Disclaimer: I don't own Max, the BladeBreakers, the guy Max is in love with, the guy Max thinks would be the only male to have a chance with the guy he's in love with, of any CD's and/or records of said guy, despite a deep-set desire to own one.
Red
by: Ringo Cook
Max had always liked the color red. Why, he wasn't sure. It had just always been a very sentimental color to him. He wasn't even sure if a color could be describe as 'sentimental', but that really seemed to be the only word he could use for it.
For one reason of another he's always associated it with- well- him. Seeing red always made Max think of him, even if it was just a stop sign, or an apple on a tree.
Who is 'he', exactly? That's something that will not be disclosed, here. All you need to know is this. Max loves him, and has loved him sence he was just a kid, listening to him on his dads old records, or watching him on TV in the morning.
He didn't sing in the records, but he was always there. Max had somehow developed the ability to pick out when it was him on guitar, bass, or whichever intrument, and when it was someone else. It was almost never someone else.
The records had all gotten scratched, or broken, (luckily, Max had made several back-up copies of all them, on cassette) but he was still on TV, and more beautifal then ever. Max watched whenever he got the chance, and still longed to see him in concert, with his other band.
Max never dared buy one of the CDs, lest it lead to uncomfortable queastions he didn't really want to answer, and honestly wasn't prepared for. He wasn't sure how the other BladeBreakers would take his love for this man. They would all tell him he didn't have a chance, in so many words, as if he didn't know that.
Yes, Max knew he didn't have a snowballs chance in hell with the object of his affections. He was happily married, with children (albiet a stupidly named son), and was years upon years older then him, to boot. Max knew that if there was any chance on his love getting together with any male, it was his bandmate on the keyboard.
Max smiled at the thought of them together, then picked up his notebook- the pretty one, with red paper, and faery on the cover- and began to write, with his purple pen. He wasn't quite sure what this one was going to be about, but he was sure of one thing.
Tomarrow, at this time, the other BladeBreakers would know about his love for this angel of the heavens. If they didn't accept it, to hell with them. He knew some people who would, and did.
His fellow groupies.
The End
Author Note: Well, how was that? I kind of liked it. Which means, of course, Mrs. Harrison will waste no time telling me it's 'creepy', 'wrong', 'sick', or any of a very long list of words she could use for it. If I let her read it.
Anyway, do any of my three readers have any idea who Max is in love with? I know. If you've read any of my other storys, you might know. Heh. Then agein, you might not even associate this with that.
Red
by: Ringo Cook
Max had always liked the color red. Why, he wasn't sure. It had just always been a very sentimental color to him. He wasn't even sure if a color could be describe as 'sentimental', but that really seemed to be the only word he could use for it.
For one reason of another he's always associated it with- well- him. Seeing red always made Max think of him, even if it was just a stop sign, or an apple on a tree.
Who is 'he', exactly? That's something that will not be disclosed, here. All you need to know is this. Max loves him, and has loved him sence he was just a kid, listening to him on his dads old records, or watching him on TV in the morning.
He didn't sing in the records, but he was always there. Max had somehow developed the ability to pick out when it was him on guitar, bass, or whichever intrument, and when it was someone else. It was almost never someone else.
The records had all gotten scratched, or broken, (luckily, Max had made several back-up copies of all them, on cassette) but he was still on TV, and more beautifal then ever. Max watched whenever he got the chance, and still longed to see him in concert, with his other band.
Max never dared buy one of the CDs, lest it lead to uncomfortable queastions he didn't really want to answer, and honestly wasn't prepared for. He wasn't sure how the other BladeBreakers would take his love for this man. They would all tell him he didn't have a chance, in so many words, as if he didn't know that.
Yes, Max knew he didn't have a snowballs chance in hell with the object of his affections. He was happily married, with children (albiet a stupidly named son), and was years upon years older then him, to boot. Max knew that if there was any chance on his love getting together with any male, it was his bandmate on the keyboard.
Max smiled at the thought of them together, then picked up his notebook- the pretty one, with red paper, and faery on the cover- and began to write, with his purple pen. He wasn't quite sure what this one was going to be about, but he was sure of one thing.
Tomarrow, at this time, the other BladeBreakers would know about his love for this angel of the heavens. If they didn't accept it, to hell with them. He knew some people who would, and did.
His fellow groupies.
The End
Author Note: Well, how was that? I kind of liked it. Which means, of course, Mrs. Harrison will waste no time telling me it's 'creepy', 'wrong', 'sick', or any of a very long list of words she could use for it. If I let her read it.
Anyway, do any of my three readers have any idea who Max is in love with? I know. If you've read any of my other storys, you might know. Heh. Then agein, you might not even associate this with that.