|
|
Post by haley on Jun 17, 2010 19:41:53 GMT 10
THIS IS A LESSON IN PROCRASTINATION ( I kill myself because I'm so frustrated [/b][/size] )e v e r y • s i n g l e • s e c o n d • t h a t • I • p u t • i t • o f f • m e a n sanother lonely night I've got to race the clock[/i][/center][/font] • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
singing. the only good thing about this job. don't get me wrong. haley loved his job just like the rest of the musicians on the tour, but sometimes he felt like he was drowning in everything else. the fame, the fortune, the fans, all of it was choking him. especially the fans coming up with this high expectation of him that he knew he couldn't possibly measure up to. what he hated the most was the constant paranoia that he was being watched or followed as if someone were just waiting for him to inevitably screw up. he felt at ease no where. especially not the bus, the only place that was promised privacy. with all the people entering and exiting the tour bus daily, it was impossible to tell who had a key or not. the bus is where he felt the most unsafe. he had to check every nook and cranny to see if there was some kind of hidden camera planted there.
the only reason haley put up with this kind of lifestyle was because he knew that deep down, he would miss it once it was gone. part of him was sad about the ending of the tour, and another part couldn't wait for it to be over. he knew that sometime in the distant future, he would miss being bombarded by fans, paparazzi, and all the interesting people. it maybe in a year or ten years, but he had grown accustomed to this sick living. partying nightly and inviting poor young girls into bed with him, these were the best years of his life. but he still had moments where time felt as though it was standing still. today was one of them. after a long night of partying hard, drinking and gambling, haley slept very painfully, waking up several times throughout the night with a throbbing migraine. he didn't even think of bringing home a lucky lady to keep his mind distracted. usually he would use them to get his mind off of the side effects of drinking.
he regretted ever getting up, wishing he could just sleep the headache off. but he knew that it was going to be impossible when he woke up the last time at three o'clock pm. he knew the only way to get rid of the headache was to endure it for a few more hours. he headed towards the kitchen to find a half empty coffee pot. he poured the rest of the coffee into a cup. haley hated coffee because of it's bad aftertaste, but it tasted better than the after taste of last night's alcohol. he washed down the flavor of seven hour booze with the coffee, and quickly changed into tight pants with a kickstart my heart band tee. inside he felt claustrophobic, so he decided to head to the park. quickly grabbing a pair of sunglasses to conceal his identity, haley headed towards the park.
there never was anything interesting at the park, and that's exactly what haley loved about it. hardly anyone would be there since the tour was still going on down the street. it was as if he would have the place to himself. it was a nice day out too, the sun was only a tad hot, but he could feel a cool breeze coming on. he couldn't have asked for a more perfect day off than today. although it's not as nearly as hot as it had been the other day during his performance. haley was still a bit sun burnt from his last performance, his skin was still a bit sensitive to the light. he found a nice, cool, relaxing tree, and sat down in its shade.
thinking he should have brought his guitar, he could work on a new song he was writing, but he still hadn't been able to get through it without crying. what he needed to get out of this rut was somebody to distract him, maybe for just a few hours or so. how hard was that to ask? haley was definitely not this person who has invaded his body for the last couple days. haley had no idea who this person was, but all he knew it wasn't him. not even prostitutes can make him feel better, but they were better than nothing. being at the park surprisingly almost made haley forget about his headache, until he tried to jump up to his feet. the motion was too fast for his brain, and he felt a sharp pain as a reminder of his migraine. once he felt the pain go away, he leaned against the tree, now feeling foolish for being the only one at the park. he also felt lonely, since everyone he knew was at the tour grounds, and he was the only idiot in the park today. though haley sometimes hated to admit it, he needed human company.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
WORDS! 816
STATUS! complete
NOTES! horrible post. i'm probably the worst person to start threads xD
TAGS! emlyn (ASHO)
INSPIRATION! you, me, and everyone we know <3
TEMPLATE CREDIT! Arro @ Caution 2.0
PICTURE CREDIT!
[/color] |
|
|
|
Post by emlyn on Jun 18, 2010 2:46:20 GMT 10
 I WANT YOUR UGLY AND I WANT YOUR DISEASE[/color][/font] i want a bad, bad romance *[/color][/font] WANT YOUR EVERYTHING AS LONG AS IT'S FREE- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/color][/font] Emlyn loved the rockstar lifestyle. Fucking adored it. Every second he was breathing on that stage, every fuck from a blushing fan in his bunk, every cigarette he snubbed out backstage...they were all one blended experience for him. Wake up: this is the first day of the rest of your life. This entire energy--it was validation for Emlyn. It was a message from whatever god was or wasn't up there to tell him that everything he'd been building into, the young man he'd been becoming, had a place. The rockstar was him, he was the rockstar. This was what he'd been working for all his years at that awful stuck-up private school, every whipping from the principal, everything he'd experimented and tryed to the chagrin of his parents at what he was becoming. It all led up to now. So why wouldn't he be happy?
Hell, he was fucking ecstatic. Mostly. Every dart of a tease thrown at a fellow musician who was "softer" than him or "had a soul" (unlike him, presumably), they were a spike of his delight that he'd found a place where being a drunken, raging asshole with a voice was what you were expected to do with your Friday, Saturday, or hell, even Monday night. Now he had an excuse, a license to be himself! (Not like not having one ever stopped him before but...) The drugs, the booze, the women, the music, oh the people you met on this crazy crazy ride...he lived for every single minute of it. Well, except for a few. There was an instance, hinged on the end of a shag with a lady (or man, hah, Em was proudly bisexual and took what he wanted regardless of gender or relationship status), that always put a perplexing feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was after whatever cuddles he felt generous enough to give, if any--it was the goodbye. It wasn't exactly awkward--the man didn't know the meaning of the word. It wasn't bittersweet--hey, neither of the pair ever promised anything but a quick fuck. It was simply that there was always that ghost of something more. Maybe it was that instinctual desire to stick with your mate after you'd done the act of procreation. Maybe it was just all the booze finally doing in his internal organs, making them mushy. But he always had that feeling that he should ask them to stay, hell even ask their name again. But it was only fleeting (thank God), and he was only in it for the feelings before all that crap.
After a long night of doing his job (ahem, read here: booze and girls girls girls), Em was loathe to wake up. So he didn't. He slept easily through the morning, postponing the impending hangover for as long as possible, which happened to be some time around two in the afternoon. Laying in his bunk with the sounds of the outside city, weakish as they were through the walls of the bus, grating against his ears, he waited for the normal surge of memories to come disjointed through him. They were typical of his drinking binges, of some random fan he'd seduced, the interesting drinking games they'd tripped through and then, later, the equally interesting (but somehow the same as any other fan from any other night) bedroom bunk games. Nothing too monumental. It was kind of interesting, actually, watching it play back in his mind as it came back, like a scratched dvd skipping through scenes, though. It would be more interesting were it not for the splitting headache, but hey, he was a pro at this, he was by no means a lightweight or amateur drinker...ironic considering he was barely legal for cigarettes and wasn't even legal to drink yet. Nineteen was a perplexing number.
It was, unfortunately, too hot for a hoodie, our anti-hero found when he dared to poke his head outside. There went approximately 30% of his clothing. But, our Brit was nothing if not adaptable, so he merely shed that usually-staple item for a pair of bright red skinny jeans--he was an attention whore for all intensive purposes, might as well stand out!--and some Vans with a tee shirt. Simple, eye-catching, and complete with a few bobby pin hair clips to keep long, freshly showered bangs out of his eyes. Yes, hair clips, those were all part of that magnificent juxtaposition of looks and personality that Emlyn loved to showcase. "Just how does such a cute boy have such a mean mouth? D:" was the usual comment on magazine articles involving him....Well, that, or something along the lines of said commentor not caring how mean he was, as long as they could get their hands on him. Which, they usually could, he was nothing if not sexually active. And entirely secure in his manliness, too.
It was after this entire mental adventure of overcoming the hangover somewhat (aided by four ibuprofen) that Em could actually bring himself to step out into the world and face the glaring sunshine. He had no real destination, but he found himself headed to the park, for no apparent reason. It was empty-ish, something Emlyn was not particularly happy about, all except for a figure who had settled for the oh-so-cliche sit alone under a tree looking lonely pose. What was even more entertaining was seeing who it was--Haley Addams. "Oi, Haleykins! You look about as sane of mind as I feel!"[/b] he chuckled smoothly as he siddled up to occupy the space next to him, voice lazy and dripping in London dialect that seemed to so infatuate his fans. Hale was a cutie, and as far as Emlyn knew, straight ( ew was his initial thought), but he was hoping to change that one day soon. He had an infatuation himself with the three c's: coverting, corrupting, and chasing. Sure, a little slut on tour was fun...The night with a woman who "hated" you and your "stupid band" that you'd finally won over? Priceless.[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/b][/color] TAGGED: haleykins~ WORDS: 1042, really? o: WEARING: no hoodie whaa? clickeh (; NOTES: yours was loverly! mine just kind of walked in circles haha....ha >> CREDIT: template by delilahh @ CAUTION!, lyrics to "bad romance" by lady gaga [/color][/font][/center] |
|
|
|
Post by haley on Jun 19, 2010 5:06:16 GMT 10
THIS IS A LESSON IN PROCRASTINATION( I kill myself because I'm so frustrated [/b][/size] )e v e r y • s i n g l e • s e c o n d • t h a t • I • p u t • i t • o f f • m e a n sanother lonely night I've got to race the clock[/i][/center][/font] • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
he knew coming here was a mistake from the beginning, and yet, he didn't listen to himself. there really wasn't any other place to go though that was as quiet as here. he could have just as easily gone to the tour grounds, but he already spent way too much time there. it was also too early to go to the bar and drink, plus the thought of drinking made him sick to his stomach. that was a new feeling. haley had never had that kind of reaction to alcohol. it was weird, was he actually growing up? impossible. never. he wouldn't allow it. he hoped it was a temporary feeling, otherwise he would force himself to get over it. how else would he get all the girls that he did? most of them probably would jump at the sight of him, but then they usually think twice. that's haley's downfall. as hot as he was, sometimes a girl's too smart to be drawn in by his lame attempts of seduction. well, haley was never sober enough to try to hit on a girl at a bar anyways, so he wouldn't even know the first thing to do. the only girl he's ever hit on and actually succeeded, he was dating her, so it wasn't the same.
still, the park was like a cemetery. something about it being too quiet scared haley. he wasn't used to so much quiet time. he could hear ringing in his ears that were always present when his ears weren't being blasted out by the speakers or screaming fans. he should probably get that checked out, but it was inevitable with the job he had chosen. such a small price to pay for all this excitement. haley knew he was only dreading work tomorrow morning because he still was trying to recuperate from all the drinking the previous night. he didn't even think he drank all that much, but he sure tried just about everything that was at the place. mixing alcohols together really could fuck someone up in a short amount of time. i guess his tolerance to alcohol wasn't as strong as he claimed it to be. it was still strong, don't get me wrong, but after you drink about twenty or so different kinds of drinks, it can make any body fucked up, despite how tolerant their bodies were.
now that he thought of it, maybe he did have a few good times last night, despite how much he was kicking himself in the face for it. he tried to remember exactly what had happened, but just like the other times when he was completely plastered, he couldn't remember. how had he gotten home? this had to be the worst part of drinking, the not remembering part, because haley knew his mind wouldn't give it a rest until it remembers it. it's probably the reason why he seems to stressed out all the time, because his mind is constantly thinking, trying to remember events that happened. he knew that eventually it would all come back to haunt him in the future. though he should be prepared for it, haley knew exactly how he would react. just like he would any other time, shut himself out, deny it and move on. it was a lame thing to live by, but otherwise he would get sucked up into something that would screw his life over.
he tried to calm himself down. what's done is done, and he can't really do anything about it now anyways. his face lightened up when he spotted a familiar figure coming towards him. at first, haley thought he was imagining it, but as the figure got closer, he could now start to make out their face. emlyn. the face was so unexpected to see. sure they partied before together, but other than that, haley didn't really see emlyn around. and now to see him outside of his usual settings (sitting at a bar with one arm holding a drink and the other arm around a girl). he looked much younger in the daylight. haley knew emlyn was only nineteen, but he could hold his liquor much better than haley could when he was nineteen. still, seeing him outside of the bar really surprised at him just how good looking he was. haley knew he shouldn't be thinking this way, since he was still not over his ex girlfriend, but he now understood what all those bimbos he got home saw in him.
when he spoke, haley was surprised his migraine wasn't irked by his words. he was preparing for the worst, but he felt nothing. he didn't even wince at the boy's voice. it was kind of harmonious, and ironically seemed to soothe him a bit. he chuckled and briefly looked away before returning to his stunning looks. "damn, i was hoping i looked good." he teased. haley knew he looked like shit, just like anyone else would easily see. he didn't even bother to take a shower, nor fix his hair. his breath, though he at least bothered to brush and rinse with mouthwash, still reeked of reminisce of alcohol content in it. cotton mouth, surely not attractive. then he remembered a simple solution. he leaned his butt up, holding his weight with only one arm and his feet, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his cigarette box and a lighter. he resumed his spot back on the ground and pulled out two cigarettes, holding the one that was flipped upside down for luck to his companion. "care for a smoke?" he asked, putting his cigarette into his mouth, and lighting it with one hand, inhaling deeply. what he loved the most about the menthols was that it tasted exactly like mints. instantly, the alcohol taste in his mouth was replaced with the cigarette. haley could feel his heart race. he could feel him starting to calm down finally. he was already starting to feel better. ah, the beauty of cigarettes.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
WORDS! 1002
STATUS! complete
NOTES! nah, yours was good 
TAGS! emlyn (ASHO)
INSPIRATION! you, me, and everyone we know <3
TEMPLATE CREDIT! Arro @ Caution 2.0
PICTURE CREDIT!
[/color] |
|
