Just to let you know...I have somewhat of an obsession with Bartolomeo right now.. and so I told myself, "Self. You need to put Bartolomeo in a ton of stories. Right now." and so i am following my own orders by beginning to write this short story. Be aware that at this exact moment, I have no clue what I'm going to write. So whatever I think of first gets typed. XD
A Tale of Bartolomeo
Bartolomeo whistled as he sauntered through the mall, hands in his black skinny jeans, looking around at all the major losers that were walking around him. He literally looked down on all of them! Some of the mothers would whisper to their child and then walk away from the green-haired, tattooed teen. It appeared that most everyone was terrified of him; which he somewhat liked.
The main character of this story, Bartolomeo, is a bit lonely. Mainly because of what was just previously stated; most people were afraid of him. In some cases, he liked being able to scare away others. It made him feel like the top-dog; the King. But even back when he decided to grow his blond hair out, his mom would always scold him for having such long locks. His dad would just shake his head everytime his wife said something about it; like words couldn't even describe how dissapointed he was in his son. Bartolomeo didn't get it. What's so wrong about having long hair?
When Bartolomeo turned 15, he dyed his hair lime green. He had already gotten used to his parent's opinions, and didn't even care anymore. This young teenager just wanted to stand out and do his own thing, seeing as everyone else in his town was just made up a monotone and monochrome world. Bartolomeo started listening to heavy metal, like he could relate to the lyrics in some way. He even bought his own electric guitar and taught himself how to play. Until he was 17, our buddy Bart was even in a band with some friends that he met at the park, of all places. But once Bellamy, lead singer and best friend, was murdered in a gang fight, everyone else in the band sort of mourned on their own and silently parted ways. Bartolomeo still hasn't seen them since.
After his mourning of Bellamy, Bartolomeo decided to get his nose and ears pierced. His parents never would've signed a paper, let alone pay, to let him, so he found some guy who would do it for cheap. Sure, it hurt like a bitch, but it was nothing compared to how Bellamy died. So in a way, that golden ring was almost a reminder to Bartolomeo that 'If you think you have it bad; look around. There are people who have it worse."
So just a short while after getting the piercings, Bartolomeo sold his guitar and all his videogames and everything else that he deemed okay to sell. And along with the money he got from his part time job, he saved up enough to get a tattoo just a few months ago. It matches the gold ring in his nose, well, the visible part; but the tattoo has wings on the side, almost like an angel. These two reminders meant a lot to Bartolomeo, and always reminded him to cherish life while he had it; to do what you want while you could! And so he did.
Now, back to the present, where an 18-year-old Bartolomeo was walking semi-care-free through the mall, looking for a nice new pair of skinny jeans. He passed a few stores, but then he turned around. He looked back up at the shop that he just passed; Hot Topic. It was perfect. So after buying his jeans, and few more t-shirts that he really shouldn't have bought but did anyway, Bartolomeo stepped out of the shop back into the busy hall, flooded with 'short' people. Bartolomeo didn't exactly have a habit of looking where he was going, and he nearly knocked over a brown-haired girl wearing a skimpy dress that showed probably too much skin.
"Hey, watch where you're going, freak!" The girl said, as she flipped her hair with annoyance and continued hurridly on her way. Bartolomeo just stood there, hands in pockets once more, and whistled. She's pretty hot.. oh stop, Barto, you know you can't even get a girl; or a guy, whatever sexuality you are...
So our nose-ringed one sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he carried his shopping bag, and self, out of the mall and back to his 'Bartmobile'. Yeah... he didn't name it. XD
While in his car, Bartolomeo played his CD of different dubstep and and techno songs, which he was getting into more into then the current rock bands. He tapped his black-painted fingernails on the steering wheel as he hummed along, knowing every song by heart. The sun was setting in the late-summer evening, making driving just a bit more difficult as the orange sunlight burned through every driver's head. After driving through a busy intersection, Bartolomeo took a left on the second street after the intersection. He pulled his car into the small parking lot, and then shut his car off as one of the CD's songs ended. The black fingernailed-hand quickly grabbed his shopping bag, and then opened his car door. He stepped out, accidentally slammed his car door (as usual), and then locked it as he walked away into the apartment building.
After 4 flights of stairs, Bartolomeo walked down the hallway to his right, and pulled out a key as he neared the 7th door down on the left. Fingers put the key in the keyhole, then turned, and finally pushed the door open slowly and with a creek. Bartolomeo shut his eyes and sighed as he turned on the light, walked inside, and then shut the front door again.
"Kidd!"
Said teen, of the same age as Bartolomeo poked his head out their room and looked at Bartolomeo, who was walking towards him.
"Hmm? Oh, welcome home, Bartolomeo," Kidd said, opening the bedroom door more to let his roomate in also.
The two odd-haired 18-year-olds had been held back their freshman year of highschool together; mainly because they were constantly fighting.. each other. But after news of their holding back reached them, the two decided that maybe getting along would be better. So over that summer, they learned how to talk and communicate without giving each other black-eyes. And now they grew such a strong friendship, I guess, that Kidd and Bartolomeo decided to get away from their old and judgemental parents and live together, both working to pay rent and such. The two surprisingly had a lot in common, and both knew in their minds that somehow God had planned for them to meet each other. Nothing lovy or anything, just, to share in each other's trust and friendship.
"Thanks," Bartolomeo muttered as he dropped the paper bag on the dresser, and then fell backwards onto their bed. Yes, 'their'. Times are tough, and they had to make a one bedroom apartment work. Neither one of the two had any problem with one bed, either. They were familiar enough with each other that it didn't matter anymore. Plus, both thought that the mattress was heavenly~, which it is. But anyway, back to the the main topic.
Kidd sat down next to Bartolomeo and gave his friend an odd look. Bartolomeo glared back, making the red-head turn away.
"What?" Bartolomeo asked, propping himself up on an elbow.
"You just don't look too good," Kidd stated in monotone, scratching the back of his head.
"Don't look too good as in.. sick? Or.. ugly?" Bartolomeo questioned, raising an eyebrow, "'Cause I'm used to both comments." Kidd rolled his eyes with a slight smirk, and then shook his head.
"More like, you-might-cry-yourself-to-sleep depressed-looking," Kidd replied with a hand gesture to emphasize his words. Bartolomeo's eyes widened at that statement, and then looked in the mirror which was placed on top of the cream-colored dresser (Which Kidd frugally made himself). Bartolomeo rubbed his eyes, and then looked at himself again. He admitted to himself that he did look a bit.. off. Thanks, Ms. Showy-dress, for makin' me feel all lonely and such~, the green-haired teen thought to himself.
"Eh, whatever, forget what I said," Kidd suggested, waving his hand as if he were swatting his statement away. Bartolomeo shrugged with a smile and then laughed. Kidd smiled at seeing his friend laugh and then realized the shopping bag on the floor. The redhead leaned over and picked up a Daft Punk t-shirt out of the bag.
"Nice choice," Kidd said, looking over the shirt and then holding it up to Bartolomeo's chest.
"You're acting like my mom, Kidd!" Bartolomeo laughed as he took the shirt from his friend's hands. Kidd put a hand to his own mouth, acting as if he were hurt by Bartolomeo's words.
"I am notttt.. ahahaha!"
The two both laughed for a while, and then fell silent. After a while, Kidd started ripped the price tags off folded the new clothes. He then handed them to Bartolomeo who would neatly stuff the new clothes into the emptiest drawer in the dresser. The entire room was neat, in fact. Despite their slight difficulty with money, Bartolomeo made sure everything looked lively, and Kidd made sure everything was neat. And so, the two had combined their strengths to form a very interesting room.
The cream walls, painted by Bartolomeo, matched the paint on the dresser, and the color of the pillow cases and sheets on the bed, which were placed and tucked symetrically. The window curtains were a light blue, which matched the rug underneath their feet and the comforter, for when it got cold outside. There was also a dark blue picture that hung on the wall right above the bed. The picture itself was of the roomates and their few friends a few days after Bellamy died, and the whole get-together was for trying to cheer Bartolomeo up. It certainly did enough to make Bartolomeo grin in the picture, which always made Kidd happy when he looked at the picture. Kidd had briefly known Bellamy, not as a best friend, but just enough to be able to mourn with Bartolomeo. It was a sad time for everyone who knew or heard of Bellamy.
Kidd layed down on his side of the bed, putting his hands behind his head, and smiled as Bartolomeo took a step back to look at the room again. Small, but enough. Kidd then looked over at their alarm clock and saw what time it was. 8:37. The red-head had eaten dinner by himself at 6, but wasn't sure if the tattooed one had eaten yet.
"Have you eaten yet?"
"Hmm?"
"I asked if you've had dinner yet.."
Bartolomeo looked up at the ceiling, and then put a hand on his stomach. He then blinked, signifying that he found an answer.
"My gut tells me that I did not, and that it is slightly hungry."
Kidd closed his eyes and grinned, knowing that Bartolomeo was actually about ready to throw up acid if he didn't eat soon. That's just the kind of guy he was, and Kidd knew it. So the red fingernailed hands helped push Kidd off the bed, and then opened the bedroom door to the hallway. Bartolomeo followed, sheepishly smiling and holding his stomach. Kidd walked into the small kitchen and then opened the half-filled pantry.
"Okay. Whaddaya want?" Kidd asked, looking through the inventory of food that they had. Bartolomeo glared at his roommate embarrassedly, and poked a finger into the red-head's chest.
"Again, I don't want two moms," Bartolomeo said, taking a package of ramen off one of the shelves and breaking the noodles apart inside the package. Kidd rolled his eyes and smiled again, shutting the pantry door shut and grabbing a pot from one of the lower cabinets.
"Two cups of water, right?" Kidd asked, holding the pot under the faucet. Bartolomeo nodded, and then Kidd let exactly two cups of water splatter into the metal cooking untensil. The redhead then handed the pot to his friend, who set the pot on the burner. And with a quick turn of the knob, the water was on its way to boiling.
~ + mwahahaha ive been on a maniac-ish writing-spree XD and yeah ._. Bartolomeo needs some more love, people! XD OHS! importante.. if you have a love for a very rare or odd pairing, i might just be willing to write a short story/something for you! Tell me what you like, and I'll let you know what I think! ~+ ~