Frank's strong hands gripped the nape of her neck, and she was forced to
walk forward or fall down in the mud. Tears mingled with rain and stained
her face.
"Columbia! I want you out of my house," Frank said in hushed tones, hardly audible above the pounding rain.
A small squeak almost escaped her lips, but was stifled as he though her to the ground. Her pajamas her stained with mud, and torn in the shoulder. She couldn't go on like this much longer, she could tell. She sobbed as she lay there, wishing he didn't have this power over her. She was but a groupie, and had less respect then the servants.
Frank observed her with glee. He knew she wouldn't go, she wasn't strong enough. This was fun for him, he wanted to tease her, make her beg for forgiveness. Columbia lay in a pile on the ground, wracking with sobs. He took a few coins from his pocket, and pelted them at her pale back.
"Here's your money you whore, now go!" Frank british accent mingled well with anger, and he sounded all the sexier.
Columbia looked up at him. His damp ebony curls framed his jaw. His beautiful eyes were accentuated by his makeup, even though the rain had caused it to run down his face like black tears. He was perfect, in his corset and fishnets. But look at her. She was pathetic, she was curled up on the ground, shivering from the autumn temperature.
"I'm a junkie. I'm a whore," she shivered as the chilling vocals rang through the trembling air. Her voice wa crisp and clear for once, and not at all shrill.
"That's what you always called me."
I am raw,
an open sore.
I ache to remind me..."
Frank raised a silent eyebrow at her sudden musical number, but did not utter a sound.
"I'm a weakling,
you are strong.
Pick me up from where I lay.
Here on a stolen sidewalk.
Baby, don't make me beg..."
He walked closer. This was proving to be more amusing than he expected. She was desperate. She needed him. But he would let her go on with her song.
"I'm religious once again.
We all are before we die...
and I am so sick to death.
Wasted tears I cry."
Columbia hung her head, afraid to look at Frank. Afraid to see him sneer. She was just afraid. The damp earth covered her body.
"And who said love would always mend,
and fill the emptiness again.
Should light a single candle...
make a prayer in my name."
The world love stung Frank's mind, and made him dizzy. Love was deep pure, this was not. This was just lust.. wasn't it?
"I'm a weakling,
you are strong.
Pick me up from where I lay.
Here on a stolen sidewalk.
Baby, don't make me beg.
I am not right,
you're not wrong.
I can't last another day.
Here on a stolen sidewalk.
Baby, don't make me beg..."
With more confidence this time, Columbia slowly looked up at Frank, who seemed just as nervous as she at this point. They were reduced to so little. Emotionally naked, and scared.
"The closest thing I found to heaven,
is sitting here, talking to you...
I'm the queen of western paradise,
don't you know,
nothing left for me to do."
A tear trickled down Frank's cheek, but it fell with the rain. He mattered to someone... that should be enough for him. But no... he couldn't let her see he had feelings. To her he must be emotionless. He must be cruel... he must be who everyone thought he was. What he was expected to be. Cruel... lustful.
"I'm a weakling,
you are strong.
Pick me up from where I lay.
Here on a stolen sidewalk.
Baby, don't make me beg.
I am not right,
you're not wrong.
I can't last another day.
Here on a stolen sidewalk.
Baby, don't make me beg..."
Columbia looked expectantly at Frank, and for a moment he had the look of a lost child cross over his face. But he couldn't let her see him vulnerable. He must be what he was expected to be.
With that he turned, and walked into the castle, leaving Columbia alone in the pouring rain. He knew she would follow soon.... she always did.
/A/N/ The lyrics are copyright Bif Naked, and it's a song called Stolen Sidewalk. Yay.. happy... sorry for the fluff folks, but I had a pretty bad day. Wheeee.../
"Columbia! I want you out of my house," Frank said in hushed tones, hardly audible above the pounding rain.
A small squeak almost escaped her lips, but was stifled as he though her to the ground. Her pajamas her stained with mud, and torn in the shoulder. She couldn't go on like this much longer, she could tell. She sobbed as she lay there, wishing he didn't have this power over her. She was but a groupie, and had less respect then the servants.
Frank observed her with glee. He knew she wouldn't go, she wasn't strong enough. This was fun for him, he wanted to tease her, make her beg for forgiveness. Columbia lay in a pile on the ground, wracking with sobs. He took a few coins from his pocket, and pelted them at her pale back.
"Here's your money you whore, now go!" Frank british accent mingled well with anger, and he sounded all the sexier.
Columbia looked up at him. His damp ebony curls framed his jaw. His beautiful eyes were accentuated by his makeup, even though the rain had caused it to run down his face like black tears. He was perfect, in his corset and fishnets. But look at her. She was pathetic, she was curled up on the ground, shivering from the autumn temperature.
"I'm a junkie. I'm a whore," she shivered as the chilling vocals rang through the trembling air. Her voice wa crisp and clear for once, and not at all shrill.
"That's what you always called me."
I am raw,
an open sore.
I ache to remind me..."
Frank raised a silent eyebrow at her sudden musical number, but did not utter a sound.
"I'm a weakling,
you are strong.
Pick me up from where I lay.
Here on a stolen sidewalk.
Baby, don't make me beg..."
He walked closer. This was proving to be more amusing than he expected. She was desperate. She needed him. But he would let her go on with her song.
"I'm religious once again.
We all are before we die...
and I am so sick to death.
Wasted tears I cry."
Columbia hung her head, afraid to look at Frank. Afraid to see him sneer. She was just afraid. The damp earth covered her body.
"And who said love would always mend,
and fill the emptiness again.
Should light a single candle...
make a prayer in my name."
The world love stung Frank's mind, and made him dizzy. Love was deep pure, this was not. This was just lust.. wasn't it?
"I'm a weakling,
you are strong.
Pick me up from where I lay.
Here on a stolen sidewalk.
Baby, don't make me beg.
I am not right,
you're not wrong.
I can't last another day.
Here on a stolen sidewalk.
Baby, don't make me beg..."
With more confidence this time, Columbia slowly looked up at Frank, who seemed just as nervous as she at this point. They were reduced to so little. Emotionally naked, and scared.
"The closest thing I found to heaven,
is sitting here, talking to you...
I'm the queen of western paradise,
don't you know,
nothing left for me to do."
A tear trickled down Frank's cheek, but it fell with the rain. He mattered to someone... that should be enough for him. But no... he couldn't let her see he had feelings. To her he must be emotionless. He must be cruel... he must be who everyone thought he was. What he was expected to be. Cruel... lustful.
"I'm a weakling,
you are strong.
Pick me up from where I lay.
Here on a stolen sidewalk.
Baby, don't make me beg.
I am not right,
you're not wrong.
I can't last another day.
Here on a stolen sidewalk.
Baby, don't make me beg..."
Columbia looked expectantly at Frank, and for a moment he had the look of a lost child cross over his face. But he couldn't let her see him vulnerable. He must be what he was expected to be.
With that he turned, and walked into the castle, leaving Columbia alone in the pouring rain. He knew she would follow soon.... she always did.
/A/N/ The lyrics are copyright Bif Naked, and it's a song called Stolen Sidewalk. Yay.. happy... sorry for the fluff folks, but I had a pretty bad day. Wheeee.../