HOT BLOODED * OPEN

[slightly]

FEEL THE FEVER BURNING INSIDE OF ME ,

Edward fingered his clarinet quietly as he sat on one of the swings of the playground at Sherwood park, just enjoying the cool breeze and otherwise not doing anything else but thinking and twirling said clarinet between his fingers. He wasn't usually not big on pondering life and love and everything in between, but after a fight with his parents- his father in particular, he usually ran off to be by himself, which might have seemed rather strange for the young man, who normally hated to be alone, but the last thing he wanted to do after a fight was lose his temper with someone while he was already steaming. It usually didn't take all that long for him to cool off, depending on how angry he was in the first place. At the moment, he was pretty much calmed down.

Music usually helped, which was why Ed had grabbed his clarinet, but he hadn't actually played it yet, he just sat there staring at it, his fingers twitching as they held it, instead. It had been a good five minutes since he'd sat on the bench and looked at it before he finally put it up to his lips and began to play a lively tune. Ed had taught himself to play both clarinet and the guitar when he was younger, and he had had a few lessons, but he always hated teachers of all kinds and had skipped until his parents canceled said lessons. This only went on to prove two things: Edward Whiteley was not a good student, but he could learn well if he would apply himself, which he never did except in music and select few extracurricular activities.

Edward tapped his foot along to the beat as his own jazz playing clarinet music began to sweep him away and help him forget everything that had sucked today, for at least the time being. Other than his music, the small playground was quiet, Edward being the only person who was actually there, which was nice, because he often argued with the little kids about whether who's turn it was on the swing set and got in trouble with their parents. Edward really did not like to share, and he could be very childish and stubborn at times.

He stood up off his seat on the swing and twirled on his heel, confident that he didn't look too stupid in case anyone was around and watching him rock out to the jazz music emitting from his own clarinet.

HEY HEY HEY, THIS IS TAGGED FOR ANYONE, WITH THE WORD COUNT JUST AT FOUR HUNDRED TWENTY ONE AND THE LYRIC CREDIT TO HOT BLOODED BY FOREIGNER. I'D ALSO JUST LIKE TO SAY SOO THIS SUCKS. xD

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[PETER DIMITRI FEDEROV]

* fly away on my zephyr ,

The park was usually very quiet on a morning like this. The children were all off doing whatever it was they liked to do on a Tuesday which left the older people by themselves, doing whatever it was they liked to do on a Tuesday. However, on this one morning there was something not very quiet going on at Sherwood Park. Jazz music was emanating from the large park; a sweet tune which anyone with any musical knowledge could tell required plenty of skill. So whoever was playing it had skill and talent. It was a nice sound to hear, a change from the dead silence that often crept up on you. It was upbeat and instantly raised one’s spirits. There was one boy however who still remained deadly serious, and hardly moved. Though it did seem this way, he simply had a great poker face. Being a guitarist and singer he knew what good music sounded like and this was it. The dark haired boy – or man rather – carried a guitar across his back, giving off the perfect ‘cool guy’ vibe.

Walking up to the bench that the music was coming from, he noticed a boy with a clarinet. This boy was probably a year or two younger than himself and his fingers where flying over the notes and finger holes. Clarinets were one instrument that Dimitri had never really understood very well. They were wind instruments which just meant that they were different and strange. Dimitri had always been a guitarist and had worked in various pubs and cafes playing music for everyone as they ate and drank and talked. He had received many generous tips over the years, ever since he was eighteen and had left home. He loved music and loved the feeling it gave him. He was simply able to escape into it, a feeling that nothing else could give him.

The man slide onto the bench beside the dark blonde haired male. Swinging his guitar over his shoulder and onto his lap he pulled a pic out from his back pocket. Listening for a few bars he tried to pick up on the tune and the rhythm. It wasn’t too difficult to do as Dimitri had perfect pitch and was quite talented at improvisation. He quickly picked up on the chord progressions the jazz piece was using and started to add them in. Strumming the chords lightly he added his own style to it. “You’re pretty good,” he mumbled, managing to speak and play at the same time without screwing up either task. His body swayed to the beat of the music, a nice tune. Until then, he had never noticed just how well guitars and clarinets could work together.

_{THIS POST IS TAGGED ESPECIALLY FOR EDWARD AND IT CONTAINS FOUR HUNDRED AND FIFTY-SIX WORDS. THE LYRICS ARE FOUND IN THE ZEPHYR SONG BY RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS. I'D ALSO LIKE TO ADD MY FIRST IC POST.}

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[slightly]

FEEL THE FEVER BURNING INSIDE OF ME ,

Edward was really enjoying himself and his music and barely even noticed when another young man appeared by him with a guitar, but he didn't even stop playing, because the other guy didn't seem to mind Ed's playing and so he really didn't see a reason to stop if the both of them were enjoying themselves. Then the other man who looked to be a few years older than Ed, swung his guitar around and began to play along with him, making Edward grin through his clarinet playing.

He was good, Edward had to give him that, he was obviously quite talented with his guitar. Edward could play guitar himself, but he wasn't nearly as good with it as he was with his clarinet, which came easier to him than anything else ever had. Then the other dude complimented Edward's clarinet playing. Edward loved compliments, because it just fed to his already huge ego, and he would have responded to it had his mouth not been otherwise occupied with said musical instrument. So instead he just grinned and nodded as his reply.

The two instruments playing improv together was 'pretty frickin' awesome' if you would have asked Edward. He was still tapping his feet along to the rythym, bobbing his head as well. He tended to really get into his music a lot, and he was twitchy as it was, so staying still even though his fingers were flying, was still quite out of the question. Eventually, however, he ended the his end of the song and brought the clarinet down, in a considerably better mood than he had began playing in.

"'Ey, you're pretty good yourself." Edward finally was able to say as he grinned over at his current companion, motioning towards the guitar. "Where'd ya learn to play like that?" He asked curiously, bringing his eyebrows together as he waited for a response. "Oh, I'm Whiteley, by the way. Edward Whiteley. But, I usually just go by Whiteley or Ed," Edward introduced himself, blabbing on about himself, as usual as he continued to stare at the guitar instead of the man himself, his leg bouncing up and down unintentionally.

Edward liked to talk. He did not know exactly why this was or why it got worse when he was tired or when he had a lot of sugar that day, but he really liked to talk. Especially about himself, because he had a lot to say about himself and also how amazing he was even though that tended to make people not want to talk to him quite often which he didn't particularly understand because, come on now, he was awesome, at least in his own eyes anyway.

The irony about it all was that he personally hated it when other people blabbered on about themselves and made the conversation all about them. That was his job, after all.

HEY HEY HEY, THIS IS TAGGED FOR DIMITRI, WITH THE WORD COUNT JUST AT FOUR HUNDRED EIGHTY ONE AND THE LYRIC CREDIT TO HOT BLOODED BY FOREIGNER. I'D ALSO JUST LIKE TO SAY SORRY THIS TOOK AWHILE!

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[PETER DIMITRI FEDEROV]

* i'm sorry that i'm not like you ,

The two instruments ringing out through the park sounded brilliant, considering the fact that they were both improvising. This young man was talented on the clarinet and talented in music on the whole. It was clear that he was really into the music as he was saying and bobbing his head to it. It was great just being able to jam with this total stranger. And he had not stopped at Dimitri’s approach. It relaxed him slightly and made him feel more comfortable around this boy. He had not played with someone else in so long. It was great to be able to do this. The music was great too. There were a few people around the park that were watching them but none dared to disturb them. One man came quite close, obviously trying to see if there was a hat or something to place money in. But they weren’t busking, they were just having fun.

The clarinettist stopped and Dimitri strummed a few extra chords as a sort of coda and then brought the whole piece to a complete stop. Turning to the boy he flashed a smile. “Haha, thanks,” he replied, becoming slightly self-conscious at the attention. He did not like being put in the spotlight one bit. Maybe it was because of all the court cases he had been to. The judges always questioned him, putting him on the spot and he simply could not deal with all the dead stares of the people in the room. He hated courtrooms almost as much as he hated his parents. After all, it was their fault that he had been in the courtrooms. If people said divorces were messy, they had no idea.

The blonde haired boy asked something else and Dimitri grinned again. “Nowhere. Just taught myself one day. Life gets rather boring sometimes and it was a distraction.” It was true; he had never really had any lessons. All he had had to work by was an old guitar and a ten year old ‘Learn to Play’ book. Then the boy said his name. Edward Whiteley. Not an altogether strange name for someone living in Fantasia. It kind of had a ring to it. “Great to meet you Ed. I’m Dimitri Federov.” Dimitri wondered whether he had noticed the Russian accent that always came through. However he was distracted as he say Ed’s eyes gravitate towards the guitar and he seemed kind of anxious, due to the fact that his leg was bouncing up and down a bit.

Taking the neck strap off he looked at Ed. “You play?” he asked, holding the guitar in his direction. He wondered if Whiteley was just as talented on guitar as he was on clarinet. He seemed very musical and it was possible. Still, he wanted to be one hundred per cent sure. Smiling at Ed he waited for the boy to either take the guitar or leave it. He had never met anyone who was quite as good on guitar as him, or at least who was good at blending two sounds. For some reason, he was having a very musical day, and it was just about to get a whole lot better.

_{THIS POST IS TAGGED ESPECIALLY FOR ED AND IT CONTAINS FIVE HUNDRED THIRTY FIVE WORDS. THE LYRICS ARE FOUND IN PURE NARCOTIC BY PORCUPINE TREE. I'D ALSO LIKE TO ADD YAY FOR MUSICALLY TALENTED PEOPLE.}

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[slightly]

FEEL THE FEVER BURNING INSIDE OF ME ,

Edward wasn't really used to playing music with anyone else, he was usually a one man show, but honestly, this was kind of a nice change for once. Sure, Edward was extremely self absorbed but this guy was really good. And he seemed pretty friendly, sorta. He had a funny accent, though. Edward couldn't say he didn't like to pry, because it would be a complete lie, he loved to pry, so first he nodded in agreement to the other boy's statement and then after he introduced himself, Ed looked up from the guitar for a second to ask bluntly, "Where are you from?"

Ed himself was born in England, but he had lost his accent since he had only lived there five years and he'd lived in Fantasia with his adoptive parents for fourteen, and the accent had left years ago. "Oh, nice to meet you, too," He then added quickly as an afterthought in case he sounded any ruder than usual, though hopefully not, he got into way too much trouble as it was with being rude even though honestly he really didn't mean to, it just popped out, and he was just a naturally curious guy, truly.

Then Dimitri took the guitar strap from behind his head and handed it out to Edward, asking if he played. Edward grinned. "Yeah, a little." He said oh-so-very-modestly. He took the guitar from his new companion and immediately started off into Ain't No Rest For The Wicked by Cage the Elephant, his feet still tapping incessantly. Edward could not sing, or at least, when he did, people no longer decided to stick around and enjoy his music, so in public he didn't even try, no matter how catchy something was. So instead he just made noise in any other sort of way he could which was still really annoying to most but less obnoxious than his actual singing voice.

Edward had been surprised when Dimitri had handed out his guitar to him, most people he met weren't all that trustful about him, especially if they knew him, seeing as he wasn't the most careful or thoughtful guy out there, after all. But Ed had a special sort of rule for musical instruments, he didn't know why, but he tended to hold them in higher regard than most other things, he was usually really careful with guitars and his clarinet and things like that, they just seemed very precious to him. Most people didn't really get that, which he could understand, it didn't even make all that much sense to him, but, then again, not that much made sense to him, and he didn't dwell on it.

HEY HEY HEY, THIS IS TAGGED FOR DIMITRI, WITH THE WORD COUNT JUST AT FOUR HUNDRED FORTY SIX AND THE LYRIC CREDIT TO HOT BLOODED BY FOREIGNER. I'D ALSO JUST LIKE TO SAY SO SORRY THIS SUCKS/TOOK SO LONG D:

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[PETER DIMITRI FEDEROV]

* sometimes it's heaven sent ,

Smiling at the younger boy he wondered what had brought him out to the park. Obviously he did not have any college lessons or he would certainly be there. Unless of course he was one of those kids that grabbed notes of other people and disappeared whenever there were lectures on. Listening to the question he wondered if it was not as obvious as it had been previously as to where he was from. Perhaps Fantasia City was slowly making away with his Russian accent. Giving his crooked half smile he muttered, “Russia actually,” in reply and then turned his gaze back to the guitar that was now in the boy’s hands. He wondered if Ed knew any good songs and if so, which songs they were. Looking at the way the boy held the guitar, it displayed to him that he was good, but not as good as him of course. Dimitri was one of the best, not to toot his own horn or anything. He had been playing for as long as he could remember and although he had not really had any lessons he had taken to it like a fish to water.

The chords came out easily and Dimitri instantly recognised the song. It was Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked, a song that he knew very well. Smiling he began to sing the familiar words that he knew so well. He had often sung to this song and knew both the chords and the words by heart. His deep voice sang along to the familiar tune and he grinned over at Edward. This was fun. Two nearly complete strangers simply bonding over their love for music. It was a rare occurrence and one that he was certainly grateful for. One simply did not find someone else with such a grand passion for music any more. It was sad that there were not as many people who wanted to pursue music in the world anymore but it was something that you just had to put up with. Dimitri had learnt to seize every moment like this that was passed over to him.

They sang and played on for the next few minutes, until the end of the song. Once it was over, Dimitri swayed slowly as he let Ed play the outro. It was a great piece of music, and sounded great in the park too. He noticed many people had been watching them but he simply ignored them all. He did not want all the popularity that many pop stars received. He simply wanted to show people how great music was and how much he adored it. It was a beautiful gift that they had been giving. It created the mood for so many settings. It was amazing, music and Dimitri was certain that the whole human race would be completely different if they had never discovered it. For one he and Ed would not be sitting in the park together and they certainly would not even have acknowledged the existence of the other person. So really, music brought people together. Looking over at Ed he smiled again. “That was brilliant.”

_{W O R D S 526
T A G edward
C L O T H E S click
L Y R I C S ordinary people by asher book
N O T E S sorry for the wait}

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