Post by Maxwell Green on Apr 19, 2007 20:40:42 GMT -5
A tall man sat in one of the chairs nearby a long, white table. It was early morning, and really, Billie Keeng had nothing better to do than sit in the cafeteria with a bunch of young adolescent children ranging in ages from ten to seventeen and read. Looking as young as he did, he probably could've been easily mistaken for one of those adolescent children. But, alas, Billie was not a child at all, though his appearance may say otherwise. He was a teacher here, probably one of the youngest working at the school. At only the age of twenty-six, most of the other teachers would consider him to be inexperienced and immature in his line of work, but his many students normally say otherwise...
Well, mostly.
He was leaning back in his chair, something most teachers wouldn't do. Nor would they be dressed in the casual way Billie was -- with black jeans, a simple white T-shirt, and a black leather jacket along with leather boots, along with a black choker and a few other necklaces around his neck. Most of the other teachers were dressed nicely, in either dresses or a nice suit and dressy pants. Most other teachers were in their classrooms or in the faculty lounge drinking coffee and conversing leisurely.
Billie Keeng was not like most teachers.
He was a music teacher and a musician, vocalist, and actor himself, which was why he really didn't have many papers to grade. There were no papers involved in music besides the sheet music itself. Tests weren't needed, with the exception of scale quizzes that Billie had the children do on occasion, but they were less often than not. Normally, they either just played, or they sat and talked, or they did both. Either way, he tried to keep the class pretty nonchalant and easy going. Billie had that kind of personality; laid back and easy going.
He ran his right hand through his spiky, black hair, staring downward at a book he held in his lap. It was a Dean Koontz novel, something different and pretty interesting to him. So far, he was enjoying it. Billie was an avid reader, mostly of strange science fiction, horror and mystery things. Usually he had his IPod and would listen to music while reading, but today he had left it in his apartment on the charger. Ah, well. There was a computer in his class room; if he wanted to listen to music, he could do so on that. He did it every other time, anyway.
Billie was a big fan of music. Well, hopefully that was already obvious, considering he was a conductor of a high and middle school band and a music teacher. So, of course, he loved music. He wasn’t sure what he’d do without it. Heck, he wasn’t sure what the world would be like without music. Probably lost, he assumed. Half the people in the world would be lost without music, maybe even more than half. Some might even be dead. In many people’s lives, music was needed in their lives to survive. Billie Keeng was most definitely one of those people.
He looked a little bored, rocking back and forth on the back legs on the chair he was sitting in. He quite enjoyed the book he was reading, but he couldn’t get into it the way he did when he was reading it last night, perhaps because he was tired. Billie had a habit of staying up late, whether it’s because he was reading or on the computer, writing or practicing some kind of instrument. But, it always ended in him feeling drained the next morning, almost to the point where a nice, hot cup of coffee didn’t do much to help. He tried going to bed earlier a few times, but it never worked well. He was like some kind of insomniac. Ah, well. He got used to it.
He blinked a few times in attempts to wake himself up a little, but it didn’t do much. He sighed, closing the book and putting it on the table in front of him. He settled in the seat, resting it on all four of the legs instead of leaning on just two.
Well, he was a great example for the children; leather jackets, strange Dead Koontz novels, sloppy posture and insomnia. What a great role model. Ah, well. He wasn’t as odd as he appeared. Key word: as. He wasn’t as odd as he appeared. He rested his hands on the table, tapping his nails on it gently as he debated on what he should do. Maybe go get ready for his first class, but that wasn’t until around nine or so, and since it was only about seven-forty five, he was sure there wasn’t much he could do to get ready for about two hours. Maybe he could just go practice. Or go write. He mulled the ideas over in his mind, trying to settle on one thing in particular.
Well, mostly.
He was leaning back in his chair, something most teachers wouldn't do. Nor would they be dressed in the casual way Billie was -- with black jeans, a simple white T-shirt, and a black leather jacket along with leather boots, along with a black choker and a few other necklaces around his neck. Most of the other teachers were dressed nicely, in either dresses or a nice suit and dressy pants. Most other teachers were in their classrooms or in the faculty lounge drinking coffee and conversing leisurely.
Billie Keeng was not like most teachers.
He was a music teacher and a musician, vocalist, and actor himself, which was why he really didn't have many papers to grade. There were no papers involved in music besides the sheet music itself. Tests weren't needed, with the exception of scale quizzes that Billie had the children do on occasion, but they were less often than not. Normally, they either just played, or they sat and talked, or they did both. Either way, he tried to keep the class pretty nonchalant and easy going. Billie had that kind of personality; laid back and easy going.
He ran his right hand through his spiky, black hair, staring downward at a book he held in his lap. It was a Dean Koontz novel, something different and pretty interesting to him. So far, he was enjoying it. Billie was an avid reader, mostly of strange science fiction, horror and mystery things. Usually he had his IPod and would listen to music while reading, but today he had left it in his apartment on the charger. Ah, well. There was a computer in his class room; if he wanted to listen to music, he could do so on that. He did it every other time, anyway.
Billie was a big fan of music. Well, hopefully that was already obvious, considering he was a conductor of a high and middle school band and a music teacher. So, of course, he loved music. He wasn’t sure what he’d do without it. Heck, he wasn’t sure what the world would be like without music. Probably lost, he assumed. Half the people in the world would be lost without music, maybe even more than half. Some might even be dead. In many people’s lives, music was needed in their lives to survive. Billie Keeng was most definitely one of those people.
He looked a little bored, rocking back and forth on the back legs on the chair he was sitting in. He quite enjoyed the book he was reading, but he couldn’t get into it the way he did when he was reading it last night, perhaps because he was tired. Billie had a habit of staying up late, whether it’s because he was reading or on the computer, writing or practicing some kind of instrument. But, it always ended in him feeling drained the next morning, almost to the point where a nice, hot cup of coffee didn’t do much to help. He tried going to bed earlier a few times, but it never worked well. He was like some kind of insomniac. Ah, well. He got used to it.
He blinked a few times in attempts to wake himself up a little, but it didn’t do much. He sighed, closing the book and putting it on the table in front of him. He settled in the seat, resting it on all four of the legs instead of leaning on just two.
Well, he was a great example for the children; leather jackets, strange Dead Koontz novels, sloppy posture and insomnia. What a great role model. Ah, well. He wasn’t as odd as he appeared. Key word: as. He wasn’t as odd as he appeared. He rested his hands on the table, tapping his nails on it gently as he debated on what he should do. Maybe go get ready for his first class, but that wasn’t until around nine or so, and since it was only about seven-forty five, he was sure there wasn’t much he could do to get ready for about two hours. Maybe he could just go practice. Or go write. He mulled the ideas over in his mind, trying to settle on one thing in particular.
