Look Into My Kaleidoscope of Emotions, And Feel | By : lemonykisses Category: +S through Z > Static Shock Views: 4197 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Title: Reborn
By LissaChan
Rating: R for some language… just a precaution…
Warning(s): Very tragic, not death-wise, but I still felt my eyes tearing up… oh OOC and AU
Disclaimer: I do not own "Hard Road". The Shore does and I absolutely love this song. But I do own the groupies, Richie’s agent, and I also own the fact that Richie sings and can play the acoustic guitar. Haha! *smug smirk of victory*
A/N: Okay, this is a very sad one in my opinion. And if you guys love angst as much as I do, this is it. Don’t question how this came about just read. I needed to get it out of my head. That just means I have more room for the happy-ending ones.
/blah/ - thoughts
blah - lyrics
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Carnegie Hall, New York City. It’s Richie’s big night. 24-years-old, a foot in the door of success, and this is his shout to the world to let them know he exists. He’s gonna be big, says his agent, bigger than Cher, bigger than Kris Kristofferson. Richie himself doesn’t believe he sounds anything like either of them, especially Cher, but he gets his agent’s warped sense of logic.
He’s so nervous and has flashbacks of the first time he wrote this song he’s seconds away from singing in front of millions of viewers, thanks to the invention of the television. He’s just as nervous as when he first sings this to his muse. Let’s just say it’s not the reaction he wanted. Now his song is almost famous, and by tonight the entire nation will know it.
He hears his name. It’s time. He takes a few quick breaths, stretches his neck and shoulders, picks up his trusty acoustic guitar, and walks out as he hears the audience clapping and cheering. A few of his dedicated fans nearly scream and holler for all they’re worth. He’s famous in the underground radio scene already.
He walks over to the middle of the stage where a barstool is reserved just for him, when sitting down behind him is a band of trusted friends who joined up with him along the way. He clears his throat as he strums his guitar quickly. The audience dies down to a quiet hum.
He looks back at the drummer and nods. He nods back and starts clicking in time. He plays a quick beat and then electric guitars start playing.
"Hard Road", his number one hit so far is playing on Live TV and he almost forgets his place to start as he plays on his guitar.
I've been chasing you down
Waiting for something to bend
I've been lost, now I'm found
Sailing the tide to your heart
Even when he’s playing he reminisces about his muse. It’s the one who kept him going even if he did hate his guts. He keeps him from killing himself when his mother died from a random victim in a drive-by, when Frieda dies in his arms from hemorrhaging she received from a horrible car crash a couple of months later, and even when Virgil leaves him when he finds out he’s gay. Everyone it seemed abandons him. Not his muse.
/You were there to keep me going. You kept me angry enough to cloud over my depression./
You're taking the hard road
You never feel anymore
I'll let you come down easy
Let you be reborn
He’s at the prime age of eighteen when he writes this, not even meaning it to be a song. It starts out as a poem, built up from months of sexual frustration and angst. Then before he knows it he has a Number One Hit in his hands. He publishes it and sends it off to record labels. All but one out of twenty of his choosing decline, that one is his agent to this day.
/I have to remember to send him that Lynrd Skynrd box set before I get home/
Have some faith in the life
Going through windows and doors
But the seasons have changed
And I've never felt so alone
It takes another few months to develop his voice, since he never had any musical training whatsoever. By the time he’s almost nineteen he has it: high and a little nasally, but hypnotic even. Very original in his opinion and he never knew he had it in him.
You're taking the hard road
You never love anyone
Let me come down easy
Let me be the one, oh, oh…
He can’t see from the huge spotlights, but he knows he has every pair of eyes in the entire building on him, and from every television set. The girls gush about him like he’s the next Brad Pitt, only he sings. He can only snort and shake his head.
You've got one love on your mind
Try to get to heaven
If you got the time
I feel something I can't deny
Oh, no... oh, oh…
It’s hard holding the right notes out because he feels himself tearing up.
His muse rejects him right after he writes the song, "Faggot. That’s what you are. You’re a dirty faggot, who lives cock and muscles." A tear slips down his right cheek and everyone that night will perceive it as a tear of relief, happy to be acknowledged into the world. That tear wins over millions of viewers in the near future.
You're taking the hard road
You never love anyone
Let me come down easy
Let me be reborn
Oh, oh
But for right now all he can think about is Him: F-Stop. His muse for all of this. All of this means nothing without him. He rejects Richie over piddly words and look at him. Another tear gliding down his right cheek grabs millions of more hearts. He will star in commercials; sing songs for TV show themes, even do guest spots on some of them.
You've got one love on your mind
Try to get to heaven
If you got the time
I feel something I can't deny
Oh no… oh, oh…
Oh no…oh, oh…
Oh yeah… no, no, no, no…
It’s coming to an end and he gives it all he’s got, vocalizing in wavery pitches, stringing along more hearts from the crowd. He’s singing his heart out: pain, anguish, love, hate, desire, everything. This is his night no one is going to ruin his moment right now. Not even F-Stop.
Then he hears the audience gasping from the curtain behind him lifting up, revealing an orchestral band playing out a few chords in mostly violins and cellos. They are the most emotional instruments in Richie’s opinion. That’s why he chose them over all the rest. They’re the closest to revealing his dying emotions for his muse.
The song winds down and the audience goes nuts. The fan girls are screaming and hollering their lungs out again and he’s sure he’s half-deaf before it’s over with. He smiles around his watering eyes and stands up slowly, taking a bow. The band joins him in a line and they take a bow also.
He’s finally made it; he’s a Superstar.
THE END
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