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| That day had been a relatively slow one for Max. Much like Nathan, the boy was in need of money. While yes, his family was well enough off to send him to Hart and take care of their oldest, for some reason he hadn’t really been getting the type of financial support he had been hoping for. Sure his parents sent him food, clothing, and a bit of spending money, but his dad for one was obsessed with self sufficiency, and refused to have his son live a life of luxury when he should be studying and getting good grades. So, like most boys his age, Max had to settle for finding a means of getting money himself without the help of his father. That morning was supposed to be completely dedicated to job searching. He had gotten up at 7 in the morning, eaten a good breakfast, grabbed his notebook and pencil, and set out to be productive. Wearing a blue t-shirt under a grey hoodie, and a pair of rather fitted faded jeans, the boy headed into to town. The entire procedure lasted a good five minutes before he got utterly distracted. Max wasn’t usually one to have his thoughts wander too often, but for some reason, the chirping birds, the sunlight, and the constant business of the street, it was hard to stay focused. Not to mention the fact that his drive to find work was admittedly pretty low. Somehow, the boy found himself on a park bench right outside a string of shops where he should have been applying. Instead, the he camped out, baby blues taking in his surroundings. Flipping open his notebook, he began to sketch a homeless man who had fallen asleep under a tree just a mere 3 yards in front of him. For Max, sketching was a form of thinking. As he drew, he could let his mind wander. His thoughts started on employment of course, however it didn’t take long for them to morph into other things. By the time he had finished his sketch, an hour had passed and he had momentarily forgotten why he had even been there in the first place. It was around this time, he spotted a familiar face strolling down the street, large aviator glasses glued to his face as usual, and the solitary expression planted on his features. Grinning, Max turned the page in his notebook and began making a quick sketch of the young man in the of a diner. Considering the speed he was going, and the half heartedness that went into it, Max had to admit that the finished product hadn’t been that bad. Standing up, he headed over to the diner, pushing open the door and walking in. Ripping the sketch out of his notebook, he set it in front of Nathaniel and smiled, ”I call it ‘The Afternoon Brooder,’” he teased, taking a seat across from his friend. |