lost {open!}

[drake raphael elliot]

Drake did not enjoy the dance buildings. For one, they usually smelled sort of sweaty, which Drake was always opposed to unless it was somewhere like a gym or a tennis court. For another, there was almost always some offending song blaring throughout the studios. Drake did not enjoy R&B or most of the songs that dancers seemed to want to dance to. It also made him uncomfortable if, when he was walking around the building, a group of scantily clad dancers in shorts that left nothing to the imagination walked by and gawked at him.

Drake rarely felt specifically uncomfortable, but at such times, he often found himself reaching up to his collar to give him room to swallow his discomfort. They were, after all, students and they shouldn't be ogling him. These were just a few of the reasons he didn't wander around the dance building, if he could help it. There was also the fact that he preferred to stay as secluded from the art buildings as possible, but people tended to frown on that explanation.

Despite all of this, Drake currently found himself in the dance building, following the sounds of some woman singing about her relationship in slang that he didn't understand. His phone was currently uncharged, which was strangely forgetful of Drake, and so was looking for Sebastian. He had a hunch that he might be at the end of the music trail. It just seemed like something he would be listening to or dancing to. Drake generally associated anything sexually questionable with Sebastian anyway.

Looking and feeling out of place in his suit and blazer, Drake strode along the halls, shoes clacking against the linoleum. He wished he had his cell phone, but it was on his desk, charging, where it should be. He had wanted to catch Sebastian quickly, though, so he had decided to just leave it. Unfortunately for Drake, however, the music stopped while he was in the middle of the hallway. He paused and looked around. There were no clues in the wall that would lead him to the room, which he supposed that he was unsurprised about.

He wrinkled his nose and looked around. The dance building sucked so much.

[annaleigh quinn sheppard]

Anna, on the other hand, was in the building by choice. She knew she would probably never set foot inside Michener again since she was not teaching a dance class, and was a naturally curious soul. She had heard about how amazing the studios were and how all the dancers were in love with them, but she just had to see for herself. What made them better than any other old studio? And what exactly was in a dance studio, anyways?

Pondering this intently as she explored, Anna almost didn't notice the very attractive, very lost-looking man down the hall. She quickened her back to go meet him and noticed as she drew closer that he looked mighty angry and probably not in the mood to talk. That was all right, she would do most of the talking until he grew comfortable.

"Excuse me!" she called, trying to make her short legs move faster. "Are you lost? You look lost. Or at least you look like you don't want to be here, which makes me think you're lost. Unless you've just has a bad day and you really are a dance professor. Are you?" She paused, waiting for him to answer all her rapid-fire questions.

[drake raphael elliot]

Drake was not the sort to ask for directions, no matter how dire a situation. Which is why when, as he was looking at the walls for guidance and the ceiling in the hopes that music would start wafting his way again, he did not think to find a human. When one did walk down the hallway, thus, instead of being overjoyed at the idea that she was there and that this was a directional method he had yet to try, he shrank back against the wall and tried to make himself look less noticeable.

He was, however, about to find out that standing closer to walls does not make a person invisible, contrary to popular belief. Despite the fact that he was all but pressed against it as the woman walked by, she still seemed to zero in on him as though she could see him plain as day. And, as soon as she started talking, Drake had to admit that yes, she had noticed him and yes, he was now at her mercy due to being lost in the dance building and trying to hide inside a wall.

As she started talking, he wished that he had succeeded in melting into the wall. It didn't seem like she intended to stop talking anytime soon, a habit which he had never been able to stomach. He did her the courtesy of looking at her while she talked, but he couldn't say with honesty that he hadn't furrowed his brows or scowled a bit, silently willing her to shrivel up and stop questioning him. What was she even saying? It was like word vomit.

In the end, Drake didn't want to be rude. It was a strange feeling, though Drake knew he experienced it more around the more pathetic of females, but still, he succumbed to it. At least, he tried. He latched onto her last question, the only one he really processed through the whole spiel. "I'm not a professor, no," he said, inching back toward the wall.

[annaleigh quinn sheppard]

Anna brightened when he attempted to answer her question...well, at least one of them. But hey, one was better than nothing right? "So...you're not a professor? Well you look like one. Or a TA. You're definitely too old to be a student." She suddenly realized this may be offensive and gasped, covering her mouth. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it that way. What I meant to say but failed to was that you're older than the average student. Not that that's a bad thing. I'm a bit young for the typical TA, so maybe I'm just biased like that and assume that everyone should be around my age. I mean, you look like you're at least in your early thirties, if not late twenties. Which isn't old at all, considering I'm almost mid-twenties!"

Okay so that was a bit of a stretch...22 wasn't exactly "mid-twenties". However, Anna could tell by the way the man clung to the wall that he was nervous. She figured if she told him a little about herself it would loosen him up a bit, and continued on with this plan. "My name's Anna, by the way. Anna Sheppard. Well really my name is Annaleigh, but no one except my mother calls me that. And she only calls me that when she's angry with me. Everyone else just calls me Anna. I'm a TA for Sight Singing, but I'm getting my Master's in Theater. I want to be on Broadway." She figured this was enough speaking for the moment and let it soak in, smiling in a friendly manner at the other man. Maybe now he would stop acting like Spiderman and peel himself off the wall!

[drake raphael elliot]

Listening to chatty people require so much effort. Why couldn't everyone just be strong and silent like Lawrence? True, Will was a chatterbox, but at least he was aware of just how much Drake could stand and likely knew when and if Drake was going to get impatient and start tuning him out. Chatty strangers, like this crazed woman, had no idea. And was she really a graduate student? He supposed she didn't look young enough to be a freshman, but she acted like it. This was just his luck.

"No, no," he said quietly, holding a hand out to emphasize. "I am a professor, I'm just not a dance professor." Did he look like a dance professor? He supposed he was limber and muscular enough. He decided to take it as a compliment. After all, women seemed to like male dancers, even if they weren't straight. He allowed his mind to gloss over the next few things she said, deciding only to respond to questions. It was easier this way, since it meant less for him to remember and come up with a response to.

The problem with that was, however, that she didn't really pose any more questions. If he stuck to his previous rule, then the conversation could just be over then. But tiny blonde stupid females reminded him of his sisters and he knew that he would feel guilty if he just left her there. She did seem excited, after all. So he decided instead to focus on the important information in her spiel, like name and age. He could handle this. He could totally handle this. Without snapping.

"Drake," he said, not offering up a last name. She didn't need it, after all, unless she was going to stalk him and he already had plenty of people doing that. "I'm in my late twenties. And I teach statistics." That was enough. She should be satisfied. Maybe she'd even move on after this veritable treasure trove of personal information.

[annaleigh quinn sheppard]

Anna was surprised that this man--Drake, he told her his name was Drake, she had to remember that--wasn't more forthcoming with conversation. Did she have to do all of the work? It seemed to Anna that she wouldn't get much out of Drake unless she asked him question after question. And as chatty as Anna was, she would run out of questions eventually. And then where would they be?

Thankfully, her short attention span snapped up on the next little fact it could catch--his job. "Statistics, huh? Is that a required class for freshmen? I have a hard time seeing how it works with an arts college, but I'm not really a math person so I guess I never see how math relates to anything. It takes too long to figure things out and I DEFINITELY don't have the attention span for it. I have ADD. So if I randomly switch topics or whatever just let me know because I don't even realize when I do it. Some people get so annoyed with me when they talk to me but it's like 'I'm sorry, I can't help it! I don't yell at you when you snap your gum or use the word "um" every ten seconds!' Y'know? Though I doubt you have that problem, you seem like not much of a talker."

[drake raphael elliot]

Drake stared at her, a little dumbfounded. Even if he'd wanted to try and follow that conversation, he didn't think he could. She talked as though her life depended on it, like he was going to whip out a gun if she didn't fill every second of the conversation with the sound of her own voice. Was there something about ADD in there? He needed to get out of this hallway quickly before he got suckered into another story.

"Math is required," he said, again latching onto the one thing he could. Math was good. He could talk about math. The best part was that it sounded like she couldn't talk about math, so maybe the more he talked about math, the more bored she would get and walk away. This was one of the many reasons that he loved math. "I also teach accounting for people who want a more practical minor than their major." That was almost chatty of him, so it was best to stop before he gave anyone a heart attack from the shock of hearing his voice.

He didn't really mind her rapid topic switching specifically. It didn't bother him any more than the fact that she wasn't shutting up, at least. And it wasn't like he had anything against her--anyone who tried to converse this enthusiastically made his skin crawl.

"It's fine," he said, clearing his throat and awkwardly adjusting his collar for something to do with his hands.

[annaleigh quinn sheppard]

Anna frowned and cocked her head, stuck on his "practical minor" comment. Why wasn't an art a "practical" minor? She had come from a family where nothing was impractical if one's heart was in it, and the idea that some people thought arts were silly and not a good career path dumbfounded her. Why did the world have to be full of doctors and lawyers? Anna never understood people who did not appreciate the arts.

"That sounds like a not-very-great attitude for a professor in an arts college," she said. "Maybe you just need to be around more artsy people and learn a new craft? Math has its merits and it's actually used in a lot of fine arts, such as dance and singing and pottery and stuff. Come to think of it, math is in every art! So I don't know if math is a more practical minor than anything else."

Anna noticed Drake tugging at his collar and gasped. "Are you hot? You must be sweltering! You're in that heavy coat and it's really hot in this building. Let's go outside." She took his hand and dragged him out of the building, plopping him down on a bench and sitting next to him. "Much better," she breathed, grinning brightly. "I love the breeze this time of year. It brings the temperature down, don't you think?"

[drake raphael elliot]

Drake wrinkled his nose at her. Of course she would think that. She was an artist and she probably thought that by being cheerful and perky, she would become famous. He, on the other hand, would always be able to find a job because people would always need accountants to help them with their finances. No one at this art school would have the job stability that he would once he paid back his loans. No one.

"Not math," he said, gritting his teeth. She didn't even listen well. Nevermind that he was hardly paying attention to her. "Accounting. One is just a thought process. The other is a skill."

He had barely gotten the words out when he found himself being touched--grabbed, even--and then dragged. This was not acceptable. This wasn't even normal. If he had a rape whistle, he would have blown it, although he didn't think it would deter this small, indignant person that he didn't even want to be talking to in the first place. He tried to pull away, but he didn't really know how to do so without accidentally hurting her, so he allowed himself to be tugged, scowling.

As soon as they were seated, Drake's scowl deepened. Now, outside, he was even further from finding Sebastian than he had been before and he still didn't have a phone.

"That's what breezes do," he said, his voice a low growl. Why did his life have to suck? Why?

[annaleigh quinn sheppard]

Anna breathed deeply, not noticing Drake's sarcastic tone. "I know. My favorite breeze is an ocean one. I know that sounds cliche but they're amazing. Have you ever felt one? They have a little bit of sea water in them so you get a little mist in the face with the breeze. It feels wonderful." She turned to Drake and beamed. "Have you ever been to the coast? I tried to get to the coast at least one weekend a month when I was at NYU. It was a little expensive, but it was totally worth it. It was like a vacation in the middle of the month!"

Anna pulled her hair off of her neck for a moment and let it drop and cascade around her shoulders in glossy blonde waves. "Sometimes it made me feel like I was in Ireland. Even though I've never been there. I'm basing that off of what my parents have told me about it. I want to get there one day to actually meet my whole family. My grandparents have visited a few times, but not that many. And I've never met my aunts and uncles and cousins. Which is a bummer. Do you see your family a lot? I bet you do. Do you have any siblings? I have a brother. I don't get to see him often because he's in the military. He's on deployment in Afghanistan, actually. He's been there before. I'm really proud of him."