time to face the facts

[rawr]

close my eyes

Homesickness has swept him up into the sea that sprawled out before his gaze, churning in a way akin to what his stomach was going through.

He was back.

Having left for such a long time, months and months on end, it felt peculiar, to just show up once more in his old haunts, expecting to be welcomed back with turned shoulders and hushed, enraged looks. The darting looks he had gotten from strangers, peering curiously at how palid his skin had become, how torn his clothes were. The striken way his gate went on, hitching and shifting as if he were trying to walk on the sea. He had not touched a bottle in ages, so that was not the cause.

He was filled with grief and regret, his mind forever bubbling up with memories he tried to supress, hateful words that he had let fly without a second thought. Words that had brought the plane crashing down into the lilting hills of Georgia. Words that had caused such horrible apprehension at returning home to prepare a funeral for two people he had not given enough time to in his, and their, lifetime.

His eyes screwed shut, then, blocking out the light of the world around him and the utter rage that made his throat constrict.

Idiot.

The word came from his throat, like a bird swooping out of a nest. The nest, then, that laid deep in his throat, which would attribute to why his throat ached and was so stuffed up. He smeared a sleeved arm into his face, covering it as he bit into cloth and flesh, sniffling and aching all over.

He had not been quite so stupid, this time around, heading up north. Not like in his earlier years, when he had meandered about the land, walking all the while. This time, he had flown, using what money he had been given for it. By family friends who realized how fragile he was. Not a monster and a cretin, but still a young boy, hiding away behind all the fake rumors and titles, wishing only to take it all back.

So, then, he had flown his way back. Not before, however, learning of his parent's will. They had given him everything, despite all he had said and done. They had cared, despite having been too busy to show it. They had tried, time and time again, to reach him. But he never got the letters, pleading with him to come home. They had always gone to the wrong person, who must have assuredly thrown them in the trash. Thrown something so precious to he, Martin, in the trash.

A haunted sigh lifted, following the other bird like a loving mate. His body shivered, as he leaned against the piling of crates. The wood pressed into his back, reassuring him like a mother's hand to a babe's back. He had never felt that hand, though he had seen and heard of it time and time again. The bitterness returned, with such a thought, sending his head slowly inching between his legs, so that he could curl up and forget it all.

Forget the men that had all slowly left the dock, to find other places and leave the trembling, loathful boy alone. They had seen the glint in his eye, had sensed the bottled up emotions that ran rampant beneath the surface, coiling like snakes under placid water, ready to strike out. And so, they had all let him be, for even their boss noticed the haze that surrounded him.

There he sat, curled up and alone, forever alone, regretting having come back to New York, but knowing that he could not have stayed at home. Everything reminded him of them, despite them never have come to visit New York, never having seen these places and been at them. Despite that, the working of his mind told him that everything had been cursed by them, as they haunted him. With every waking moment, he drew closer and closer to the comfort of forgetting everything, the comforting embrace of insanity.

smell your scent

[hbghost]

IF WE RUN THIS LIGHT TAKE A LITTLE LIFE
no one will care at all

w e c a n b u r n i t a n d l e a v e
FOR WE ARE THE BEAUTIFUL THEIVES
a n d n o o n e s u s p e c t s a t a l l

Eric couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe what Darcy had done to him. Here, he thought she was completely for him, just as he thought Kat was, but when he found out there was someone else she was interested in... someone she had known longer... Eric simply couldn't take it.

Before he could have exploded in her face, he left to be alone, to think about the stupid decisions he had made.

"How could I have been such an idiot...? I should have known that there was someone better for a pretty girl like her. Someone better than me," Eric muttered to himself, holding his face in his hands.

You know what's worse, though? Erik asked, materializing beside him as they walked along the pier. She knows about your face. If she hates you that much... well, there's not much she can do to ruin your physical appearance, but still... there's always the power of twenty-first century gossip."

Oh, shut up. Eric thought, sighing as he saw a figure out of the corner of his eye. Wait... is that who I think it is...? he asked in his head, forgetting for a moment Erik was listening.

Hmm? Who are you talking about? Erik asked, now genuinely interested.

Him... over there, against the wall. I remember him - he was a friend of mine from last year. Eric replied, starting to approach Martin.

You know him? Erik asked, incredulously as he started to get suspicions of his own. However, Eric ignored him as he stood in front of Martin, looking over at him curiously.

"... Martin?" he asked cautiously, only half worried that he had gotten the wrong person.

``NOTES! Blah this is crap but I POSTED WHOO
``STATUS! Hnurrrrrr
``MUSE! Hnurrrrrrr
``TAG! Martin
``OUTFIT! Hnurrrrrr
``WORD COUNT! Hnurrrrrrrr
``CREDIT! PAULAA!? @ caution2.0

[rawr]

laughter does not live

The scuffing of shoes on the planks of wood awoke him, despite having tried so hard to ignore it all, as he had been for some time. They had pounded their way into his ears, despite his trying to shove the palms of his hands into his ears, to erase it and all other noises. Especially that infernal a-thump-a-bumping of his heart.

Curiousity, then, got the better of him. His head tilted, searching out for something, a face and a body and something to grab on to. Instead, all he found was the shadow, and he was too lazy to look further upwards unto the owner.

"... Martin?"

That voice... No... Certaintly not...
But... Who would be the only one kind enough to remember?

Surprise shook him, and with the emotion, his sadness disappeared, if only for a little while. His head reared back, eyes wide and puffy-red from his constant crying of earlier. His head smacked with a thump into the wall, and he flinched, wincing and closing one eye in pain, trying to pretend it hadn't happened.

A sneaky hand rose up, like the slow tendrils of a plant towards the sky, rubbing at the back of his head to try and make the pain stop. With all that was happening so quickely, he forgot to hide his emotions, for sheer shock took away most of his rational thoughts. Who would have thunk it, Eric being the first one he talked to and saw, back in New York. While it made him so happy to see him, at the same time it made his stomach shudder. It had been so long.

"E-Eric.. Y-you're..."

He broke off, mouth gaping slightly from his attempt at speaking, his voice cracking. It didn't hold the same cocky attitude as it usually did, and it sure as heck didn't sound anything like he sounded at any other time.

Of course, the big idiot would have the luck to find him at such a bad time, screaming down the tracks of an emotional rollercoaster.

want to feel warmth

[hbghost]

IF WE RUN THIS LIGHT TAKE A LITTLE LIFE
no one will care at all

w e c a n b u r n i t a n d l e a v e
FOR WE ARE THE BEAUTIFUL THEIVES
a n d n o o n e s u s p e c t s a t a l l

Yes, it was definitely him. Him, the young man whom Eric had first run to, terrified during the lockdown, in the hopes of escaping the pursuit of who he thought was Drake Sterling. Him, who Eric had been friends with for only quite a while before they were forced to be separated. That was, of course, before he had met Kat, and there had been, of course, a strange affair with the Phantom of the Opera...

But, to Erik's surprise, Eric didn't care about the Phantom of the Opera at all as he knelt by Martin's side. Erik had been wrong after all - Eric did have friends. He just needed to find them, especially after they had wandered so far from him.

"E-Eric.. Y-you're..."

"Hideous, I know," Eric cut him off. "Even worse than before. I'm used to it. I've been through two girlfriends, each of them abandoning me for someone else. Also, I have this CRAZY story to tell you, but all of that can wait until later... Now's not about me, anyway. I really don't like talking about me as much as I thought before. But... Martin... what's up, buddy? I'm here for you. I missed you."

If Erik had materialized at that very moment, his mouth would be agape at the compassion he was showing for this young man. Had they really been friends while Erik was buried deep in the boy's conscious? Erik, curious to find out more about what was making Eric so tolerable, lingered around to find out more.

``NOTES! SORRY THIS IS SO LATE.
``STATUS! D8
``MUSE! LOST BUT I FOUND IT AGAIN YAY ME
``TAG! Martin~~
``OUTFIT!
``WORD COUNT!
``CREDIT! PAULAA!? @ caution2.0

[rawr]

He stared, mouth hanging low on his chin, shocked by Eric's words. Martin could have sworn Eric was getting better. He wasn't really wearing the mask, as far as he was concerned. But he must have missed a lot, being gone.

He had been gone, actually, for far too long... His mind wandered, if only for a brief moment, escaping the clutches of reality, ignoring most of what his old friend was saying. He snapped back, then, near the end of what the opposite was saying.

"...for you. I missed you."

Those words actually made him happy. Of all things, at a horrible time like this, he was so very happy. His heart went about, skipping a beat, just like everyone always talked about when something good or bad happened of great importance.

He had not seen his friend in very long, let alone anyone at all from New York. Martin had just expected them to all forget him. To see him coming back and just mutter to themselves, questioning who this stranger was and why he was claiming to have once known them. And then they would shun him. He had been so sure of it, set in his doubtful ways.

But, here Eric was. Saying those three words he had expected the least of his dear friend.

"Yes. Yes. I.. I did. I did too."

He found his voice, shrugging off his shock and trying to go back to normal. He cocked his head to the side, chin up. He set his shoulders, trying to get them at just that right amount of stiffness. But, alas, he failed. They slumped, and his head bobbed slightly left and right. He reached a hand out - he really couldn't help but want to see if it were all true - and gripped Eric's shoulder, mouth the only thing on his body that seemed to be like it had before he had left New York.

"I'm sorry. It's been a while, h-hasn't it? I had to... I had unexpected business. But I'm back. Isn't that great? I'm finally home."

He briefly tried for a smile, lips twitching up into an almost sarcastic grin, lasting there for a long while.

Happy....