He knew she was coming.
It had been mentioned and planned and brought up on nearly every call, and still the knowledge of actually having a date that his sister would arrive fucked everything up.
Bo says that he is excited and chatters on about the plans that he will include Oscar in if able too. But the consideration of how much he would enjoy his time with both his sister and husband bounced back and forth in his mind.
It was entirely his fault that Mel was not aware of his current three limbed life. She was a busy business woman, and when he had had his accident she was on her way to runn
“Breathe Bowie.” Oscar is reassuring, his eyes lock with Bo’s in the window glass. “You’ve got this.”Bo nods, his hands shaking as he attempts to tie his tie properly. He smooths out the lapels relaxing ever so slightly as Oscar sets both his hands on his shoulders. He takes a deep breath. “I know.” He repeats the two words two more times.“Hey, hey. You know this inside out, no matter what they say to you, everything will be alright.”Bo could not be sure if he believed the man, but he nodded nonetheless.They had only been waiting for twenty minutes, but with every second that passed Bo couldn’t help but wonder if all
The Board of Directors had spoken briefly to each other before the entrance of Doctor Bradley Jones.It had not been brief, but rather long term and over dramatic.The head, Maria Merrywether had run the hospital for the last nine years. It had been her decision to offer the position of Assistant Head of Pediatrics to Doctor Jones, and it had been the best one yet in her position.She had seen the bias that many of her associates had taken towards the doctor and decided to ignore it, seeking the best position possible for him and noticing almost immediately how well suited he was for Bellevue Hospital.It had been his decision to start a program in Africa as well as South America, and it had been his quick work that saved the lives of so many young children that had made
A celebration was in store, this was decided by Oscar the moment the pair stepped outside of the hospital.And a celebration that it was.Oscar treated Bo to a dinner at the taller man’s favorite restaurant, a small pizza place on the corner of seventh and twenty two. Bo had been predictable, his choice of cheese pizza and a Dr. Pepper alongside a slice of cheesecake, Oscar followed suit.Bo had not been very verbal, but Oscar did not mind. He had enough to talk about with small comments from the taller man when he could reply.When Oscar and Bo arrived back at the home, the man was much more touchy than usual. He very rarely let his hands wander away from Oscar, his hands trailing up and down the smaller man’s waist and back, revelling in the way that he cou
Bradley Oliver Jones, "Bo" to his friends, was only thirteen when he first stepped foot onto the Broadway Stage, the Imperial Theatre his new home for the next eighteen wonderful months as he preformed the role of "Gavroche." A boy who uses his wits to survive on the streets of Paris in the midst of a war.Fifteen years of his life was dedicated to the stage, every breath, every tear, every preformance he left the smallest piece of his soul on stage. Finding comfort in the impracticality of the life, making his small fortune in well placed stock buying and selling.It was gone in an instant.The world he had grown up in suddenly so far from his grasps, he tumbled to the ground, a well remembered token of the Broadway community 'gone to soon.'But he didn't go anywhere.Eighteen years after his original Broadway debut, and two years after falling of the hypothetical Broadway map, Bo is working on his first album, a testimant to how his struggles hav
Bradley Oliver JonesBo, Bowie, Oliver, Oli.28 years oldFebruary 9th, 1985Occupation: Broadway Performer (previously), Composer, Musician, Writer.6 ft, 1 inDark Brown hairDark Blue eyesFlying Dumbo tattoo on upper fore
Oscar-Michael TorresOzzie.31 years oldJanuary 16th, 1982Occupation: Broadway Performer, Composer, Musician, Writer.5 ft, 8 inDark Brown hairDark Brown eyesTiny coffee cup tattoo on wrist, microphone on shoulder.
There is an art to wandering.To become a part of the crowd without really being there.
Sleep was rare on most nights.Bo found the silence of the apartment much too loud, if that could even make sense. The way each creak of the floorboard seemed to be a ghost making its way down the hallway, the echoing sounds of the City just as haunting.The nightmares of his car accident had faded, though the missing indentation in his bed could sometimes bring them back.Too much of one noise and Bo would be trapped in a loop, a never ending cycle that turned the world upside down and left him stuck wondering which way was up.He often dreamed good dreams, of Broadway Stages and an unrecognized face telling him that everything would be alright. Though Bo found the most hope in the dreamless nights, in the way that his vision would fade to black and then it would be suddenly morning. Lights streaming in crooked through the curtains that he could never quite get closed all the way, the smell of the morning in the air.But that would not be this night.He had tried for hours to fall asl