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Just a little something I wrote for another guild's RP (I'll link later xD). Posting it up here for anyone interested or bored enough to read this. I'm a veteran of analytical papers; and am essentially, a beginner in creative writing. Feedback will be appreciated smile .



Elsewhere...

He just wanted to get out of the house. All the b***h did was nag him about this and that; how they had 'bills to pay', 'children to feed' and most of all, how he 'was never around'. The only way he got her to shut the ******** up was to concede in the form of a wedding ring and a nice suburban home.

But no, she wanted more. 'Let's start a business Dave', 'you're making so much Korn money we should be able to double it!'.

He cringed at the memory of her voice; hand grasping his shoulder, lips to his ear. Constant, constant pressure. Now his bandmates were up for another record; and he'd been ignoring their calls for what felt like months. He just didn't feel all that up to it.

It's not like he didn't care, no, quite the contrary. It was the commitment he hated; the demands - the constant feeling of being stretched too damn thin. He was always one for personal space; and for ******** sake why couldn't everyone just give him ********> He whispered in a silent scream, more to himself than anything else. Head hung low, he clenched his fists and grit his teeth. It was all too much for him. He wanted to get away from it all, but his silent brooding was interrupted by the subtle rusted twang of a screen door opening.

"Dave...", Shannon called to him.

He flinched at the sound of her saccharine voice.

"Come back inside", she ordered wryly with a smile.

With a deep sigh he slowly turned to face her. "Not now" he said calmy, "I need to think".

And with that, he turned his heel and briskly walked to his car. Gracefully with trembling hands he opened the door, slid in, and with one swift motion shut himself in and turned on the ignition.

He sped away into the sunset, not even bothering to look back. Maybe he was selfish; maybe he was being an unaccomodating b*****d. At this point he ceased all care. So he drove to nowhere.

Unlike Jonathan, he couldn't put his frustrations into prose. In fact, he'd rather not. Words were not his strong point, he'd usually sit in the background and watch the s**t hit the fan. He rarely lost his temper, unlike Fieldy. Nights out wasted with Munk and Head, or a session bashing out his drumskins were his only escapes; but usually he just wanted to keep to himself - he was 'the quiet one'.

In truth, he was sick of the monotonous rockstar life he'd always dreamed of. He feared he was turning into nothing more than a cliche. It was no longer a dream - it was a lucrative job.

Everyone around him wanted something - money, connections, work-product. Work. Music didn't used to feel like 'work'. He missed the fun times, the parties, the drugs, the casual sex. Sure, he still did all of those to excess - but it wasn't the same. Back then he didn't have this stigma attached to everything he did. Back then he was an idiot, and now, he was starting to grow up.

He wondered how long he could last in this lifestyle - Korn's star was rising fast, and he knew in his heart that his band hadn't even begun to reach their peak. He'd try his best to keep up with them for as long as possible.

He wondered how long he could last before he burned out before his bandmates, his friends, did. He knew he would. One day.

"Maybe this just isn't for me..." he said to himself as he drove without direction.


(Well, that was depressing xD. Hope I went about all this right... haha. Only wrote this because I'm writing something bigger for the DBZ fandom as per my desire, but took Dani's advice with writing something spontaneous to advance my meager skills. Trying to take on David's moody persona was the perfect practice for tonight.

Humanising David was both hard and oddly simple. I miss the quiet b*****d. Cheers! Who knows when I'll see this place again.)