Status: This one-shot is complete.
A Day in the Life of Sam Carter
Beginning, Middle, End.
Sam Carter was the lead singer for the UK band, Architects. He wasn't your typical normal person as he was in a band which one might consider famous, many from the hardcore scene had the band in their top listens but this wasn't the only reason for his irregularity. He also suffered a mental illness. It was one that was often laughed at by society, and people commonly enjoyed imitating people with this illness so he wasn't open about it at all. It was a rarity amongst his fans to know why he occasionaly acted strangely, and if one found out about it the others denied it profusely so it stayed as a lone quiet rumour, seeming to gently drift through the groups of people during the many festivals and tours they played. He ignored it for the most part, as will we. This is a day in the life of Sam Carter.
At that moment, he was on his bus and playing around on the laptop that was shared with the group. He had only just come off stage a mere half hour ago and his tics had just started to stop. He had suppressed it during the concert and the interview afterwards with the little confidence within himself and self control he had over it, but as soon as he stepped onto the bus, it came flooding onto his facial features and into his shoulders.
He decided to do something to get the jerks and jumps off his mind, so walked over to his on deck bag and pulled out his silver laptop. It had crashed onto the floor, been thrown across the room and left on top of the bus, had various dents and the occasional grease and texta mark but it was in excellent working condition so he couldn't care less for the appearance and experiences it had been through. He held onto the laptop tightly, but it soon fell off his lap as his right foot and left shoulder jerked at the same time with the same velocity. He groaned in annoyance but picked it up and dusted it down lightly before placing it on the table in front of him.
He smiled as he trailed through the band's various my space comments, commenting back on the ones who hadn't used chat speak and thanked them for turning up to the shows and listening to their music. He seethed slightly as his knee jerked upwards and hit the table but continued on nonetheless, trying to not be deterred by the pain searing through his knee and through his esteem. He typed away quietly and twenty minutes later, the tics had stopped coming so rapidly. He smiled to himself and exited out of the window before placing a pair of headphones over his head and plugging the other end into the laptop. He smirked as a song with a great dance beat and awesome guitar riffs blared through. The headphones were quickly ripped off his head as his band mates came through the bus, all still sweaty and adrenaline rushed after the performance.
"Sam, that last set was great man. I mean, the way you jumped into the crowd and then our group guitar head bang, absolutely amazing! I don't think we've ever played better, really," Alex exclaimed as he walked over to the lounge. He picked a magazine up and flipped through before running out suddenly, still in a hype.
"He's a mad person, that one," he heard someone mutter before he laughed and checked a nearby clock. He walked over to the kitchen's medicine cabinet and took some vitamins and a painkiller before getting off the bus to see what had happened to Alex.
He laughed again as he found the man lying on the ground and kicking at the air. He decided to hold his hand out and pulled his friend up before joking around with him, stringing out stories of parties with the occasional arm movement to dramatise the story a bit more. He was mid-sentence when his foot jerked, but he acted as though it was nothing and continued on. His shoulder pulled back and he grimaced slightly, but once again continued. At the second foot jerk he excused himself before going back inside the bus and opening the medicine cabinet. He ran his fingers through his hair as he scanned over the various labels before finding the painkillers again and a small, square box containing twelve anti-depressants. He swallowed two of the anti-depressants before taking half a painkiller and taking a large gulp of bottled water. He sighed and sat down on the lounge, ignoring the fact he had left his friend out there, instead letting the medicine flow through his system and become accustom to the control which now stretched slightly as he closed his eyes and stretched his arms. His fingers shaked slightly but soon stopped. He smiled as he opened eyes and observed his surroundings before walking outside.
"Hey, Sam, when's our next set?" a voice asked from beside him and he gave a shrug of his shoulders before he pulled a creased and folded piece of paper out from his pocket. His eyes slipped over it carefully before he noticed the highlighted time.
"Tomorrow, eleven in the morning, early set. Crap, no sleep in then," he muttered, mainly to himself, but he could see the nods of agreement from the corner of his eyes. He folded it back up again and slipped it into his back pocket before pacing slightly, he could feel the eyes placed on him and quickly explained.
"Just bored is all, nothing to do, not really wanting to play any games at the moment," he summed up before the others nodded again. He watched as a new face lingered on his own. He gave it a quizzical look and it returned the same one.
"Who're you?" he asked bluntly. The person seemed slightly taken aback but answered nonetheless.
"I'm your new sound technician. My name's Lily," she responded.
Sam nodded and shook her hand before looking towards the rock-ridden grounds they were playing at. He wanted to be on stage again, because when he was on stage he felt invincible. He had control over himself, his band and the crowd. It was the only time he had any control, and it lasted a mere 45 minutes unfortunately. It was bliss for him, away from medication, doctors, and critics and any issues or problems he had to deal with at that present moment in time.
He heard the new sound tech faintly say goodbye to them and nodded her off before delving into the adrenaline laced memories of being onstage again. He could feel a smile erupt onto his features as he viewed the crowd and the unknown faces hidden within it, his band mates fingers and hands flying at a speed he could only wish to achieve, as well as members from other bands watching their set with intense concentration. He felt the microphone in his grip and the cord connecting his microphone to the PA system whipping around him and slashing the air, his feet jumping on the hard rubber and his voice echoing out across the grounds. It was pure, phenomenal bliss.
"Sam, we're going to go get some tea, are you coming?" someone next to him asked. He gave a quick nod and made a note to stay out of his world whilst around people, but he knew he would just as easily rather forgot that note than he would stay out of his memories. He walked at a determined pace, feeling confident and hopeful now that his tics had finally waned for the day. Sam observed the sunset cautiously as he walked, making mental notes on the different levels of saturation and darkness of the crimson red, faded yellow and earthy blue. He compared it to himself, his esteem faded but still bright, his illness the crimson red of his life and the earthy blue was how his illness affected him. Sam Carter knew he was different, but as he walked to the diner, he realised he wasn’t that different to other people and his irregularity was what made him who he was. Sam Carter was invincible.
At that moment, he was on his bus and playing around on the laptop that was shared with the group. He had only just come off stage a mere half hour ago and his tics had just started to stop. He had suppressed it during the concert and the interview afterwards with the little confidence within himself and self control he had over it, but as soon as he stepped onto the bus, it came flooding onto his facial features and into his shoulders.
He decided to do something to get the jerks and jumps off his mind, so walked over to his on deck bag and pulled out his silver laptop. It had crashed onto the floor, been thrown across the room and left on top of the bus, had various dents and the occasional grease and texta mark but it was in excellent working condition so he couldn't care less for the appearance and experiences it had been through. He held onto the laptop tightly, but it soon fell off his lap as his right foot and left shoulder jerked at the same time with the same velocity. He groaned in annoyance but picked it up and dusted it down lightly before placing it on the table in front of him.
He smiled as he trailed through the band's various my space comments, commenting back on the ones who hadn't used chat speak and thanked them for turning up to the shows and listening to their music. He seethed slightly as his knee jerked upwards and hit the table but continued on nonetheless, trying to not be deterred by the pain searing through his knee and through his esteem. He typed away quietly and twenty minutes later, the tics had stopped coming so rapidly. He smiled to himself and exited out of the window before placing a pair of headphones over his head and plugging the other end into the laptop. He smirked as a song with a great dance beat and awesome guitar riffs blared through. The headphones were quickly ripped off his head as his band mates came through the bus, all still sweaty and adrenaline rushed after the performance.
"Sam, that last set was great man. I mean, the way you jumped into the crowd and then our group guitar head bang, absolutely amazing! I don't think we've ever played better, really," Alex exclaimed as he walked over to the lounge. He picked a magazine up and flipped through before running out suddenly, still in a hype.
"He's a mad person, that one," he heard someone mutter before he laughed and checked a nearby clock. He walked over to the kitchen's medicine cabinet and took some vitamins and a painkiller before getting off the bus to see what had happened to Alex.
He laughed again as he found the man lying on the ground and kicking at the air. He decided to hold his hand out and pulled his friend up before joking around with him, stringing out stories of parties with the occasional arm movement to dramatise the story a bit more. He was mid-sentence when his foot jerked, but he acted as though it was nothing and continued on. His shoulder pulled back and he grimaced slightly, but once again continued. At the second foot jerk he excused himself before going back inside the bus and opening the medicine cabinet. He ran his fingers through his hair as he scanned over the various labels before finding the painkillers again and a small, square box containing twelve anti-depressants. He swallowed two of the anti-depressants before taking half a painkiller and taking a large gulp of bottled water. He sighed and sat down on the lounge, ignoring the fact he had left his friend out there, instead letting the medicine flow through his system and become accustom to the control which now stretched slightly as he closed his eyes and stretched his arms. His fingers shaked slightly but soon stopped. He smiled as he opened eyes and observed his surroundings before walking outside.
"Hey, Sam, when's our next set?" a voice asked from beside him and he gave a shrug of his shoulders before he pulled a creased and folded piece of paper out from his pocket. His eyes slipped over it carefully before he noticed the highlighted time.
"Tomorrow, eleven in the morning, early set. Crap, no sleep in then," he muttered, mainly to himself, but he could see the nods of agreement from the corner of his eyes. He folded it back up again and slipped it into his back pocket before pacing slightly, he could feel the eyes placed on him and quickly explained.
"Just bored is all, nothing to do, not really wanting to play any games at the moment," he summed up before the others nodded again. He watched as a new face lingered on his own. He gave it a quizzical look and it returned the same one.
"Who're you?" he asked bluntly. The person seemed slightly taken aback but answered nonetheless.
"I'm your new sound technician. My name's Lily," she responded.
Sam nodded and shook her hand before looking towards the rock-ridden grounds they were playing at. He wanted to be on stage again, because when he was on stage he felt invincible. He had control over himself, his band and the crowd. It was the only time he had any control, and it lasted a mere 45 minutes unfortunately. It was bliss for him, away from medication, doctors, and critics and any issues or problems he had to deal with at that present moment in time.
He heard the new sound tech faintly say goodbye to them and nodded her off before delving into the adrenaline laced memories of being onstage again. He could feel a smile erupt onto his features as he viewed the crowd and the unknown faces hidden within it, his band mates fingers and hands flying at a speed he could only wish to achieve, as well as members from other bands watching their set with intense concentration. He felt the microphone in his grip and the cord connecting his microphone to the PA system whipping around him and slashing the air, his feet jumping on the hard rubber and his voice echoing out across the grounds. It was pure, phenomenal bliss.
"Sam, we're going to go get some tea, are you coming?" someone next to him asked. He gave a quick nod and made a note to stay out of his world whilst around people, but he knew he would just as easily rather forgot that note than he would stay out of his memories. He walked at a determined pace, feeling confident and hopeful now that his tics had finally waned for the day. Sam observed the sunset cautiously as he walked, making mental notes on the different levels of saturation and darkness of the crimson red, faded yellow and earthy blue. He compared it to himself, his esteem faded but still bright, his illness the crimson red of his life and the earthy blue was how his illness affected him. Sam Carter knew he was different, but as he walked to the diner, he realised he wasn’t that different to other people and his irregularity was what made him who he was. Sam Carter was invincible.
♠ ♠ ♠
Hope you enjoyed.