I'm Not Who You Think I Am {Emilee}

[CURTIS CRANE]

Curtis was in actual physical pain from breathing the same air as his damn brother. That only drove him to find a place that he could have some peace and quiet without twin questions, or getting mistaken for his brother. He was starting to miss home, where most people were able to tell the twins apart quiet easily. He was missing his dad, who doted on him, and never lumped him in the same category as his brother. At least…he used to not do that. Of course their dad kept the better son, and sent the troublemaker to the woman that the twins didn’t know. So that was a sign, at least.

But it resulted in the same—the twins being shipped to the same school. And it wasn’t just their father’s decision, it was their mother’s as well. A woman that wasn’t present in their life thus far , was now making decisions that would affect their lives. Great. Curtis sighed, and rested his elbows on the table, running both hands through his short, flipped hair. He hung his head in his hands for a moment, letting everything just stew. Drawing in a deep breath, his broad shoulders raised—then deflated as he breathed out. Lowering one hand to the table, he raised his own head and used the other to raise the cold, frozen coffee to his lips. He sipped the straw slowly, staring at his phone on the table.

Part of him wanted to go home—he wasn’t entirely thrilled with New York. The hustle and bustle of the city was a little too much for him. There were some nice quiet places in Central Park, a few art galleries to check out—but he just wanted to go home to the nice quiet peace of his own house. To his own room that he didn’t have to share with anyone else. To the group of people he grew up with and considered friends. Those who could just listen to him speak a few works and remember who he was. He was getting sick of the scrutinizing stares as people tried to look for the word ‘Curtis’ branded somewhere on his body.

Opening up Facebook, Curtis scrolled through his phone as he sipped his coffee idly. Nothing worth reading about. Curtis hadn’t added too many people from Baum to his Facebook yet. He was living vicariously through old friends, looking to see if any of them missed him yet. He had a few good-luck wishes when he left, but he was easily forgotten it seemed. Once and a while he had a few questions about how he was doing. Even fewer were questions about his brother, which he promptly responded with an ‘I don’t know, and I don’t care’.

At least those people were familiar with the feud between the brothers. Curtis closed his phone for a moment, and put his chin in his hand while he peered out the window. He wasn’t exactly seeing the city, but more of the energy, the people walking through. None of them registered in his mind as he continued to stare. A small sigh came past his lips, before he put the straw past his lips once more. Green eyes completely spacing out. Yep. Absolute boredom at its best.

Outfit

[EMILEE STRICKLAND]

The number one weapon used by insomniacs, in Emilee's opinion, was straight black coffee. Despite not being able to get to sleep, Emilee needed it, and the dark shadows looming beneath her blue eyes proved it. And even though her uncle disliked the idea of Emilee pounding back caffeine, how was he supposed to be the wiser when he lived across town? Or, city, actually. Emilee grew up in Atlanta, or, really, in the suburbs, but she was still having trouble adjusting to the vastness of New York crammed onto one little island. But she had been lucky enough to discover a small coffee shop near Baum that wouldn't judge her for ordering plain coffee (looking at you, Starbucks). Seriously, was it a crime if Emilee didn't order some creamy cappuccino?

And so Emilee made her way over to Mug Shots, even thinking to grab her Holga camera on her way out. She loved capturing people studying in front of their computers and Emilee thought that the Holga effect was perfect for the shots she would snap today. Along the way, she caught some shots of people running about on their breaks, and even got some nasty looks from strangers. It didn't matter though. Emilee was content with seeing the world around her through a camera lens, and that was all that mattered that day. Being content, peaceful, calm. It was a daily goal and, unfortunately, it was a little hard to obtain.

Walking into Mug Shots, Emilee tucked her camera into her bag to take a moment and enjoy her coffee. The caffeine always made her feel fresh and rejuvenated; already, the heavy, cloudy feeling that was muddling up her brain began to lift (though not totally, because part of it was her meds) and the slight spark of life Emilee held behind her eyes returned. It was like liquid soul in a cup, honestly. Mmm, coffee. While taking a sip, Emilee scanned the place to see if there were any good picture candidates. Her eyes and heart froze in fear and anxiety as Emilee saw the slightly familiar frame of that Crane boy from her music theory class. Caspar, right? He had seemed decent enough, and Emilee needed his help for this unit, so it was natural to go and say hi to him, right? After all, Emilee shouldn't just blatantly ignore someone she technically knew...right? She was frozen in place though, the fear of speaking to someone she barely knew was clutching at her throat like a greedy hand. Even though her mouth was dry and her palms were damp, Emilee resolved herself and began to walk over. She needed help for a class, so she needed to be a big girl and go get it.

"C-Caspar, right?" Her voice was quiet, but that was the norm for Emilee. It was unusual for her to so much as raise it to a regular "indoor voice". "I know you're really good at music," Emilee had to keep swallowing nervously, even though her mouth was as dry as a desert. "This unit in music theory is a little, uhm, difficult for me and I was hoping you could help. 'Cause you're definitely good at it from what I've heard." Emilee sat her cup of coffee down on the table; her hands were shaking and the cup was still full enough that it was in danger of sloshing all over her. "What do you say, Caspar?" God, she hoped he wouldn't laugh in her face or something. That would just be the cherry on top of her perfect day. Sigh.

outfit

[/justify]

[CURTIS CRANE]

Caspar. Caspar. The name flew over Curtis’ head for a moment. He had trained himself to not respond to his brother’s name for any reason. He told himself it was so people didn’t mistake him for Caspar, but it was really so he could numb himself to his brother’s name. Even as the tiny voice was calling his brother’s name, he took a sip of his coffee, before finally noticing there was someone standing…awfully close. His green eyes fixated on her, sipping his frappuchino as she continued to ask him. Yes…he was good in music. But this young lady wouldn’t have heard about it. With his lips still around the straw, Curtis’ brows furrowed. The only people that knew he played was his brother, and his father. And even then, Curtis wasn’t certain his brother knew if he still played.

His teeth chomped down on his straw when he realized that she was actually calling him Caspar. Curtis lowered his drink, and furrowed his brows at her, getting a good look at her. “I’m not Caspar.” He said quietly and blinked slowly. “I’m not even taking music theory.” Almost to distract himself from her he opened up his phone, fully intending on ignoring her. As pretty as she was—automatic admittance to the Curtis’ shitlist was confusing him for his brother. But he couldn’t read the words on his phone—for the simple fact that he felt terrible. She was so quiet, so meek. It wasn’t like she was trying to put her chest in his face, trying to get his number, or singing Caspar’s praises. Lowering his phone, Curtis sighed and extended a leg to push the chair across him out for a place for the meek girl to sit.

He wanted to keep his friends his, and let Caspar have his friends. There didn’t need to be intermingling again. “I’m Curtis. His brother.” Curtis finally looked back up at her with green eyes—there was no recognition behind him. And he seemed almost cold when he spoke to her, though he was trying to be gentle. He didn’t want anything to do with his brother’s life, but it seemed like he was going to have to move out of state to get away. “I should be able to help you with your class though. Caspar doesn’t do his own homework, so he wouldn’t be able to help you much.” Curtis crossed his arms on top of the table, gesturing his fingers towards the seat for her. “What’s the unit on…uhhh…” His head turned slightly, and leaned towards her slightly. “I never actually caught your name.” He finally admitted, his brows furrowing again.

She never had to know he was musically inclined. But he knew just as much, if not more than his brother. At least he thought so. Just because he didn’t take his training as far as Caspar did didn’t mean anything—right? Right. He did his homework, so he could at least catch on easily. His brother would probably end up failing the poor girl.

Outfit

[EMILEE STRICKLAND]

Emilee Strickland wasn't used to embarrassment. To be embarrassed, you actually had to do something, like talk in front of your class or whatever. Emilee didn't do that. She was always the quiet one in class so she hardly ever experienced anything like that stupid emotion. So now, as she stood in front of Caspar, er, Curtis, floundering like an idiot, Emilee decided that she didn't like being embarrassed. At all. Her face had gone through fifty shades of red and she felt like bursting into tears for being so stupid. Immediately, the word "sorry" came tumbling out of her mouth in an urgent whisper. All Emilee wanted was to slump off and hide her shame elsewhere, but all of a sudden a chair was being kicked out for her to sit in. Eyes wide in surprise, Emilee nervously plopped into the chair. Was this so that he could make fun of her more? Was that his plan? Or maybe he was a really nice guy and felt bad for her. Emilee was convinced a lot of people felt bad for her.

Taking another sip of her coffee, Emilee looked on at Curtis with her baby blue doe eyes. "I'm sorry about that. I don't even know Caspar...and didn't know he had a twin. I'm really sorry you must hate me now." If it was possible to melt into a puddle, Emilee would willingly do it now. Goodbye cruel world, and all that good stuff. Emilee pulled her legs up into the chair to get more comfortable and watched Curtis talk, her thinking face on. If he could help her, that would be nice. Then she wouldn't have to worry about meeting Caspar or anything, because Emilee didn't think she could handle it. There was a reason she never made a point of being social, after all. And if Curtis helped her she just wouldn't bother talking to either of them again because she would probably get them confused and he would hate her more than he already did and it would just be awful. "I'm Emilee Strickland." Clearing her throat, this time when she spoke, her words were clearer and a bit louder. Closer to normal volumes, at least.

Rifling through her bag, Emilee pulled out her notebook, which contained the last notes from her music theory class and various doodles and lame attempts at song writing. "I'd really appreciate it if you could help me. If you don't mind. I'm probably interrupting something, aren't I?" Frowning, Emilee mentally cursed at herself. Her social graces were severely lacking, apparently. "We're just working on reading music right now I'm terrible at it. I keep getting notes and things confused, like I have music dyslexia or something." A pout still pulled at Emilee's bottom lip. For music theory being the only class she currently cared about, she was definitely flubbing it up.

Emilee began to pull at a strand of hair, a nervous habit of her's. "You totally don't have to help me or anything. I can leave, I'm probably bothering you." Emilee took a nervous gulp of coffee, like the hot liquid was an elixir to save her from embarrassment. Nope, just scalding hot and burning her throat.