Hollow: Sequel to Trouble In My Mind
By The Shadower
Chapter Two
Rating: PG-13 for later chapters, this chapter only G.
Spoilers: Pilot, and, in the loosest possible sense, BBWW
Archiving: See previous chapter
Feedback: Please. Anything as long as it's not completely unrelated. Both praise and flames welcomed, especially if you say what you're happy or upset about. Thanks!
AN: Original D suggested I use flashbacks to give this piece more of an ML feel. Please let me know if I achieved that or if I need to make future flashbacks different and how.
**I don't know why I came here. It's decaying, what's left of it. At first I think it's unrecognizable with all the decay, and everything taken by looters. But then I see something and it brings back a memory.
That's the mirror, over there. He took me over there and showed me my own face and said it was the most beautiful face he'd ever seen. The frame is gone; I'm surprised the mirror itself is still here, with the glass intact. Eleven months ago I would have been already thinking about where I'd fix it. Now the thought of touching it, of going over there and standing where I stood before, turns my stomach. Logan's gone. It's not right the mirror should be here still.
That table over there, that's where we played chess. The pieces are gone and one of the chairs but the table is still standing. I won every game and he took it with a smile on his face and challenged me to a new one, never once getting frustrated over losing so much. Now, I wish I'd let him win sometimes.
On the mantle is a statue of the Egyptian goddess Bast. I can't believe it's still here. I broke in here to steal it nine months ago. That's when I first saw him, heard him do his cable hack and realized he was Eyes Only.
That's when I first felt that pull, that magnetic hum drawing me to him. The hum never went away until the day he died, and I still feel it sometimes, when I forget.
I come into the room where he died, where I find his body, and I freeze up inside. I can't move, I can't think, I just stand and stare. His wheelchair is still next to the desk, where he blew his brains out with a semi-automatic .45. Where I found his body.
I hear a noise behind me and turn, startled. Bling is there, standing behind me.
"I just came to move some of his stuff out. He didn't leave a will, so I figured I'd rent out the apartment. Didn't want the new tenants stumbling over Eyes Only equipment."
He goes over to the chair and pulls it back from the drawer. He wheels it toward the exit. I let him get halfway across the room before I shout "LEAVE IT!"
He looks at me questioningly.
"Just leave it," I whisper, my voice soft and sad. I want it to be louder, more emphatic. I want him to understand how important this it, even though I don't even really understand it myself. But now my voice is breaking and I can't make it strong again, I can't get back the fury. Now all I have is tears.
He looks at me a moment, then comes forward and puts his arms around me. We hold each other for a long time.**
***
Normal dipped his brush into the can of paint and painted over the last of the graffiti sprayed onto a Jam Pony locker. He came to the next one and paused, just staring at it. MAX was scratched into the paint. Normal stared at it in silence until a new employee approached him.
"Hey, is this locker free?"
From across the room Sketchy turned to watch. Normal glanced at the employee, then turned back to stare at the locker. After a long moment, he raised his brush and brought it down over MAX, removing it from the locker's surface.
"Yes," he said, "It is."
From across the room, Sketchy just watched as the new guy opened the locker and inserted his objects. Sketchy then turned and walked into one of the graffiti filled bathrooms. It was empty except for him. He leaned down over one of the sinks and ran his fingers over where MAX had been scratched in the porcelain.
It was only then that he allowed himself to cry.
AN: Hope the flashbacks are providing enough ML. Thanks to Original D for the helpful idea. Also, in no way am I trying to imply and foreshadow any kind of Max/Bling. Don't even know how I got that idea but it will NOT be presenting itself in my writing. I should be getting to Pollo Loco next chapter, I meant to do it this time but I got distracted. Next chapter I should also be back to my usual third person narrative. I just felt the scene in the apartment should come from Max's POV. Please review and let me know if this is good.
By The Shadower
Chapter Two
Rating: PG-13 for later chapters, this chapter only G.
Spoilers: Pilot, and, in the loosest possible sense, BBWW
Archiving: See previous chapter
Feedback: Please. Anything as long as it's not completely unrelated. Both praise and flames welcomed, especially if you say what you're happy or upset about. Thanks!
AN: Original D suggested I use flashbacks to give this piece more of an ML feel. Please let me know if I achieved that or if I need to make future flashbacks different and how.
**I don't know why I came here. It's decaying, what's left of it. At first I think it's unrecognizable with all the decay, and everything taken by looters. But then I see something and it brings back a memory.
That's the mirror, over there. He took me over there and showed me my own face and said it was the most beautiful face he'd ever seen. The frame is gone; I'm surprised the mirror itself is still here, with the glass intact. Eleven months ago I would have been already thinking about where I'd fix it. Now the thought of touching it, of going over there and standing where I stood before, turns my stomach. Logan's gone. It's not right the mirror should be here still.
That table over there, that's where we played chess. The pieces are gone and one of the chairs but the table is still standing. I won every game and he took it with a smile on his face and challenged me to a new one, never once getting frustrated over losing so much. Now, I wish I'd let him win sometimes.
On the mantle is a statue of the Egyptian goddess Bast. I can't believe it's still here. I broke in here to steal it nine months ago. That's when I first saw him, heard him do his cable hack and realized he was Eyes Only.
That's when I first felt that pull, that magnetic hum drawing me to him. The hum never went away until the day he died, and I still feel it sometimes, when I forget.
I come into the room where he died, where I find his body, and I freeze up inside. I can't move, I can't think, I just stand and stare. His wheelchair is still next to the desk, where he blew his brains out with a semi-automatic .45. Where I found his body.
I hear a noise behind me and turn, startled. Bling is there, standing behind me.
"I just came to move some of his stuff out. He didn't leave a will, so I figured I'd rent out the apartment. Didn't want the new tenants stumbling over Eyes Only equipment."
He goes over to the chair and pulls it back from the drawer. He wheels it toward the exit. I let him get halfway across the room before I shout "LEAVE IT!"
He looks at me questioningly.
"Just leave it," I whisper, my voice soft and sad. I want it to be louder, more emphatic. I want him to understand how important this it, even though I don't even really understand it myself. But now my voice is breaking and I can't make it strong again, I can't get back the fury. Now all I have is tears.
He looks at me a moment, then comes forward and puts his arms around me. We hold each other for a long time.**
***
Normal dipped his brush into the can of paint and painted over the last of the graffiti sprayed onto a Jam Pony locker. He came to the next one and paused, just staring at it. MAX was scratched into the paint. Normal stared at it in silence until a new employee approached him.
"Hey, is this locker free?"
From across the room Sketchy turned to watch. Normal glanced at the employee, then turned back to stare at the locker. After a long moment, he raised his brush and brought it down over MAX, removing it from the locker's surface.
"Yes," he said, "It is."
From across the room, Sketchy just watched as the new guy opened the locker and inserted his objects. Sketchy then turned and walked into one of the graffiti filled bathrooms. It was empty except for him. He leaned down over one of the sinks and ran his fingers over where MAX had been scratched in the porcelain.
It was only then that he allowed himself to cry.
AN: Hope the flashbacks are providing enough ML. Thanks to Original D for the helpful idea. Also, in no way am I trying to imply and foreshadow any kind of Max/Bling. Don't even know how I got that idea but it will NOT be presenting itself in my writing. I should be getting to Pollo Loco next chapter, I meant to do it this time but I got distracted. Next chapter I should also be back to my usual third person narrative. I just felt the scene in the apartment should come from Max's POV. Please review and let me know if this is good.