[Drabble] Lend me air - Reita-centric
Title: Lend me air
Author: ice_breath_117
Chapters: Drabble - around 360 words.
Pairing: Reita-centric
Rating: G
Genre: Angst
Disclaimer: They own me. Not the other way round.
Synopsis: Why won't they love him?
A/N: Something written in 10 minutes flat because I'm crying and I need an outlet for my emotions. I guess it's kind of a reflection of what I'm feeling right now. .__.
Their shrill cries reach his ears. Ruki, they're screaming. Ruki. Their hands, grabbing at him, clawing, wanting him. They love him. There's no doubt about that. Amidst the crowd, he hears Aoi too. And Uruha. And Kai.
But what Reita hears most of all is a deafening silence.
His cranes his head, longing to hear the sound of his own name. He just wants to hear one single cry of Reita, goddammit. It's not much to ask for, is it? Arms are extended, following the four men in front of him. And Reita lags on behind, watching arms fall as he walks past.
Why won't they love him?
He steps up on stage, and a smile almost makes it to his lips as he feels the familiar sense of invincibility. He's Reita, the bassist of Gazette, and nothing can change that. Then he looks up into the crowd, and realizes that not a single pair of eyes are on him, and his mouth goes dry. He feels as if he's about to vomit.
Who's he kidding? Nobody cares.
The familiar weight of his bass on his shoulder, once so comforting, now feels like a burden; its heaviness dragging him down further. It's as if he's drowning, and no one can hear his silent plea, and no one's there to save him.
Drowning. Slowly drowning.
He almost forgets to play as the music begins, but nobody notices his fumbling - nobody's watching - and soon enough he regains the rhythm and his fingers move gracefully along the bar of wood. To this day it amazes him that such deep, rich sounds can come from him, and the corners of his lips turn upwards.
Just listen to the music.
The silence of the end is suffocating. There's no more music to keep him bouyant; floating. It's gone, and he's sinking, and choking, and surrendering.
There's no more fight left in him.
Ruki. More screams. Crying out for Ruki, all wanting him. They wouldn't notice whether or not he was there. Even the others on stage. All happy, arms around one another. Laughing and being so...happy. And he's not part of it. Not being able to stand the silence any longer, he runs off the stage, back into the comforting darkness behind it all.
No more. Not again.
Another A/N, just because: I don't really know what I was trying to portray here. Interpret it how you may, but I think it was just the psychology of feeling unloved and unwanted all the time, even when you're surrounded by people. His inability to feel the love around him is killing him, i guess. God. What does that say about me >_>
Author: ice_breath_117
Chapters: Drabble - around 360 words.
Pairing: Reita-centric
Rating: G
Genre: Angst
Disclaimer: They own me. Not the other way round.
Synopsis: Why won't they love him?
A/N: Something written in 10 minutes flat because I'm crying and I need an outlet for my emotions. I guess it's kind of a reflection of what I'm feeling right now. .__.
Their shrill cries reach his ears. Ruki, they're screaming. Ruki. Their hands, grabbing at him, clawing, wanting him. They love him. There's no doubt about that. Amidst the crowd, he hears Aoi too. And Uruha. And Kai.
But what Reita hears most of all is a deafening silence.
His cranes his head, longing to hear the sound of his own name. He just wants to hear one single cry of Reita, goddammit. It's not much to ask for, is it? Arms are extended, following the four men in front of him. And Reita lags on behind, watching arms fall as he walks past.
Why won't they love him?
He steps up on stage, and a smile almost makes it to his lips as he feels the familiar sense of invincibility. He's Reita, the bassist of Gazette, and nothing can change that. Then he looks up into the crowd, and realizes that not a single pair of eyes are on him, and his mouth goes dry. He feels as if he's about to vomit.
Who's he kidding? Nobody cares.
The familiar weight of his bass on his shoulder, once so comforting, now feels like a burden; its heaviness dragging him down further. It's as if he's drowning, and no one can hear his silent plea, and no one's there to save him.
Drowning. Slowly drowning.
He almost forgets to play as the music begins, but nobody notices his fumbling - nobody's watching - and soon enough he regains the rhythm and his fingers move gracefully along the bar of wood. To this day it amazes him that such deep, rich sounds can come from him, and the corners of his lips turn upwards.
Just listen to the music.
The silence of the end is suffocating. There's no more music to keep him bouyant; floating. It's gone, and he's sinking, and choking, and surrendering.
There's no more fight left in him.
Ruki. More screams. Crying out for Ruki, all wanting him. They wouldn't notice whether or not he was there. Even the others on stage. All happy, arms around one another. Laughing and being so...happy. And he's not part of it. Not being able to stand the silence any longer, he runs off the stage, back into the comforting darkness behind it all.
No more. Not again.
Another A/N, just because: I don't really know what I was trying to portray here. Interpret it how you may, but I think it was just the psychology of feeling unloved and unwanted all the time, even when you're surrounded by people. His inability to feel the love around him is killing him, i guess. God. What does that say about me >_>