Muse | CHAPTER ONE.
Title: Muse.
Author: alltimepotter / Ryden.
Pairing: Jalex.
Rating: PG-13, for now.
Warnings: Nothing yet.
Summary: Aspiration without inspiration, like Alex without Jack, is clearly an issue.
Notes: Uh, first Jalex story. It's short, sorry, but if people do like this, I'll make the chapters way longer. I'm tempted to say, "It gets better", but my lack of confidence is telling me to just shut up and let you decide.
MASTERPOST.
Previously chained elaborations fell limp, reluctantly descending in each scattered memory, withering in the remaining evident emotions that were consumed by the brisk silence and unsaid, infamous words. The once vivid surface of his muse idly dissolved into a black and white silhouette. He steadied his wavering elbow, rolling his bottom lip under his top lip as he scribbled over the illegible phrases he had imprinted onto the paper. Many people had crowded him the entire night, occupying his small capacity and tolerance for company. He wanted to yell, he wanted to whisper, he ached for something - anything - to escape his mouth, but nothing did. It wasn't supposed to result in such an incomprehensible and disorganized manor. His muse was expected to stay present, keep him fanatical and eager for a blank surface and any source of ink. Recently, it had been wilting and decreasing in size until he couldn't string any relevant thoughts together. Aspiration without inspiration didn't serve any significance, let alone assemble a song with eloquent and solemn lyrics. The swift and defiant departure of Jack Barakat was all it took for Alex Gaskarth to split into an abundance of fractured glass.
"Want one?" The Coors Light, in Rian's hand, gingerly swayed, upon being dropped in the jaded songwriter's lap.
Alex hastily propped open the can's tab, raising the opening to his gradually parted lips. No quantity could restore him; his insides were hollowed out, emptiness brewing. He was tragically taken as an indifferent, stone-eyed jack-o-lantern and everything that once held him together was extracted, just as dramatically. One block had been removed from the sky scraping tower, forcing an excruciating fall until only emptiness dared to enter the endangered and broken capacity.
Concern reflected in Rian's fawn eyes, his eyebrows knitting towards the center of his forehead as he squeezed his friend's shoulder. "Alex, there's no point in restricting and isolating yourself, 'cause he made a mistake. He'll come back."
The brunette practically spat out his few sentences, bitterness laced in every, single word. "I highly doubt that, his head's too high up in the clouds for him to come down and risk his dignity. He doesn't care about anyone but himself."
"He is pretty tall.." He trailed off, shortly realizing his jab at humor or a lighter subject was a long shot.
"Asshole, I'm being serious here. I don't think he's coming back, and if he does, it's not going to be for long." If there was one thing Alex knew about people, it was that they were like deadly slow boomerangs, even worse, wandering kites; guided by the somber wind and vowing to never return.
The drummer pressed his lips into a thin line, before squeezing his friend's shoulder again and heading towards a different group of people. Although the elder left without a word, Alex could feel his judgement, just the same. He could hear everyone else's judgements and harsh criticism too, even if it was untouchable and inaudible, the rims of his ears burned crimson with annoyance. He glanced at the inferior lyrics he had scribbled over, before deciding to toss the crippled paper out and attempt to make a decent song, another time.
_______________
Narcissistic. Egotistical. Asshole. Sellout. At some point, I heard all of those and more. I didn't chew on those words, for longer than two seconds, nor pay any excess attention to who said it. I guess, in a one-sided and unfair angle, I kind of did deserve it. You may believe that it shouldn't have hurt me as much because really, they're just words. Letters stringed together to form some sort of meaning, some form of communication. Simple. But in my case, the formation was beyond that, they were constant reminders of how I reduced my standards and morals because I couldn't take even the smallest leap of faith. I believed some would be forever etched inside, threaded tightly around the wires that bind me, but otherwise, left unnoticed. It seemed too late, to go back and untie all of those words and alter the outcome. Partially, because I had taken guitar lessons instead of becoming a Boy Scout, but mostly because I lost the one thing that ever mattered. The one person that ever mattered. Without that person, I couldn't care less about how my life decided to pan out. It was that obscure yet translucent line of hope that told me to fight for him. I didn't try anything right away, because I fucked things up before, I fucked a lot of things up and I was running out of chances. However, a million feet below, huddled around my core, I knew it would always be him. I knew what he was, all along.
Tragic, me? Never.
The slightest mention of him perked my ears up and demanded my undivided attention. It was a known fact that I was in love with him, no matter how long it took me to finally admit it... out loud. Everyone acted as if I was a walking hazard, only speaking when spoken to or when desperately needed. They acted as if I was some wicked puppet master, and they, my puppets, but the one thing they never knew, was that the idea of me being in charge was a complete contradiction. I was the one attached to an infinite amount of string, I was the one who was to obey and not utter a single word. All that was expected of me, was to sing, smile and pretend that every second a camera neared my face or a spotlight was focused on me, was the best second I ever had. Truth was, the seconds I had far away from society and close to Jack, were the ones that I truly enjoyed. What intrigued me about him was how he'd effortlessly morph my mood into one I could deal with and he abided all of my bullshit because he honestly believed in me, because he could see something special that I was oblivious of. He accepted every damned flaw and imperfection, he was evolved, he didn't judge others for who they were.
I corrupted him. I corrupted that perfectly innocent and brilliant mind of his, with my pessimistic and merciless ways. I was responsible for him leaving. I was responsible for all of the reasons he had against me and I couldn't blame him. I couldn't see things through the same eyes he had - promise coruscated in burnt-sienna orbs -, I couldn't have tolerated everything he did. I couldn't love life and every dent in the road. I couldn't love exploring untested waters. I couldn't love being patient. I couldn't love experiencing every wild thought I had. I couldn't love not having him by my side. The one thing I could do was try.
Every last inch of my sanity kept me going, every impulse and glimpse of him living in my arms reminded me of why a future without him wasn't worth living.
His infectious laughter filled my body, his smooth lips melted my skin, his velvet words controlled my mind. He was my muse and I was nothing without my muse.
Author: alltimepotter / Ryden.
Pairing: Jalex.
Rating: PG-13, for now.
Warnings: Nothing yet.
Summary: Aspiration without inspiration, like Alex without Jack, is clearly an issue.
Notes: Uh, first Jalex story. It's short, sorry, but if people do like this, I'll make the chapters way longer. I'm tempted to say, "It gets better", but my lack of confidence is telling me to just shut up and let you decide.
MASTERPOST.
Previously chained elaborations fell limp, reluctantly descending in each scattered memory, withering in the remaining evident emotions that were consumed by the brisk silence and unsaid, infamous words. The once vivid surface of his muse idly dissolved into a black and white silhouette. He steadied his wavering elbow, rolling his bottom lip under his top lip as he scribbled over the illegible phrases he had imprinted onto the paper. Many people had crowded him the entire night, occupying his small capacity and tolerance for company. He wanted to yell, he wanted to whisper, he ached for something - anything - to escape his mouth, but nothing did. It wasn't supposed to result in such an incomprehensible and disorganized manor. His muse was expected to stay present, keep him fanatical and eager for a blank surface and any source of ink. Recently, it had been wilting and decreasing in size until he couldn't string any relevant thoughts together. Aspiration without inspiration didn't serve any significance, let alone assemble a song with eloquent and solemn lyrics. The swift and defiant departure of Jack Barakat was all it took for Alex Gaskarth to split into an abundance of fractured glass.
"Want one?" The Coors Light, in Rian's hand, gingerly swayed, upon being dropped in the jaded songwriter's lap.
Alex hastily propped open the can's tab, raising the opening to his gradually parted lips. No quantity could restore him; his insides were hollowed out, emptiness brewing. He was tragically taken as an indifferent, stone-eyed jack-o-lantern and everything that once held him together was extracted, just as dramatically. One block had been removed from the sky scraping tower, forcing an excruciating fall until only emptiness dared to enter the endangered and broken capacity.
Concern reflected in Rian's fawn eyes, his eyebrows knitting towards the center of his forehead as he squeezed his friend's shoulder. "Alex, there's no point in restricting and isolating yourself, 'cause he made a mistake. He'll come back."
The brunette practically spat out his few sentences, bitterness laced in every, single word. "I highly doubt that, his head's too high up in the clouds for him to come down and risk his dignity. He doesn't care about anyone but himself."
"He is pretty tall.." He trailed off, shortly realizing his jab at humor or a lighter subject was a long shot.
"Asshole, I'm being serious here. I don't think he's coming back, and if he does, it's not going to be for long." If there was one thing Alex knew about people, it was that they were like deadly slow boomerangs, even worse, wandering kites; guided by the somber wind and vowing to never return.
The drummer pressed his lips into a thin line, before squeezing his friend's shoulder again and heading towards a different group of people. Although the elder left without a word, Alex could feel his judgement, just the same. He could hear everyone else's judgements and harsh criticism too, even if it was untouchable and inaudible, the rims of his ears burned crimson with annoyance. He glanced at the inferior lyrics he had scribbled over, before deciding to toss the crippled paper out and attempt to make a decent song, another time.
_______________
Narcissistic. Egotistical. Asshole. Sellout. At some point, I heard all of those and more. I didn't chew on those words, for longer than two seconds, nor pay any excess attention to who said it. I guess, in a one-sided and unfair angle, I kind of did deserve it. You may believe that it shouldn't have hurt me as much because really, they're just words. Letters stringed together to form some sort of meaning, some form of communication. Simple. But in my case, the formation was beyond that, they were constant reminders of how I reduced my standards and morals because I couldn't take even the smallest leap of faith. I believed some would be forever etched inside, threaded tightly around the wires that bind me, but otherwise, left unnoticed. It seemed too late, to go back and untie all of those words and alter the outcome. Partially, because I had taken guitar lessons instead of becoming a Boy Scout, but mostly because I lost the one thing that ever mattered. The one person that ever mattered. Without that person, I couldn't care less about how my life decided to pan out. It was that obscure yet translucent line of hope that told me to fight for him. I didn't try anything right away, because I fucked things up before, I fucked a lot of things up and I was running out of chances. However, a million feet below, huddled around my core, I knew it would always be him. I knew what he was, all along.
Tragic, me? Never.
The slightest mention of him perked my ears up and demanded my undivided attention. It was a known fact that I was in love with him, no matter how long it took me to finally admit it... out loud. Everyone acted as if I was a walking hazard, only speaking when spoken to or when desperately needed. They acted as if I was some wicked puppet master, and they, my puppets, but the one thing they never knew, was that the idea of me being in charge was a complete contradiction. I was the one attached to an infinite amount of string, I was the one who was to obey and not utter a single word. All that was expected of me, was to sing, smile and pretend that every second a camera neared my face or a spotlight was focused on me, was the best second I ever had. Truth was, the seconds I had far away from society and close to Jack, were the ones that I truly enjoyed. What intrigued me about him was how he'd effortlessly morph my mood into one I could deal with and he abided all of my bullshit because he honestly believed in me, because he could see something special that I was oblivious of. He accepted every damned flaw and imperfection, he was evolved, he didn't judge others for who they were.
I corrupted him. I corrupted that perfectly innocent and brilliant mind of his, with my pessimistic and merciless ways. I was responsible for him leaving. I was responsible for all of the reasons he had against me and I couldn't blame him. I couldn't see things through the same eyes he had - promise coruscated in burnt-sienna orbs -, I couldn't have tolerated everything he did. I couldn't love life and every dent in the road. I couldn't love exploring untested waters. I couldn't love being patient. I couldn't love experiencing every wild thought I had. I couldn't love not having him by my side. The one thing I could do was try.
Every last inch of my sanity kept me going, every impulse and glimpse of him living in my arms reminded me of why a future without him wasn't worth living.
His infectious laughter filled my body, his smooth lips melted my skin, his velvet words controlled my mind. He was my muse and I was nothing without my muse.