"Beautiful Disaster"
He drowns in his dreams. He lives his dreams, everyday again. He's a rockstar, a popstar, musician extraordinaire. An exquisite extreme, I know, he's got a chance of one in a lifetime and travels all around the world. Does it make him cocky? Does it make him arrogant?
It doesn't, he stays reserved and calm, hides his insecurities and lives, lives his dreams.
I see it as I watch him, like I always do.
He's just standing there, leaning against the lockers. Listening to what the others have to say, once in a while glancing up to watch their faces, before he returns to the soft world of music he spends so much time in. Because he's a dreamer. His eyes not focussed on anything but the melodies that obviously dance in front of his eyes, he's not interested in anything else. Yes, he's as damned as he seems, but at the same time mangages to catch everything that happens around him. Multi-tasking? He brings it to a new level.
Once in a while, a soft smile graces his lips as he watches his friends. He glances at me, with the same glance, even though I wish it would brighten, it doesn't. His eyes leave me and I am left to stare at his face, as his attention is grabbed by something else. Joe has pulled him back from his dream-land. He depends on Joe for that. They are brothers after all.
He's more heaven than a heart could hold. If I had the guts to sigh now, I would.
Pure innocence and yet, wiser then an old man.
He shouldn't be facing some of the things this world has in store for him, I should know, I've been through them.
He would come through them too, but I keep wishing that life'll spare him. That he won't have to see the things people do to get his loyalty, his heart, that same innocence. But if I try to save him, my whole world could cave in. I buried my feelings long ago.
He stands there, watches as Stella and Joe snap at each other in another one of their strange mating-dances. Naturally giving his (now red) cookie to Kevin (because he knows the blue ones scare him) whose face lights up, making him smile too.
I watch him as he walks away through the halls, suddenly. Nobody notices, because he trails off more then often, needing his alone time. I follow his tall, yet almost skinny form with my trained eyes as his scan the halls absent mindedly. The brown pools of heaven don't notice me. I don't know what he's after
But he's so beautiful. Such a beautiful disaster.
Math, possibly my favourite subject, even over PE, because we're the only ones in the advanced-class. Of our little group of people anyway.
He sits next to me and yes, he talks. He talks like he never does when there are more people listening. We laugh, because he's funny. We laugh because every time he smiles at me, my cheeks light up bright red and I blame on it on the leftover fan-girl in me.
He explains how to divide my numbers, using words I can not bother to understand, yet I have to, if I want to hold on to these hours. Failing is not an option. I have to hold on, through the tears and the laughter.
To my beautiful disaster.
I see him talking to his fans, with a hug and a smile answering all their chatter and questions, ever as patient. His expression is genuine and they're bewitched, like I was the firs time I looked into his eyes. He's magic. They know, I know, we all know. Everyone but him.
I look as he faces the every-day struggle of his diabetes, when the fans leave and he drives a needle through the skin of his fingers. He's strong, facing this and still going on, going on and going on. He's been through so much; break-ups, getting kicked off record-labels, his diabetes. A tragedy with more damage then a soul should see. I know it all hurt him. .Even though he doesn't show it. He's as strong as what I believe and more. He's a myth. No one completely understands him.
Maybe that's why I watch him, sitting on an invisible chair, to not bother all the people running around the stage to prepare for tonights show.
To understand a little of the enigma he is. Not like Joe, with his heart on his tongue, not like Kevin, open like a book to read for everyone. He's open, oh he is. But at the same time, he's a mystery, untouchable.
And do I try to change him? No, no one ever should and I don't think anyone ever could. His sould, what he is, is stronger then that.
And do I blame him? Blame him for the hurt in my heart? Blame him for everytime my heart breaks and fixes when I see him?
No, I just hold on tight
Sometimes, I wonder if he does to. It's the little things, the smiles. Because he does smile, if you pay attention. Which I obviously do. The little touches, the brushing of my hair behind my ear. Because we are friends, he does talk to me, even though not that often, hedoesn't talk that often.
I don't know what he's after, with him you never know. But he's so beautiful, so I don't complain.
Such a beautiful disaster.
Through the tears and the laughter, at his home, in his room. In the hole of his bed. The movie we were watching forgotten. Would it be beautiful? Or just a beautiful disaster?
I'm longing for love, because yes, I am in love with him. To me it's logical, even though he isn't.
He's only happy hysterical, though not in public, but when alone. He can be crazy, absolutely insanely cute and crazy.
I'm waiting for some kind of miracle, to make that crazyness mine. I laugh at his sillyness, while charishing it at the same time.
Waited so long. So long. But I can wait forever, because even if he doesn't love me, I could watch him forever.
His hand reaches for mine, backstage at his concert. He swallows, he's nervous. I know, even though he seems so sure.
He is as nervous as Joe, who is walking back and forth between Stella and the wall, which he bounces against.
He's more nervous then Kevin, who is ticking his fingers on the neck of his guitar. His touch is soft, his fingers laced with mine as he whispers: "You think I can do this, Mace? Honestly?"
He's afraid he'll break, always afraid he's never enough.
"Of course you can. You practised till perfection, it are your songs, your melodies. Your friends, remember?"
He smiles, for real and whispers, looking at me; "Yes, I remember."
He questions if he's enough and still he's more than I can take.
Then, suddenly, the warmth of his hand is gone and I watch him walk towards Kevin, in a snap decision, he has those often. He starts to talk to his brother. His voice is almost hissing, but friendly and calm as a smile spreads over Kevin's face. I don't know what he's after, but even like that, with his curls in his face and an almost child like excited expression, he's so beautiful.
Such a beautiful disaster.
A tear runs over my face, not knowing why, I just wish I could hold on to that face of excitement, even throught the tears.
I laugh, at my own sillyness and even through the laughter I knew that he is more beautiful then I deserve. A beautiful disaster to my heart.
--
There he is, on stage. The place where he belongs. He shines as he looks at all the screaming fans. He's in his element. His own personal heaven and dream.
Music is to him, what he is to me. I can only watch and I love it. Even though he will never love me as long as he's there and happy. I'm fine. I'm good, because he's beautiful. Such a beautiful disaster.
Drabble/songfic, cute in my mind. Hope you like it and make of it what you want. I hope you liked it. love you all. Sorry for the mistakes.
Partly inspired by My Fluorescent X Glows Orange and I hope this'll make her feel better.
Silver