[center] [img] http://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/5f708e0f-14d8-4926-b903-300da360203b.jpg [/img] [h1] Cadian Shirai [/h1] [color=Gainsboro] I want you to know I am fine here without you, but I can’t bring myself to lie to you… [/color] [ ♕ ] [ ♕ ] [ ♕ ] [/center] [color=Gainsboro] [color=gray] “I woke up thinking about her again,”[/color] Cadian spoke, his words intoned more of a confession than a simple statement. Before him the freeway opened up. Twelve till midnight, and the loop was empty of all but a few cars to each of its shining, rain-slicked lanes. It was night here in The Badlands, these days it always felt like it was night. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually saw the sun, as even in the morning, the orange glow on the horizon was dimmed and rendered insignificant by the heavy set clouds that held sway over the city. Trash lined the inner curve of the loop, brown paper bags from restaurants, and clam-shell burger boxes, empty cups and broken bottles spotting the sides of the road, glinting light back into his eyes from his headlights. For a city that is constantly being scrubbed with rain, Cadian could only note just how dirty it still was. Perhaps it would be better for him, healthier for him, if he would learn to see past it, like everyone else seems to. Moments of silence served the only response to his confession, but what else did Cadian expect. He was alone in the car, his phone turned off in his pocket, so who had he been expecting to offer a note of apology or concern over the statement? Surely, the last time he checked, he wasn’t sure of the existence of a God. He counted exists, watched the other cars in his rearview, searching the darkness for flashing azure, while ahead his eyes bore through the droplets of rain running rivulets across his windshield to take in the only light that seemed left in his world. Bright neon lights shown in a myriad of colors: blues and reds glaring from what must be a thousand different sources, like a living impressionist’s canvas. Speed blurred them together as he passed, picking out a word here, a letter there, giving none of it much more than a moment’s thought, just enough to decode the information in his mind, to discard it was worthless. The practice was worthless, the city never changed, except where it grew, but the practice kept his mind occupied and away from thoughts of her. She was hard to get over, difficult to forget. She had been an escape from the bleakness of this place; she seemed to shine with her own light. [color=gray]“I don’t want to think of it again,” [/color] Cadian spoke, as he depressed the gas pedal further towards the floor, the engine of the mustang revving in response, the needle rising quickly. Another three exits to go, and this damned solitude would be over, and he would have something else to occupy his mind. Krystopher would be waiting for him at the club with that obnoxious optimism that seemed so horribly out of place here in The Badlands. Sometimes he thought Krystopher didn’t know any better. Surely, his brother had to be aware of the hell they lived in. However, he somehow never seemed to let it phase him. Cadian was not sure whether that made him the stronger of the two, capable of still smiling after this reality took grace from his life, or the most naïve, holding on to an absurd belief that things would get better. It was why he hated his brother, made him want to shake him, scream and rage until he saw the bitter truth – it was why he loved him. Jealousy was the truth. Cadian wished he didn’t’ see it either. He pulled into the drive, parked, and walked around back. The alleyway between Passion and an old bricked warehouse was lit by a single, naked bulb suspended in a fixture just above a metal door. The rest of the building was sleek, black metal, with no sense of décor or style, a stark contrast the building’s street face appearance. More trash lined the alleyway, broken bottles and crushed beer cans, splintered wood from old palettes, ripped clothes, old condoms, and an old tin trash can, vintage and remarkably stereotypical, rusted and shoved off into the darkness at the edge of the small circle of light cast by the bulb on the ground. Cadian stood in the center, drawing his keys free of his pocket, where he had placed the moments ago, and fumbled for the door’s key when it suddenly opened. [color=SlateGray] “There you are,” [/color] the voice rang, as Cadian took a quick step back, so not to be hit by the opening door. Krystopher Shirai, with his shaggy brown hair, a mop on thick strands that seemed to haphazardly spill across his head, closed the door behind him slowly, holding it so it didn’t latch and lock behind him. [color=SlateGray] “I tried calling…” [/color] The seriousness on Krystopher’s face was out of character. The heavy downward turn to hips surrounded by deep laugh lines, and the almost aged heaviness that holds sway in his normally ageless eyes brings Cadian’s mind into focus, drawing the next question out of him almost unbidden. [color=gray] “What happened?” [/color] [color=SlateGray] “Yumi’s upset. They say that Spencer went missing,”[/color] [color=gray] “Missing how,” [/color] Cadian demanded, looking past his brother to the heavy metal door, as though he could see Yumi just on the other side. They had a past, him and Yumi, a twisted and complicated relationship that had been very intense, passionate, and finally settled down to a general inability to do without one another, though they neither one trusted the other to such a degree anymore as they had before. Too much happened. Too many harsh words, too many nights he couldn’t take back. [color=SlateGray] “They don’t know, but rumor is…” [/color] [color=gray]“The bridge?” [/color] Krystopher just nodded, and Cadian exhaled a breath, before putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder, and stepping past into the back of the club. Darkness as black as pitch engulfed him as Krystopher pulled the door to behind him, and in silence they walked. Cadian’s steps were measured, ten steps from the back door to the first office, where Yumi would no doubt be hiding herself… another set of ten would take him to Wither’s dressing room. Ten steps in and he paused, standing outside the thick, wooden door he knew to be hidden in the stark darkness, his hand blindly feeling for the cool metal of the knob. His heart beat in his throat He would offer her his concern. He could take her in his arms, comfort her, knowing that to do so would escalate things again. It was how their relationship endured, how the attraction that existed between them didn’t drive the mind to thoughts of a second chance…. There were no ‘maybe this times’, as long as they spent whatever time they could reasonably attribute to emotional turmoil in each other’s arms. Fulfilling a need in one another. He turned the knob, not thinking about Spencer. Not thinking about Yumi’s well being, but remembering just how painful it was to wake up this morning, alone. How much he didn’t want to do it again tomorrow. [color=gray]“Yumi…” [/color] Cadian spoke, and he closed the door behind him. [center] [ ♕ ] [ ♕ ] [ ♕ ] [/center] The stage was darkened as Cadian, Krystopher, Evan and Jorge stepped silently onto the stage. Cadian stood still, head bowed, his guitar strapped over his shoulder, the weight of it a comfort. Dreams danced before his eyes in the darkness… she was always beautiful when the music was in his mind, and the lights had yet to come up. In silent anticipation they waited for the song playing through the club to draw to an end, the final beats of it dying as the strobes suddenly cut off, the room as pitch black as the hallway backstage had been. Cadian drew a deep breath, in through his nose, feeling the beating of his heart roaring loud in his ears, his pulse racing, the music within clawing its way into his blood, to fight through veins as though trying to escape him. [color=gray]“Tonight is all there is,” [/color] Cadian started, his voice ringing through the darkness, drawing the club to as near as silence as is possible. Eyes turned to face the stage, as from the darkness his voice comes. A whisper of words through the velvet of night, caressing the minds of those gathered. [color=gray]“Nothing else matters. The world outside has met it’s end ladies and gentlemen, and nothing remains. The angles of heaven have been released, death and destruction worked their heavenly charges… but these walls have protected you. There are no more jobs, no more bills, no more enemies to hate or friends to concern yourselves with. Light, darkness, religion, pain, happiness, and sorrow… the totality of human existence has been reduced to nothing more than what lies between these four walls. Forget it all. Forget the pain. Forget the torment. Forget the jealousy, the fear, the need, the hunger…. Feel the music.” [/color] He strummed a few notes on his guitar, the opening melody to a song whispering through the crowd. [color=gray] “Love yourselves for this night, love one another as if tonight is the last, because tomorrow…. Surely the world ends.” [/color] [/color] [sub] [color=Moccasin] Every Avenue - Between You and I [/color] [/sub]