Status: BACK AGAIN! ~w00t
Chasing the Night
It's called 'breakup'
Travis Clark felt lousy.
His pale face was void of emotions, a blank canvas. He stared straight ahead, at nothing in particular, dark circles painfully evident underneath his blue eyes. He looked gaunt. He hadn’t slept at all the previous night. It was like life, as he knew it, had just stopped all together.
His girlfriend of eight years had just broken up with him.
Eight years!
He just couldn’t believe it. Eight freaking years, for what? Nothing. She was gone and he was left behind, a broken, silent mess. His band mates had been worried – of course – but nothing they said could make the pain go away. They’d tried, and failed miserably, to cheer him up. It was just so unlike Travis to be acting the way he was. He was usually the life of the party – the one who never stopped smiling. But when she had left, she’d taken a part of Travis with her. A part that Travis knew he’d never be able to replace.
He’d tried to write about it, put everything down on paper and sing his lungs out about it, but nothing. He was just blank. The words were there, he could feel it – he just didn’t know how to explain himself. No one did. His family had called several times – all of which he had ignored. His band mates had told people ‘Travis just needs to be alone right now’ or ‘he’s just going through a rough patch, he’ll come around.’ He’d hardly spoken, or eaten, for that matter. His friends were starting to freak out.
Nothing felt right. Travis just felt lost. He looked around his room at all the crumpled balls of paper that littered the floor. Songs he’d tried so hard to write, with words that just wouldn’t come together, or didn’t say what he felt exactly. No one could ever understand. Travis had never felt so utterly broken before. This feeling was entirely new to him, and he didn’t like it one bit.
He ran a hand through his long, ginger hair. It was greasy and unwashed. His face was unshaven. He resembled a zombie, and felt even worse. He glanced tiredly over the other side of the room, where a large poster was stuck to the wall.
Warped Tour! Have the time of your life!
It read in irritatingly bright colours.
Yeah, right, Travis thought glumly.
It was sure to be his worst tour yet.
His pale face was void of emotions, a blank canvas. He stared straight ahead, at nothing in particular, dark circles painfully evident underneath his blue eyes. He looked gaunt. He hadn’t slept at all the previous night. It was like life, as he knew it, had just stopped all together.
His girlfriend of eight years had just broken up with him.
Eight years!
He just couldn’t believe it. Eight freaking years, for what? Nothing. She was gone and he was left behind, a broken, silent mess. His band mates had been worried – of course – but nothing they said could make the pain go away. They’d tried, and failed miserably, to cheer him up. It was just so unlike Travis to be acting the way he was. He was usually the life of the party – the one who never stopped smiling. But when she had left, she’d taken a part of Travis with her. A part that Travis knew he’d never be able to replace.
He’d tried to write about it, put everything down on paper and sing his lungs out about it, but nothing. He was just blank. The words were there, he could feel it – he just didn’t know how to explain himself. No one did. His family had called several times – all of which he had ignored. His band mates had told people ‘Travis just needs to be alone right now’ or ‘he’s just going through a rough patch, he’ll come around.’ He’d hardly spoken, or eaten, for that matter. His friends were starting to freak out.
Nothing felt right. Travis just felt lost. He looked around his room at all the crumpled balls of paper that littered the floor. Songs he’d tried so hard to write, with words that just wouldn’t come together, or didn’t say what he felt exactly. No one could ever understand. Travis had never felt so utterly broken before. This feeling was entirely new to him, and he didn’t like it one bit.
He ran a hand through his long, ginger hair. It was greasy and unwashed. His face was unshaven. He resembled a zombie, and felt even worse. He glanced tiredly over the other side of the room, where a large poster was stuck to the wall.
Warped Tour! Have the time of your life!
It read in irritatingly bright colours.
Yeah, right, Travis thought glumly.
It was sure to be his worst tour yet.
♠ ♠ ♠
New story. Just getting started. Give it a chance to get better?Leave a comment and I'll love you forever.
Chapter title credit - 'The last something that meant anything'
by Mayday Parade.
This song is beautiful and goes so perfectly with this chapter. Makes me cry. You should listen to it by clicking here.
:)