[align=center][div style="width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: new times roman; font-size: 8pt; letter-spacing: 2.5px; word-spacing: 1px; line-height: 14px;"]It was better this way. Lonelier, perhaps. But better.
It had certainly been lonelier trying to be hers this whole time, but now Tatiana had found herself committed to a man who wasn't even an ounce good enough for her. But that was okay, Cobain was used to being nothing more than a passive bystander in his own life. If he were to ever try make a stand, he'd more likely trip over his own feet than make a solid case in his favour. Not everyone was created equal; Teddy would win the princess and Cobain would forever remain the appallingly shifty yet unassuming drug dealer. With a reputation as monotonous as that, no wonder Cobain was so often overlooked.
But it was better this way.
Cobain rarely had luck in love. Perhaps it was a Caruso thing; Mercury had been gifted a long-term relationship and even a daughter, but not even that kind of love would last forever. She would soon break up with Colby (amicably, if Cobain were to remember right), leaving his twin a single mom in an area that wasn't fit for happy families. But, if Tatiana and Teddy could play happy family, then so could Mercury. Not everyone was created equal, but Mercury deserved that much at the very least.
Cobain, on the other hand, was not so well versed in love. As naive and foolish as he was, Cobain had enough self-awareness to say that this lack in the romance department was entirely on him — well, mostly. Probably. There had been little luck with Tatiana, and maybe that was okay. It meant that he could become well acquainted with Maeve, if that was what they called it nowadays. But, as soon as they began to get too close, too intimate, she made a swift run for it.
Maybe there was something inherently wrong with Cobain. Maybe it was his awkwardness — a type that could not even be described as endearing — or the way he stupidly fumbled for the right word when spoken to. He was known as a drug manufacturer and dealer because it was a life he had always known, but it never meant that he was fit for the job. Just a boy trying to fill a big man's shoes, Cobain would be met with little success.
It was okay, though. It was better this way.
Picking mildly at the strings of an acoustic guitar, Cobain was somewhat distracted as he sat upon steps that lead to towards the beach. A mindless tune sounded peacefully, but his thoughts were not with the music. Eyes instead lingered upon the new beautiful blonde that he had since become smitten with. Lips parted slightly and brows furrowed deeply as he glanced up to admire Corinne every once in a while. It was as if karma was making a fool of him now — as most things in life did — by bringing a woman as pretty as a picture into his life, only to find that she was a Knope.
Two women began to engage in conversation with Corinne, and Cobain wondered what they could possibly be talking about. Had they taken notice of Cobain's doting eyes, mistaking it to be more menacing than intended? He wasn't a weirdo, just shy. So painfully, awkwardly shy. Okay, he just made things weird; they probably didn't even notice his existence. Eyes darted across the scene up ahead. The dog playing on the beach, the women all so eager as they spoke to one another, the way that Cobain wished that he had to guts to just walk up to people like that. He was more used to people approaching him first and still that was solely down to Cobain's role in The Badlands. That's how deals worked, right? Cobain would never make the first move; that was simply not in his nature.
TWANG.
Cobain visibly cringed to himself at the dissonance of two clashing notes, his hand buffering much of the noise by laying his palm across the strings. This moping about was doing no good for him and his racing thoughts. Maybe he ought to approach the group at some point to assure them that he wasn't being as peculiar as he was making himself out to be. Overthinking everything was truly a bitch. Truly, utterly, exponentially. And so, leaving his guitar propped up against a tree, Cobain began to wander towards the group, hands leaving his pockets so that he could pet the dog once he got close enough.
❝ I've always wanted a dog, so I thought I had to come say hi... to the dog, I mean. ❞ He petted the dog on the head, quiet for a second before correcting with a wavering voice, ❝ And to you guys, obviously. But also to the dog. And you guys... Isn't the weather so nice out today? I thought I had to chill outside with my guitar for a while. It'd be criminal not to. Hope it wasn't too distracting... I'm sorry if it was. ❞ He smiled between Ziggy and Lillith, eyes avoiding Corinne entirely because if he did, he'd probably faint. Or die. Or both. He wasn't actually sure what would be worse. ❝ Sorry, did I interrupt you guys? I've seen y'all around before, just never actually got the chance to say hi. ❞ Well, that was because he was too awkward. Is too awkward. Too stupidly awkward...
Okay, where was Mercury when he needed her?!
It had certainly been lonelier trying to be hers this whole time, but now Tatiana had found herself committed to a man who wasn't even an ounce good enough for her. But that was okay, Cobain was used to being nothing more than a passive bystander in his own life. If he were to ever try make a stand, he'd more likely trip over his own feet than make a solid case in his favour. Not everyone was created equal; Teddy would win the princess and Cobain would forever remain the appallingly shifty yet unassuming drug dealer. With a reputation as monotonous as that, no wonder Cobain was so often overlooked.
But it was better this way.
Cobain rarely had luck in love. Perhaps it was a Caruso thing; Mercury had been gifted a long-term relationship and even a daughter, but not even that kind of love would last forever. She would soon break up with Colby (amicably, if Cobain were to remember right), leaving his twin a single mom in an area that wasn't fit for happy families. But, if Tatiana and Teddy could play happy family, then so could Mercury. Not everyone was created equal, but Mercury deserved that much at the very least.
Cobain, on the other hand, was not so well versed in love. As naive and foolish as he was, Cobain had enough self-awareness to say that this lack in the romance department was entirely on him — well, mostly. Probably. There had been little luck with Tatiana, and maybe that was okay. It meant that he could become well acquainted with Maeve, if that was what they called it nowadays. But, as soon as they began to get too close, too intimate, she made a swift run for it.
Maybe there was something inherently wrong with Cobain. Maybe it was his awkwardness — a type that could not even be described as endearing — or the way he stupidly fumbled for the right word when spoken to. He was known as a drug manufacturer and dealer because it was a life he had always known, but it never meant that he was fit for the job. Just a boy trying to fill a big man's shoes, Cobain would be met with little success.
It was okay, though. It was better this way.
Picking mildly at the strings of an acoustic guitar, Cobain was somewhat distracted as he sat upon steps that lead to towards the beach. A mindless tune sounded peacefully, but his thoughts were not with the music. Eyes instead lingered upon the new beautiful blonde that he had since become smitten with. Lips parted slightly and brows furrowed deeply as he glanced up to admire Corinne every once in a while. It was as if karma was making a fool of him now — as most things in life did — by bringing a woman as pretty as a picture into his life, only to find that she was a Knope.
Two women began to engage in conversation with Corinne, and Cobain wondered what they could possibly be talking about. Had they taken notice of Cobain's doting eyes, mistaking it to be more menacing than intended? He wasn't a weirdo, just shy. So painfully, awkwardly shy. Okay, he just made things weird; they probably didn't even notice his existence. Eyes darted across the scene up ahead. The dog playing on the beach, the women all so eager as they spoke to one another, the way that Cobain wished that he had to guts to just walk up to people like that. He was more used to people approaching him first and still that was solely down to Cobain's role in The Badlands. That's how deals worked, right? Cobain would never make the first move; that was simply not in his nature.
TWANG.
Cobain visibly cringed to himself at the dissonance of two clashing notes, his hand buffering much of the noise by laying his palm across the strings. This moping about was doing no good for him and his racing thoughts. Maybe he ought to approach the group at some point to assure them that he wasn't being as peculiar as he was making himself out to be. Overthinking everything was truly a bitch. Truly, utterly, exponentially. And so, leaving his guitar propped up against a tree, Cobain began to wander towards the group, hands leaving his pockets so that he could pet the dog once he got close enough.
❝ I've always wanted a dog, so I thought I had to come say hi... to the dog, I mean. ❞ He petted the dog on the head, quiet for a second before correcting with a wavering voice, ❝ And to you guys, obviously. But also to the dog. And you guys... Isn't the weather so nice out today? I thought I had to chill outside with my guitar for a while. It'd be criminal not to. Hope it wasn't too distracting... I'm sorry if it was. ❞ He smiled between Ziggy and Lillith, eyes avoiding Corinne entirely because if he did, he'd probably faint. Or die. Or both. He wasn't actually sure what would be worse. ❝ Sorry, did I interrupt you guys? I've seen y'all around before, just never actually got the chance to say hi. ❞ Well, that was because he was too awkward. Is too awkward. Too stupidly awkward...
Okay, where was Mercury when he needed her?!
[align=center][div style="background=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; width: 410px; text-align: center; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 125%; font-family: Georgia; letter-spacing: 0.4px;"]SOMEONE TOLD ME TO BE SELFLESS,
[div style="background=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; width: 410px; text-align: center; font-size: 8pt; margin-top: -5px; font-family: Georgia; letter-spacing: 1.5px;"]BUT WE ARE HELPLESS WITHOUT ATTENTION !
[div style="background=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; width: 410px; text-align: center; font-size: 8pt; margin-top: -5px; font-family: Georgia; letter-spacing: 1.5px;"]BUT WE ARE HELPLESS WITHOUT ATTENTION !