rather do without [private]

maybe i'll be drunk again to feel a little love

For one of the only times in his life Drake was actually able to say he was completely sober and for it to be true. He was hated every minute of it. He felt tired and groggy, and his head was pounding from a hang-over that always seemed to appear when he left off the juices for a few days. H normally crashed out in his bed, not having much other to do than sleep. He was much to lazy to go out and exercise even if his siblings always pestered him to do it more often. He was a chilled-back guy that just wanted to spend all his free time getting drunk, sleeping and listening to music. Was that such a bad thing? Why did he have to leave his cabin and work!? The idea just made him want to crumple into a ball of the ground and flip off anyone that walked past, although he got that feeling a lot. He really was lazy. No wonder he wasn’t ripped like other campers his age. It was too much work!

Nonetheless, the son of Dionysus found himself pulling on a pair of really tight black jeans and an oversized sweater instead of lounging around in bed all day, Drake decided to trek around camp. He really and truly had nothing better to do and no one to meet up with, so he would just wing it and see who he came across. He wasn’t really bothered with finding anyone he knew. He was a social guy, of course, but today his head was absolutely killing him and he felt like hell so he wasn’t going out of his way to try and find someone he actually liked. Knowing all the people he knew they would only just put him back on the booze. He was trying to be good and lay off it, although it was a real struggle for him. Drake really was close to the brink of alcoholism – if he hadn’t already hit it – so even being sober for a day was an achievement for him.

He found himself wandering into the basketball ground even though he was British so he didn’t even know how to play a proper game of basketball. He knew how to throw a ball into a hoop though, even if his jeans were much to restricting in the leg and ass area so he couldn't jump or run very comfortably. All he had in his closet were skinny jeans that could probably cut all circulation to his lower body if he wore them long enough, so he didn't really know what one was meant to wear when playing these type of sports games. He certainly wasn't well prepared for the activity anyway. When he had to attend camp training he was able to rustle up a pair of sweats for himself but surely they weren't suitable for anything but training; especially when they were covered in blood stains from when he had cut himself with a sword or been slashed at by a sibling. He thought he would recieve a few funny looks if he went around like that.

Drake probably would have turned his heel if he hadn't heard someone guys around his age throwing their weight around. He flicked his hair to the side, rubbing his forward and feeling his headache getting worse just from listening to their sleazy voices. Just when he hoped that they would shut the heck up, then continued with talking down to a girl that was a few feet in front of him. They sounded like him when he was drunk; sexual and rude, although he hoped that he was more successful than the losers before him. At least he was only mildly insulted when he tried to use those lines on a girl instead of threatened. Just as the teenagers realised that they hadn't got lucky and left, Drake moved forward and flipped them off from behind their backs. "You just made my hang-over even worse, arseholes!" He moaned behind them, deliberating whether he should jump or their backs but realized he would-be beaten to a pulp probably.

He stopped walking until he converse where next to the girl's feet, stopping rubbing his forehead and looking at her. She was hot, yeah, but sober Drake was quite a lot different from drunk Drake so he wasn't in the mood right now to rudely state everythinng he would do to her if he got the chance. He just wanted to sleep. He wondered why he had even left his bed, to be honest. "Damn, they seemed like Idiots." he offered the girl a small twitch of the mouth before watching to boys again with slight disgust. "They can't even use those phrases right. Unlike me, of course. I bet I could get any girl with those phrases." he mused, but his heart wasn't really in it.

ooc; haha this Is so bad don't kill me Im just so freaking tired.

maybe i'll be drunk again to feel a little love

It seemed like this girl wasn’t really one to pick up the humor in his voice or behind his words, and he chose to sit down besides her and slump back in the laziest position possible. The practically-alcoholic teenager rubbed his clammy palms of the legs of his black jeans, his brown eyes going over the game that was being played before him and honestly feeling like falling asleep right there and then. Basketball was so boring! It was a bunch of tall and sweaty guys running around, trying to put a fricking ball in a hoop. It didn’t take a genius to do it successfully. He, if he had to do sports at all, just liked playing football (or soccer, as the Americans choose to have named it) or going on his BMX and sitting down most of the time. The more he thought about how much he hated exercise, the more he became surprised that he was lean and not at all chubby. It bemused him, for sure. The guys just looked so stupid in his opinion; no wonder this girl besides him had no interest.

ooc; moving over to mobile. Quality of the post shall decrease and it won’t be feely or good. Sue me.

maybe i'll be drunk again to feel a little love

Drake went from being crouch and relaxed to being on edge when he felt the girl touch his skin. He didn't move at first, his soft brown hair stopping him from looking or seeing her face directly, but he wanted to curl up into a ball and scream. His split eyyebrow raised, tugging the other along with It as he thought. Slowly he leaned away from the girl and pulled the sleeve of his sweater back up over his bracelets and the few scars that stayed on his wrist over the hard years. To her first question, the answer was simple; because he had found it difficult to cope with his life at different periods of time. He had been brought up to stash drugs for his mother, watched her murdered In front of him, been told his father was pretty much the God of underage sex and booze and become addicted to the drink himself. Drake would find it extremely insulting if someone had seen what he'd been through and still judged him. "Because." He shot at her, not continuing. "I dont even know who you are, what the-" The eighteen year olf swore loudly, recieving a few looks from nearby but folding his arms across his chest nonetheless. But then the girl apoligised and Drake found himself closing his eyes and letting his head fall back to face the sky. Maybe he was just taking everything out on everyone around him. He just really needed a drink, and he had no money and his siblings wouldn't even share! He literally thought he was suffering withdrawel symptoms. "Maybe you should just think about what you say first next time. People might get angry." Oh yes, Drake was angry, but he obviously didn't show or take It out on people. At least, not all the time.