carleybabes
in
__vam
Short Story-"Comfortably Numb"
Anybody ever watch "The Wall"? Cause if you did, then you might have a chance in hell of understanding this one; otherwise, good luck.
Title: Comfortably Numb
Rating: resting comfortably between PG-13 and R for drug references, insanity, swearing...all that stuff.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I don't own the people or the song in this story. And obviously this never happened, or we would all know about it.
Summary:Hello? Is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can hear me. Is there anyone at home?
Notes: First of all, I am watching The Wall right now and randomly got inspired to do this. Bam doesn't really come into this too much, he's mentioned quite a few times but he never shows up. I might do a crafty sequel involving him somewhere down the line though, maybe. Secondly, any comments are appreciated and thirdly I love you all.
Is there anybody out there?
“Ville?”
Is there anybody out there?
“Ville, can you hear me?”
Is there anybody out there?
“Ville, are you there? Come on, wake up!”
Is there anybody out there?
“He’s not responding Mige. He’s not…it’s like he’s not even there.”
Hello?
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone at home?
Confusion. Much too much confusion.
There were screaming voices, prodding hands, blurred images of people dancing across his line of vision. What the hell did they want with him? Couldn’t they just see, he was done with being their pawn? He wasn’t part of this world anymore, the light was out, and nobody was home. It was all gone.
“What the hell did he take?”
More hands, trying to shake him, force him to stay awake, but fuck that. He just simply couldn’t be arsed to deal with this shit anymore. Someone was holding his eyelids open, shining a light in his eyes. Why? Why did they need him so bad?
Come on, now,
I hear you're feeling down.
Well I can ease your pain
Get you on your feet again.
Relax.
I'll need some information first.
Just the basic facts.
Can you show me where it hurts?
He had never been a normal one, really. As a child, he was the quiet one, sitting in the corner and humming tunes to himself as he stared idly at the walls for hours on end. Nobody would ever be able to get through to him when he was off “in his own little Ville World” as his mother called it. He grew out of that phase (more or less) as an adult, particularly when fame-and love-hit him. He was too busy being “Ville Valo, the Rockstar” or “Ville Valo, the boyfriend” to have the time to keep up with the little world inside of his head, and most likely that’s when things got a bit out of control.
He had a lover, with chocolate brown curls and big blue eyes. His sweet little BamBam, a child at heart…which in fact was the reason Ville loved him so. He didn’t play into the cruelness of the real world, he never grew up. He just stayed happy and true to himself , and after all the years of giving, of losing himself to the media and the music, Ville craved that quality in Bam.
But in the end, Ville sold his soul to the Devil that was Fame and paid the ultimate price: Bam. The poor little thing just couldn’t handle the ugliness of Ville’s world; the stress and the heartache and the sheer insanity of it all, and Ville came home after a three month tour (one he didn’t want to do) to find Bam gone.
Ville had been slipping before that; falling into a wasteland that was of his own choosing, but when Bam left, the safety net snapped and he went tumbling down into some kind of endless abyss. He replaced Bam with booze, whores, cocaine, self mutilation and anything else destructive he could get his hands on. The fragile state of his mind shattered like fine glass, and the false façade he had spent years building up came tumbling down, just like that. He couldn’t do it anymore; he simply couldn’t. He was tired, overworked, strung out and his mind was gone. His soul was gone.
O.K.
Just a little pinprick.
There'll be no more aaaaaaaaah!
But you may feel a little sick.
Can you stand up?
I do believe it's working, good.
That'll keep you going through the show
Come on it's time to go.
“Doctor, hurry the hell up and fix him for the show, it starts in ten minutes.”
A jab in the arm jolted him and he let loose with a bloodcurdling scream, startling the hands holding him and the voices shouting at him. The figures were moving now; speaking and before he knew it he felt strong arms pulling him up and pushing him towards the door.
“That’ll do him good for the show.”
Sick. So sick. His feet were dragging along the tile floor, and the sound was vibrating through him, making him nauseous. His head lulled back-someone help me, stop this!-and bright lights immediately exploded in his eyes. His eyelids felt like sandpaper; they weren’t closing, but they were so fucking heavy. The hallways was lasting forever. The footsteps and the lights and the grey and the shadowy figures, ushering him along…it was too much.
“I…don’t want this.”
There is no pain you are receding
A distant ship, smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying.
They started talking again, those shadows. Words, all jumbled together, making it sound foreign to his ears. The sound of a crowd approaching; was he being taken to his trial? Were they finally going to put him away, lock the door and throw away the key? Did he honestly care anymore what they did with his rotting corpse?
“It’s time for the show, Ville.”
When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye.
I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown,
The dream is gone.
Bright lights, screaming fans, loud noises. He was thrust on the stage, his true self standing there exposed before his peers, for all of them to mock. The shadows dumped his off, pushed him towards the center light, and whispered for him to perform. To give himself away to these people one last time.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught it. There was a small boy rocking to himself in the corner, humming a quite catching tune. He squinted to catch it better, but it was gone. It was all gone.
Finally he understood everything. He understood why Bam had left him, why the child within him had left as well. He sold himself to these people, to their needs and wants and wishes. He left his own little world and catered solely to theirs.
And now it was too late to get back to where he belonged.
I have become comfortably numb.
PS-Song credits go to Pink Floyd-"Comfortably Numb". ONe of the greatest Pink Floyd songs, in my opinion. If you don't know, please go check that song out!
Title: Comfortably Numb
Rating: resting comfortably between PG-13 and R for drug references, insanity, swearing...all that stuff.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I don't own the people or the song in this story. And obviously this never happened, or we would all know about it.
Summary:Hello? Is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can hear me. Is there anyone at home?
Notes: First of all, I am watching The Wall right now and randomly got inspired to do this. Bam doesn't really come into this too much, he's mentioned quite a few times but he never shows up. I might do a crafty sequel involving him somewhere down the line though, maybe. Secondly, any comments are appreciated and thirdly I love you all.
Is there anybody out there?
“Ville?”
Is there anybody out there?
“Ville, can you hear me?”
Is there anybody out there?
“Ville, are you there? Come on, wake up!”
Is there anybody out there?
“He’s not responding Mige. He’s not…it’s like he’s not even there.”
Hello?
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone at home?
Confusion. Much too much confusion.
There were screaming voices, prodding hands, blurred images of people dancing across his line of vision. What the hell did they want with him? Couldn’t they just see, he was done with being their pawn? He wasn’t part of this world anymore, the light was out, and nobody was home. It was all gone.
“What the hell did he take?”
More hands, trying to shake him, force him to stay awake, but fuck that. He just simply couldn’t be arsed to deal with this shit anymore. Someone was holding his eyelids open, shining a light in his eyes. Why? Why did they need him so bad?
Come on, now,
I hear you're feeling down.
Well I can ease your pain
Get you on your feet again.
Relax.
I'll need some information first.
Just the basic facts.
Can you show me where it hurts?
He had never been a normal one, really. As a child, he was the quiet one, sitting in the corner and humming tunes to himself as he stared idly at the walls for hours on end. Nobody would ever be able to get through to him when he was off “in his own little Ville World” as his mother called it. He grew out of that phase (more or less) as an adult, particularly when fame-and love-hit him. He was too busy being “Ville Valo, the Rockstar” or “Ville Valo, the boyfriend” to have the time to keep up with the little world inside of his head, and most likely that’s when things got a bit out of control.
He had a lover, with chocolate brown curls and big blue eyes. His sweet little BamBam, a child at heart…which in fact was the reason Ville loved him so. He didn’t play into the cruelness of the real world, he never grew up. He just stayed happy and true to himself , and after all the years of giving, of losing himself to the media and the music, Ville craved that quality in Bam.
But in the end, Ville sold his soul to the Devil that was Fame and paid the ultimate price: Bam. The poor little thing just couldn’t handle the ugliness of Ville’s world; the stress and the heartache and the sheer insanity of it all, and Ville came home after a three month tour (one he didn’t want to do) to find Bam gone.
Ville had been slipping before that; falling into a wasteland that was of his own choosing, but when Bam left, the safety net snapped and he went tumbling down into some kind of endless abyss. He replaced Bam with booze, whores, cocaine, self mutilation and anything else destructive he could get his hands on. The fragile state of his mind shattered like fine glass, and the false façade he had spent years building up came tumbling down, just like that. He couldn’t do it anymore; he simply couldn’t. He was tired, overworked, strung out and his mind was gone. His soul was gone.
O.K.
Just a little pinprick.
There'll be no more aaaaaaaaah!
But you may feel a little sick.
Can you stand up?
I do believe it's working, good.
That'll keep you going through the show
Come on it's time to go.
“Doctor, hurry the hell up and fix him for the show, it starts in ten minutes.”
A jab in the arm jolted him and he let loose with a bloodcurdling scream, startling the hands holding him and the voices shouting at him. The figures were moving now; speaking and before he knew it he felt strong arms pulling him up and pushing him towards the door.
“That’ll do him good for the show.”
Sick. So sick. His feet were dragging along the tile floor, and the sound was vibrating through him, making him nauseous. His head lulled back-someone help me, stop this!-and bright lights immediately exploded in his eyes. His eyelids felt like sandpaper; they weren’t closing, but they were so fucking heavy. The hallways was lasting forever. The footsteps and the lights and the grey and the shadowy figures, ushering him along…it was too much.
“I…don’t want this.”
There is no pain you are receding
A distant ship, smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying.
They started talking again, those shadows. Words, all jumbled together, making it sound foreign to his ears. The sound of a crowd approaching; was he being taken to his trial? Were they finally going to put him away, lock the door and throw away the key? Did he honestly care anymore what they did with his rotting corpse?
“It’s time for the show, Ville.”
When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye.
I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown,
The dream is gone.
Bright lights, screaming fans, loud noises. He was thrust on the stage, his true self standing there exposed before his peers, for all of them to mock. The shadows dumped his off, pushed him towards the center light, and whispered for him to perform. To give himself away to these people one last time.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught it. There was a small boy rocking to himself in the corner, humming a quite catching tune. He squinted to catch it better, but it was gone. It was all gone.
Finally he understood everything. He understood why Bam had left him, why the child within him had left as well. He sold himself to these people, to their needs and wants and wishes. He left his own little world and catered solely to theirs.
And now it was too late to get back to where he belonged.
I have become comfortably numb.
PS-Song credits go to Pink Floyd-"Comfortably Numb". ONe of the greatest Pink Floyd songs, in my opinion. If you don't know, please go check that song out!