Concrete
Rated: PG-13
Character: Bakura Ryou
Pairing: ?/Ryou.
Summary: Short songfic I wrote, changing the lyrics around a little bit to Concrete Angel. It's a great song, and after listening to it, it reminded me of him a lot. Ryou reflects on a painful heartbreak. Yaoi. This is one of those stories, where you can make up who it was that left Ryou hanging.
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask,
Bearing the burden of a secret storm,
Sometimes he wishes he was never born.
The dim hum of a piano melody vibrated loudly, echoing across the room despite the fact that the owner was wearing a pair of headphones. Louder and louder, the melody beat against the owner's temples, each note stung with an aroma of melancholy. Young and frail, pale, slim arms tugged themselves around his small waist, trying to draw in whatever body heat he had left to savor in it. Bleak eyes, colored dark mahogany watched the wax dribble down the lone candle that burnt on the night stand, illuminating the dim bedroom.
Technically, Bakura Ryou hadn't thought of the way he'd like to die. Death was a common road his mind traveled down, numerous times.. however, the adolescent usually shuddered at the thought of greeting the grim reaper in the long run. Grown paranoid over the thought that his life could extinguish almost as easily as that flame of that wax candle. Humans were the cause of agony beyond repair. They internally destroyed themselves. Ryou didn't want to be the one that destroyed himself, but it seemed that his destiny had taken a different turn then to what he had envisioned for himself.
He saw himself successful. Perhaps with a family of his own. Maybe a doctor. He'd always had the desire to help others. He was also such a strong spirit. Who'd know that a complicated emotion would be the root to his destruction?
Love.
Love could lead human beings down one of either roads. Eternal happiness, or eternal sorrow. Love makes us shed more tears then we do smiles. Love makes us care so much about a single human being, we tear ourselves apart for that other. We devote ourselves to them, want to become the very soul of that person. When we finally -think- we've reach that place, we are devastated if they pull away. It's a physical hurt, that never does go away. It can numb after a period of time, but never fully disappear.
Through the wind and the rain,
He stands hard as a stone,
In a world that he can't rise above,
But his dreams give him wings,
And he flies to a place where he's loved,
Concrete angel!
Pale lips thinned, and eyebrows perked. Facial features tensing in frustration.
I'm sorry...
A cringe.
I'm not in love with you, anymore.
Fingernails dug into the tender skin lining his stomach, leaving behind dozens of half-mooned scars, and reddened patches of aggravation.
You.. are just going to have to get over it.
He's gone. He was just confused for a while.
Now, after ridding himself of Ryou, he was GONE.
Now all he just a spent spark left behind behind a locked door inside the back of his troubled mind. The painful words briefly overpowered the rhythmic flow of the music, the tune sounding more like a knife across a record.
You'll be all right. You'll find somebody better then me.
Somebody cries in the middle of the night,
The neighbors hear, but they turn out the lights,
A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate,
When morning comes it'll be too late.
It all made sense, now. He was just another pawn in the game of life, pushed forward, and moved back across a chess board in a match that never seemed to end. As good luck yawned, and relaxed, bad luck always snaked their foul hands around the small pawn, thrusting him in the direction of another tragedy. In his angst, in his remembrance of the day he was discarded, like a simple piece of paper he rolled over onto his chest, burying his face away into the depths of his pillow.
And screamed,
screamed,
and screamed.
Screamed for the pain he was in. Weeping for the lost love he thought he'd be with forever. Trembling due to the outcome of his life.
There was just no point to this anymore.
The screech of a tormented youth, died away when the candle's light burnt out, leaving the four-wall room to plummet into darkness. Unheard by naked ears, the piano melody struck its final chord, and a Church a short distance away, sounded the bells of worship, for the midnight mass.
A statue stands in a shaded place,
An angel boy with an upturned face,
A name is written on a polished rock,
A broken heart that the world forgot.