madmuses [black light burns lyrics]
This doesn't end with you.
I walk around and I think if people only knew
That I wish they were cursed,
That I wish them the worst,
I really wish 'em the worst.
But I'm doing my best,
And I hope you forgive me now that I've confessed
Because I'm trying to resist
My heart becoming a fist
Forever.
Paris was as beautiful as everyone had made it out to be. There was no doubt that there was a sort of hidden scent in the air that caused hearts to swell, eyes to flutter, and romances to form. As James stood out on the balcony of the penthouse that Pepper had so generously arranged for he and Jen, his eyes scanned the streets below, listening to the laughter and love-soaked words of the passers-by.
It had been him, not too long ago, singing those words with such a light heart, it was sure to fly away. He'd smiled those love-sick smiles, brushed the hair from her eyes, touched her with love and adoration. Now, he'd been scowling from his self-made lair, cursing the teenagers and young adults with so much love it could make him nauseous. Even with the illumination of the Eiffel Tower kissing his features, there was no softness in his eyes. The gentleness that was almost a trademark for James had faded.
He craned his neck to look back inside, the sleeping form of Jen still huddled amongst the sheets. He couldn't sleep, not yet. His body screamed and ached with exhaustion, with its primal instinct of survival being called to the frontlines. But James wouldn't allow it. His mind and his heart were too full, too busy trying to sort out what had happened, what should have happened, and what would never see the light of day. He had moved past trying to convince himself that it was all a bad dream, that he would wake up in the morning and call home, and Z would answer the phone. He'd stopped trying to tell himself that he would tell her about the record deal, that she would hug him with so much force he'd have to remind her that he needed to breathe, that she would break open a bottle of champagne and the dogs would look happily at their owners' joy, that he'd probably have to pull Ollie off of Z's leg, when he'd no doubt start humping it as he always did. He'd talked himself out of the things that would never happen, that had, at one time, seemed so logical and plausible that he could almost taste the champagne and feel her grip around him as she congratulated him. But the feelings faded. Champagne didn't seem to hold the same appeal, and the embrace was nothing more than his own arms, hugging his body so tightly he thought it might break.
James could feel himself shut down: his body ached, his heart hurt, his head was pounding .. Everything was pointing to one thing. It was as though there was a huge, blinking arrow above the bed, urging and pleading with him to go to sleep, but he turned back around and stared down at the street instead.
He knew what had happened last time, when his father had passed away. He withdrew from everyone in his life, locked himself up in his apartment, stopped answering phone calls to the point where Jeff had the door knocked down because he was sure his best friend had killed himself. It was as though there was a vat of tar situated above his heart, and every time he experienced a tragedy, a small hole formed and let bits of the thick, black goo drip down onto his heart. Slowly, over time, the tar hardened and would build, layer by layer, and James could feel it happening. Almost instinctively, he placed a hand on his chest, hoping the warmth of his hand would somehow melt the blackened shell.
He didn't know if he'd recover. He didn't even know how he could measure his recovery. Would it be settling into a new house? Feeling the urge to smile or laugh again? Or would it simply be making it from one day to the next? The hand warming his heart fell to his lap, and he heard the jingle of the bracelet Z had given him for Christmas.
"Forse io sono più forte di me," James mumbled to himself, having already memorized the inscription. His fingers ran over the engraved words, each letter scraped so perfectly into the metal that was warm from his skin. "Forse io sono più forte di me," he repeated, knowing that if Z saw him in this state, she'd kiss his cheek and then kick his ass into gear. He couldn't help but let out a tearful laugh at the thought, knowing that she wouldn't have accepted this kind of behavior. She would have told him that he wasn't trying hard enough to keep moving, and when he argued that he was, she would shake her head and repeat herself. With the remnants of a smile around his lips, he glanced up at the dotted sky and whispered, "Sono più forte di penso, ed è a causa di lei."
James S. Carlisle
817 Words
Original Character
OOC Note: The bracelet inscription, in English, means 'Perhaps I am stronger than I think," and what he says at the end is "I am stronger than I think, and it is because of you."
I walk around and I think if people only knew
That I wish they were cursed,
That I wish them the worst,
I really wish 'em the worst.
But I'm doing my best,
And I hope you forgive me now that I've confessed
Because I'm trying to resist
My heart becoming a fist
Forever.
Paris was as beautiful as everyone had made it out to be. There was no doubt that there was a sort of hidden scent in the air that caused hearts to swell, eyes to flutter, and romances to form. As James stood out on the balcony of the penthouse that Pepper had so generously arranged for he and Jen, his eyes scanned the streets below, listening to the laughter and love-soaked words of the passers-by.
It had been him, not too long ago, singing those words with such a light heart, it was sure to fly away. He'd smiled those love-sick smiles, brushed the hair from her eyes, touched her with love and adoration. Now, he'd been scowling from his self-made lair, cursing the teenagers and young adults with so much love it could make him nauseous. Even with the illumination of the Eiffel Tower kissing his features, there was no softness in his eyes. The gentleness that was almost a trademark for James had faded.
He craned his neck to look back inside, the sleeping form of Jen still huddled amongst the sheets. He couldn't sleep, not yet. His body screamed and ached with exhaustion, with its primal instinct of survival being called to the frontlines. But James wouldn't allow it. His mind and his heart were too full, too busy trying to sort out what had happened, what should have happened, and what would never see the light of day. He had moved past trying to convince himself that it was all a bad dream, that he would wake up in the morning and call home, and Z would answer the phone. He'd stopped trying to tell himself that he would tell her about the record deal, that she would hug him with so much force he'd have to remind her that he needed to breathe, that she would break open a bottle of champagne and the dogs would look happily at their owners' joy, that he'd probably have to pull Ollie off of Z's leg, when he'd no doubt start humping it as he always did. He'd talked himself out of the things that would never happen, that had, at one time, seemed so logical and plausible that he could almost taste the champagne and feel her grip around him as she congratulated him. But the feelings faded. Champagne didn't seem to hold the same appeal, and the embrace was nothing more than his own arms, hugging his body so tightly he thought it might break.
James could feel himself shut down: his body ached, his heart hurt, his head was pounding .. Everything was pointing to one thing. It was as though there was a huge, blinking arrow above the bed, urging and pleading with him to go to sleep, but he turned back around and stared down at the street instead.
He knew what had happened last time, when his father had passed away. He withdrew from everyone in his life, locked himself up in his apartment, stopped answering phone calls to the point where Jeff had the door knocked down because he was sure his best friend had killed himself. It was as though there was a vat of tar situated above his heart, and every time he experienced a tragedy, a small hole formed and let bits of the thick, black goo drip down onto his heart. Slowly, over time, the tar hardened and would build, layer by layer, and James could feel it happening. Almost instinctively, he placed a hand on his chest, hoping the warmth of his hand would somehow melt the blackened shell.
He didn't know if he'd recover. He didn't even know how he could measure his recovery. Would it be settling into a new house? Feeling the urge to smile or laugh again? Or would it simply be making it from one day to the next? The hand warming his heart fell to his lap, and he heard the jingle of the bracelet Z had given him for Christmas.
"Forse io sono più forte di me," James mumbled to himself, having already memorized the inscription. His fingers ran over the engraved words, each letter scraped so perfectly into the metal that was warm from his skin. "Forse io sono più forte di me," he repeated, knowing that if Z saw him in this state, she'd kiss his cheek and then kick his ass into gear. He couldn't help but let out a tearful laugh at the thought, knowing that she wouldn't have accepted this kind of behavior. She would have told him that he wasn't trying hard enough to keep moving, and when he argued that he was, she would shake her head and repeat herself. With the remnants of a smile around his lips, he glanced up at the dotted sky and whispered, "Sono più forte di penso, ed è a causa di lei."
James S. Carlisle
817 Words
Original Character
OOC Note: The bracelet inscription, in English, means 'Perhaps I am stronger than I think," and what he says at the end is "I am stronger than I think, and it is because of you."