ANDREWS, jude conrad.

[jude conrad andrews]

jude conrad andrews ,
^{SEVENTEEN , LOCAL , OLD SOUL .}

my mind drew a blank,
^{COULD YOU TELL ME YOUR NAME, HON?}

my full name is jude conrad davies. i never really had any nicknames, because what can you really make out of jude besides ju-ju? i don't like that one, so i just go by jude. my parents had an unconventional way of naming me. my dad knew for sure he wanted to name me after his favorite song by his favorite musician, and that happened to be the beatles. he couldn't pick a song, though, so he flipped over his greatest hits cd, closed his eyes, and let his finger pick a song. a few times it landed on "hello goodbye", but you can't really name your kid that. he was going to name me paul or john after paul mccartney or john lennon, but luckily enough on this fifth try he landed on the song "hey jude". thus, my first name. i'm glad i'm named after that song, it's one of my favorite to this day. my middle name, conrad, came from my mom. she's a big literature buff and she read the book "heart of darkness" by joseph conrad and decided to give me that middle name so i would be thoughtful and thorough just like that author. my last name is andrews, which isn't anything really special i suppose.

are you legal drinking age,
^{COULD I SEE SOME SORT OF IDENTIFICATION?}

i was born on december 9th. i'm 17 years old as of now. one more year, and i can officially drive and be considered an adult! it's weird how things are different here in europe, i'll never be used to the system i swear. i don't know what to feel about my age, really. i'm just 17. it's okay, i guess. i don't really stop to think about it that much. it's nice being born in winter, i really like the snow. i appreciate the month of december for various reasons, but my birthday makes me appreciate it that much more. i like the snow because it has good memories attached to it in my mind.

what makes you really happy,
^{WHAT BRINGS A SMILE TO LIGHT UP YOUR FACE?}

music, vintage, elvis costello, elvis prestley, the beatles, guitar, piano, drums, goofing off with friends, girls, having a good time, having peace of mind, going to a good show, writing songs, singing, being outdoors, playing soccer and baseball, daydreaming, helping people out, doing well in everything, focusing and accomplishing his goals, being number one, performing his music, starbucks drinks, glam rock, being in charge, excelling, love, being humble, learning new things, trying new things, making a name for himself, working hard, physics.

what makes you sad or mad,
^{NO ONE WANTS TO SEE OR BE ON YOUR BAD SIDE?}

judgmental people, people who hate loud music, wannabe punk-pop emo bands, criticism of my music, not having anything to do, not being number one, being second best, people who coin me as the wannabe sensitive musician who acts mysterious, being alone for extended periods of time, people who are nosy about me or my life, the swings that come with having diabetes, taking in insulin, murder, laziness, getting nothing done.

they say that love is a battlefield,
^{HOW'S YOUR WAR GOING, WHAT HAPPENED SO FAR?}

war? i like that, it sums it up pretty well. i've always been a little bit more on the quiet side, and i prefer to blend in unless i'm on stage, which is what i really love. that's why i'm not really getting all the girls, or whatever. i don't put myself int hat position. i'm straight, by the way; i'm not sure if that has any significance to you, just thought i'd throw it out there. anyway, i'm single right now.. i think. i had a girlfriend for a while, her name was savanna and i thought that she was it. i'm a one girl type of guy, and she pretty much seemed like the girl, you know? but she left suddenly about a year ago and that pretty much crushed my heart into dust, so i'm laying low on the dating scene. i still love her, even though she left without a word. love sucks.

everyone has a crazy secret,
^{WHAT GOSSIP DO YOU HAVE HIDDEN FROM US?}

well, it's not really a secret, but i have type 1 diabetes. i was diagnosed with it when i was 10, and i've been living with it ever since. it's not as bad as it could be, i'm grateful for my health as it is. i'm not really a secretive person.. well, i did start to sleep with savanna, my ex-girlfriend, just a year ago. we were too young, and i know it now. i don't really brag about that.

its a scary world out there,
^{WHAT'S GOT YOU QUAKING IN YOUR BOOTS?}

i'm scared of murder. i think that one's pretty explanatory, as my father was murdered about 3 years ago. i'm also afraid that all my effort will end up going nowhere. i work so hard, and i can see it easily going up in smoke. i'm scared of being alone, as ridiculous as that sounds. there's just something about me that doesn't want to be alone. i can't really explain it. i'm scared of heights, i always have been and now that it's part of what killed my father, it just reinforces any qualms i had about it. i'm scared of the dark a little bit, still. i'm also scared for the future, because i don't know what's next and i hate that - i'm a guy with a plan, if i don't know what i'm doing then i get shaky. i'm scared of my diabetes, even if it's manageable. i don't want it to bring me down or stop me from reaching my goal. the highs and lows get pretty bad sometimes, so i don't know what's coming. the best i can do is try to be strong. i'm not interested in fear, but it hounds me anyway.

did you ever play soccer as a kid,
^{YOU SEEM TO KEEP GOALS IN MIND, IS THAT TRUE?}

my goal is my music. that's the only thing that keeps me moving, keeps me breathing. it's the first and deepest love of my life. if i'm playing guitar, piano, drums, or singing, then i'm happy. i love to write songs, i love to compose them, and i like to make people smile by getting on stage and being me. music is the universal language, and i'm glad i'm learning as much of it as i can now. besides making it big somehow in the industry, i also want to go to university to pursue physics. i don't know what kind specifically yet, but it's my favorite subject and the one i do the best in besides math.

no one wants to talk about 'em,
^{BUT HOW'S THE FAMILY GETTING ALONG THESE DAYS?}

alright. well my mom's name is denise andrews, and she's the nicest woman you could ever meet. she cooks amazing food and she always knows what to say. i'd be pretty much lost without her in my life. my father passed away 3 years ago, and it still kind of hurts to talk about him. his name was simon andrews, and he was the owner of a fledgling record label. he was the one who really started my love of music. we were a pretty happy family, i'll tell you that much - i'm an only child, but i never minded it. in fact, you could say it suited me. i was a quiet, unassuming baby, or so i'm told. my childhood was pretty normal, nothing traumatizing or otherwise noteworthy. i grew older, and my interest in physics wasn't that high at the time. i was more keyed into my music, guitar and piano being my first loves, and drums making a strong second. we used to live in new york, new york - that's where i'm originally from. my dad was walking home one day, when he realized he'd left something at the office. he went back to get it, and his office in the building was at the very top floor because he's the boss. even though the label didn't make a lot of money since he'd just started it, it was there and we were doing fine. anyway, the place was robbed that night and my dad was held at gunpoint. after the robber took all my dad's money, he backed him against a window and then shot him seven times. the theif thought it would be funny to toss my dad's body out the window, like some sick marker. needless to say the cops found him, and he's sentenced to death row. i don't know how i feel about a life for a life, but he took my idol from me. it hurts. i was at the scene of the crime, even though i was just 14, and i was curious in the midst of my grief. how did my father fall? exactly how did my father's body arc? how fast did it take for him to hit the ground? what was the force of the impact? physics. physics had all the answers. i quickly progressed in the subject, surpassing my classmates. i have a drive, a hunger to learn physics. not only do i love it, it helps me understand what happened to my dad. it gives me a little bit of closure. for that i'm dedicated to it. my mom was overcome by sorrow so she packed us up and moved us to paris, of all things - she thought it would be best to get out of the country. it's working - the healing is slow but i feel a little better every day. i've been here for about 2 years now, as we moved when i was 15. i speak french pretty well and i get by on what i do know, so i can't complain. money can get tight, but my dad left us a good amount and we make ends meet. all in all, i can't complain. it's me and my mom now and i can't change it, but it's alright.

now that we covered the agenda,
^{IS THERE ANYTHING I MISSED OR LEFT FOR YOU TO ADD?}

no, you were pretty thorough. thanks, though.

hey, what's up hot mess? i'm KIKI. i'm pretty cool because i've been doing this for AS LONG AS THE DINOSAURS ROAMED THE EARTH. and i'm only 17/18-ish! anway, i can't wait to get started, i've even read the rules. i can prove it: BOP BOP BOP, BOP TO THE TOP! i can be contacted by PM/MSN, and i love using NICK JONAS as my character. hopefully, i'll see you soon.

Except for the occasional loud car horn in the distance or the sound of tires on the asphalt, it was peaceful. Max leaned back deeply into the wood of the bench, the corners of his lips turning up ever so slightly. Call him old-fashioned, but he really did enjoy the simple pleasures in life. Central Park was one of the few places inside the city where there was a bit of grass, and he appreciated the break in the concrete. He tried to come down to the park whenever he had the chance, but going out in the daylight was never a good idea. Maxwell always seemed to cause some kind of commotion, even though that was the last thing that he wanted. In the dark blanket of the night, he was invisible. He was just like anyone else. Smoke curled out from the crevices of his lips and was tugged away by the cool night breeze, a dim orange light coming from the end of the cigarette. Sometimes, he needed breaks like this in his life. When other students saw him at school, they immediately assumed things about him that were completely untrue. They thought his life was glamorous, but it was far from it.

He was busy all the time. Having been born into such a lifestyle, of course he had adjusted, but it was as though he never had a spare moment to breathe. Max's father, Paul Clarke, was the owner of a very prominent record label in New York City named after him. Clarke Records was a big deal, as it had produced hits for big names like Coldplay and Beyonce. His mother Denise had been a TV personality in her day, hosting her own talk show and a cooking program on the FoodNetwork. It was only natural that people wanted to follow them around, and they were even more interested in their children. The Clarke boys happened to be good-looking, so the teen magazines leeched onto that and sent their paparazzi after Freddie and Max. While his older brother basked in the sunlight, Max did his best to stay out of it. Why should he be on the cover of bubblegum pop magazines? He hadn't done anything worthy of the name that he'd been given. Sometimes he wished that he wasn't born into such a well-known family, so that he could actually work to get somewhere. Even though music was his passion and he wanted to record, he felt like people would judge him and think it was easier for him since his dad owned an entire company.

All day, every day, he was either hiding from paparazzi or fending off the adoring girls at school. At times, he became irritable and snappish in the hopes that he would be left alone, but there was nothing he could do to deter his 'fans'. He hated to think what it would be like after he recorded and released a few demos that he'd been working on. Max just wanted to be treated like a normal teenager, instead of always trying to dodge out of the spotlight. He had too many things to do like sports and music and homework, to be bogged down by a fancy life. Of course, he was grateful for what he had, but he didn't revel in it. He dressed modestly, and he never came to school in a superbly ostentatious car. Maxwell loved the days where he could have some peace, and this was one of them. He tapped the ashes from the cigarette and lifted it back to his mouth, full of thought. He was a pensive sort of a young man; his brow was beginning to furrow a little with the intensity of his thought.

Inevitably, his thoughts went back to the girl he was waiting on. Savannah Munroe was hardly just any girl, thought. Whenever he thought of her, he felt a slight burning in his veins that he couldn't get rid of. Maybe it was just teenage lust, or maybe it was the fact that every little thing she did drove him crazy. She was so easy to be around, with her big bright smile and her wide blue eyes. They were affectionate with each other for the most part, and although he pretended like he was against PDA, he was definitely the one to hug her and tug her along by the hand. The way he acted toward her, people thought that they were going out. Maxwell wouldn't mind that at all, he just wasn't the type to rush things. He believed that good things took time, and he wasn't opposed to waiting. He did get a little lonely at times, but it wasn't like he couldn't handle it. Together, they were quite the handsome pair, though; his mother liked to hint at it whenever Savannah happened to be at his house.

Maxwell chuckled to himself and took another drag, the smoke coming out through his nose this time. At first it had taken him a while to get used to the sensation, but now it was second nature to him. He really knew that he shouldn't smoke since it could only complicate things with his diabetes, but once he started he just couldn't stop. Something about the smell and the motion comforted him, so he just did it. Apparently it made him all the more sexier, because the fangirls went on and on about it. Max turned his head slightly when he heard approaching footsteps, his eyebrows quirked and his brown eyes searching the pathway ahead. He recognized the slim figure when it was closer, and he stood up from the bench with a close-lipped smile on his handsome face. It took a lot for him to smile with his teeth, mainly because he wasn't big on the gesture in the first place. "You made it, slowpoke," he teased, his eyes scanning her familiar face. "You look great, as usual." He stepped forward to give her a warm hug, liking the feeling of her body against his and hoping she didn't mind his smell. It was a mixture of cologne and cigarette smoke, which some people found incredibly appealing.

Without further ado he put his cigarette in his mouth, took her hand in his and started tugging her back toward the main intersection so they could make their way to the supposed party. "C'mon, we've got a party to catch." His words were slightly mumbled, as they were spoken around his cigarette, but it was clear enough for her to understand. Maxwell slowed his pace just a little so she could catch up to his side, visibly happier now that she was there with him.

template made by cammi. but she did base it slightly on
kari's template from goodbye is a second chance. thnks!
stealing is mean. i promise i'll hunt you down if you steal.

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