[align=center][fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 421px; padding: 0px;][hr][fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 420px; padding: 0px; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-top: 4px;][fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 98px; height: 100px; padding: 0; float: left; margin-bottom: -8px;][fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 90px; height: 90px; padding: 0; float: left; background:url(http://68.media.tumblr.com/a46…o4pal3NI8c1tvbhwc_500.gif); margin-top: 3px;][/fancypost][/fancypost]
[justify][size=8]September was here, and slowly, agonizingly, Ezra Beckett's favorite season was coming to a close.
Summer was what he lived for. He loved the sun, and lazing outside for hours just taking naps, or going for walks outside just to find someplace to sit and read for a few hours. He was a quiet and bookish creature during the summer unlike the rest of the adolescent populace, that seemed to enjoy summer parties and lakes and the like far more. He couldn't say from personal experience... much to his embarrassment, he'd never actually attended a public high school before.
So that was why this morning had his nerves wracked as he got ready to go to school, entirely unsure of what to really expect. He'd obviously seen a lot from movies and the like, and books, but this was the actual experience. After years of being essentially homeschooled he probably wasn't going to be ready for any of it. He'd heard that homeschooled kids were often the weirdest when they transferred into public schools and Ezra was sending up a silent prayer to whatever spiritual force existed to have mercy on his poor, naive, young soul that he wouldn't make a complete fool of himself today.
And the thing was, that if everything he knew hadn't changed a couple months ago, he probably wouldn't be here at all. He'd grown up in New York, the Upper East Side, son of a senator and a doctor and if he liked, he probably wouldn't have to legitimately work a single day in his life. His parents had sat him on a piano bench at about age four and since then he'd been playing, the plan all along for him to be a professional pianist... until he learned that it was literally all a lie. He wasn't their son - he'd been adopted, seventeen and a half years ago, from a woman that hailed from a tiny town in Washington that just couldn't afford to keep up with her own life along with that of a potential child's. And the Becketts were infertile, or so Ezra assumed, because they'd taken him in no question, no word breathed that he was anything less than their son.
When he'd found the birth certificate however, the truth had come out and within a month Ezra had proposed a different plan, based mostly on the fact it felt wrong to be in his own home any longer. He'd never felt loved by them, he had little sense of attachment, it had been startlingly easy to get into contact with his birth mother, and determine that he would be finishing out his education in her hometown and get to know her, and only then would he figure out what he really wanted to do with his life. He loved piano but by god, he really didn't feel like being their prized horse to show off if that's all that they'd intended for him, he wanted to feel like he mattered.
And now he was here. He'd already spent a month living with Emery Heart, and it had been... interesting to say the least. She still wasn't very well off and refused to accept the money he brought from his parents out of pride, but he'd stubbornly budged his way into paying for groceries and simple things at least, and getting himself a used car to drive to school with.
Ezra descended the stairs, finding Emery at the bottom with an amused sort of half-smile drawing at her lips as she offered him his bag. "That's the most maternal thing you've done this entire month," he commented, taking it and hooking it over his shoulder. "How do I look? Acceptably like a small town high school student?"
"I don't know..." She furrowed her dark brows. "Most of the kids around here still wear that silly Hollister type stuff. I don't even want to know how much that sweater costs."
"You're saying I look like a rich boy."
"I'm saying... you look like..."
"A rich boy," he finished with a snort, having given her ample time to find a decent answer, so he did it himself. "That's okay, I can live with that. I'll make up for it with my awkwardness. Scare everyone off."
"Right. You can't have a sugar baby too early."
"Precisely." Grinning, the eighteen-year-old stepped out the door. "I'll catch you later."
She nodded, a smile spreading across her face, exactly the smile he had. They really did look startlingly alike; they had the same colorings, naturally rich tan skin, curly caramel hair, coffee brown eyes. All the features he'd been subconsciously looking for in his parents, were found in Emery and it was sort of a relief to find it.
But enough of lingering, he'd done enough of it over the last summer month. Climbing into his car, Ezra started it up, pulling out of the drive and toward the school. And here goes nothing.
OOC: Look at that I wrote a novel too hahhh. That was more of an intro post, also if you want me to change the fc I can, I know Theo is older but I use him for younger characters a lot because idek I have zero self control haha.
EDIT: OMG, just re-read your first post haha, i noticed you specified local boy. If you want me to change Ezra's backstory at all, I deffo can. x3
[/fancypost][hr][/fancypost]
