RHOADES, Scott James

[scott james rhoades]

* SCOTT J A M E S RHOADES ,

wasting away ( e i g h t e e n ) summers in the sun.
when the lights go off, watch the way i take the stage by storm.
( s c o t t y ), i see my name in the lights.
if only i had the heart for you.

* MAKE I T COUNT ,

I am sure that when you first look at me, you will be caught by my mesmerizing blue eyes. My eyes are somewhat darker than your average blue eyed people. They look like the color of the ocean with the clouds hanging overhead. My smile is what I like about myself. I think it compliments my masculine face. My teeth are straight and white. My hair is blonde, and usually spiked. My hair is short, though long enough to have it spiked. Make sense? No? I did not think so, but I am I like it that way. Well, if you have caught me without my shirt off, then please refrain from fainting. Haha. I am just kidding. I have a six pack, and I do like to be shirtless whenever I can. My arms are muscular, matching the six pack. I worked hard to get them. I am tall, about six feet and three inches. My weight is something I do not worry about often. Hell, most of it is muscle mass, and muscle weighs more than fat. I am far from fat, but I have found a happy medium. I am muscularly skinny. Capice?

S E N I O R

Oh! I can answer this easily. I am louder than all hell. You can never get me to shut up. I love to talk and socialize. I love to flirt. I am easy going, and laid back, though with my tendency of being loud, I am never soft spoken. I do not listen to orders, and I am horrible at arguing, but surprisingly I get my way at times. I am easy to talk to, and I am your go to guy if you need help with a problem. I give good advice, or so I have been told. Around certain people I can be your best friend, or I can be your best enemy. Hey, no one is ever liked by everyone. I take life in strides, and live everyday like it was my last. I am in love with life, and grateful to wake up everyday to keep living it. I have been told that I am mysterious, and can easily get anyone’s attention. I am determined, and if I want something bad enough, I will go for it. I will not have any regrets because it was everything I wanted at the time. I do not give up so easily. I will be stubborn, and go for whatever it is that I want. I am completely independent; though occasionally depend on family and friends for support. I love to laugh, and make other people laugh. It does not take much to get me to smile. I am easily pleased. The smallest things make me smile. I am a hopeless romantic, and I know how to treat a lady well. For all you guys out there, you do not treat your girl right, I will not think twice to smash your face in. Got it? Yeah, I have a little temperament. It is rare to see, but can emerge in certain situations. I am a happy person. People call me a sweetheart, and I have to agree. I cannot help it. I am a smooth talker, though I am loyal and honest. If I have a problem with you, you will be the first to know. I am over-protective about the people I care about. I am a lover, and not a fighter, but I will fight for what I love. I do not judge people by their cover. I accept people easily because I love the fact that no one person is exactly the same. And this is where I shut up.

H E T E R O S E X U A L

My interests? Well, let me think for a minute. I love to talk to anyone willing to listen. I like girls for their intelligence, and if they can carry on a conversation. (I cannot stand boring conversations.) I also like to drive with no place in mind. I like to get lost, and find my way home. I like to analyze situations, and think back on the past. I love to work out and box. I also love to take pictures of myself, and get my picture taken by others. (I am not conceited.) I like to think deeply; though do not confuse me... It might take a while for me to get unconfused. Haha. I love spending time with family. (Family means a lot to me.) That is all I can think of.. For now.

* GAMBLE W I T H DESIRE ,

I was born in Lawrence, Massachusetts. My house was a broken home. I never called that place home.. We lived in what I guess was the projects. The house was not so bad. It accommodated my family which consisted of my older brother, Matt, then me, and then my younger sister, Carmina. At least we had a house, so we could not really complain.. I always close with my siblings. Matt usually stuck around, despite the fact that he was two years older than me, and was able to drive. My younger sister and I were usually found together, talking and laughing. However, my father snapped sometime along this path. It all started with my parents yelling at one another almost every night. Carmina would cry, and beg them to stop. Matt would often drag us out of the house, and drive around for hours until he felt it was safe to return home.

Matt was a father to me for my own father treated us like the dirt he walked on. I learned many things from Matt that a son should learn from his father. Every time we got back home, our father’s car would be gone, and our mother would be sobbing hysterically. She would blame everything on herself, and I was there to console her whilst Matt and Carmina went off to bed. The fights spiraled out of control. My father would leave, and come back no longer sober, but drunker than all hell. He became an alcoholic, and would try to order us around. It never worked because we usually told him to fuck off. He got fired from his job because he went into the building smelling like liquor. He was a bastard, and I refused to call him “Dad.” I took to calling him Mike. Our mother was forced into taking up a job, and Matt was already balancing two jobs. Since the family needed him, he dropped out of high school. He then took up another job, and every pay check went into the bills and grocery.

I looked up greatly to Matt, and aspired to be just like him. I was only fourteen at the time. I had been sleeping when Mike came in piss drunk. Drunker than usual. A verbal fight ensued between my mother and him. Then I heard a loud smack. I stumbled out of bed, and saw Matt distracting Mike from attacking our mother. Carmina woke up, but I told her to stay in her bedroom. I stood next to Matt, screaming at Mike for a few minutes. I then turned to my mother’s fear stricken face. It broke my heart to see her no longer laughing and smiling, but to now see her face to look broken. I helped her up, and brought her into her bedroom. I guarded the door while Matt and Mike yelled at one another. Mike gave up, and walked down the stairs to walk to God knows where. At least he was gone. I told mom that Mike had gone, and she nodded and told me to go to bed. That, I realized, was only the beginning.

I had turned sixteen by now, watching my mom like a hawk whenever that drunken bastard was home. Matt did the same, making sure that both of us did not get hurt. I had been working out ever since the first night that Mike had hit my mother. So by now, I was pretty strong for my own age. When I had gone to bed that night, I felt something to be wrong. Mike came home drunk, and went straight for mom again. This time I heard a smack, and then a scream for help. I was up before Matt was, and ran down the stairs. I found Mike above my mother with a large chef’s knife. Without thinking, I pulled him back, and took the knife, ignoring the searing pain that had shot through my arm. Mike was sent backwards, and even I did not know my own strength.

Matt pinned Mike to the wall, threatening to call the police like he should have years ago. Carmina who was only fourteen, was luckily at a friend’s house for a sleep over. Mom had gotten fed up with being abused mentally and physically, and called the police herself. When the police came, they saw my hand, and realized I was still clutching the chef’s knife. Mom and Matt had explained what happened, and the EMTs had to pry the knife from my bloody hand. As they bandaged my hand up, I watched as Mike was handcuffed. I listened as the police read him his rights, and as he looked at me, I scowled at him. The police brought him up to me, and asked if I had anything to say to him. I remember saying; “Good bye you fucking bastard. I hope you have a good time rotting in hell.” I then spit in his face, and the police held me back as I threatened to kill him myself if he did not rot in prison.

Mom had found a guy who treated her like the world. Matt had moved out when he trusted him enough. That day killed me inside, but I knew I could visit him anytime I liked to. Call him even. Carmina was upset that he was leaving, but lightened up when he was only moving a few blocks down. Mom and her new husband decided to move to Lillyton, Maine, and Matt willingly moved with us as well. I am even happy to report that my father is going to serving time until he takes his last breath. That alone brings a smile to my face.

M I D D L E C L A S S

* TENSION L I K E FIRE ,

Maya

He stood on top of the roof of a four story building. The pastel colored skies clear behind him. Birds cooed into the air. The wind whipped around him, ruffling his black hair. He looked down toward the street, watching the cars go into rush hour. He closed his eye lids, allowing them to cover his dark green eyes. He breathed calmly, and he looked behind him. No one was there. Life had always been this way. No one would be next to him, nor would they be behind him. It was all the more reason to move on. As he opened his eyes, he debated on his next movements. Run and jump, or stand on the ridge and think of jumping, but jump anyway. He looked at New York, smoking a cigarette now. His hands shaking nervously it seemed.

Ray was his name. Everyone always called him a screw up, and tossed him aside. His mom had thrown in a trash can when he was only two months old. He was not supposed to be here today, but here he was. He was sick of life. He was sick of people snickering at his appearance and just sick of the same shit over and over again. However, in just a few moments, all of it would be gone, and he would no longer suffer. He peered over the edge again, seeing New York’s normal traffic grow thicker. I have to do this.. I can’t just drag it on. He thought to himself, and bit into his lower lip. He was not accepted here, so why just keep living?

Ray jumped onto the ridge of his apartment building. He had been living here ever since he could remember. Now, at the age of twenty-five, he wanted it to burn to the ground. He did not care much for tenants, but would more than likely warn them. He walked back and forth on the ridge, looking into the sky. The sun shone blindingly into his eyes, and he squinted before looking away. A few people walking on the sidewalk looked up, and were struck by fear. Hell, they should be used to people killing themselves here in New York. He watched an older woman take her cell phone out hurriedly. Soon, he heard the wail of sirens approach.

He scowled hatefully, and could barely make out the red and blue flashing lights. Ray paced back and forth, glaring down at the crowd that had now begun to gather. He moved away from them, and bent at the knees, gazing at the world below him. He saw the police come around, and yelled at him to not jump. Fuck the police. They’re just pigs. I can’t wait to get this over with. Ray looked at New York, and put his cigarette out for the last time. He jumped without warning, and then everything went black. Everything went blissfully silent, and there would be nothing they could do to bring him back from the dead.

PLAYEDBY;
Scott Herman

i, Maya, hereby comply with all forum rules, and Proboards terms of service. I understand that if my character is inactive for over a week my character will be deleted.

[lexie jae cullen]

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