Want Me Not
Summery: Since Demon Days, Kong has been falling apart, and everyone has decided what to do with the rest of their days, unless they meet again for another album, if it ever happens. But when one member finds what he thought he wanted, why isn't he happy?
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Cold, small, dank, dark. Perfect words to compare this place to the creepy food storage room back in Kong, where the chills would run up and down his spine, and his normally shot out hair would freeze upwards even more. How he hated going down there alone. Usually he would drag Russel, when he could, but mostly Noodle. She was the one who ever had patience for him. The one who ever seemed to care. His large hand gently cradled the rust colored knob, turning it so slowly, memories were jogging faster.
"There is nothing here but food, 2D-san."
"I know, I know, but the feelin' tha' somethin' ain't right...somethin' about ready teh grab yeh, y'know?"
"I know you should stop watching those movies which upset the mind. It has begun to play tricks on you."
"I fink I'm old enough teh watch restricted rated movies, love. An' X rated if I want, even."
"Alright then, I assume I am not needed here since you can take care of yourself fine."
"No, no, no, no! Don't leave me 'ere! I-I'll lay off the movies! Wait! C-Come back!"
His dark eyes softly scanned over the room. It was nothing to look at. There was barely anything in it. Wooden desk, wooden chair, basic bed (also made of wood), mattress with plain cream sheets, a vase on the window sill holding a few Prickly Blue Poppies, the long purple blues mixing in with one another, making an unusual, but pleasant bouquet before the beautiful and pacific view of the snowy mountains. The snow was falling gently against the range, giving the whole scene an angelic look to it. Nature had never looked so heavenly. Watching it from the telly on the Discovery Channel was nothing compared to this rare form of beauty. This beauty was...untouched. Closing his eyes as he quietly closed his door, he realized there was no lock to secure himself at night, but he was going to have to get used to that. There was no need for alarm here. Zombies did not roam anywhere near this pure land, crazy bassists did not burst through doors and threaten lives, rushing Americans did not nag about missing meetings or appointments, but cheerful young women did not wake up the residents of this establishment, either. They didn't rub your shoulder or giggle in your ear. They didn't bounce on beds like giddy children, hating to waste a good day. They didn't start the day with beautiful smiles.
In this new world, they didn't exist.
"Mail's 'ere, an' 2D! Yeh got some bloody package! S'almost as 'eavy as you!"
"Very funny, Murdoc. Let's 'ave it."
"Wot is it? Feels like five issues o' Playboy."
"Wull, its not. I'll be in m' room."
"Oh, tha's real convincing."
A world without Murdoc. He could still remember it. But...life wasn't as fun, to be honest. It was simply hunky dory, and he was fine with that, no complaining. Loving parents, passing grades, a little teasing here and there, his first couple of jobs, then that last job which earned him his title one. With fame came the price of pain...and facial rearrangements. But as soon as the world was viewable through his own eyes again, boom, he earned himself a roommate, boom, proving his voice and piano talents, boom, getting noticed by spacing off, grabbing girls' attention, being forced to help partake in a kidnapping which resulted in their drummer, moving into a haunted hell of a house, finding love then hating to have ever experienced it, meeting strange people, opening a foreign crate and realizing Japanese people could travel in it, learning the steps of parenthood, making CDs and winning awards...becoming rich.
So much progress, and then, in a matter of weeks, it stops.
The corridor was quiet aside from the rubber soles of the flat brown boots the young man was wearing, each step timely placed because of his awkward figure, but it got him where he needed to go. Down the stairs, through the doorway, and into the warm, medium sized room he called his own. He slowly shut the door with the heel of his foot while he leaned against it, taking a deep breath. The package in his hand...the yellow, obviously bubble taped within package in his grip held the answer of his future. Taking a second deep breath, he shakily undid the tape at the edge and dug inside, fingers gripping against the papers inside. The papers he had filled out long ago.
Sitting on his bed, he stretched out, having his feet rest against the floor while his back laid across the mattress, staring at the cement ceiling, white and chalky. His single suitcase next to him, unopened, but waiting to be, his temptation to open, but his will not to. Hands slowly sliding over his belly button, the bony, masculine tools of music curved into a fold, intertwining fingers as more thoughts passed through the assumed blank mind. Thinking...he'd have all the time in the world to think now. All the time in the world. What more could he want?
...Want nothing...feel something...the peace is within you.
See nature...hear beauty...the journey is almost complete.
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Author's Note: I dunno, I could leave it as a once shot, or I can make it into a chapter story. Up to you guys. I'm definitely ready if you guys want more! I kinda liked it. If continued though, it will turn into humour-ish and perhaps romance (like you weren't expecting that XD). But definitly a cold lonely start off. Bonus to anyone who can figure out who this is (everyone should know this, I mean come on, really) and where they are (miiight be a little trickier)!
