Alexander Donovan Hardy
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer."
Turning from the group, Alexander said over his shoulder, "Hey, see you guys at seven!" Then he hopped into an elevator, pushing the button to the top floor. Bouncing on his the balls of his feet, he excitedly waited for the elevator to get to the top floor, it took a while. The door finally opening, Alex hopped out. Looking at a little sign on the wall, Alexander turned to the right, going to number 7. A grin on his face, he stuck the key in the lock, and then pushed the door open. "Wow," he said under his breath. The room was huge, beautiful. Walking into the bedroom, Alex dropped his bags at the foot of his bed, then walked into the bathroom, with a jacuzzi. Pulling his shirt off, Alex tossed it on the floor, figuring he could pick up later. Turning the faucet on as cold as it could go, Alex cupped his hands under the water, then splashed his face. Gasping as the chilly water hit his face, he shook his head sending water all over. Grabbing the hand towel hanging next to the sink, he dried his face off. Hanging the towel back up, Alex ran his hands through his hair, turning towards the bedroom. Stretching on his stomach onto the bed, Alex closed his eyes, deciding to relax for a while before he'd go explore.
Just laying there felt so good, finally able to completely relax. The plane seats were horrible and the buses weren't much better, so Alex had gotten very little sleep. As Alex slowly started drifting off, he began dreaming of his life back home. His little apartment with his sparse amount of furniture, his life completely alone, even his piece of crap car. Then the dream slowly switched to his old life, when he was taking care of his mother. Them barely getting by sometimes. The hopeless look in his mothers eyes, how it devastated him that he couldn't help her. The day she finally passed on. How Alex put a hole in the wall of the apartment, breaking a coupe of knuckles and tearing up his hand. Again the dream changed, this time to when he still had both parents. His father singing at the top of his voice while he cooked at home. The restaurant always packed full of people. His mothers smile and his fathers boom of a laugh. Then the night of the crash, rushing to the hospital to find there was nothing they could have done for his father, and how his mother would never walk again. The devastation Alex felt that night was like nothing he's ever felt. That night he broke both hands, and even tore up his arms. He left very big holes in his bedroom walls. The dream finally faded away, and Alex slowly woke up. Rolling over onto his back Alex sat up, pulling his knees up to his chest, he propped his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. Staring blankly across the room, Alex didn't want to think about his dreams, but they kept coming back. Shaking his head, he looked at his hands, the little crisscross scars all over his knuckles and hand, traveling up his arms, showing white against his tan skin.
Shaking his head again, Alex got off the bed, deciding he'd have to go do something. Opening on of his bags, he pulled
out a long sleeve gray shirt, pulling it over his head, he walked over to the window and looked out to see how the weather was. Rainy and cold. So Alex dug around in his bag some more, finally finding his long coat. Grabbing his key, and pocketing his mp3, Alex walked out the door and headed for the elevator. As the door to the elevator opened up, Alex stepped out, his ear-buds in, listening to Chopin again. Grand Valse Brilliante in E flat major, Op. 18. Beautiful piece. Concentrating on his music, he didn't notice the huge puddles of water until he stepped in one. Looking up quickly, he saw the the source of the puddle. The b*****d of a man who seemed obsessed with Ellie. He was soaking wet, and hugging a girl, Alex paused a moment. She was pretty, she looked almost distraught. And for some reason, he wanted to get James away from her, she seemed to know him, but Alex didn't like James, he was a cruel, narcissistic man. Who seemed to just use, then throw away, women. Grumbling to himself, Alexander turned away, heading for the exit. He decided he would not get into anyone's business.
"Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away."
Turning from the group, Alexander said over his shoulder, "Hey, see you guys at seven!" Then he hopped into an elevator, pushing the button to the top floor. Bouncing on his the balls of his feet, he excitedly waited for the elevator to get to the top floor, it took a while. The door finally opening, Alex hopped out. Looking at a little sign on the wall, Alexander turned to the right, going to number 7. A grin on his face, he stuck the key in the lock, and then pushed the door open. "Wow," he said under his breath. The room was huge, beautiful. Walking into the bedroom, Alex dropped his bags at the foot of his bed, then walked into the bathroom, with a jacuzzi. Pulling his shirt off, Alex tossed it on the floor, figuring he could pick up later. Turning the faucet on as cold as it could go, Alex cupped his hands under the water, then splashed his face. Gasping as the chilly water hit his face, he shook his head sending water all over. Grabbing the hand towel hanging next to the sink, he dried his face off. Hanging the towel back up, Alex ran his hands through his hair, turning towards the bedroom. Stretching on his stomach onto the bed, Alex closed his eyes, deciding to relax for a while before he'd go explore.
Just laying there felt so good, finally able to completely relax. The plane seats were horrible and the buses weren't much better, so Alex had gotten very little sleep. As Alex slowly started drifting off, he began dreaming of his life back home. His little apartment with his sparse amount of furniture, his life completely alone, even his piece of crap car. Then the dream slowly switched to his old life, when he was taking care of his mother. Them barely getting by sometimes. The hopeless look in his mothers eyes, how it devastated him that he couldn't help her. The day she finally passed on. How Alex put a hole in the wall of the apartment, breaking a coupe of knuckles and tearing up his hand. Again the dream changed, this time to when he still had both parents. His father singing at the top of his voice while he cooked at home. The restaurant always packed full of people. His mothers smile and his fathers boom of a laugh. Then the night of the crash, rushing to the hospital to find there was nothing they could have done for his father, and how his mother would never walk again. The devastation Alex felt that night was like nothing he's ever felt. That night he broke both hands, and even tore up his arms. He left very big holes in his bedroom walls. The dream finally faded away, and Alex slowly woke up. Rolling over onto his back Alex sat up, pulling his knees up to his chest, he propped his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. Staring blankly across the room, Alex didn't want to think about his dreams, but they kept coming back. Shaking his head, he looked at his hands, the little crisscross scars all over his knuckles and hand, traveling up his arms, showing white against his tan skin.
Shaking his head again, Alex got off the bed, deciding he'd have to go do something. Opening on of his bags, he pulled
out a long sleeve gray shirt, pulling it over his head, he walked over to the window and looked out to see how the weather was. Rainy and cold. So Alex dug around in his bag some more, finally finding his long coat. Grabbing his key, and pocketing his mp3, Alex walked out the door and headed for the elevator. As the door to the elevator opened up, Alex stepped out, his ear-buds in, listening to Chopin again. Grand Valse Brilliante in E flat major, Op. 18. Beautiful piece. Concentrating on his music, he didn't notice the huge puddles of water until he stepped in one. Looking up quickly, he saw the the source of the puddle. The b*****d of a man who seemed obsessed with Ellie. He was soaking wet, and hugging a girl, Alex paused a moment. She was pretty, she looked almost distraught. And for some reason, he wanted to get James away from her, she seemed to know him, but Alex didn't like James, he was a cruel, narcissistic man. Who seemed to just use, then throw away, women. Grumbling to himself, Alexander turned away, heading for the exit. He decided he would not get into anyone's business.
"Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away."
