St. John Allerdyce slammed the door to his room and angrily threw himself on the bed. So much for the field trip to the museum being fun. He dug his CD player out from under the pile of comics on the dresser, next to a small collection of cheap plastic lighters. Jamming the earphones into his ears, he cranked up the volume and tried desperately to lose his anger in the music.
His choice was fairly ironic. The black disc in the player began to spin, and an odd sounding chord faded in, louder and louder until-
The bass harmonics. He smiled to himself, a smile of resignation. He'd borrowed the CD from Kitty, on pain of death if he ever told anyone she liked progressive metal and not pop.
The guitar screamed in after four bars, and Pyro winced. The whole intro was a sonic assault, but he wanted it, craved it, needed it.
Don't
Tell
me what's in,
Tell
me how to write
Don't
tell me how to win
This
fight
Isn't
your life,
It
isn't your right
To
take the only thing that's
Mine
Proven
over time
It's
over your head
Don't
try to read between the
Lines
Are
clearly defined
Never
lose sight of
Something
you believe in.
He actually listened to the words for the first time, thinking that they were fairly applicable to his current situation. Dragged out of the museum by a furious Jean Grey for causing a scene at the cafeteria in the museum, when some snotty punk snatched his lighter off him. He got his lighter back, but decided to teach him a lesson. He'd caused the glowing tip of the cigarette to consume the entire thing, and the flare had scared the living shit out of him. Bobby, good old I-want-to-impress-Rogue-at-every-possible-opportunity Bobby, had put the fire out by slathering the guy's face with ice. That had been, at that point, possibly even funnier than his shocked expression when the cigarette exploded.
Then the entire museum just froze. Stopped in its tracks. He, Bobby and Rogue were the only three people at that point who were moving. Rogue broke the silence, asking what he'd done. Bobby whispered that he hadn't done anything. Then the worst possible thing happened. Professor X wheeled up, and condensed an hour's worth of shouting into less than ten words.
"The next time you feel like showing off, don't."
Takin'
in the view from
The
outside
Feeling
like the underdog
Watching
through the
Window
I'm on the outside
Living
like the underdog
I've
been trying
To
justify you
In
the end
I
will just defy you.
His attention had been caught by a television screen, showing CNN describing a mutant attack on the President. He'd immediately made everyone leave. The last thing they needed was for a lynch mob to form just because he'd had a bit of fun with an ignorant jerk.
To
those who understand
I
extend my hand
To
the doubtful I demand
Take
me as I am
He idly wondered why mutants couldn't just be accepted by society. Duh, because society hates anything that's different or doesn't conform to MTV, said an inner voice, berating him for his momentary slip.
Not
under your command
I
know where I stand
I
won't change to fit our plans
Take
me as I am
He just wanted to be left alone, to be himself. Was that really too much to ask of the world?
Still
Running
uphill
Swimming
against the current
I
wish I weren't so
Fucked
Feel's
like I'm stuck
Lost
in a sea of mediocrity
"Slow
down,
You're
thinking too much
Where
is your soul?"
You
can not touch
The
way I
Play
Or
tell me what to say
You're
in the way
Of
all that I believe in
Maybe… maybe there was some other way. Maybe… dare he even think this? Maybe Magneto had been right. Maybe there was just no way that humans and mutants would ever live side by side in pace, love, rainbows and butterflies.
Pyro rolled over and snorted.
Takin'
in the view from
The
outside
Feeling
like the underdog
Watching
through the
Window
I'm on the outside
Living
like the underdog
But then, that's what they were, wasn't it? Underdogs? Denied their basic rights as citizens in a land where supposedly each person was allowed to pursue Life, Liberty and Happiness? Watching through a theoretical window, unable to get a job because of a bad hand Lady Luck dealt you? Unfashionable DNA manifesting powers which meant that you could control Man's oldest friend and enemy? Fire, which had warmed, comforted, and killed? It just wasn't fair!
I've
been wasting my breath
On
you
Open
minds will descend
Upon
you
Too right! He thought.
To
those who understand
I
extend my hand
To
the doubtful I demand
Take
me as I am
Not
under your command
I
know where I stand
I
won't change to fit our plans
Take
me as I am
To
those who understand
I extend my hand
To
the doubtful I demand
Take
me as I am
Not
under your command
I know where I stand
I
won't change to fit our plans
Take
me as I am
With a final scream of feedback from the guitars, the song segued into a blistering intro for the second song on the CD. John pulled the headphones off, and swung his feet to the floor. He didn't know how, but all the anger he had stored had somehow been leeched out of him, and he was now calm again.
Well, as calm as he ever got. He pulled the CD out of the player, returned it to the case, then went in search of Kitty. He found her in the rec room, talking to Rogue (sans Bobby, for once) and Jubilee.
"Hey, Kitty, can I borrow this CD for a little longer?" he asked, fighting to keep a grin off his face. "It's just that I'm fairly new to progressive metal and I want to keep listen… oh, crap." He lost the internal battle. Kitty stood up, her face like thunder.
"John Allerdyce, run. But first, give me that CD."
