art is dead || open

[Bo St. John]

i am an artist, please god forgive me
i am an artist, please don't revere me
i am an artist, please don't respect me

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Sitting at the piano on the stage, a kid idly played a few chords, his eyes looving over the ivory and ebony keys. After a moment, he ran his fingers over them, his expression almost longing. Pausing, he then turned to a notebook that sat next to him on the piano bench and scribbled a few notes on a staff and a message to himself on how to sing and play it. Turning back to the piano, he began from the beginning of what he had played, his fingers moving across the keys in a lovely dance as music filled the auditorium.

Eyes closed, he then moved into Pachelbel's Cannon in D Major, his brow furrwed in concentration. The classical song began slowly, though then flooded in a large river of notes and music. Shoulders hunched as he played, the brunette finally pulled awya, eyes wide as he stared at the piano. "Now... what to play...?" Bo asked himself, now idly playing Für Elise, his eyes wandering about the empty room, though they were blind to the surroundings.

i am an artist, feel free to correct me
a self-centered artist, self-obsessed artist
i am an artist, i am an artist

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Spencer O'Connor]

Obviously, Glee clubbers were going to have to use this auditorium, too. Truth be told, they probably used it more than the theatre kids did. However, it didn't mean that they owned it, contrary to popular belief. So, when Spencer was backstage putting props in their proper place and making everything more convenient for the play they had been rehearsing and then heard a sudden piano, it tended to burn his biscuits.

Spencer never once said anything about it, though. After all it really was not his place. Plus, he probably shouldn't get mad about it in the first place. Though, this sophomore is fierce. Give him crap? He'll throw it back at you with ten times the force. He was a bit harsh sometimes, but that wasn't his fault. Society basically said live or die it's your choice. Like in those Saw movies. So, Spencer chose to demolish the other person in order to gain his life, or in this case, dignity.

Long story short? He doesn't really like to be walked on. So he's gotten a bit sassy. Biting his lip and swallowing his pride, Spencer continued what he did best. He was assistant stage manager and had a nice role in this play. Looking and doing his best was always at the top of his to-do list. He crossed behind the stage to get to the other wing and accidentally stumbled over a hanger someone had left on the ground, leading on a huge rustling noise. Spencer frowned. He didn't want to be noticed right now.

[Bo St. John]

Jumping slightly, Bo looked up, his eyes wide. Leaving the piano bench, he quickly searched for the source of the sound, his cheeks bright red. "H-hello...?" He asked cautiously, looking through the curtains. After a moment, he saw the boy on the ground, frowning. "Oh... er... did I startle you, or something?" He asked softly, a hand outstretched for him to take; he was being kind, and wanted to help him up.

"I didn't mean to, obviously... I just needed time to think. And this place is the only place I thought I could be alone--I was wrong, obviously... like always." Sighing, the teen turned away a moment, his head hung as he frowned. "Sorry for bothering you..."

[Spencer O'Connor]

Spencer felt really bad when he knew he shouldn't. The theatre was a safe haven for more people than just him. He shouldn't have been thinking so selfishly. "You didn't startle me.. much," Spen took his hand and got up, a little sketchy because nice people were hard to find these days, but he didn't feel the need to judge, "thanks." Spencer brushed himself off and looked back up at the kid that stood before him. Why didn't he know this guy?

"I didn't mean to disturb your.. false solitude," Spencer admitted politely as he bent down to get the hanger to put it up so no one went the same route as he did, "I can leave if you want. I mean... I'm almost done anyway." Bothering? Him? Someone bothering Spencer? Okay, maybe it wasn't such a foreign thing to assume, but this one wasn't bothering him in the least... anymore. "You weren't bothering me, I promise. I'm just clumsy." Spencer offered a small smile of reassurance as he walked the rest of the way to the wing and picked up around there a little bit.

[Bo St. John]

"Oh. Well, sorry anyways." Bo blushed, still looking at his feet, scuffing his toe on the ground. Looking over at the sophomore, frowning, he shook his head, following after him.

"No... you don't have to go. I'd actually like to have your opinion on something I wrote." He smiled meekly before closing his mouh. "I'm Bo, by the way... Bo St. John." Sticking his hand out, he gave a weak smile, waiting for him to shake it. "Why haven't I seen you around...? You can;t be a junior..."

[Spencer O'Connor]

Spencer continued attempting to straighten things up around there. He placed props where they'd be most convenient to grab when actors came back to the wings and such. He also even organized them by... well, convenience. It was part of his reputation, really. It wasn't weird to think Spen was going to do something to make your life a lot easier for you.

Glancing at Bo from time to time, Spen eventually finished and went over to him. He shook his hand, his grip firm, and smiled back at him, "I'm a sophomore. Most people say I look like a ninth grader because I'm so small." Spencer laughed and crossed his arms, "So what is it you wrote? I wouldn't mind handing over my opinion."

He walked out onto the stage and sat on the edge nearest the piano. Piano was his favorite instrument. It was very beautiful, in more ways than one. So it didn't bother him at all to listen to Bo play. Plus, this kid was pretty cute.

[Bo St. John]

Bo was surprised at the firm handshake. Taking his hand back, he smiled, nodding. "Nah... you look like a sophomore to me." Smirking, he went to the piano bench, cracking his knuckles. "Thanks..." The tall teen placed his hands on the keys, then looked back over at the younger teen. "It's a piece of music... the lyrics aren't ready, but I've gotten all the music ready."

Looking quite bright, though somewhat apprehensive of what he was about to do; he was about to show something he kept under wraps until a show to someone that he had just met. "Er... before I start, what's your name? I didn't quite catch it when I introduced myself." Looking over at the boy's back, he smiled somewhat weakly, though he waited before playing any notes.

[Spencer O'Connor]

Well that was certainly something Spen didn't hear every day. 'You look like a sophomore to me.' It was relieving in a way. He was such a tiny person that people always guessed wrong at his age. Pulling down the sleeves to his sweater, he turned to look at Bo, nodding slightly at everything he said about the music.

Name, ah, Spencer knew he'd forgotten to say something. "Sorry," he laughed slightly at his own fault, "my name's Spencer." He smiled back, but this time his smile actually looked genuine. Had he just made a new friend? Sweet. He kicked his legs back and forth, since they were hanging off the stage and looked at Bo, waiting for him to play.

[Bo St. John]

Bo smile, nodding. "Spencer... nice name," he grinned back, though looked back at the keys apprehensively. "I'll be a second, if you don't mind. I have to get into the 'Music Mood', as I call it." Chuckling at himself, he began to play Mozart's Turkish March, humming to himself.

Once he payed through the whole song, he then straightened his back, though he slouched right afterwards. Cracking his knuckles once more, he then began to play a few chords, smiling to himself. After a small intro, he began to sing softly: "Art is dead, art is dead. Art is dead, art is dead." Looking over at Spencer, he smiled meekly. "I'm a musical comedian... I make songs that make people laugh..."

[Spencer O'Connor]

Don't blush, don't blush! Spencer was basically trying as hard as he could not to. He was such a hopeless romantic that this was actually pretty hard for him. You know, sitting here with a cute guy that is musically talented and sweet from what you could tell right in front of you. Luckily, Spencer was a strong kid. He was used to falling for straight guys or whatever this case may be. Nevertheless, Spencer smiled and nodded as he waited for Bo to get in the 'music mood.'

A musical comedian? Was there such a thing? Obviously there was, or Bo wouldn't label himself as such. Spen smirked and tilted his head slightly to the side, "So art's death is supposed to be comical?" Just teasing, of course. He was trying to add some comic relief as well to this situation. He could feel an awkward tension... aka an elephant, in the room.

[Bo St. John]

"Well, you see, the rest of the song would then start to talk about difficult entertainers, like this: 'Entertainers like to seem complicated, but we're not complicated. I can explain it pretty easily: have you ever been to a birthday arty for children, where one of the children won't stop screaming, 'cause he's just a little attention attractor. Wen he grows up to be a comic or actor, he'll be rewarded for never maturing, for never understanding or learning that everyday can't be about him, there's other people, you selfish asshole--" Pausing, he glanced over at the other, panting from the sudden muse he got in the lyrics. "I... er, sorry... I get spurts of inspiration at random times. Let me write all that down." Bo quickly turned to his note book and jotted down the words, murmuring them to himself before turning back to the piano.

"I must be psychotic, I must be demented. To think that I'm worthy of all this attention, of all this money you worked really hard for. I slept in late, while you worked at the drugstore. My drugs attention, I am an addict, but I get paid to indulge in my habit. It's all an illusion: I'm wearing make up, I'm wearing make up, make up, make up..." Continuing to pause and write down the words, the comedian glanced back at Spencer, smiling meekly. "Sorry for the interruptions..."

He then started again: "Art is dead. Some people think you're funny, how did ya get those peoples' money? I said, art is dead. We're rollin' in dough while Carlin rolls in his grave, in his grave, his grave. This show has got a budget, the show has got a budget; and all the people way more deserving of the money won't budge it. 'Cause I wanted my name in lights, when I could've fed a family of four for forty freaking fortnights, forty freaking fortnights!"

Panting again, Bo looked at the keys for a moment, then ferociously wrote down the words, running a hand over his sweating forehead. "I'm gonna have a show soon, that's why it says that... but it's entirely untrue, I assure you," he smiled over at Spencer, his face red from the heat of the moment in the song. Now, back to the song: "I am an artist, please God, forgive me. I am an artist, please don't revere me. I am an artist, please don't respect me. I am an artist, feel free to correct me. A self-centered artist, a self obsessed artist; I am an artist, I am an artist. But I'm just a kid, I'm just a kid, and maybe I'll grow out of it."

At the last chord of the song, he finished writing down the lyrics, then took a moment to catch his breath. Eyes closed, he sighed, then glanced at Spencer. "I... er... that's it." He smiled, still slightly out of breath. Bo looked a little disheveled, though nonetheless awkwardly handsome. "I... did you like it...?

[ ooc- that's bo burnham's song art is dead xD i took bo burnham and just made him into bo st. john, cause i love bo... yea lol x3 ]

[Spencer O'Connor]

Spencer was smiling through the whole song. He did catch the jokes within the song, and tried to contain his laughs so that he wouldn't interrupt Bo's creative flow. He liked the way that he was getting all into it. It showed a great amount of character. Spen was weird like that. His perspective was different than others'. He saw the person within, though usually if you were also pretty on the outside it was a plus. Within the song was also a lot of truth, though.

He nodded and smiled, "I did actually. A lot. It was really good..." Spencer looked down, pursed his lips a little, then glanced back up, "So that all just came to you? Like, right then? That's pretty impressive, you know." Really, Spen thought Bo deserved some praise for all that. It was freaking awesome to him. He knew there weren't a lot of people who appreciated aspiring entertainers like Bo, so whenever he encountered someone like that, he liked to deliver compliments where they were earned. And even if Bo did get a bunch of praise for what he did, at least Spencer wasn't lying.

OOC: I just listened to that before logging on and replying to this! Holy crap. P: Bo's adorable. Even Spencer thinks so. xD

[Bo St. John]

"W-well... I've had ideas of what I wanted to say in the song for a while, but pretty much, yea." Flustered, Bo now began to play a few arpeggios, idly touching his face; seems he was a little uncomfortable. "Th-thanks," he smiled up to Spencer, then back at the keys, his smile brightening his already blushed-painted face.

"I... I've been writing songs since I was, like, five... but they usually were about cake or soda or something that I liked back then... I think I wrote one about boogers." Laughing, Bo stood up and went to the edge of the stage, sitting next to Spencer with a smile. "Thanks for listening to that... I... well, I'm not really confident about my music, but I keep hearing that it's really good." Shrugging, he looked up at the ceiling, his blush receding.

"If you'd like, I can give you a CD... My friend has a in-home recording studio, and he let me burn a few CDs." Smiling, he looked back over at the sophomore, his head cocked to the side, his eyes bright. Seems he was interested in his new friend!

[ ooc- yea, he's sooooooo cute. i say to my friends that i'm gonna marry him one day! xD ]

[Spencer O'Connor]

Was he uncomfortable? Spencer could tell. He bit his lip. Had he said something.. wrong? Probably. It wasn't unlike Spencer to say something he hadn't really meant to. Wait! Bo was blushing! That's a first. Spencer couldn't help but grin as soon as he saw it though. Was he breaking ice? He really hoped so. He was tired of being so alone all the time anyway. Plus, even if this didn't go something along what Spencer wanted, he at least made a new friend.

Spencer laughed and shook his head, "I couldn't write a song to save my life." Aw, the poor guy wasn't confident about his music. Well, that left more room for compliments. "What you hear is true, I promise." Even though the blush was going away, it notably had existed... as long as Spen hadn't been imagining the whole thing. It didn't seem completely out of the blue to think up. After all, his gaydar was going off. It was at the halfway mark at 'hey, I think this guy likes both genders!' Homosexuals had that sort of gift.

He nodded, "I would love to have a CD. I could listen to it when I'm in a bad mood or something. Or just whenever." He shrugged casually and laughed. It was something Spencer did a lot, in fact. Laughing was his favorite. It was never a good thing to take life so seriously. So, he prevented that from happening. It was his permanent mindset, now. Spencer looked back over at his new friend and met his gaze, smiling a bit. Aww. Spencer thought, 'Be any cuter, I dare you.'

That wasn't possible, though, was it? Spencer hoped it wasn't. He'd spontaneously combust.

OOC: xDDD He's really entertaining and attractive, so he seems good enough to marry, ;D

[Bo St. John]

Bo smiled, nodding happily. "Thanks," he turned a soft pink, looking back at his knees with a small sigh. "I bet you could write a poem. It's not hard; you just have to put down either feelings or thoughts. It's similar to writing a poem." Shrugging, the junior rolled his shoulders before letting out a huff of a breath.

"Y-you would?!" Surprised, despite himself, Bo grew red once more. "I... I can give it to you tomorrow, if you'd like. Or you can have the one in my locker; I always bring it in from my car, dunno why though." The comedian smiled goofily, then ran a hand through his hair, looking out into the house of the auditorium. 'Thanks for listening to my song and complimenting on it... I... er..." Speechless. Spencer had made Bo speechless.