Re: Sweet Child Of mine- 3 (2/4)
anonymous
June 25 2010, 05:04:12 UTC
Tomasz surely didn't feel like any of the above as he was dragged about, too shocked, and slightly too scared to even register what just happened. He found himself thrown into a big meeting room, and he had barely gotten the time to balance himself when the melodramatic man barged in behind him and called: "Gentlemen- I present you our new speaker!"
"What?!"
Tomasz just stared, his mouth agape. The man in the cap nodded. "You, young man, you! Our new speaker! This party needs some fresh blood in its veins!"
"You just saw me in the corridor and dragged me here!" Tomasz's voice came out kind of whiny, but he couldn't help it. Was it some kind of joke? Had somebody set him up?
"Ugh, but who sent to call you? Do you really think that the Maestro himself needed this penny works? I am the stylist of this party! I looked at your resume and at your life story, young man!" Tomasz felt like he was about to faint in front of all the people in the room when the man in cape gave another boisterous, loud, laughing noise. "The electors love your kind of people! Hard-workers, self made, from the bottom of society - an orphan, no supporting parents, finished the best university in the country with excellent grades - and good looking, too! You’re perfect! All you need to do is straighten up your back, pull up your shoulders a bit and raise your head - oh, and a look fitting our gimmick. You know- oh - you brought it so you must know! It's-,”
Tomasz mumbled something and then fainted dead away with shock.
"-you are, like, totally lucky I just walked in! God! Don’t pack up! Move your asses! Oh, poor baby-,”
That voice…
"-I'm like, totally gonna get mad if something serious happened to him because you, like, can't curb your enthusiasm, Maestro!”
It was oddly familiar . . . and why did he feel like there was a strange color over his vision? Oh . . . his eyelids were closed.
"-and what the hell were you, like, thinking anyway?!-"
…He was lying on the carpet. His head hurt like hell. He tried opening his eyes.
For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating. His vision rolled around the room, unfocused, like the voices around him. He… probably hyperventilated from shock… everything was fine…
Then he realized he was staring into the same eyes he held onto in his memories since childhood. Bright green, slightly almond-shaped, with thick, thick eyelashes…
"What?!"
Tomasz just stared, his mouth agape. The man in the cap nodded. "You, young man, you! Our new speaker! This party needs some fresh blood in its veins!"
"You just saw me in the corridor and dragged me here!" Tomasz's voice came out kind of whiny, but he couldn't help it. Was it some kind of joke? Had somebody set him up?
"Ugh, but who sent to call you? Do you really think that the Maestro himself needed this penny works? I am the stylist of this party! I looked at your resume and at your life story, young man!" Tomasz felt like he was about to faint in front of all the people in the room when the man in cape gave another boisterous, loud, laughing noise. "The electors love your kind of people! Hard-workers, self made, from the bottom of society - an orphan, no supporting parents, finished the best university in the country with excellent grades - and good looking, too! You’re perfect! All you need to do is straighten up your back, pull up your shoulders a bit and raise your head - oh, and a look fitting our gimmick. You know- oh - you brought it so you must know! It's-,”
Tomasz mumbled something and then fainted dead away with shock.
"-you are, like, totally lucky I just walked in! God! Don’t pack up! Move your asses! Oh, poor baby-,”
That voice…
"-I'm like, totally gonna get mad if something serious happened to him because you, like, can't curb your enthusiasm, Maestro!”
It was oddly familiar . . . and why did he feel like there was a strange color over his vision? Oh . . . his eyelids were closed.
"-and what the hell were you, like, thinking anyway?!-"
…He was lying on the carpet. His head hurt like hell. He tried opening his eyes.
For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating. His vision rolled around the room, unfocused, like the voices around him. He… probably hyperventilated from shock… everything was fine…
Then he realized he was staring into the same eyes he held onto in his memories since childhood. Bright green, slightly almond-shaped, with thick, thick eyelashes…
"…Mom?"
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