We Dance in Misery
Disclaimer: same as before
Chapter Five
~~Begin Chapter~~
Davey woke up the next morning, in bed...not alone. His hand was around someone else's body, and their arms were around his. Finally Davey realized what happened last night. He looked down to see Christian's face nuzzled into Davey's chest. During the night, Christian had turned around to face Davey, and they lay in a hugging position all night, their legs even entwined. Davey blushed a little, he couldn't help it, he was in the arms of the most beautiful man he had ever met! Davey looked out the window, it was daylight.
He carefully slipped out of Christian's warm embrace, getting up and walking to the kitchen where he kept his clock, checking the time he put on the kettle. Davey was addicted to tea. He walked back into his room to find Christian awake.
"I thought you said you would be near me all night," Christian said.
"And I was, I just got up in the morning, during daylight, to put on the tea. Is there anything you'd like for breakfast?" Davey asked sitting on the bed next to Christian, who drew back a little.
"No, no, I'm not worthy of the food," Christian said. Davey put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"You're worth anything, Christian, just not money. You can't put a price on people, and what Harold Zidler does is just wrong. You shouldn't be made to sell yourself, because that's not how people should be. You deserve food, Christian. You have to eat to live, to breath to wake, to wake from sleep, unto sleep again, to sleep perchance to dream, to dream of everything you have and how it is better than everything else."
"You write?" Christian asked. Davey nodded.
"I paint, I draw, I write stories, poetry, plays, and I sing," Davey said.
"I write, I write a lot of poetry," Christian said. "Well, I used to write a lot of poetry, they were of love and hope, and truth. But now...I don't write so much, and when I do write, they're horrible pieces filled with sorrow, hate and the sad truth of the real world, not the world I was once in."
"Truth, that's a word that has no meaning to me," Davey said. "Because we're never sure of what the truth is. The truth to someone in England, let's say, is that the French are assholes. The truth to someone in France is that the English are assholes. The truth to an American is that money buys love. Truth to an Arabian is that love is a many splendored thing found in many different people for one person. Truth varies from place to place, and inevitabley, is different from another man's truth. One man's truth is another man's lie. We decieve ourselves on truth, and that's the truth."
Christian laughed a little, "That's the truth? The truth..."
"Christian, what do you want for breakfast?"
"I want a hotcake, with syrup, and bacon."
"Allright, I'll fix that up for you, right away," Davey said and went off to make Christian his breakfast. Christian lay back in bed, thinking of Davey's words, and how he thought they were really the truth...to him.
About an hour later, Davey came back in carrying a tray and a smile on, he put it in Christian's lap. "As you ordered, sir, a hotcake covered in syrup and bacon. But that's not all, dear sir, for free I have added two other hotcakes, enjoy!"
Christian's smile was bright as the sun as he looked at his breakfast, his first real breakfast in months. He looked up at Davey with truly grateful eyes, "Thank you, Davey, thank you, thank you!"
"Eat!" Davey laughed as he sat at the end of the bed and watched as Christian dug into the food and tore at the hotcakes like a hungry dog to meat. Davey was amazed at how quickly Christian had finished the breakfast. Davey cleaned up and took the tray into the kitchen, he came back and sat down and looked at Christian. "Christian, I have a concert coming up in a few days, I was wondering if you'd like to join me?"
Christian thought about it a while then nodded. "Sure, what do you play?"
"Oh, I started a band with my friend, Jade, it's a different kind of band, y'know, we don't exactly play all this formal songs and the like. It has a swingy beat to it. I call it jazz. I'm the singer. We play different genres that haven't even been done or named yet. We call ourselves the Misc-Fits, for Miscellanious Unfits."
"Interesting name, I'd definately like to hear you play. Can I hear you sing?" Christian asked. Davey smiled, he loved singing above all things. He nodded.
"Sure, uhm, let me think of something to sing." Davey went through his lyrics he had written down, then he turned around to Christian. "Okay, this a different kind of song, it's more of a poem that I wrote, I put a beat to it and music to it in my head." Davey immitated the drum part. "There's some guitar in it too, but the guitar we have isn't enough for it, I need a better guitar, I don't know exactly what to use. But it should sound like this." Davey immitated a guitar sound for what the music would be like. Then Davey said, "Alright, so here's what it sounds like with just me singing:
I remember when I was told of story of crushed velvet,
candle wax, and dried up flowers
The figure on the bed all dressed up in roses, calling
Beckoning to sleep,
Offering a dream
The words were as mystical as purring animals
The circle of rage
The ghosts on the stage appeared
The time was so tangible, I'll never let it go
Ghost stories handed down, reached secret tunnels below
No one could see me
I fell into yesterday
Our dreams seemed not far away
I want to, I want to, I want to stay
I fell into fantasy
The words were as mystical as purring animals
The circle of rage
The ghosts on the stage appeared
The time was so tangible, I'll never let it go
Ghost stories handed down, reached secret tunnels below
No one could see me
I fell into yesterday.
Our dreams seemed not far away
I want to, I want to, I want to stay.
I fell into fantasy
The girl on the wall always waited for me,
And she was always smiling
The teenage death boys
The teenage death girls
And everyone was dancing
Nothing could touch us then
No one could change us then
Everyone was dancing
Nothing could hurt us then
No one could see us then
Everyone was dancing
Everyone was dancing
No one could see me
I fell into yesterday
Our dreams seemed not far away
I want to, I want to, I want to stay
I fell into fantasy
Our dreams seemed not far away
Our dreams seemed not far away
Our dreams seemed not far away
I fell into fantasy(1)"
Christian applauded, "That's a great song! Wonderful, what's it called?"
"The Days of the Phoenix. I dunno why, but my song titles have little to do with the actual song."
"That's okay, it's a good name, and I think the song describes it well really, it doesn't matter that the song doesn't say Phoenix at all. It's like, it tells how to enter the Days of the Phoenix, falling into yesterday. What happens. Falling into fantasy. What is, no could see me. How we want to stay. Everyone was dancing, because of it. What waits, the girl on the wall, she's always smiling. The comfort and fun, no one could hurt us, out dreams seemed not far away."
"Yeah, yeah," Davey smiled. He finally found another person to discuss his lyrics with besides Jade. Hunter and Adam would occasionally talk, but they were always about each other ever since they had gotten together. "I think that's good."
"Thanks."
Davey lay down next to Christian on the bed. Christian closed his eyes, he felt so warm and content, and comforted and safe with Davey. He never wanted to leave.
'I want to, I want to, I want to stay.' Christian was in the days of the phoenix, dancing no more in the days of misery, but with the Phoenix, with Davey. No one could see him now, no could hurt him now, he was dancing, no one could change him now, his dreams were not far away, he had fallen into fantasy.
Christian drifted back to a nice sleep with Davey in his arms, Davey put his hand on Christian's forehead, the fever had gone down, but Davey didn't want to take chances so he kept him in bed. Davey got up and stretched, just then he remembered, "The art show!"
Davey rushed to his closet to get dressed, unfortunately, it wasn't a walk-in closet, and Davey had knocked over a few canvases, creating quite a bit of noise, and just as Davey was pulling up new underwear, Christian woke up.
"What're you doing? OH...sorry," Christian turned around. Davey quickly pulled up his underwear and pants before he started to button up a shirt.
"I'm going to an art show today, if I don't show up, Jade'll be very angry with me," Davey said. "Sorry to have woken you up and you have nothing to apologize for. I won't be gone for a long time, so just stay here, if you want something to drink or something, feel free to raid my kitchen, I don't mind. See you later, Christian."
"Davey, wait, uh, who's Jade?"
Davey paused a moment. "He's my lover." Well, that was a lie, Davey didn't know why. Maybe he was jealous that Christian had someone already. Yes, he was, and he didn't want Christian to think that Davey was trying to get with Christian, so then Christian wouldn't feel abused or used.
Christian sunk back into the bed, "Oh...okay, see ya."
Davey had a feeling that Christian was now upset, "Christian are you alright?"
"I'm fine, you better go, I'd hate for you to fight with your lover," Christian spat. Davey sighed.
"Christian..."
"Just go."
"Fine." Davey grabbed his coat and stomped off out of his apartment to the artshow he was half an hour late for.
"There you are, Davey! Damn it, you're late!" Jade yelled as Davey walked into the exhibition. Davey put his coat on a rack and walked behind a desk that had his art work displayed, next to Jade's booth.
"Sorry, Jade, I got sidetracked," Davey yawned. "Inspiration for a song, y'know."
"Oh, did you bring the lyrics?"
"Here," Davey handed him the lyrics he had started last night. "It's not finished yet, I was just trying to think of what more to put to it."
"Wonderful, wonderful," Jade said. He handed the lyrics back to Davey. "I'll see what I can do on my piano for that."
"Alright," Davey sat back against the wall. People walked around, more gathered around Jade's booth than Davey's for Jade had displayed a different type of work in his art, nothing of the happy stuff, he had focused on death and misery, Davey did that too, but there were too many rabbits in his paintings, showing many different things to the people who knew of the Chinese Astrology. Davey put a lot of numerology in his paintings, with "336" in the top covered in blood, with a dead rabbit below it, and "337" below that, hidden, never to be done for the rabbit. And Jade's showed the act of reincarnation, his paintings, if lined in order, showed an order of life he believed in, life-death-reincartnation.
Davey was asked a question by a proper looking man, "And what does this three hundred and thirty-six, this rabbit, and the hidden three hundred and thirty seven have to do with the painting?"
"They are the painting for one thing," Davey said. "But what it shows, if that's what you mean to ask, is that the rabbit cannot be reincarnated. In chinese astrology, people born in the year of the rabbit cannot be reincarnated, this is the last life for them. Three hundred and thirty six is the number of death, in numerology, three hundred and thirty seven signifies the act of reincarnation, so three hundred and thirty seven is hidden by the vines, and kept in a box like so, to show it cannot be done unto the rabbit, who lays atop the box, hoping to be reincarnated, but instead he is face with the vast blackness and loss of death as the three hundred and thirty-six is shown in."
"Huh, interesting," the man said then walked off over to the paintings of another man who painted flowers and fruits. Jade walked over.
"I think it is very interesting," Jade said. "We could use it for songs, if we ever want to take the sorrow filled side of singing."
"I think I may just go to the sorrow, sing the sorrow," Davey said. Jade hugged him like a friend.
"C'mon, Davey, y'know you're a genius. That painting and the meaning, it's genius in absolute form."
"Thanks Jade. Uh, Jade, I have to go home, do you mind taking care of my stuff for me? You know what all my paintings are about, right?"
"Of course, you tell me everyday! Alright, no problem, Davey, I'll take care of them. Are you feeling sick or something?"
"Just a little. See you later, Jade," Davey said and left.
"Toodles..."
~~End Chapter~~
What'd you think? Hope you liked it! I'll continue soon enough, don't worry.
~Jester
Disclaimer: same as before
Chapter Five
~~Begin Chapter~~
Davey woke up the next morning, in bed...not alone. His hand was around someone else's body, and their arms were around his. Finally Davey realized what happened last night. He looked down to see Christian's face nuzzled into Davey's chest. During the night, Christian had turned around to face Davey, and they lay in a hugging position all night, their legs even entwined. Davey blushed a little, he couldn't help it, he was in the arms of the most beautiful man he had ever met! Davey looked out the window, it was daylight.
He carefully slipped out of Christian's warm embrace, getting up and walking to the kitchen where he kept his clock, checking the time he put on the kettle. Davey was addicted to tea. He walked back into his room to find Christian awake.
"I thought you said you would be near me all night," Christian said.
"And I was, I just got up in the morning, during daylight, to put on the tea. Is there anything you'd like for breakfast?" Davey asked sitting on the bed next to Christian, who drew back a little.
"No, no, I'm not worthy of the food," Christian said. Davey put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"You're worth anything, Christian, just not money. You can't put a price on people, and what Harold Zidler does is just wrong. You shouldn't be made to sell yourself, because that's not how people should be. You deserve food, Christian. You have to eat to live, to breath to wake, to wake from sleep, unto sleep again, to sleep perchance to dream, to dream of everything you have and how it is better than everything else."
"You write?" Christian asked. Davey nodded.
"I paint, I draw, I write stories, poetry, plays, and I sing," Davey said.
"I write, I write a lot of poetry," Christian said. "Well, I used to write a lot of poetry, they were of love and hope, and truth. But now...I don't write so much, and when I do write, they're horrible pieces filled with sorrow, hate and the sad truth of the real world, not the world I was once in."
"Truth, that's a word that has no meaning to me," Davey said. "Because we're never sure of what the truth is. The truth to someone in England, let's say, is that the French are assholes. The truth to someone in France is that the English are assholes. The truth to an American is that money buys love. Truth to an Arabian is that love is a many splendored thing found in many different people for one person. Truth varies from place to place, and inevitabley, is different from another man's truth. One man's truth is another man's lie. We decieve ourselves on truth, and that's the truth."
Christian laughed a little, "That's the truth? The truth..."
"Christian, what do you want for breakfast?"
"I want a hotcake, with syrup, and bacon."
"Allright, I'll fix that up for you, right away," Davey said and went off to make Christian his breakfast. Christian lay back in bed, thinking of Davey's words, and how he thought they were really the truth...to him.
About an hour later, Davey came back in carrying a tray and a smile on, he put it in Christian's lap. "As you ordered, sir, a hotcake covered in syrup and bacon. But that's not all, dear sir, for free I have added two other hotcakes, enjoy!"
Christian's smile was bright as the sun as he looked at his breakfast, his first real breakfast in months. He looked up at Davey with truly grateful eyes, "Thank you, Davey, thank you, thank you!"
"Eat!" Davey laughed as he sat at the end of the bed and watched as Christian dug into the food and tore at the hotcakes like a hungry dog to meat. Davey was amazed at how quickly Christian had finished the breakfast. Davey cleaned up and took the tray into the kitchen, he came back and sat down and looked at Christian. "Christian, I have a concert coming up in a few days, I was wondering if you'd like to join me?"
Christian thought about it a while then nodded. "Sure, what do you play?"
"Oh, I started a band with my friend, Jade, it's a different kind of band, y'know, we don't exactly play all this formal songs and the like. It has a swingy beat to it. I call it jazz. I'm the singer. We play different genres that haven't even been done or named yet. We call ourselves the Misc-Fits, for Miscellanious Unfits."
"Interesting name, I'd definately like to hear you play. Can I hear you sing?" Christian asked. Davey smiled, he loved singing above all things. He nodded.
"Sure, uhm, let me think of something to sing." Davey went through his lyrics he had written down, then he turned around to Christian. "Okay, this a different kind of song, it's more of a poem that I wrote, I put a beat to it and music to it in my head." Davey immitated the drum part. "There's some guitar in it too, but the guitar we have isn't enough for it, I need a better guitar, I don't know exactly what to use. But it should sound like this." Davey immitated a guitar sound for what the music would be like. Then Davey said, "Alright, so here's what it sounds like with just me singing:
I remember when I was told of story of crushed velvet,
candle wax, and dried up flowers
The figure on the bed all dressed up in roses, calling
Beckoning to sleep,
Offering a dream
The words were as mystical as purring animals
The circle of rage
The ghosts on the stage appeared
The time was so tangible, I'll never let it go
Ghost stories handed down, reached secret tunnels below
No one could see me
I fell into yesterday
Our dreams seemed not far away
I want to, I want to, I want to stay
I fell into fantasy
The words were as mystical as purring animals
The circle of rage
The ghosts on the stage appeared
The time was so tangible, I'll never let it go
Ghost stories handed down, reached secret tunnels below
No one could see me
I fell into yesterday.
Our dreams seemed not far away
I want to, I want to, I want to stay.
I fell into fantasy
The girl on the wall always waited for me,
And she was always smiling
The teenage death boys
The teenage death girls
And everyone was dancing
Nothing could touch us then
No one could change us then
Everyone was dancing
Nothing could hurt us then
No one could see us then
Everyone was dancing
Everyone was dancing
No one could see me
I fell into yesterday
Our dreams seemed not far away
I want to, I want to, I want to stay
I fell into fantasy
Our dreams seemed not far away
Our dreams seemed not far away
Our dreams seemed not far away
I fell into fantasy(1)"
Christian applauded, "That's a great song! Wonderful, what's it called?"
"The Days of the Phoenix. I dunno why, but my song titles have little to do with the actual song."
"That's okay, it's a good name, and I think the song describes it well really, it doesn't matter that the song doesn't say Phoenix at all. It's like, it tells how to enter the Days of the Phoenix, falling into yesterday. What happens. Falling into fantasy. What is, no could see me. How we want to stay. Everyone was dancing, because of it. What waits, the girl on the wall, she's always smiling. The comfort and fun, no one could hurt us, out dreams seemed not far away."
"Yeah, yeah," Davey smiled. He finally found another person to discuss his lyrics with besides Jade. Hunter and Adam would occasionally talk, but they were always about each other ever since they had gotten together. "I think that's good."
"Thanks."
Davey lay down next to Christian on the bed. Christian closed his eyes, he felt so warm and content, and comforted and safe with Davey. He never wanted to leave.
'I want to, I want to, I want to stay.' Christian was in the days of the phoenix, dancing no more in the days of misery, but with the Phoenix, with Davey. No one could see him now, no could hurt him now, he was dancing, no one could change him now, his dreams were not far away, he had fallen into fantasy.
Christian drifted back to a nice sleep with Davey in his arms, Davey put his hand on Christian's forehead, the fever had gone down, but Davey didn't want to take chances so he kept him in bed. Davey got up and stretched, just then he remembered, "The art show!"
Davey rushed to his closet to get dressed, unfortunately, it wasn't a walk-in closet, and Davey had knocked over a few canvases, creating quite a bit of noise, and just as Davey was pulling up new underwear, Christian woke up.
"What're you doing? OH...sorry," Christian turned around. Davey quickly pulled up his underwear and pants before he started to button up a shirt.
"I'm going to an art show today, if I don't show up, Jade'll be very angry with me," Davey said. "Sorry to have woken you up and you have nothing to apologize for. I won't be gone for a long time, so just stay here, if you want something to drink or something, feel free to raid my kitchen, I don't mind. See you later, Christian."
"Davey, wait, uh, who's Jade?"
Davey paused a moment. "He's my lover." Well, that was a lie, Davey didn't know why. Maybe he was jealous that Christian had someone already. Yes, he was, and he didn't want Christian to think that Davey was trying to get with Christian, so then Christian wouldn't feel abused or used.
Christian sunk back into the bed, "Oh...okay, see ya."
Davey had a feeling that Christian was now upset, "Christian are you alright?"
"I'm fine, you better go, I'd hate for you to fight with your lover," Christian spat. Davey sighed.
"Christian..."
"Just go."
"Fine." Davey grabbed his coat and stomped off out of his apartment to the artshow he was half an hour late for.
"There you are, Davey! Damn it, you're late!" Jade yelled as Davey walked into the exhibition. Davey put his coat on a rack and walked behind a desk that had his art work displayed, next to Jade's booth.
"Sorry, Jade, I got sidetracked," Davey yawned. "Inspiration for a song, y'know."
"Oh, did you bring the lyrics?"
"Here," Davey handed him the lyrics he had started last night. "It's not finished yet, I was just trying to think of what more to put to it."
"Wonderful, wonderful," Jade said. He handed the lyrics back to Davey. "I'll see what I can do on my piano for that."
"Alright," Davey sat back against the wall. People walked around, more gathered around Jade's booth than Davey's for Jade had displayed a different type of work in his art, nothing of the happy stuff, he had focused on death and misery, Davey did that too, but there were too many rabbits in his paintings, showing many different things to the people who knew of the Chinese Astrology. Davey put a lot of numerology in his paintings, with "336" in the top covered in blood, with a dead rabbit below it, and "337" below that, hidden, never to be done for the rabbit. And Jade's showed the act of reincarnation, his paintings, if lined in order, showed an order of life he believed in, life-death-reincartnation.
Davey was asked a question by a proper looking man, "And what does this three hundred and thirty-six, this rabbit, and the hidden three hundred and thirty seven have to do with the painting?"
"They are the painting for one thing," Davey said. "But what it shows, if that's what you mean to ask, is that the rabbit cannot be reincarnated. In chinese astrology, people born in the year of the rabbit cannot be reincarnated, this is the last life for them. Three hundred and thirty six is the number of death, in numerology, three hundred and thirty seven signifies the act of reincarnation, so three hundred and thirty seven is hidden by the vines, and kept in a box like so, to show it cannot be done unto the rabbit, who lays atop the box, hoping to be reincarnated, but instead he is face with the vast blackness and loss of death as the three hundred and thirty-six is shown in."
"Huh, interesting," the man said then walked off over to the paintings of another man who painted flowers and fruits. Jade walked over.
"I think it is very interesting," Jade said. "We could use it for songs, if we ever want to take the sorrow filled side of singing."
"I think I may just go to the sorrow, sing the sorrow," Davey said. Jade hugged him like a friend.
"C'mon, Davey, y'know you're a genius. That painting and the meaning, it's genius in absolute form."
"Thanks Jade. Uh, Jade, I have to go home, do you mind taking care of my stuff for me? You know what all my paintings are about, right?"
"Of course, you tell me everyday! Alright, no problem, Davey, I'll take care of them. Are you feeling sick or something?"
"Just a little. See you later, Jade," Davey said and left.
"Toodles..."
~~End Chapter~~
What'd you think? Hope you liked it! I'll continue soon enough, don't worry.
~Jester