Post by Deleted on Aug 24, 2013 0:41:08 GMT
ALEXANDER JAY GARCÍA TORRES
Full Name: Alexander Jay García Torres
Nicknames: Alex, Jaybird, Tinhead
Nicknames: Alex, Jaybird, Tinhead
Age: Eighteen
Birthdate: 20th November, 1994
Birthdate: 20th November, 1994
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Homosexual
Occupation: Waiter at a coffee shop called The Big Bean in Camden
Occupation: Waiter at a coffee shop called The Big Bean in Camden
Borough: Kensington & Chelsea
Describe yourself in one single word.
A simple exercise that I distinctly remember trying back in high school and stuff but it's a bit harder than I initially thought it would be. There's many words in the English language but it's difficult to snugly fit a whole person in two to four syllables, especially a guy like me. You could ask friends, family and acquaintances of mine for a suitable word to describe me, Alex, but I assure you they won't all be the same.
My parents would probably throw the words 'liability', 'irresponsible', 'disappointing' and 'troublemaker' about. But whatever. They're just my parents; they're meant to say shit like that. I'm pissed off with them right now anyway so I couldn't really care less about their opinions of their second son. I mean, what sort of parents ditch their flesh and blood just because he isn't doing what they wanted him to do? Okay. Fine. They didn't ditch me completely... they gave me one of those dreaded ultimatums: either I got my little, bratty ass into uni or the money tap was being turned off. By getting some stupid, commoner's waiting job at a café I made my choice pretty clear to them and dad - Alejandro Suarez - cut my (perhaps excessive) pocket money off. Buuuut... what he doesn't know is that mum - Catalina Garcia Torres - is still slipping me some pennies to, y'know, help her little baby and make sure he doesn't go hungry. Heh. Perks of having my divorced parents: they seem to think money will fix everything, y'know?
I mentioned just now being the second son in my family and, yep, I'm the youngest by two minutes and nine seconds. My brother's called Blythe Jeremías Cristobal and takes mum's surnames. He's got a hell of a long name, I don't really know what went through my parents' heads when they slapped that tongue-twister on his birth certificate. I just call him Blythie or Dot. And why 'Dot'? Only because of this weird splodge of a birthmark he has on his right butt cheek. But shhhhh... I'm not meant to let people in on that. He hates it and gripes on how there should be some other distinguishing mark to tell us apart asides from the birthmark and a scar I hide under my hair. I'll get to that bit later.
Anyway. What word would Blythe use to describe me? I bet he's got a few; the guy talks like he swallowed a dictionary most of the time. He'd maybe describe me with 'whiner', 'annoying', 'idiot', 'brat' or 'spoilt'. And that's probably as nice as it'll get. We don't get along swimmingly half of the time; we have a handful of differences that seem to make us clash more often than not and we even get into scuffles over the stupidest things. Take last week for instance: I had him by his hair and he had me by my throat over a meagre bag of popcorn. Brothers, eh? He's as childish as me behind his snobby and studious appearance so don't let him fool you.
Although I'm a bit of a social butterfly, I can't boast about having many close friends, as sad as that fucking sounds. I mean, I have my people I can count on for a crazy time at a fiesta and a couple I can call up to chill with or drag into hitting the high street with a credit card. But, yeah. They're all very false. Hell, so am I. They'd probably describe me as 'two-faced', 'fun', 'snooty', 'crazy', 'bitchy', 'sly', 'biased', 'hot-headed' and a bunch of other things that don't have to be nice. I'm not the nicest person around anyway and I'll openly admit that much, I don't have patience to put up with other people's shit and, as long as I'm having a good time, I really couldn't care what they think of me. I've used people to get what I want in the past and I don't see what's wrong in a bit of emotional blackmail or manipulating; because, like I said before, my friends aren't close friends and they're as false as me.
Okay, it probably sounds like I'm a bit hard to get along with and that's somewhat true. My snippy mouth has gotten me into more than just a couple of sticky situations and I have yet to learn from it. This is where my brother's 'fond' nickname for me - Tinhead - comes in. As you can probably tell, I lack a bit of that valuable brain-to-mouth filter and after a few drinks especially I've got the annoying tendency to speak my mind, as bitchy, judgmental, blunt or unfair the comment might be. So, like, I was in this bar in Madrid centre around about a year and a half ago and said some things I really, really shouldn't have said. What did I say exactly? I have no fucking idea but I bet it was great or horrendous or both 'cause I spent the next forever in the hospital recovering after getting titanium plates screwed into my skull. Heh. Not the best way to end a night. But Blythe's face must've been a picture on seeing his brother getting glassed right on his noggin. Okay, okay, I shouldn't joke around with this, it was serious shit - I had my head shaved and I looked like a rat until it grew over the scars, plus I set off the metal detectors in the airport without fail. Okay, seriously now. It was dangerous but... it's alright to have a laugh about it. It makes it seem less nighmarish and makes me forget how lucky I was to get off with two metal plates and a handful of scars. Oh, and the nickname 'Tinhead'.
This sort of brings me to what people I don't get along with would call me. I'll keep it PG for the reader's sake because, yeah, some people out there have a very colourful vocabulary and a grand imagination for insults. I think a few would brand me as a 'coward' though, without a doubt. It's understandable that I try to back down from physical fights - I'm a lover, not a fighter - even though it's me myself who causes the drama. Well. The only exception is Blythe. I ain't scared to give him a smack around if he tries to give me a hard time. But, yeah, I'm very wary about getting into proper fights, but that doesn't make me a coward or chicken shit. Bravery shouldn't be judged by if you're willing or not to whack a guy with your fist. Or a beer bottle. And, like, have you seen me? I'm a little bit small, a little bit skinny and a little bit pathetic. I don't even look like I'd put up much of a decent fight anyway.
Aaaand moving on to my second to favourite people. Lovers. Los amantes. I believe they'd have a couple of good things to say about me if you ignored 'unfaithful', 'high-maintenance' and (yes, again) 'spoilt' first. I haven't had not near half as many official partners as I've had friends with benefits and one night stands. I just don't really do commitment just yet - I'm only eighteen, after all - but I've given it a try in the past. It ended badly, heh. It was a guy from my high school in Spain and when I moved over to England to be with my mum for supposedly just the summer but, uh... my flesh is very weak and I think I managed to go a month before I caved for some English boy with the bluest eyes I've seen on a guy. It's partly the reason why I ended up staying in London - I couldn't bring myself to go back to Spain and risk bumping into Jaime, my ex. Anyway, again, I've gone off on some unnecessary tangent. Words, words, words. I think anyone sexually or romantically involved with me would say I'm 'enthusiastic', 'affectionate' and perhaps 'jealous'. Yes. I'm a jealous butt when I want to be. I love to feel wanted, lusted over and loved, and if there's someone else in the picture I'm not very pleased. Which, in turn, makes me quite a hypocrite since, like, I expect whoever I'm with to not bat an eye my way if I'm draped all over another guy. I'm a hypocrite, sue me.
Now. My favourite person who isn't me (duh). My Bengal cat, Loquito. A rough translation in Spanish for 'little, crazy thing'. Being an expensive pedigree, he cost me a bit of money but he's worth every cent or penny. He's got eyes green as bright emeralds and his leopard-like coat enamoured me the second I saw him as a baby kit. My parents were opposed to buying me such an expensive animal but, y'know, after some pouting, refusing to eat dinner and sad faces I got want I wanted. Mum made the excuse of 'it'll probably teach the boy some responsibility' when she bought it against my dad's wishes. Heh. Good, old mum. I guess she has kinda spoiled me some. She was the one who got me a lollypop-red Mini Cooper for my birthday and paid for the retouches it's needed in the past ten months. Let's just say... I'm not the best driver on the roads, these weird English roads. Like, why can't they drive on the right side of the road like almost the rest of the world?
Ugh, yes. I'm easily distracted, can you tell? And I can ramble the ear off anyone if given the chance. Loquito. My beautiful cat. If he could talk, he'd say that I'm 'doting', 'snuggable', 'loud' and 'protective'. I seriously do dote on that feline more than is probably normal but I can't help it; he's my best friend and the only one that'd cuddles with me on my bad days or when I get these almost blinding headaches. He's patient with me and doesn't judge my actions so long he gets a bowl of food, a bit of milk and somewhere warm to curl up. He's much nicer than most people I know, including myself. One of the things I'll say I truely fear is him disappearing and never returning, or him getting torn to bits by a rogue mutt. Unlikely but I really do hate dogs. I think I'm more scared of them than Loqui is, to be honest. But then again, I'm a bit of a scaredy-cat. The dark makes my imagination go wild and imagine things, gross bugs make me woozy, the sight of blood makes me physically sick and the thought of getting into a fight gets me shaky and weak-kneed.
I'm almost finished now, I swear. How would I describe myself in one word? I'm a lot of things but nothing seems fitting. I'm a hypocrite, a scaredy-cat, false, jealous, loving and quite theatrical. I'm a good dancer and not too shabby with a guitar. I actually want to enroll myself in a dance academy but, like... that's not what my parents want me to do. They want me to get into uni like my twin and study something useful. I don't see myself ever working a desk job or fretting over a calculator. I want to work as something fashionable, something fun and something I enjoy. Like dancing. But we'll just see where I go from here; London's got a lot to offer me yet.
Okay, seriously. If I had to describe myself with one word... I don't think I'd be able to. Unless 'sexy' counts. I'm narcissistic, preocupy myself too much with my image and if I could date myself I would.... wait. Not the best thing to say if you have a twin. Forget that. Let's just go with 'beautiful' as the word to describe myself and sign off already.
Chao~<3
OOC Name: Bluu~
How long have you been RP'ing for?: Eight years
Timezone: Usually GMT+1
Timezone: Usually GMT+1
Contact: Skype me maybe ~ (bluuiee)
Secret Answer: Rednaxela~