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Voice Mail
It's Claire. Leave a message if you want.
BEEEP In creating this journal, the author has assumed the identity of a fictional person for use in the role-playing game [info]fandomhigh, for the sole purpose of entertainment, without intending to obtain a benefit or to injure or defraud either the person who created the fictional person, or any ( Read more... ) -
Room 332, Monday Morning
The problem with packing Sunday evening when the first flight back to L.A., 2002, wasn't until noon Monday was that it left you with a lot of stray time in the morning. Especially if you weren't really sleeping anyhow ( Read more... ) -
Room 332, Saturday Evening
After graduation (and promising Nate she'd meet him and David at the brunch the next morning, like their mother would let her out of it, God), Claire went back up to her dorm room, trailing a Cal. She lost her hat right after graduation, and viciously tossed her robe across her bed as soon as she got through the door of her room. Her pantyhose ( Read more... ) -
Room 332, Tuesday Morning
Claire wanted to spend as much of her week off between getting back from L.A. and graduating asleep or doing nothing as possible. She'd managed that yesterday. Today, though, a couple of birds had been screaming at the top of their lungs right outside her window. For, like, hours ( Read more... ) -
Airspace over North America, Early Sunday Afternoon
Claire had been quiet after she got back to the funeral home the day before. It might have passed as a pensive mood, but really it was Claire trying to settle in to the idea that she'd wasted a weekend in L.A. just to blubber all over the art school dean she needed to impress. So she'd forced a smile and admired the pictures of Maya and let her ( Read more... ) -
LAC-Arts, Saturday During the Day
Across L.A. County from where Cal was exploring the funeral home, Claire sat in an uncomfortable chair in the hallway outside the office of the woman she had to impress to get into LAC-Arts.
She turned her walkman up louder, trying to stop thinking about her stupid dream. She didn't even own a leotard, okay? She'd think about something different ( Read more... ) -
Room 407, Saturday Morning
The thing about waking up in Cal's room after a dance, Claire thought as she opened her eyes and sleepily looked around, was how familiar it was getting. Her dress was over the chair where she usually threw her clothes, Cal's typewriter sat at the ready on his desk, and even the clutter on Merlin's side had become a regular landmark ( Read more... ) -
Room 332, Early Tuesday Morning
Elmo had tired himself out at art club, poor little guy; after the club meeting, some handwavy dancing around the dorms, and a few stories, he said night-night to Dorothy and went to bed ( Read more... )