(no subject)
The last two months have been hard on Maxxie. In little ways, and in big ways, but nothing that he wants to complain about. He turned into a girl, and that was weird, but it's about the only thing that centers directly on him. (That involved Claire, too, but nothing Maxxie did hurt her by it.) But he fucked a guy he shouldn't have twice, kissed a guy he shouldn't have... a bunch of things that he regrets and that twist him up inside, but that he can't talk about for fear of the damage the truth would cause. But the biggest things are the things he has no right to complain about himself, because he's only on the periphery. Tony finding out about his future. Lionel showing up and complicating Marshall's life. Cassie losing her fucking boyfriend and then having him come back. Those things, he wants to help where he can, but they're bigger than him, and make him worry what's coming down the lane later for him. If one day he's gonna turn around and see Sketch behind a camera. Or if something's going to happen to Chris.
Mostly though, right then he's worried about why he apparently cannot say no to Tony fucking Stonem.
One of the pluses of being a creative person is that you almost always have an outlet. Whether it's dancing on the rooftop or sketching on the beach, he has something to occupy him and empty his mind. Classes are okay, because they're classes he actually enjoys. But they're all with people and, much as he likes being around people, sometimes they don't help for clearing your head.
On the stage, in the middle of the jungle, he's got enough privacy to let go for a while. He starts by taking his paces around the stage, measuring the length and width of it with his strides, and dancing. Turns, leaps, even a bit of tumbling. It gets out some of that anxious energy that's been building inside of him.
But he dances every day and it's been a while since he's been on a proper stage. He stops his mad twirling and looks out on the empty space where the audience should be. One thing he's never been afraid of is being up here in front of dozens (maybe one day hundreds) of people. But the rest of it... God, all he's scared of every day is losing someone. Whether it's just a friendship gone to ruin or someone disappearing wholly, he can't stand the thought of it. All he's got in front of him is empty space and what if that's the case months from now?
"What do you get?" he asks the emptiness, his mouth quirked in a half-hearted, humorless smile. He loves the stage, loves musicals, loves music. It's natural that the song comes to him now, of all times, a fit to his mood if a little too pointed. And without background characters to sing the extra lines. "Someone to hold you too close. Someone to hurt you too deep. Someone to sit in your chair, to ruin your sleep..."
He doesn't dance. It's not a song for dancing. It's a song about fear and heartache, of wanting something just as much as you fear it. Or not knowing what you want at all.
"Make me confused. Mock me with praise. Let me be used. Vary my days. But alone is alone not alive."
He gets into it. Too much. When he's performing, he doesn't get fully lost in it, though the adrenaline rush makes him feel high as a kite and the lights all but blind him. He's always got one eye on the audience, on whoever's on stage with him, making sure the notes are hitting home, making sure he's hitting his mark, readying for the next cue, the next step. But he doesn't have to bother with any of that now, just shuts his eyes and belts and doesn't notice any one else coming on the scene, filling in for the role of audience.
[[Timed to late afternoon. ST/LT welcome. Maxxie is singing "Being Alive" from the musical Company which can be found here. Bear in mind that Maxxie is not Raúl Esparza. He sings well, but he is not that caliber of Broadway and his voice is lighter. However, that's the arrangement I had in mind given he's solo-ing. Any questions, feel free to ask.]]
Mostly though, right then he's worried about why he apparently cannot say no to Tony fucking Stonem.
One of the pluses of being a creative person is that you almost always have an outlet. Whether it's dancing on the rooftop or sketching on the beach, he has something to occupy him and empty his mind. Classes are okay, because they're classes he actually enjoys. But they're all with people and, much as he likes being around people, sometimes they don't help for clearing your head.
On the stage, in the middle of the jungle, he's got enough privacy to let go for a while. He starts by taking his paces around the stage, measuring the length and width of it with his strides, and dancing. Turns, leaps, even a bit of tumbling. It gets out some of that anxious energy that's been building inside of him.
But he dances every day and it's been a while since he's been on a proper stage. He stops his mad twirling and looks out on the empty space where the audience should be. One thing he's never been afraid of is being up here in front of dozens (maybe one day hundreds) of people. But the rest of it... God, all he's scared of every day is losing someone. Whether it's just a friendship gone to ruin or someone disappearing wholly, he can't stand the thought of it. All he's got in front of him is empty space and what if that's the case months from now?
"What do you get?" he asks the emptiness, his mouth quirked in a half-hearted, humorless smile. He loves the stage, loves musicals, loves music. It's natural that the song comes to him now, of all times, a fit to his mood if a little too pointed. And without background characters to sing the extra lines. "Someone to hold you too close. Someone to hurt you too deep. Someone to sit in your chair, to ruin your sleep..."
He doesn't dance. It's not a song for dancing. It's a song about fear and heartache, of wanting something just as much as you fear it. Or not knowing what you want at all.
"Make me confused. Mock me with praise. Let me be used. Vary my days. But alone is alone not alive."
He gets into it. Too much. When he's performing, he doesn't get fully lost in it, though the adrenaline rush makes him feel high as a kite and the lights all but blind him. He's always got one eye on the audience, on whoever's on stage with him, making sure the notes are hitting home, making sure he's hitting his mark, readying for the next cue, the next step. But he doesn't have to bother with any of that now, just shuts his eyes and belts and doesn't notice any one else coming on the scene, filling in for the role of audience.
[[Timed to late afternoon. ST/LT welcome. Maxxie is singing "Being Alive" from the musical Company which can be found here. Bear in mind that Maxxie is not Raúl Esparza. He sings well, but he is not that caliber of Broadway and his voice is lighter. However, that's the arrangement I had in mind given he's solo-ing. Any questions, feel free to ask.]]