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watch me stumble over and over ``CLOSED May 2, 2014 5:12:56 GMT -8

Post by GAVIN CARTER JENKINS on May 2, 2014 5:12:56 GMT -8

Gavin felt like he needed a break – a break from everything really. Dana left work abruptly, quitting. He hadn’t expected it, but naturally he felt like it had been all his fault. His guilt weighed on him consciously, yet he couldn’t bring himself to owl her to apologize. After all, how many times could one apologize before it meant nothing? He had told her a dozen times, and apparently that hadn’t been good enough. Her happy, pretty face lingered in his mind and although he felt sorry for her and missed her cheerful face around the office, he didn’t miss her. Not truly. There was nothing wrong with her at all, and Gavin worried that’s what the problem had been. Why couldn’t he have just brought himself to date her? She was normal, exceptionally beautiful, and she was smart to boot. There was just something missing – some kind of chemistry.

He decided he needed to get out of his regular habits. He needed to get out from Hogsmeade, and out of the Ministry of Magic. Muggle London would do. As a Muggleborn, Muggle cities did not frighten him at all. In fact, he felt comfortable. There was an anonymity that came with walking around London, and he let himself slide into that. He walked the city streets with the sun shining above and a slight cool breeze tickling his exposed face. It wasn’t quite warm enough to go exploring without a coat, but he left behind his usual scarf and gloves. Gavin pocketed some of his Muggle money, knowing that eventually he would grow hungry or something would catch his eye. He needed his mind to be busy. He had already cleaned his house from top to bottom. He doubted that his house would ever look so good ever again – and he had no one to show it to. He supposed if he did have someone to show it to, he wouldn’t have spent so much time meticulously cleaning it… if that made sense.

There were vendors on the streets that called to him to buy cheap souvenirs. He looked at the London eye and considered going for a spin, but then figured that it would make him feel lonelier. The people he passed were immaculately dressed, and he missed the Muggle style of clothing. He despised robes and the history it carried around with it. He knew the younger generation was starting to incorporate more Muggle clothes, he believed probably due to Muggleborns introducing others to it, but he wished that it would follow through everywhere. Robes seemed so old fashioned and behind the times. His mind wandered as quickly as he did through the city, his eyes grazing over the homeless who begged and the women in fur coats. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, or if he was looking for anything in particular. Maybe he just wanted to have a thoughtless mind. He thought of all the dark events taking place in his own world, and couldn’t help but think of how easy it would be to be in the Muggle world and not have to worry about all that rubbish.

He was just about to cross a street when the noise of an engine was in his ear. Gavin realized too late that a car was coming straight for him. He felt a hand wrap around his upper arm and pull him back suddenly, and out of the way of the vehicle that would have otherwise struck him.

Last Edit: Jun 5, 2014 11:51:34 GMT -8 by GAVIN CARTER JENKINS

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watch me stumble over and over ``CLOSED May 2, 2014 14:38:53 GMT -8

Post by Deleted on May 2, 2014 14:38:53 GMT -8

“ THE HABIT OF BEING HAPPY ENABLES ONE TO BE FREED from the domination of outward conditions ”
| Robert Louis Stevenson

Mr. Ollivander was one of the sharpest men about town on this fine, sunny day. Whenever he ventured into the Muggle world, he always looked at his most dapper. The idea of blending in had never appealed. So just because he was familiar with Muggle attire, it did not follow that he had to adhere to it. His mother had been Muggleborn, and it was from her generation that he seemed to draw his extravagant fashion sense. He wore his finest morning coat over a cream-colored vest and a starched shirt. His trousers were fine grey linen. The image of a nineteenth century gentleman would not have been complete without his silk top hat and a pale blue cravat. The look had a way of catching the Muggle eye without casting too much suspicion — in short, the perfect look for the ostentatious wandmaker. As much pride as he took in his mien, he was not here simply to parade himself through London Town. Ollivander always had a purpose for being somewhere. Sometimes one purpose would lead to another, and so forth, but there was an initial reason that had brought him out into the city.

He had an arrangement with a Muggleborn witch who lived in this neighborhood. She was a shapely thing with endless tresses of golden curls perfumed with jasmine. Indeed, the scent of jasmine clung to him even now, on his way back to Diagon Alley. A truly invigorating woman, Ollivander found her always to be delightful. If she was ever in a foul temper, he had never seen it. That sunny disposition, along with her pleasing features, had made her his favorite — and longest held — mistress. Most women fluttered in and out of his life like petals from a cherry tree, but not her. She was a comfort in times of stress and always enlivening. He felt young again. There was a decided spring in his step as he strutted through the streets.

It seemed that he was not the only one whose mind was wandering to other things. Waiting for a crossing light to change, a young man suddenly stepped out in front of him into oncoming traffic. Instinctively, Ollivander wrenched the fellow out of harm's way. "Careful, son," he admonished. That was when it clicked. This was no Muggle he had just saved. In fact, he recognized the man in his grip. "Good heavens, Gavin Jenkins! What on earth are you doing here?"

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watch me stumble over and over ``CLOSED May 18, 2014 16:34:37 GMT -8

Post by GAVIN CARTER JENKINS on May 18, 2014 16:34:37 GMT -8

Gavin was usually more intelligent than to just step out in traffic. In the wizarding world, traffic was of no concern really. But he hadn’t been born and raised in that world; he had been born and (mostly) raised in this one. One where everyone was dependant on these large contraptions that seemed to cause most of his mates great confusion. Gavin didn’t miss cars. They were inefficient and slow. He was pleased by how the wizarding population moved about, and he had no intentions of going back to the old ways. In fact, he had never even driven a car. When he visited family, they drove because he felt like he had no use of a license.

The grip around his arm was firm, yet somehow not painful. It was enough to draw him back. He stared at the car that nearly killed him; somewhat out of shock and somewhat because the passenger of the vehicle hung out the side and cursed at him. Gavin’s light eyes looked around, surprised, and settled upon an elderly gentleman. At first he thought it was just another Muggle, but the piercing look that was returned to him was unmistakeable.

“What am I…” he trailed off, almost as if he had to ask himself the same question. For some reason, Gavin always assumed that Ollivander picked up on things that normal people didn’t. It was probably in his look. It just seemed like nothing could get past the old man. “I can’t believe you remember who I am, sir,” he admitted. His heart still raced uncomfortably with the close call he just had, so he took a few quick breaths to calm himself. He sighed, grinned, and then looked at Ollivander sheepishly. “Woman problems.” There was no point in pretending there was nothing wrong. One did not just wander into traffic if everything was fine. He knew that some people found Ollivander rather … creepy. For some reason, Gavin found his company pleasant and comfortable, although he seemed a little out of place in Muggle London. He looked the part, but perhaps it was because Gavin wasn’t really used to his two worlds colliding. “What about you? Shouldn’t you be fitting students with wands? Although I suppose it must be slow this time of year…” his question was stupid, and probably imposing. His shyness took over him again and he averted his eyes. He shouldn’t have said anything. He should have just come up with some sort of lame excuse and moved on, but yet his feet felt like they were cemented in place.

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watch me stumble over and over ``CLOSED May 19, 2014 20:11:07 GMT -8

Post by Deleted on May 19, 2014 20:11:07 GMT -8

"I remember everyone to whom I've sold a wand, Jenkins," Mr O. replied smoothly. The light turned and the Muggles dispersed, leaving the two of them to speak a little more freely. He tipped his hat as he elaborated, "I also recall seeing your picture in the Prophet not too long ago. Quite the promotion at your age. My congratulations."

There was something distant in the young man's expression, the older gentleman observed. A close call with death as may be, the look in his eyes was vacant not shocked. It was clear that something was bothering him. His thoughts transported him miles from his present surroundings. Whatever was the matter, it occupied his attention so fixedly that he had nearly gotten himself run down. A man was not so fatally oblivious without good reason. Even blithering idiots managed to keep themselves alive (well, usually). Ollivander recognized that it was not stupidity but distraction that was affecting his companion. The question was, what perpetrated the carelessness? Jenkins did not leave him long to wonder. He illuminated the issue, and suddenly it all made sense. Nothing on earth could distract a man as effectively as the contemplation of a woman.

A sly smile twisted his lips. He watched the young man closely as he replied, "Hm, yes, you're quite right. This isn't the high season for my trade. But it's curious, what brought me out here today was also a woman. I'm guessing not for the same reasons as you. I'm not so likely throw myself under an automobile, for starters."

He spied a small cafe down the street. Waving toward it, he suggested, "Why don't we grab a cup, Jenkins? I daresay you could use a friendly ear."

He did not intend to keep the fellow from any important engagements. On the other hand, Jenkins was not likely to arrive safely for any appointments, not without taking a moment to collect his wits. Ollivander took rather a nosier interest than a benevolent one, perhaps, but taking the interest at all was the important part. He was not doing this just out of kindness. Indeed, he did not believe in the concept of pity. It was the intrigue that piqued his interest. He was irrepressibly curious what specific women problems Gavin faced. Mr O. was not one for gossip in most conventions, but the machinations of women never ceased to fascinate him. If, by way of satisfying his own inquisitiveness, he helped another soul to be at ease, then all the better. It was the icing, not the cake.

TAG GAVIN CARTER JENKINS
NOTES ollivander is such a chauvinist... my apologies to all women. (i hope andromeda redeems me.)

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watch me stumble over and over ``CLOSED May 20, 2014 11:59:38 GMT -8

Post by GAVIN CARTER JENKINS on May 20, 2014 11:59:38 GMT -8

For some reason, Gavin seemed to be in awe of Ollivander. The man gave off such an aura that it was difficult to not be impressed by him, by simply being in his presence.

“Yes, yes of course,” Gavin murmured as he absent-mindedly rubbed his head for a moment. He watched as the people around them disperse, yet he found it difficult to meet Ollivander’s sharp eyes. He grinned at the compliment and looked up. “Why yes, thank you. It wasn’t expected but…” he shrugged, always downplaying his own achievements. Congratulations were always hard to come by, particularly because most of the people he knew were from his department, and most people in his department had been bitter. If he did get a congratulations, it always sounded forced. Ollivander’s felt true, and for that Gavin found himself quickly warming up more to the other man. “It’s been loads of fun, though, I suppose. I mean, minus all the paperwork and never seeing home. But I guess home is a little overrated, eh?” Stupid, that was stupid, he thought to himself. Home was not overrated. If he could just have a week to himself to just lounge and sleep and read books he would gladly take it. He knew he had vacation time owed, but he never wanted to use it; always afraid that something would come along that he would want to use it for.

There was something about the way that Ollivander spoke that made his lips upturn almost permanently. It was almost a sass that was in Ollivander’s voice, and yet Gavin found it oddly refreshing. He chuckled and opened his mouth to elaborate, but Ollivander continued.

“Yes, certainly… that’d be delightful,” he responded, feeling already cheerier than he was moments earlier. He knew the area well, for both Muggle coffee shops and hidden wizarding ones. He preferred to stay in the non-magical world for the moment. Even though he had run into another wizard, such occurrences were actually quite uncommon. If Gavin felt like discussing something (which apparently he did), he hardly wanted to be overheard. He directed Ollivander to a coffee shop nearby, his mind whirring with what he could possibly say to him. Gavin suddenly became overly aware of how few friends he had due to the fact that so many stories and words were ready on his lips, yet he hardly knew Ollivander any more than a common stranger. He walked up to the counter and ordered his own drink before turning to his companion. “What will it be? I’ve got some… erm… regular money, so the treat’s on me.”

He didn’t figure that Ollivander hadn’t thought to bring Muggle money into Muggle London, but there was a part within Gavin – probably closer to the surface than he was willing to admit – that was craving company of someone other than a girl that he was romantically interested in, and he hoped that perhaps his friendly gesture would bond the two quicker than otherwise. As he waited, he eyed Ollivander for a moment and yet again considered what he could and could not say. Speaking of Eileen, particularly her age, would not go down very well. He figured he could just discuss her as a name, that would be safe. But then how would he explain the fact that he had pursued another woman when he had already been infatuated with one?

“I hope I’m not keeping you from your… lady friend,” Gavin said, as he couldn’t really recall if Ollivander had stated that he had already seen her or was going to. In fact, he didn’t even explain if the matter had been romantic or not. Perhaps ‘lady friend’ hadn’t been the best descriptive word.

Last Edit: May 20, 2014 12:04:22 GMT -8 by GAVIN CARTER JENKINS

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watch me stumble over and over ``CLOSED May 20, 2014 18:07:13 GMT -8

Post by Deleted on May 20, 2014 18:07:13 GMT -8

Ollivander had chuckled at Gavin's remark. Home certainly was overrated in his books. He could not speak to the young man's circumstances, but family life was not really for Mr O. If not for the sake of maintaining appearances, and the family name, he would not have consented to marry all those years ago. He'd have been just as happy to remain an eternal bachelor, though this was not to suggest that he resented his family. His children had brought him great joy, and even with his wife it was not all bad. But the devoted husband and attentive father act was simply not for him. Garrick had always been more focused on business than his home life. He had done his best by them all. He made sure they wanted for nothing and always tried to be open with his affection for them, but his absenteeism spoke volumes about his true passions in life. Case in point, his being out in Muggle London today, instead of home with his wife and son.

They entered the quaint little Muggle cafe. It was a charming enough place. At the counter, Ollivander reached into his pockets, only to be reminded of a rather embarrassing oversight. The coins that met his fingertips were Sickles and Galleons. Jenkins was more prepared, and the wandmaker had to express his gratitude. "I'm indebted to you. Just a black tea, if you please," he directed the order at the young lass behind the counter. He could not suppress a wink on her behalf, a harmless little flirtation. However, his attention remained fixed on his young friend. Jenkins' words clicked with something in his mind. 'Regular money,' he had called the Muggle notes. Couple that phrasing with his location and his flawless attire, and something became clear. Ollivander did not make it his business to pry into other people's blood status, but it was obvious that Jenkins must be Muggleborn. It occurred to him that a gesture of good faith might make the young man feel more at his ease. As they settled in at a table, he made a little friendly conversation. "You know, my mother was Muggleborn, but somehow I always forget to exchange money when I venture outside our little world. My only excuse is that I had not anticipated spending money out here, so I appreciate you getting my tea. I insist on repaying the favor sometime."

He added a drop of honey to his beverage, taking a brief moment to admire the plastic squeeze bottle in which the honey was contained. Muggle resourcefulness never failed to impress him. Even in such small ways, they found creative means to get by without magic. He directed his piercing gaze back to Jenkins. The young man seemed genuine and trustworthy. Certainly Ollivander had already surmised as much, or he would not have mentioned his maternal heritage. Admitting to come from Muggle stock was not something to be done in just any company, but disclosing his marital infidelity was even less appropriate (no matter whose company he shared). It was not exactly a secret that he had mistresses — not a well-kept secret, anyway — but that did not mean he should openly acknowledge the fact. To be seen flirting, to be a suspected philanderer was acceptable, whereas a blunt confession of adultery would damage his good name. He chose a more neutral response, neither correcting nor confirming Gavin's choice of phrase. "Not at all. I was already on my way back to Diagon Alley, but not to anything pressing, I assure you."

Ollivander took a comfortable sip of his tea. It was decent, not exceptional. Watching the younger man closely, he raised the issue du jour, "If you don't mind my asking, what women problems are troubling you so much? I don't mean to pry, of course, but you will find me an enrapt listener, Mr. Jenkins."

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watch me stumble over and over ``CLOSED May 23, 2014 10:30:48 GMT -8

Post by GAVIN CARTER JENKINS on May 23, 2014 10:30:48 GMT -8

Gavin was pleased that Ollivander accepted his offer. He always disliked offering something, only to have a small argument about who would actually pay – it usually happened with women, he hated to admit. He always felt like it should be a game of tug-of-war and a game of trusting that you would see the other person again. If he paid one time, he would be more than happy to allow the other person – woman or not – pay the next time. Gavin grinned at Ollivander’s wink. “Haven’t lost it at all, have you?” he joked. He hoped when he was Ollivander’s age – whatever that might be – that he would still have a good nature about him. Gavin was never particularly flirty, but he was still a nice lad, and he didn’t want to see the day where he became jaded or miserable. He was full aware that people changed and so did their outlook on life, but he hoped as years passed that he would become more optimistic and happy and not the other way around like what happened to so many people. He wondered why age seemed to deteriorate many people – not physically, but emotionally. “You can pick the tab up next time,” Gavin promised as he grabbed his drink and handed Ollivander his own.

Gavin didn’t realize that his blood status was that obvious, but he supposed it all came down to Ollivander’s cleverness and observation skills, or perhaps he remembered from a previous meeting. He doubted it could be the latter, considering he didn’t believe that he had seen the other man since he was eleven. He smiled at Ollivander’s words. “It’s really no bother, but I’ll take you up on that.” He glanced out the window for a moment and watched all the Muggles stream past, their biggest concerns being budgets or deadlines or other things that were petty and didn’t matter. They didn’t have to worry about the climbing Dark forces ascending in the wizarding world – well, they should worry, but they were ignorant, and Gavin was one of the first people to believe that ignorance was bliss. He tried to turn a blind eye to what was going on around them, but it was becoming increasingly more difficult and it left a bitter taste at the back of his throat. “I always seem to have a few pounds on me at all times,” Gavin admitted, returning his mind to the conversation at hand. “I don’t feel right without it.” He didn’t know why everyone he met who wasn’t Muggleborn always seemed to talk about those they knew that were Muggleborn once they found out his blood status. If it wasn’t a relative, then it was a friend, or so on. He supposed it was something that people didn’t even realize that they were doing. It used to bother him, as it made him feel different and disconnected somehow, but now he hardly took notice anymore.

Gavin was glad that his statement about Ollivander’s ‘lady friend’ didn’t go over as poorly as he thought it could have. Sometimes he believed that he had no ability to have any sort of conversation that didn’t center around his work.

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly at Ollivander’s question. “What problems don’t I have? I was seeing this woman at work, and that went south… I tried to fix it, and then she up and quit. Dunno what happened to her, really.” He took a sip of his drink to stall and let his mind go over what he could say. “And this all happened while I was fancying another girl, but I don’t really think she wants much to do with me either.” He chuckled. “I think I have the worst luck with women. You think you know what they want, and then they turn the tables around.” Gavin shook his head in disbelief. “And you know, there was nothing wrong with the woman I worked with, but I just couldn’t make it click. Every time I was with her, my mind was always wandering to the other girl.” It was something that he had never really even admitted to himself. He wanted to believe that he had treated Dana perfectly, but if he had, his mind wouldn’t have always gone to Eileen, would it? Or did most people always settle for their second best, always haunted by their first choice? He hoped the world didn’t work that way.

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watch me stumble over and over ``CLOSED May 24, 2014 12:57:58 GMT -8

Post by Deleted on May 24, 2014 12:57:58 GMT -8

Garrick could be a bit of a rapscallion, certainly. When it came to women, he just could not help himself. There had to be a wink, a special little smile, something to express his appreciation of the fairer sex. The unflattering label might have to call him a womanizer, but Ollivander always attempted to be a gentleman about it. There was more kindness in him than predation, or at least, he hoped so. There were times when the distinction was not always clear, but they normally involved too much booze. By the sober light of day, he was much gentler. Of course, on this day he was even more docile, having already been to see his mistress. It was remarkable how pacifying an effect that had on him. As a man frequently ruled by libido, Garrick sometimes had trouble comprehending men who struggled in matters of love. Circumstance was another issue altogether, for life did not always present easy opportunity, but the idea of being shy around women — that was something he did not understand. To him, flirtation was simply second nature.

Difficult as insecurity was for him to appreciate, it did not mean he was insensitive to the topic. However, he was fairly positive that shyness was not what bothered Jenkins. After all, he was a good-looking young man. Surely he did just fine with women. The trouble would be more personal, more specific; Ollivander was sure of that. He let the fellow speak uninterrupted, listening closely and watching his expression. Jenkins' eyes slid in and out of focus. That wistful, vacant look returned, which he had first observed on the street. He rubbed his chin, ponderously.

"The heart can be a troublesome thing. Personally, I try to leave it out of my affairs, but we don't always have that luxury," he replied when Gavin fell silent. The use of the term 'affair' was an unintentional slip. He had meant to imply that he tried to divorce feeling from all of his actions, but his subconscious had selected a more ironic phrasing. "This first woman, you think she turned in her notice because of you? I can see how that'd make you feel guilty, but you're not responsible for her choices. In these situations, someone has to be the one to back away."

He sipped his tea, keeping his luminous eyes fixed on the younger man. "It sounds to me, like the real trouble is this other lass. Don't let regrets about the first woman cloud your feelings for the second. That's my advice. Take it from an old man, life is too short to let opportunities go by. Carpe diem. Why don't you tell me a little about her, this woman who's captured your thoughts..."

To some extent, it did not matter what Jenkins told him about the young lass. Ollivander wanted to get him talking about her, not for his own curiosity, but so that he could study the man. The tone of Gavin's voice, the look in his eye as he talked about the girl would speak volumes. Garrick could not prevent a small, amused smile from gracing his lips. He was not so much reminded of himself, than that he was put in mind of what it meant to be young. There was so much uncertainty in youth. The old dogs knew the secret, though. In the long stretch of decades, the little doubts meant nothing whatsoever. Perspective had a way of smoothing out the bumps in the road. Sometimes Mr O. forgot there had been bumps at all.

TAG GAVIN CARTER JENKINS
NOTES i loved that bit you put in about people always mentioning they knew a muggleborn. so true. lol

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watch me stumble over and over ``CLOSED May 26, 2014 8:45:26 GMT -8

Post by GAVIN CARTER JENKINS on May 26, 2014 8:45:26 GMT -8

Even at the tender age of twenty-one, Gavin was not a flirt, and if he said something flirty by accident, he would blush embarrassingly. It’s not to say that he never complimented women, but compliments were different than flirting comments. It just wasn’t in him, and it still surprised him that a man at least thrice his age seemed to have a much stronger ability in it. He didn’t know what it took to be so flirtatious – perhaps a stronger confidence, a better sense of self? Gavin wasn’t self-conscious, per say, but he also didn’t have the confidence or arrogance that most people associated with Gryffindors. He took a sip of his drink. If he wasn’t confident or arrogant, or even brave for that matter, what had made him a Gryffindor? It was almost like he hadn’t really belonged in any House, so the Sorting Hat just made a random selection. He wasn’t cunning enough for Slytherin, not brave enough for Gryffindor, not clever enough for Ravenclaw, and not … well, whatever made Hufflepuffs a Hufflepuff. Maybe he should have been placed there, for all he knew. He knew that many students worried over their selection, but sometimes it overwhelmed Gavin’s thoughts and made him distracted. It was just a silly thing to encourage students’ skills and camaraderie, but for him it almost felt like something more. Gavin almost said something about it out loud, but he hardly wanted to burden Ollivander with all his problems.

Gavin smiled gently at the advice. “If only I could do that. I try to follow my brain rather than my heart, but that always mucks things up, too.” If he listened to his heart, he knew that he would get horrible comments and perhaps even put his career in jeopardy. It wasn’t illegal, but the age difference didn’t sit right with him, and therefore it no doubt would not sit well with others, either. He listened as Ollivander told Gavin not to dwell on Eileen, and he thought it was probably good advice. After all, Eileen was now in a – Gavin shuddered to think of it – a relationship with another person. A boy. However, whether by curiousity or just trying to be helpful, Ollivander told Gavin to describe her. That feat was quite easy for him, as her face always seemed to be at the front of his mind, her laugher ringing in his ears, the feel of her lips against his that one time…

“She’s just so…” he paused, unable to put Eileen into words. “Indescribable. She’s absolutely beautiful, she has the best laugh. I feel like I could hear her laugh from a town away. She’s incredibly clever, and she always knows how to retort anything, whether she agrees, disagrees, or just wants to be devil’s advocate. She’s impulsive,” he added as he remembered her kissing him in front of her father. He looked around the room at all the plain faces, people that he wouldn’t remember five minutes from now. A smile spread over his face fondly, “I think you’d like her. She’s so … unique. Completely different from the pack – the type of girl that you could spot in a crowded room no problem. Unfortunately, I’m not the only one who sees that. I guess it doesn’t matter how I feel anyway, as she’s moved on. Has a new companion.” He didn’t want to say ‘boyfriend,’ as he didn’t want to say it out loud. “It’s not like I ever had her, really, so she had every right to go to someone else.” He chuckled, but out of sadness. “Well, even if I had her, she’d have every right to go to someone else… someone who would… treat her better…” his phrases came out disjointed as he stared at his cup a little too hard, the emotions hitting him a little too strongly. Gavin had admittedly never really vocalized exactly how he felt about her. He complimented Eileen all the time, and said similar things within owls, but never all at once. There was so much more to her than what he even said, but it was like trying to describe emotion.

He looked up at Ollivander, although his light eyes seemed a tad more dewy than before. “She was what my heart wanted – Dana, the girl from work, was what my mind told me I should have. Does that make sense?” he took a sip of his drink, primarily to calm and distract himself. He let the scalding beverage slide down his throat, a little too much and it was a little too hot. He coughed uncomfortably, but at least it helped the lump in his throat burn away. He felt childish sitting there, looking like an idiot in front of this impressive man. He knew he should be asking about Ollivander’s life, about the fantastic things he had no doubt accomplished, but instead he was pouring his heart out over a sixteen-year-old girl that he never even had. A girl too young to be his – one that was born in the wrong year. If she was older, he would have stopped at nothing to have her, but he knew – just as she did – that they couldn’t. Gavin wanted to wait until she was older, at least at seventeen she was legal in all senses, but it wasn’t up to him to tell her to wait. If she moved on, like it seemed she had, it was up to her. He wanted her to be happy, but a selfish part of him wanted her to be happy with him. Fuck that little punk with his nicotine-stained fingers, fingers that probably caressed her face. The way he talked – Gavin almost couldn’t believe that she had chosen such a boy who was clearly lacking any sort of intellect. He wanted the world for her, but would he more upset if she chose Noah, or a man who was even better than Gavin? Would it have made him feel better to see her with an attractive boy her age, one with a rucksack sagging with heavy books that she could debate with him? One that knew how to hold her hand and take things slow?

He momentarily almost forgot that he was in a coffee shop with Ollivander. “I’m sorry… I tend to zone out sometimes,” he admitted sheepishly. “I always have so much in my head, but never really anyone who cared to hear it.” He didn’t know why he was being so candid with Ollivander. Maybe his desperation for company was just seeping out of him, creating an aura of loneliness. Maybe Ollivander was okay with that, maybe he was just good at consoling the lonely.

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watch me stumble over and over ``CLOSED May 26, 2014 16:57:08 GMT -8 GAVIN CARTER JENKINS likes this

Post by Deleted on May 26, 2014 16:57:08 GMT -8

The smile became tinged with sympathy. Jenkins' heart poured out, and from the objective perspective of an outsider, Ollivander could see the tragedy that was love. This poor man was hopelessly lost to it. He was a captive; it showed in his wistful stare, his tremulous voice, even the manner in which he gripped his cup — as though the liquid inside was precious to him. Small wonder that his mind wandered, when his heart was a prisoner. The old man perceived that he was burdened with guilt, even remorse. Heartache might as well have been a physical shackle around his throat, but the bittersweet nature of such anguish lay in its equally enticing qualities. As much agony as longing caused, it stemmed from the sweetest roots. His face lit up as he spoke about the girl he loved. The words he struggled to apply to her emphasized the dissatisfsable yearning inside. A prisoner could never be free, when he built his own cage.

Ollivander found himself reminded how truly fortunate he was in these matters. He was not entirely emancipated himself, for even the most gilded cage was still entrapping, but he ought to have been more grateful. Unlike his young friend, his heart did not pine; he did not want for any lack of affection. To say he had never felt such things would be untrue. There had been women in the past for whom he would have done almost anything. Not being a free man had cost him more than one chance at true happiness. In those dark moments, he had come close to destroying the respectable life he had built with the wife he had merely consented to marry, the woman he had never exactly loved. But it was she who was the mother of his children; he could never discard her so callously. Time had taken care of all the rest. After months of pain, the years and decades had inexorably quieted those emotions that had once threatened to upturn his life. He found new passions, new pleasures, and had arrived at the happy medium. It was some form of freedom to be unburdened by deeper feelings. Hearing the young man speak his heartache made Garrick appreciate his neutral ground all the more. Man was a slave to the heart, and he was lucky to be unfettered by those particular chains. The manacles he wore were far less heavy.

"I'm sure that I would like her," he replied, fixing a warm expression on his face. "She sounds enchanting, like a real spitfire. Does she... know how you feel about her? Honesty can be a powerful thing, especially in matters of the heart. Personally, I've discovered romantic gestures to be just as powerful as candor, but it takes a kind of panache to get right. I hope it's not impertinent of me, but I get the impression that sincerity would serve you better than flair." A cheeky glint flashed across his gaze. Strutting and flair were two things he prided himself on, especially regarding women. It was a tactic that had served him well, but not everyone was cut out for flamboyant gestures. Not everyone was an internationally famous wandmaker, either. He suppressed the chuckle that would undermine his advice. "You might try talking to her more openly. I'm quite happy, and I daresay flattered, to share your confidence, Jenkins, but far better than an old man, would be the woman you love. It ought to be irrelevant whether she has someone else," asserted the adulterer. "At least, inasmuch as talking to her. Giving up is the easy route. It may not be any less painful to fight for what you want, but it's your only chance to actually get it."

"Mm," he exclaimed through his most recent sip of tea, "but there's no need to apologize. I find myself frequently lost in thought, and usually with a much flimsier excuse. As troublesome as the heart can be, the head isn't always much clearer. Different sorts of problems, of course, though usually less complicated than pursuing unavailable women." Or being unavailable yourself, he added silently.

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Last Edit: May 26, 2014 17:01:09 GMT -8 by Deleted

GAVIN CARTER JENKINS

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watch me stumble over and over ``CLOSED May 26, 2014 17:31:03 GMT -8

Post by GAVIN CARTER JENKINS on May 26, 2014 17:31:03 GMT -8

Gavin had never fallen for someone as hard as he had for Eileen. He was perfectly aware that he could be looking at her with rose-coloured glasses, and that she wasn’t as wonderful as he believed her to be. In fact, he hadn’t seen her in ages. Maybe her hair wasn’t as bright as the sun, or her eyes didn’t meet his with a ferocious desire. He knew that people remembered others as better as they were, but he couldn’t remember a time where he didn’t seek her company, or her doing anything that irritated him. Perhaps he didn’t know her well enough – that was a possibility, too. However, he couldn’t get out of his head the first time he met her. It was like they had known each other for years, and by the time the day was through all he wanted to do was break the wall that had separated the rooms in which they had slept. The more he spoke of Eileen, the more his heart swelled and threatened to burst through his chest. What was five years, really…? In fact, he knew that it was everything. It completely divided the line between what was appropriate and what wasn’t. If only they had met at a different time, in a different place. Gavin could have perhaps fallen for someone else, loved them, lost them… and perhaps meeting Eileen then would have been perfect. She could have picked up the pieces, she could have… well, there was no point in thinking in ‘what ifs’ and he knew it. It was simply toxic.

Gavin was completely grateful for Ollivander’s undivided attention; his politeness. It was hard to find someone so kind and understanding. Perhaps it was the years that Ollivander had built up that made him empathetic towards others. He probably had experienced everything Gavin had experienced many times over. He wondered if he sounded as young as he felt, but began to doubt that Ollivander minded very much.

Gavin suddenly diverted his eyes and looked down at the table. He fiddled with a nearby napkin as if he were being scolded by an elder. “I… I’m fairly sure she knows full well about how I feel.” Gavin felt like he talked himself into a trap where he couldn’t get out without admitting what the true problem was. He had told Eileen how he felt; he was so incredibly honest with her that it hurt. He wanted her to not want him, to move on so that the ache inside would gradually subside. Instead they played this game of back and forth that was worse than breaking it off entirely, and Gavin was admittedly too weak to be the one to call it off. He still sat with his quill in his hand every night, poised above parchment, but unable to come up with anything to say. No, that was wrong, he knew exactly what he wanted to say: he wanted to tell her everything. Not just about how he felt, but also about his life. He wanted to ask questions about her own, he wanted to know her favourite colour and her second favourite colour, and which day of the week was her least favourite. He wanted to memorize the way she flicked her hair out of her eyes and the feel of her waist beneath his fingers.

He wanted to tell Ollivander that it wasn’t so simple, but he knew that Ollivander knew better. It was folly to believe that Ollivander had never had any problems himself, especially romantically. Everyone had them, and Gavin wasn’t silly enough to think that he was alone in his suffering. He knew others had it worse, but it was like he had blinders on. He shook his head and forced a smile. “Tell me of something. A problem of yours, a concern. You’ve been an open ear, it’s only fair that I should do the same. Actually, I’d love to be distracted.” He didn’t want to stop talking about Eileen, but a different part of him would disagree. He knew how tiresome people were when they repeated something or only could seem to talk about one thing, and he didn’t want to be that type of person… he wasn’t that type of person. Then again, he usually wasn’t the type of person to pour his heart out to a near stranger.

Notes: Sorry about the lack of dialogue!

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watch me stumble over and over ``CLOSED May 26, 2014 20:05:13 GMT -8

Post by Deleted on May 26, 2014 20:05:13 GMT -8

It was possible that he had pushed too far, or that Jenkins no longer felt like discussing his problem. After murmuring a small rebuttal to Ollivander's advice, he had fallen into a gloomy silence. Perhaps it was best to let the issue rest, as the young man wished. Distance and perspective, which was to say relief from the entangled emotions, often came with time alone. Ollivander understood better than anyone, and he would certainly respect his companion's wishes, if he desired to change the subject to something less personal. Mr O. had pried enough into the life of a man he had just met. He searched for a new topic; one that would not sound disingenuous or too overt, but he was spared the effort as Gavin raised an question of his own.

What he asked for was a sign of good faith, for Garrick to reciprocate and share something of himself. The benign smile faded from the old man's face. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs in an attitude of considering the proposition. He did not take any great pains to hide his expression of appraisal. A good listener he might be, but it was not so easy sharing his secrets in return. There was more riding on his troubles. than the opinion of one man. If Jenkins thought less of him for being unfaithful to his wife, or distant from his children, it was ultimately inconsequential, but if word spread there would be larger repercussions. No matter how he misused them, he did not wish to see his family torn apart; not any more than he wished to see his business collapse under scandal. Did he trust Jenkins to keep quiet? His moonlike eyes scrutinized the young man's face. His whole being cried out 'sincerity.' He looked the part and had furthermore demonstrated that he was the earnest, honest type. Somehow that made Ollivander feel sorry for the lad. Life could be rough on the openhearted.

He could have easily spun a tale of something insignificant, like a wand that had given him trouble or a story of misadventure from his younger days... But to do so would have been unfair after Gavin's openness. Ollivander's gaze drifted away to the lass at the counter, but he saw through her. He reflected on his life and the frighteningly unwise choices which he made on a daily basis. He did not like to stop to contemplate how carelessly he lived, for when he paused to take stock, it worried him deeply. In business everything was textbook, clean, efficient and everything that it should have been. But his private life was a steep slope into hedonism. He got through it by ignoring the precarious nature of his behavior; by letting selfish pleasure distract him from dutiful responsibilities. He liked to think of himself as a cerebral man, someone calculating; a person in control of his circumstances, but he was not always. Not even often, if his nights spent alone counted against him as much as those spent with other women. When pitted against his inner desires, he was powerless to resist temptation.

Realizing he was being rude to his companion, by displaying such hesitation to speak, he looked back at Jenkins and forced a tentative smile. "Pardon me. There's proof that my mind wanders just as much as any man's," he declared in a passably casual tone. "In the end, I suppose my problems are common ones. I'm not proud to admit it, Jenkins, but I was never cut out to be a family man." His eyes dropped to his left hand as it lay upon the table. His wedding ring glittered brightly on his finger. With his right hand, he caressed the the band, much the way a prisoner might rub the chains on his wrists.

He sighed. "Oh, it's not all bad. I love my children... and my wife. Merlin knows I tried. I do try." He met the gaze of the young, heartsick man across from him. The table between them might have been a metaphor for the desires of the heart; one longed for recognition, the other for release. The irony was palpable. A bitter smile formed on his lips. "But it's not easy. I fail them far, far too often. Often enough that I sometimes forget I owe them more."

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watch me stumble over and over ``CLOSED May 27, 2014 7:54:15 GMT -8

Post by GAVIN CARTER JENKINS on May 27, 2014 7:54:15 GMT -8

Gavin hadn’t experienced true bonding with someone, particularly with someone of his own sex, in ages. He realized that the relationship he was slowly building with Ollivander should have been like a father/son one, but Gavin didn’t feel like that. It was almost as if he was merely speaking to a cleverer peer, or someone who was simply better travelled. He didn’t know how Ollivander kept such a youthful aura. Even though Gavin had spent nearly half of his life in the wizarding world, he still wasn’t familiar with what was necessarily normal and what wasn’t. He knew that many wizards lived longer than Muggles, but did it mean that they stayed younger longer, or just spent a longer portion of their life in old age? He felt that despite that Ollivander had clearly aged physically, his mind seemed as sharp as ever – well, not that he could possibly know that for sure. The man was old enough to be at least Gavin’s grandfather, so it’s not like Gavin knew what the other man was like young or growing up.

He knew that Muggle or not, bonding happened when both parties divulged information about themselves, otherwise it was just a pity party. Ollivander could leave, and Gavin would feel nothing but a heightened weight on his shoulders for admitting the feelings that he had never really put into words. He would know nothing more about the great wizard sitting with him, an experience he wasn’t sure how many people were able to say that they’ve had – well, unless Ollivander frequently went about asking random lads for coffee and asked them to spill their minds out on the table as if they were an interesting book. Gavin almost chuckled out loud – he doubted very much that he would be considered an interesting book. Maybe just a mildly more entertaining one than not reading at all.

He didn’t distract Ollivander from his thoughts. Gavin wondered how many life tales and problems that the man had to shuffle through. Surely someone in his position would have many things to talk about, but just like when you’re at a restaurant and there’s an abundant amount on the menu, sometimes more options meant it caused difficulties in making a decision. He smiled kindly at Ollivander’s words, “I suppose I’d be an idiot if I believed I was the only one whose mind wandered,” he replied. Sometimes he did feel that way, though, when he saw others spew words out of their mouth like everyone wanted to know the first thing on that person’s mind, or when someone chattered incessantly about unimportant things. Gavin liked to chat with people he was comfortable with as much as the next person, but most of the time he preferred to think over what he was going to say before he said it, and didn’t care much about speaking of gossip. Well, most of the time. He had to admit, even just to himself, that sometimes gossip was the heart of a conversationalist. He doubted that he would be considered a conversationalist by any means, but he could appreciate what many may call a subtle art.

Gavin was surprised by Ollivander’s sudden admission, and his eyes too lowered to the other man’s wedding band, something that he had almost failed to notice before. How had he not been aware of Ollivander’s marital status? Or was it something that he knew in the back of his mind, but had been shoved further down due to the overcrowding due to his own personal stresses? His green eyes moved back up to the old man’s face, and looked for a sign of remorse or sadness. He was usually quite good at reading others, but Ollivander’s face sagged in what could be interpreted as a perpetual sadness. All Gavin had ever wanted was a family. All he desired was a wife and a few kids, the white picket fence and all that. It was something he was openly honest about, and something that the few mates that he had tended to tease him about; joking that he would be the wife in the relationship. He didn’t care. He didn’t necessarily think that wanting a family was something to be ashamed about. A part of him told himself it’s what true men wanted. However, he clearly had great respect for Ollivander, and he was surprised to find that his feelings for him were not tarnished by the man’s confession. He did not interrupt, but paid attention raptly.

At first he was at a loss for what to say. They seemed to suddenly be opposites, a world suddenly sitting between them. He opened his mouth once, twice, but nothing immediately came out. He smiled, slightly embarrassed, before finally deciding on the words to say. “What’s good for Peter isn’t necessarily what’s good for Paul,” he was paraphrasing some sort of quote that he had heard while growing up with his family, unsure if Ollivander had ever heard it before. He hated to resort to using quotes, but when one didn’t understand the situation or another, what else was there to do? He bit his lip for a moment. “You told me that I should be honest with Eileen – erm, the girl I fancy,” he elaborated quickly with a dismissive wave of his hand, a gesture that showed that he didn’t necessarily want to return to that topic. “I know it might be silly of me to say, as you’ve probably already considered it, but have you ever thought to be honest to your wife? That perhaps she isn’t aware that this isn’t really want you want? I hope you take no offense in my saying so, but I’ve always believed that a family is better separated in love than together in stress.” He coughed and then added, “If that made any sense.” He was never really sure in what he said, especially when trying to give advice. Trying to advice Ollivander felt silly, like a student trying to teach a professor a lesson.

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watch me stumble over and over ``CLOSED May 27, 2014 16:59:31 GMT -8

Post by Deleted on May 27, 2014 16:59:31 GMT -8

Ollivander wished he had said nothing. He could see his words ticking through Jenkins' mind, as the lad tried to rationalize what he had heard. It was almost as if Mr O. had a little window into his brain through which to watch the cogs turn round. It must have been something of a disappointment to learn how this brilliant wizard was flawed. He was taken aback, perhaps wrong-footed to discover something so human about a famous figure (or so Ollivander's ego surmised); yet, for all that, he did not seem any less disposed to the older man. He bore the news with goodwill. That was of some relief.

Ollivander got the gist of what Jenkins was trying to say. Happiness did not follow a universal formula. One person's dream might be another's nightmare. The two men sharing this table embodied that concept perfectly. The young and the old; the believer in love and the skeptic, they were opposites divided by a gulf of years and motivated by adverse desires. Ollivander could not speak for the other man, but he did not find their differences off-putting. Quite the reverse. He appreciated those who were dissimilar for their divers points of view. It might do him good to listen to the young man, but heeding advice was more difficult than respecting it. A world-weary sigh tore itself from his lips. "I'm afraid it's more complicated than just speaking with Barbara, my wife. She's the only thing holding the family together. Merlin knows it isn't me."

"Perhaps the kind thing would be to let them go, for me as much as for them. But how could I turn them lose? I cannot let them — myself become the subject of such scandal. The Ollivander name stands for something, now more so than ever before," there was an almost aggressive tone of pride in his voice. He stared at Jenkins without seeming to blink. "I married for the sake of appearances. I had children to carry on the legacy of my fathers... I can't let that be in vain."

He realized he might have been speaking too vehemently. This was not an argument he had ever dared to voice, and more than two decades of repression had whetted his resentment. He relaxed his posture, loosened the cravat at his throat, and looked away from the young man. To temper his bitterness, he forced himself to take a sip of tea. When he spoke again, his tone was calm and collected. "Forgive me, you mean well. I don't wish to seem ungrateful for your concern, but the truth would ruin me. Honesty is power, but not always for good. If they learned what sort of man I really am, I don't think my children would be able to forgive me, and I cannot lose them. Barbara... Sometimes I think she does know." He gave a humorless laugh. "At least, she suspects me of the worst. And she should."

His eyes moved back to Gavin. Such an open face, unsullied by deceit... so unlike his own, weathered, wicked visage. The shame it made him feel to admit everything, this was why he did not speak of it. He did not even think on the subject often, to preserve his own image of self-worth. It was easier, and far more satisfying, to lose oneself in delights of the mind and body, than it was to face the cold, ugly truth. He did not quite know what else to say. Gavin was the better man. Ollivander found himself on unfamiliar ground by admitting that to himself. Accomplished, famous and respected as he was, Garrick was just a man — a deeply flawed, imperfect man.

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Last Edit: May 27, 2014 17:00:30 GMT -8 by Deleted

GAVIN CARTER JENKINS

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watch me stumble over and over ``CLOSED May 30, 2014 9:02:49 GMT -8

Post by GAVIN CARTER JENKINS on May 30, 2014 9:02:49 GMT -8

fire, fire

you set my soul on fire

laughing in the corner as it burns

Gavin felt stressed about trying to give advice to someone who had probably heard more advice in his lifetime than Gavin had ever even heard words. He knew he should feel content with the fact that Ollivander had confided in him whatsoever, but the anxiety half of Gavin didn’t feel that way. He knew this was the reason why he didn’t have many friends and didn’t go out often. He was never confident in his words and he was always unsure what to say. Ollivander admittedly made him feel vulnerable, not just about his own actions but of his words. Gavin had the sudden desire to come up with some excuse and flee, but he wanted to face his weaknesses, and one of his weaknesses was having a decent conversation with someone that wasn’t all small talk or work talk. He knew that if he forever abandoned things that made him uncomfortable that he would never improve, but it didn’t help his sweaty palms or suddenly racing mind.

“You do not have to lose them just because you wish to pursue a different life, one without your wife by your side,” Gavin said rather quickly, afraid that he had just put the bug in Ollivander’s mind to abandon his family entirely. He found it refreshing that the older man was so forthright about not wanting to be the one under scrutiny and not just placing the entire blame on his family. He knew it was much more difficult to admit something about oneself than lumping oneself with a group. “Maybe I’m an outlier, but I think it looks better to just admit that you’ve grown apart or it’s not what you want and leave than be caught in a … erm… compromising situation with a ring on your finger,” he didn’t know a better way to say it without outright admitting that he knew what Ollivander was getting at. He knew that personally he’d rather his wife leave him than have an affair. An affair was so humiliating for everyone, and no one came out a winner. Well, maybe the person having the affair, unless they were caught. Gavin frowned as he could never imagine doing that sort of thing to anyone, but then again, he had never been in that position, nor had he ever even been in a long-term relationship. Perhaps being married years and years just made everything monotonous and boring.

Gavin actually pitied Ollivander, as to Gavin it seemed all so simple, but he knew it couldn’t be. Nothing was as simple as it seemed. “I’m sorry, I’m not a professional at knowing what it’s like to be married or a father,” he said with a small laugh, trying to ease the tension somewhat. “It has to be a lot more difficult than what I can ever imagine it to be.” He knew that his desires and dreams occasionally blinded him to the real problems that came with them, but he knew it was the same with everyone. He doubted many would go into marriage thinking that divorce or being unfaithful, and no one went into parenthood with the idea that their children could one day work against them or loathe them. If that were the case, no one would do anything, no one would ever take risks. He finished his beverage and loosely knotted his fingers together on the table. “What are your children like?” he figured that they’d probably be Gavin’s age, if not older. It bothered him a little that Ollivander believed that his children would not forgive him for admitting his faults or leaving their mother – although Gavin came from an unbroken home, he knew that his parents’ business was their business, and despite the fact that he knew it would hurt to learn of such things going on in their relationship, he doubted that he would be unable to forgive them. Of all betrayals, he knew that they could be worse. Then again, it could always be worse, and just because Gavin happened to be a forgiving person, did not mean everyone was.

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