Adam Prays

So it seemed like nothing was right anymore. The road to fame and fortune had all but crushed the shattered rock star until he was on his knees from the pain that had crippled his legs. The headlines, the press, the paparazzi, the multitude of people wanting answers and wanting him to be their saving grace. The pressure of it all was too much for him to bear, at least, to bear alone.

The city seemed so beautiful outside his motel room, everyone else was at the party down below in one of the musician’s rooms. He took no notice to the bright lights that peeked through the curtains of his room, he paid no attention to the music that was vibrating the floor below his trembling knees. The only thing he heard was the breaths that seemed too painful to be breathing.

He felt like he was back in that small, insecure body of the little ginger-haired boy with the field of freckles on his skin; the outcast that was within the high school halls. The thought that he was still the little boy terrified him, it made him wonder if the last few years of everything he’s been through was all just a dream. Was the friends, the music, the lyrics, the places and beauty he saw, were they all just a fantasy of the things that he’s tried so hard to achieve?

The reflection in the mirror says different, the ache of his bones from the years that he’s worked so hard confirms the thoughts are false, and the wrinkles on his skin tells him that his current world is real, it’s true. But it doesn’t stop the ache in the core of his heart, pulsing with each beat.

So he closes his eyes, and for the first time in almost forever, he does the only thing he can do, Adam prays.