanding passing between them. “Yeah, I get that. But, you know, they’re doing their best. And sometimes, they just need a break too, even if they don’t show it.” Em nodded, looking down at her coffee cup. “I think that’s the hardest part. They act like everything’s fine, but you can tell when it’s not. And it feels like there’s nothing you can do to fix it.” Max gave a small, sympathetic smile. “I know what you mean. It’s like, when they’re caught up in all their own stuff, it’s hard to see where we fit in, right? But… we’re still here. And they know that. They just don’t always know how to ask for help.” “Yeah,” Em murmured, feeling a pang of guilt at how little she’d been able to do for her mom lately. She had been so wrapped up in her own world that she hadn’t noticed how much her mom was struggling. “I need to do better about that. About being there.” Max sat up a little straighter, his usual teasing tone slipping away. “You’re not the only one. I’ve got a ton of things I should be doing with my dad too. I think we both forget sometimes that we’re in this together. Even if it’s just… showing up every once in a while.” Em managed a smile, meeting his gaze. “Yeah. You’re right.” For a moment, they just sat there in the quiet, the weight of their words hanging in the air between them. It wasn’t the kind of conversation they often had—things weren’t usually so serious—but there was something about today that made it feel easier to talk about the stuff that was usually left unsaid. Max shifted in his seat, breaking the moment with a small chuckle. “Well, we’ve got the ‘family talk’ out of the way. We can go back to bad jokes and pastries now, right?” Em laughed, feeling lighter again. “Definitely. I’m not sure I’m ready to handle all the deep conversations yet.” Max grinned, his usual playful self returning. “Good. You’re not allowed to get all serious on me just yet.” “Don’t worry,” she said, shaking her head with a grin. “I’ll save that for the next existential crisis.” With that, the conversation shifted back to easy, casual talk, the weight of everything else slipping away once more. But even as they joked and laughed, Em felt a little more grounded, a little more connected—not just to Max, but to the people she cared about, too. Maybe they didn’t have all the answers, but they didn’t need to. Just being here, together, was enough for now.
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Noah subbed in for a Chemistry teacher that afternoon at the middle school. Though, soon enough class was over and so was his subbing job. So he left and went back down to campus, to his dorm. No one was there in the dorm room as he got in and closed the door behind him. He sighed with relief and flopped down on his bed. Noah just laid there for a little bit before getting bored. So he sat up and grabbed his acrylic paints from his desk, along with a paint brush. He didn't grab or need a canvas or paper, instead he just started to paint on his non dominant hand. It was relaxing to him, and beautiful. Human skin was just a blank canvas waiting to be painted on.
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Back in her dorm, the quiet of her room wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. Em tossed her bag onto the bed and sat at her desk, pulling out the fresh sketchpad she’d grabbed earlier. She plugged in her headphones, hit play on a playlist that was a mix of ambient beats and instrumental music, and settled in. The music was soft at first, a steady rhythm that helped calm her mind. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sound fill her senses before she focused on the task at hand. Kinesiology. She had to draw the leg muscles again—this time, she promised herself, it would be better. Em picked up her pencil and began. She lightly sketched the outline of the leg, the bone structure, the curve of the calf, the angle of the thigh. Each stroke was careful, measured. She took a deep breath, and with the music guiding her, she moved on to the muscles, attempting to capture the details and proportions. But halfway through the sketch, her mind began to drift. Her pencil stuttered on the page, the lines becoming less certain, more jagged. She glanced at the clock. It was getting late, and she could feel the pressure of everything else waiting in the background. Her stomach tightened, and the sketch just didn’t look right. Frustration bubbled up inside her. She pressed harder on the pencil, trying to correct the mistakes, but it wasn’t working. The muscles looked too stiff, the shading was off, and the overall proportions felt wrong. She sighed, pushing the paper away. Her hand gripped the edge of the sketchpad for a moment, and then, with a swift motion, she crumpled the page up into a ball. She tossed it across the room, watching it bounce off the wall before landing in a heap by her trash can. Her shoulders sagged, her mind exhausted. She closed her eyes, letting the music continue to wash over her, steady and calm. But she couldn’t stay stuck there. She wouldn’t. Slowly, Em picked up another sheet of paper and, with a sigh, started again. This time, she let go of the need for perfection. She didn’t need to make everything exactly right on the first try. Instead, she let her pencil flow more freely, sketching the leg without obsessing over every little detail. The lines weren’t perfect, but they had a rhythm to them, a flow that felt more natural than the rigid precision she’d tried for before. As the shapes began to form on the page, she realized she wasn’t just drawing muscles—she was letting go. Letting go of the pressure she’d been putting on herself. Of trying to have it all figured out. The sketch might not have been perfect, but that was okay. The page wasn’t crumpled this time, and she could see progress in the way the muscles started to take shape. Maybe that was enough for now. The music played on, and for the first time in a while, Em felt like she was exactly where she needed to be—right there, sketching, headphones on, letting the world slow down for just a moment.
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Noah Carpenter - Noah glanced up at Em every now and then as he continued his painting of flowers and ivy on his hand, each petal and leave very intricate, making it look as if they were actual flowers. His phone pinged, and he dropped his paintbrush down and picked up his phone. It was a text from one of his 'friends' inviting him to a party a few blocks away. Noah sent a thumbs up back and stood. He sighed and stood up, grabbing the wet wipes from off his desk and wiping the painting on his hand away. Noah looked over at Em again. She was always so stiff and focused on her schoolwork. Almost like she didn't know how to have fun. "Hey, I'm going to a party. Wanna come?" he invited her.
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Em looked up from her drawing,turning around in her chair to face him. "No thanks,thanks for offering,though.I've just had,bad experiences,that's all." She said with a soft smile,turning back around and crumpling the new drawing,tossing it aswell.
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"Alright," he said with a shrug and grabbed his keys and phone. (Could we add more interactions between them pls?)
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are we doing the dare scene right now or nah? "Cya," She called,picking up her phone and hopping on her bed,texting some friends.
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