opalescent
in
__vam
(no subject)
Title: Like Fireflies.
Pairing: VAM (with hinted past dugera).
Summery: Bam is starting fresh in london after his best friend dies, where he meets a man with firefly eyes.
01 || 02
THREE
Everything whirled around me, buildings blurred out, people rushed by. Everything was now in super speed. I felt anxious, but didn't know why. I felt myself being knocked over as I tried rushing through the late night crowd of people. I stayed on the ground, not bothering to get up right away. I pushed my back against a brick wall and pulled my knees to my chest. Everything here was harsh and necessary. Back in West Chester things were mild, contained. But here everyone seemed to be living as if they were going to die the next day. The lights were too bright, too much.
I came to London looking to be anyone but myself; searching for a life where I could forget Ryan's death and my distance with the world. There's detachment laced in these veins, heartache flowing in them. I pulled at my hair and looked up at the sky. Dark, slate-grey clouds were looming over the blue sky now. I ached in places I never knew could ache. My neck still burned and begged. I finally got up off the ground and began my journey home.
There was that certain ringing hanging above me, mingling with the stale air that surrounded everything. Floated on like it wasn't ruining the night. The feeling of emptiness, of loneliness, it got pushed on me, forced me to the ground. As I walked it began to rain, and though rain usually cleanses, usually begins something new, it didn't this time. Perhaps the smell wasn't quite the same, mind you the stale presence still lingered. The feel of it hitting my bare arms didn't feel revitalizing, didn't welcome as it had before. I felt as if I were in a song, maybe a country one, where everything seemed empty and the rain was a symbol of just how dreary I had become within these days.
Everything pounded, my heart, my head and the rain. They were not synchronized, but made a withering beat that didn't feel home-made and beautiful. I've wanted to feel organic for quite some time now, on my own and free, but I didn't think anybody would understand this. How could anyone really know whats going on inside of me? I can't, or won't... these run together so I'm not sure which is which anymore... tell anyone whats wrong. I won't open up. Maybe I do feel the need to, but something is there, blocking the truth... or maybe I just don't want to flat out tell anyone. Maybe I hide it all away because maybe I'm too detached for friendships, relationships... I don't know. I'm not quite certain of my identity; who London has made me this past year. What Ryan's death has taken from me had changed me, but London didn't help me find who I was again.
I feel as though I'm a stranger to myself. I'm terrified to be alone with me. It's funny in an ironic way. I like being left alone, but I fear it. I fear what I'll do to myself. It's like if I get too lonely will I punch the wall, break some knuckles, and try and forget that this kind of pain could never replace the real kind that lies within me.
I walk on and I feel as though I'm being followed, but see nobody when I look behind me. The feeling begins to send shivers down my spine. I turn towards my road and follow it, the street lamps making everything eerie and very unwelcoming. I push my hands into my pockets, feeling the cold change jingle against my knuckles. I usually always bring change with me wherever I go; it was a habit that had been impressed on me by my mother.
"Bring change everywhere with you, just in case you need to call me or want to come back home."
I, at first, laughed a little at her, but now I can't leave the house without a few dollars in change to call back home.
I asked Ape once what life was about.
"Love," she instantly answered.
"Yes, but what is love about?"
This one took a bit longer to answer. She frowned in thought before replying, "Safety."
I remember I had shaken my head and said that love couldn't just be about that.
But now I realize that maybe she was right. With Ryan I had safety, security. I knew that nothing could go wrong if I was with him. Now look at me. Walking down deserted streets to my expensive apartment that I've not yet made a home, though it's been a year.
The elevator was filled with people; I didn't bother looking at them. I just watched the floor numbers change. The dings reminded me of cooking, and I briefly remembered Ape's eggs and waffles. I pushed myself out the open elevator door and trudged down the hallway to number 7. When I opened the door, I found the phone ringing in the far corner of the room.
"Hello?" I said picking it up off the receiver, lightly holding it in my hand.
"Bam! Hey, it's Novak.."
My heart sank and I gripped the phone as tightly as possible. "Whats up?" I asked.
"We miss you. How's life without is in London? We haven't heard from you in months."
"Uh... yeah, I've been busy, getting stuff down. It's good though..." I lied. In truth, I'd done nothing.
"Well, you should come home for a visit or let us come there. Everyones so quiet here without you.."
"Yeah..." I said lowly. "Listen, it's like... 3am here so I'm gonna crash for the night."
"Yeah, alright. Call us soon."
"Bye."
And I hung up without waiting for his goodbye, or talking to my mother.
That was intense, I thought. Out of the blue "I miss you"'s from old friends that won't fade away. It's horrible, I know, to wish them away for good. But's it's too hard to see them, talk to them, or think of them. It's too hard remember Ryan. I came here to move on, so this was the first step. I had to cut out the memories. The ties. The heartache.
I began pulling out my dark green blanket from the closet and unfolding it onto the couch to sleep when I heard a knocking at the door. At first I wasn't going to open it because of how late it was, but I felt a pull in my abdomen that urged me to move forward and answer it.
I pulled the door towards me, opening it.
"Hello." The man from the dance was standing in front of me.
Before I could respond his lips were on mine and the door was shut behind him.
Review, please.
Pairing: VAM (with hinted past dugera).
Summery: Bam is starting fresh in london after his best friend dies, where he meets a man with firefly eyes.
01 || 02
THREE
Everything whirled around me, buildings blurred out, people rushed by. Everything was now in super speed. I felt anxious, but didn't know why. I felt myself being knocked over as I tried rushing through the late night crowd of people. I stayed on the ground, not bothering to get up right away. I pushed my back against a brick wall and pulled my knees to my chest. Everything here was harsh and necessary. Back in West Chester things were mild, contained. But here everyone seemed to be living as if they were going to die the next day. The lights were too bright, too much.
I came to London looking to be anyone but myself; searching for a life where I could forget Ryan's death and my distance with the world. There's detachment laced in these veins, heartache flowing in them. I pulled at my hair and looked up at the sky. Dark, slate-grey clouds were looming over the blue sky now. I ached in places I never knew could ache. My neck still burned and begged. I finally got up off the ground and began my journey home.
There was that certain ringing hanging above me, mingling with the stale air that surrounded everything. Floated on like it wasn't ruining the night. The feeling of emptiness, of loneliness, it got pushed on me, forced me to the ground. As I walked it began to rain, and though rain usually cleanses, usually begins something new, it didn't this time. Perhaps the smell wasn't quite the same, mind you the stale presence still lingered. The feel of it hitting my bare arms didn't feel revitalizing, didn't welcome as it had before. I felt as if I were in a song, maybe a country one, where everything seemed empty and the rain was a symbol of just how dreary I had become within these days.
Everything pounded, my heart, my head and the rain. They were not synchronized, but made a withering beat that didn't feel home-made and beautiful. I've wanted to feel organic for quite some time now, on my own and free, but I didn't think anybody would understand this. How could anyone really know whats going on inside of me? I can't, or won't... these run together so I'm not sure which is which anymore... tell anyone whats wrong. I won't open up. Maybe I do feel the need to, but something is there, blocking the truth... or maybe I just don't want to flat out tell anyone. Maybe I hide it all away because maybe I'm too detached for friendships, relationships... I don't know. I'm not quite certain of my identity; who London has made me this past year. What Ryan's death has taken from me had changed me, but London didn't help me find who I was again.
I feel as though I'm a stranger to myself. I'm terrified to be alone with me. It's funny in an ironic way. I like being left alone, but I fear it. I fear what I'll do to myself. It's like if I get too lonely will I punch the wall, break some knuckles, and try and forget that this kind of pain could never replace the real kind that lies within me.
I walk on and I feel as though I'm being followed, but see nobody when I look behind me. The feeling begins to send shivers down my spine. I turn towards my road and follow it, the street lamps making everything eerie and very unwelcoming. I push my hands into my pockets, feeling the cold change jingle against my knuckles. I usually always bring change with me wherever I go; it was a habit that had been impressed on me by my mother.
"Bring change everywhere with you, just in case you need to call me or want to come back home."
I, at first, laughed a little at her, but now I can't leave the house without a few dollars in change to call back home.
I asked Ape once what life was about.
"Love," she instantly answered.
"Yes, but what is love about?"
This one took a bit longer to answer. She frowned in thought before replying, "Safety."
I remember I had shaken my head and said that love couldn't just be about that.
But now I realize that maybe she was right. With Ryan I had safety, security. I knew that nothing could go wrong if I was with him. Now look at me. Walking down deserted streets to my expensive apartment that I've not yet made a home, though it's been a year.
The elevator was filled with people; I didn't bother looking at them. I just watched the floor numbers change. The dings reminded me of cooking, and I briefly remembered Ape's eggs and waffles. I pushed myself out the open elevator door and trudged down the hallway to number 7. When I opened the door, I found the phone ringing in the far corner of the room.
"Hello?" I said picking it up off the receiver, lightly holding it in my hand.
"Bam! Hey, it's Novak.."
My heart sank and I gripped the phone as tightly as possible. "Whats up?" I asked.
"We miss you. How's life without is in London? We haven't heard from you in months."
"Uh... yeah, I've been busy, getting stuff down. It's good though..." I lied. In truth, I'd done nothing.
"Well, you should come home for a visit or let us come there. Everyones so quiet here without you.."
"Yeah..." I said lowly. "Listen, it's like... 3am here so I'm gonna crash for the night."
"Yeah, alright. Call us soon."
"Bye."
And I hung up without waiting for his goodbye, or talking to my mother.
That was intense, I thought. Out of the blue "I miss you"'s from old friends that won't fade away. It's horrible, I know, to wish them away for good. But's it's too hard to see them, talk to them, or think of them. It's too hard remember Ryan. I came here to move on, so this was the first step. I had to cut out the memories. The ties. The heartache.
I began pulling out my dark green blanket from the closet and unfolding it onto the couch to sleep when I heard a knocking at the door. At first I wasn't going to open it because of how late it was, but I felt a pull in my abdomen that urged me to move forward and answer it.
I pulled the door towards me, opening it.
"Hello." The man from the dance was standing in front of me.
Before I could respond his lips were on mine and the door was shut behind him.
Review, please.