Status: ACTIVE. This is the only thing I do in my free time.
Painting Flowers
Prologue
The lights were bright.
So bright.
Blindingly bright.
Golds, blues and reds cast shadows on Alex as he took his steps forward. Each step felt heavy and weighted. Each step was in a different direction, he hadn’t a clue where he was going or where he was. Despite the light, each step was a step in the dark.
Alex reached out with a trembling hand and touched the object in front of him. Tall, thin, familiar. Sitting on top of the object was a smaller object. Alex picked it up and wrapped his fingers around it. He rubbed his thumb along the worn spots, the spots that were so incredibly natural to the touch. Memories of years of singing flashed to his mind and a knowing grin spread across his face. He now knew what he needed to do. Turning over the microphone he flipped the rough button on its side, creating a reverberating static. Bringing it to his lips he breathed, allowing his breath to jump around the room.
Then he heard the screaming.
It all became real; it all became the world in which Alex lived in everyday.
“Hello Baltimore!” he called into his microphone. The crowd went crazy, screaming his name and throwing phone numbers onto the stage. “I’m Alex James and we are The Read!” Another burst of excitement erupted from the crowd as the band began their first song. Chords and notes flowed seamlessly from their fingertips. This was not new. This was natural, safe.
Alex glanced to his left and right, admiring his best friends and band mates. Mark, flirtatious as always, was strumming his guitar and winking at the fans. Stevie, dark and mysterious, beat his bass with his head held low. Drummer Vinny struck his drums, an extension of his heartbeat. Alex was singing his lyrics, smiling into the crowd when he saw her.
He had been in love only once before. Love was an elusive ghost continually slipping through his fingers. If only he could reach out and grab it… he would. It appeared to him in the shape of a person, as a figment of his imagination. He was now looking into Love’s eyes all over again.
Past the drunken teens and the squealing thirteen year olds with their mothers was a girl standing directly in the center of the mosh pit. Again Alex saw the brown haired green-eyed girl that continued to haunt him. She wasn’t screaming or jumping, just listening. Listening and smiling. Alex stopped singing and shed his guitar.
“Hey… hey you!” He called to her. “YOU!” he said, louder this time. The girl only continued to smile as the world around them melted. Colors faded to gray and the music the band was playing became muffled and muted. The scene of the bustling club became Alex’s room as his echoing screams became softer and softer and softer…
So bright.
Blindingly bright.
Golds, blues and reds cast shadows on Alex as he took his steps forward. Each step felt heavy and weighted. Each step was in a different direction, he hadn’t a clue where he was going or where he was. Despite the light, each step was a step in the dark.
Alex reached out with a trembling hand and touched the object in front of him. Tall, thin, familiar. Sitting on top of the object was a smaller object. Alex picked it up and wrapped his fingers around it. He rubbed his thumb along the worn spots, the spots that were so incredibly natural to the touch. Memories of years of singing flashed to his mind and a knowing grin spread across his face. He now knew what he needed to do. Turning over the microphone he flipped the rough button on its side, creating a reverberating static. Bringing it to his lips he breathed, allowing his breath to jump around the room.
Then he heard the screaming.
It all became real; it all became the world in which Alex lived in everyday.
“Hello Baltimore!” he called into his microphone. The crowd went crazy, screaming his name and throwing phone numbers onto the stage. “I’m Alex James and we are The Read!” Another burst of excitement erupted from the crowd as the band began their first song. Chords and notes flowed seamlessly from their fingertips. This was not new. This was natural, safe.
Alex glanced to his left and right, admiring his best friends and band mates. Mark, flirtatious as always, was strumming his guitar and winking at the fans. Stevie, dark and mysterious, beat his bass with his head held low. Drummer Vinny struck his drums, an extension of his heartbeat. Alex was singing his lyrics, smiling into the crowd when he saw her.
He had been in love only once before. Love was an elusive ghost continually slipping through his fingers. If only he could reach out and grab it… he would. It appeared to him in the shape of a person, as a figment of his imagination. He was now looking into Love’s eyes all over again.
Past the drunken teens and the squealing thirteen year olds with their mothers was a girl standing directly in the center of the mosh pit. Again Alex saw the brown haired green-eyed girl that continued to haunt him. She wasn’t screaming or jumping, just listening. Listening and smiling. Alex stopped singing and shed his guitar.
“Hey… hey you!” He called to her. “YOU!” he said, louder this time. The girl only continued to smile as the world around them melted. Colors faded to gray and the music the band was playing became muffled and muted. The scene of the bustling club became Alex’s room as his echoing screams became softer and softer and softer…
♠ ♠ ♠
This is the prologue to the new and improved Painting Flowers! I will be updating the chapters as I go along.