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Bleeding Hearts -- Act 1 Scene 4 okay, here's the next part...i *think* i'm almost done act 2, which may well be the end of the story depending on whether or not i can beat something worthwhile out of my lazy brain (what can i say, its exam week, i should be studying but instead im writing fics hehe). anyway here's scene 4. feedback always �ber-appreciated. xxoo vanessa BLEEDING HEARTS ACT 1 SCENE 4 Brian wandered aimlessly down the streets, killing time before he had to be back at the hotel. He had no idea what city he was in, let alone whereabouts in it he was. He absently glanced into storefronts as he passed them, not really registering their contents. Until something in one caught his eye: a beautiful dress, the deepest shade of burgundy he had ever seen.... he immediately turned into the store to go about trying it on. A few moments later, Brian was appraising himself critically in the full-length mirror. 'Well, I don't really have the chest for a strapless dress...' He laughed out loud as his thought, receiving a raised eyebrow from the salesgirl who was helping him. He spun quickly, pleased to see the dress was somehow managing to stay on his body, even though he didnt exactly have the curves to hold it up. He really was taken with it. The velvet was extremely soft and the dress was high-waisted, the bottom hem falling to about his knees. It was trimmed with strips of the blackest velvet at the top and bottom hems, and flared nicely from the hips. The matching opera- length gloves were a bonus, he thought. 'Ah, what the hell, you only live once.' "I'll take it," he announced, heading back into the small stall to change out of the garment. He continued his aimless meandering, feeling somewhat better about that whole "life" thing. The sudden change of the ground underfoot brought his attention back to the real world; he had entered a large park and was walking across the grass. 'Crap. The grass is wet. I hope somebody waterproofed these shoes....' He found his way back to the path and kept walking, no destination in mind. He passed a group of people sitting just off the path, and the haze above their heads smelled sharply of marijuana. Brian's nostrils twitched, and his head turned almost involuntarily. "Hey," he called out. "Hey yourself," one answered. "Can I have a toke?" Brian surprised himself; he wasn't in the habit of being that forward with strangers as of late. The one who had replied to him shrugged, then held out a smouldering joint. Brian accepted it and took a deep lungful before passing it back. "Heeeeeeeyyy," one of the other people registered Brian's presence through the haze. "You don't look like, none too happy. Life's got you down, man..." Brian smiled wryly. "You could say that." "Maaaaan, whats up?" "Well, it's something of a long story..." Another joint was passed in Brian's direction and he took hit. "Basically, I'm in love with one of my best friends, see, but he's sleeping with my other best friend and they don't know I know..." He sighed. "Dude, you sound like you need help. I got just the thing." He rummaged through the pockets in his oversized vest before coming up with a small bag of something. He tossed it to Brian, who caught it in one hand. "That should do it, man... it's on me... I know where you're coming from, bro..." He exhaled a large cloud of pungent smoke. "Th- Thanks." Brian peered at the bag. 'I know you. Oh, do I know you, my old friend. I think we're about to get reacquainted....' He looked at his watch. 'Oh, shit.' "Guys--" he started, stammering slightly. "Thanks a whole bunch, I appreciate it... but I gotta go now, see, my friends are expecting me back, and..." Several of the smokers nodded knowingly. "You go on, man, hope things lift up for ya soon." Brian walked slowly away, the bag clenched tightly in his fist. He returned to his hotel room to find Steve and Stef knocking impatiently at his door. "Oh! There you are! When did you leave? We didn't know you were gone, we were starting to worry..." Steve sounded genuinely concerned, causing Brian's stomach to flip-flop slightly. "I was... just out shopping." He held up the bag containing his dress. "Oh? Whatcha find?" "...a dress..." "You may as well put it on, we're about to get dragged out to some fancy restaurant for dinner by the PR folks." "...okay..." He unlocked his door and went in, tossing the bag on the bed and heading straight for the bathroom. "Do you think he's okay?" Steve was still worried. "Probably still just hungover, wouldn't be the first time." "I guess... you do have a point..." They wandered back to their room to get ready for dinner. Meanwhile... Brian was rummaging like mad through his numerous makeup bags, looking for his kit. 'Come on, its gotta still be in here, I doubt I threw it out, come on come on....ahhhh, here we go.' He brought up a small quilted bag from the depths of a larger bag and began to carefully unpack its contents. Spoon, votive candle, tourniquet, syringe... He fished the bag out of his pocket and shucked his shirt, setting right to work. It seemed like eternity before he was tying the rubber strip around his arm with practiced ease. He took a steadying breath before the needle kissed his vein, feeling for all the world like the reunion with a long-lost lover. The heroin spread through his veins like fire, bringing the high he so desperately needed. He stumbled out of the bathroom, fighting with the buttons of his pants. He eventually got them off, and somehow managed to get his new dress out of the bag and onto his body. Almost as an afterthought he put the gloves on too. No need to worry his bandmates... Back into the bathroom to do his makeup. It was difficult at first, but years of practice in all states of insobriety were hard to lose. "Damn, you'd think he really was a girl for the time he takes getting ready." Steve laughed softly, and was about to begin pounding on the door when it opened under his fist. Brian smiled prettily at them. "Um, damn." Steve was speechless. "Nice dress..." Stef nodded in agreement. "But it sure took you long enough, Miss B." He smirked. "Yeah, shut up. Where are we going?" "Dunno," Steve shrugged. "Theres a car waiting out front, or something." "Okay..." Brian flitted off towards the elevator, leaving Steve and Stefan behind him. "I'm SURE he's not okay," Steve muttered to himself as they followed in his wake. Steve kept an eye on Brian throughout the dinner, but he couldn't pinpoint what exactly was "not right" about him. He was smiling, making jokes, laughing... but it just wasn't the Brian he was used to. Then again, he wasn't exactly devoting all his attention to Brian... He was seated next to Stefan, and the tall man's presence next to him was having quite an affect on him. Brian tried to maintain his fa�ade of happiness, but it was difficult. He could see the looks Steve and Stef were exchanging, the way their hands would brush against each other /just so/... He was going crazy. He couldn't go on watching that. Thank /god/ there wasn't a gig tonight... Steve was torn between two courses of action for that evening: jumping Stef as soon as they got back to the hotel, or talking to Brian and finding out what exactly was going on. As it was to turn out, he never even had the opportunity to try the latter. They had barely gotten into the hotel when Brian disappeared. Stef took the opportunity to pull Steve aside and kiss him. "However did we manage to get through dinner?" Stef murmured into Steve's neck. "Mmm, I don't know, but we did /somehow/...mmmf..." He was cut off by Stef's insistant lips. "Mmmm..." He ran his hands down the taller man's back, resting them on his hips and pulling his slight body closer. Stef, in turn, ran his hands through Steve's hair before slipping them down into his back pockets. "How come you're so good to me?" "I could ask the same thing... c'mon, lets go back to the rooms." 'Mmm... I can talk to Brian later. Hell if I know where he is now anyway...' Steve gave his attention back to Stefan. They moved from the small alcove in the hallway to the elevator, then Steve's room. Brian, meanwhile, had gone off to find a vending machine. Finding nothing he wanted, he angrily kicked it, then wandered back to the lobby. He hit the button for the elevator, but didn't feel like waiting so took the stairs -- he was only on the third floor. As he exited the stairs onto his floor, he saw two figures exit the elevator: Steve and Stef. They were wrapped in each other's arms, kissing, stumbling towards Steve's door, somehow getting it open and falling through to the room beyond. Brian went into his own room, slamming the door angrily. He kicked off his mules ('Damn uncomfortable things, fuck me if I know why I bought them...') and sprawled out on his bed. The little baggie in the bathroom was singing to him, a siren telling him of respite from pain. 'Fuckfuckfuck.... I really shouldn't do more, I probably shouldn't be doing it at all...But THEY shouldn't be doing THAT!' He grabbed his cigarettes off the nighttable and began smoking instead. One, two, three, chain-smoked like there was no tomorrow. 'Oh... my... God... not again, please not again!' Brian heard the loud creaking of bedsprings through the wall, followed by some less-than-subdued moaning. 'Fuck... fuck!' He reached for the remote on the bedside table and turned the TV on. *flip* *flip* *flipflipflip* 'ARGH! Just my luck! Infomercials for sex-lines is what I DON'T need!' He hit the power button and threw the remote at the wall separating the two rooms, noting with dark satisfaction as the back panel popped off and the batteries fell out. He lay back limply, wallowing in pity and jealousy. The siren song of needle started again, twice as strong as earlier. This time, Brian was helpless to resist. **SLAM** "Mmm, what was that?" "I think it was Brian's door..." "Why on earth would he be slamming his door?" "I don't know, but there's something I do know..." "Oh? What's that?" Steve leaned closer to Stef, his lips at the blond's ear. "I want you. Right now." "Well, I can't object to that...Ohh!" Steve replaced his lips at Stef's ear with his teeth, and was nibbling, first gently and then more insistantly. "My God, Steve..." **whump** A staccato noise carried through the wall by the bed. "..what was that?!" Steve looked up, his eyes widening as he noted that the door to their room was ajar. "Oh, shit... Stef..." Stefan followed Steve's gaze to the opened door. "Oh...no..." He rolled off the bed and walked into the hallway, Steve following closely behind him. He knocked on Brian's door. "Bri?" No answer. "Brian, you in there?" Steve tried the doorknob. Locked, of course. "Come on Brian, open the door. I need to talk to you-- /WE/ need to talk to you..." No answer. "Bri?" A note of fear crept into Steve's voice. A faint banging disrupted Brian's concentration, almost causing him to drop the spoon of shining liquid. 'Go away,' he silently willed at whoever was at his door, his eyes not leaving the rapidly melting contents of his silver-plated saviour. "We need to talk...." 'No we DON'T!' Brian put the spoon down so he could tie the rubber strip around his arm for the second time that day. He carefully drew the heroin into the syringe, injecting it into the same vein as earlier. "Brian..." The voice was faint, exasperated, scared. Brian leaned back against the bathroom wall. 'Screw them. Or rather, they can screw each other...' He absently opened one of the cupboards under the sink. A gleam of light off something inside caught his attention. 'Hello, what's this?' He leaned forward and saw, among other toiletries, a pair of straight-razors wrapped in paper printed with the hotel's logo. 'Beautiful! Perfect!' He quickly grabbed them and ripped the wrapper from one, pressing the cool metal of its side against the inside of his arm. He sighed, almost happily, before turning it and pressing the sharp edge to his arm. Lightly at first, then with more pressure... the length of the blade finally broke his pale skin, a thin line of dark blood welling up alongside it. He pushed harder, his drugged body barely feeling it. The blood began to drip down his arm in crimson rivulets, splashing slowly on the floor like his tears had the night before. He lifted the razor, pressing it down next to the first cut, repeating his steady pressure. A second crimson line appeared, it too dripping slowly. Brian moaned softly, the endorphin rush going straight to his head. He swooned slightly, and noticed the blood pooling on the floor. He reached out to touch it, feel it, make sure it was real. It was. He moved his finger slowly out of the puddle, dragging a crimson line behind it. He moved his finger back, drew another line. Then another. He smiled slightly; he had drawn a fairly pretty heart. Then an idea struck him. 'Ooh, bad girl!' he told himself, giggling to himself. He did it anyway. Finger back to the blood, more lines, inside the heart this time. His arm began to ache slightly. 'No, no, can't have that...' He brought the blade back to his arm, making more dark lines... "Fuck!" Steve was getting really frustrated. "Do you have a key to his room, Stef?" "I thought you did." He shrugged apologetically. "Shit!... I know, front desk!" "You think they'll give us one?" "They have to, I'll make them... we /really/ have to get in there, Stef." He took off for the stairs, Stef following a moment later. Brian stood up on unsteady legs. His arms were dripping with steady streams of blood, which landed on his dress, his legs, the floor, everywhere. The world spun, all of a sudden, and went black around the edges. He reached out for the marble counter, missed, pitched forward. On his way down, he hit his head against the edge of the counter. The rest of the world went black. Steve was out of breath when he got back to Brian's room. It had taken far too long to convince the desk staff to give them a key to Brian's room, and his heart had gotten more and more leaden with every passing second. He had never run as fast as he had on the way back up the stairs. He fumbled with the key in his trembling hand, trying to get it in. *snick* 'Finally!' He turned the handle and pushed the door open, almost violently in his haste. The room was empty. "Brian?" he called out, sick with worry. "Bri? Where are you?" He looked around and saw the broken remote control, but no Brian. He sighed and rolled his head back in despair. As he did, he saw the light under the door to the bathroom. He ran over, turned the handle. Locked! "FUCK! Stef, get in here now!" He threw himself at the door and was joined a moment later by Stefan. It took them a few moments, but their combined weight was soon enough to make the flimsy lock give way. They stumbled into the room, nearly tripping over Brian's body. "Oh... my... god... What have I done?" Steve breathed, his heart falling out the bottom of his feet. Brian lay in a pool of blood -- his own, by the looks of it -- and on the floor by his head, Steve saw his own name in a heart, written in the very same blood. Prev | Next Home |