|
Deleted
|
Post by Deleted on Oct 21, 2013 4:15:17 GMT
I know I'm wrong, I'm a problem
That'll never ever be solved
Apparently, fetching cigarettes wasn't in his assistant's job description. Especially not when she was on the other side of town and he could get his own damn cigarettes because she wasn't going to encourage his filthy habit. It was times like this that he had to cut his losses and head out onto the streets himself.
He didn't go out much since he'd gotten back to Nova. If he could have it his way, he'd sit up in his penthouse and watch the city below from a distance, he'd take a goddamn fucking break. But no, his band and his work had followed him here, so he'd taken up smoking twofold.
Salem always stood out - he was better dressed than most people out on the street, and his hair stood out, no matter how big and dark his shades were as he slipped out the doors of his building and to the nearest convenience store. He dropped a few packs of cigarettes onto the counter. The clerk raised a brow, but rang him up, and Salem was pulling open his wallet for his credit card when the chimes over the door signaled another customer, though he didn't so much as glance over.
|
|
|
|
Post by LANCE DAVIDSON on Oct 21, 2013 5:08:59 GMT
Days were busy of lately, seeing how Lance had landed himself another gig with his temporary band. It was a fact he didn't even try to sugar-coat to himself.
His reasons for being out was to search out the nearby areas for good places for a show, asking around for peoples' opinions, and other things of the like. He was pretty good at spreading the word. It wasn't his fault that most of the band members he performed with were dumbasses and didn't follow up. Seemed like nobody could take care of things themselves without having a mental breakdown and getting "stressed".
As he walked, he saw an advertisement for some sort of fru-fru coffee drink at a cafe. He was thirsty, though he didn't feel like having anything sugary, and decided to stop by the convenience store nearby.
Heh, funny how ads work. He felt duped for falling for it, but he could't really help it. It'd been hours since he'd had anything decent to drink.
The little bells on the door chimed, signaling his entrance and he walked through the isles almost blocking the door. He passed the candies and chips, gum and weird meaty stick snacks, and went straight for a huge bottle of water. Really, Lance didn't care too much about his health, but since he sang, he figured he should at least try to be healthy every now and again. It couldn't hurt him.
Once he'd figured out what he wanted, he walked up to the cash register, stopping a few feet short. His mouth hung open at the sight of the man directly in front of him. He'd recognize that back anywhere.
Those shoulders and that hair... They could only belong to...
"You have got to be kidding me," a slightly gruff voice came out, aimed right at the back of the familiar man's frame. That's all he said and that's all he had to say. He knew he'd be noticed; at least he hoped so. Lance didn't feel like being overly attention-seeking.
| [attr="class","ssslip"]  [attr="class","tttrepid"]@salem |
[newclass=.ssslip]width:100px;height:100px;background:#fff;padding:5px;border:solid 1px #000;margin-top:-30px; margin-left: 10px; position:relative; z-index: 2;[/newclass][newclass=.tttrepid]float:right; background:#fff;padding:5px;border:solid 1px #000;margin-top:-30px; margin-left: 10px; position:relative; z-index: 2;[/newclass] |
|
|
Deleted
|
Post by Deleted on Oct 21, 2013 13:23:47 GMT
I know I'm wrong, I'm a problem
That'll never ever be solved
Salem pulled out his credit card and shoved the chip into the machine. He could hear the other person about the store as he watched the transaction, and he was pulling it out when the voice piped up.
He shouldn't have turned around. He should have ignored it, whether it was a teenage girl half his age asking to marry him or a guy who didn't know who he was but thought he looked pretty gay (does this look like a meet and greet?, think I give a shit, I make more money in a day than you'll ever see in your life, your girlfriend probably gets off to me; respectively).
But he did turn, and he had his shiny platinum card in hand as he turned to face an all too familiar man, one who hadn't seem to have changed much. Salem, on the other hand, had changed plenty, though he thought, with more than a hint of satisfaction, that Lance must know what he looked like anyways, whether he cared or not.
Salem had based himself in LA, he'd admit, to avoid his old bandmates. Now he remembered why he didn't like to leave his penthouse, why he didn't live here anymore.
He ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth, thoughtfully as he looked Lance over. Then he turned back to the clerk. "One more pack."
He grinned at Lance, damn smugly. "Fancy seeing you here." He said lightly, as if he hadn't expected him to be stuck on this little island after all these years. As if, oh yeah, he quit the band, he'd never filmed music videos in Tokyo, never played shows in Moscow or been to New York fashion week.
|
|
|
|
Post by LANCE DAVIDSON on Oct 21, 2013 16:47:11 GMT
He glowered at that smug smirk spreading across Salem's face and it made Lance's stomach twist and turn into knots. He was happy that he'd grabbed a bottle of water because he had the sudden realization that if he didn't get some kind of liquid on his tongue he was going to possibly puke.
Not caring that he hadn't payed for it yet, Lance opened up the water bottle and took a hug drink from it, looking at Salem all the while, completely ignoring the cashier's displeased tone at opening the bottle before purchasing. It wasn't like he was going to just walk out the front door without paying for the thing. Guy needed to chill out.
Lance needed to chill out.
"The fuck are you doing in Nova Athens?" The raven asked with a bit of a breath as he finished swallowing down the cool water, calming down his nerves.
His eyes traveled the superstar up and down, taking in the sight of what millionaires look like as it stood just a couple of feet in front of him. Lance hated to admit to himself that the man was looking good, but he scowled at that line of thought and he definitely didn't speak it. The last thing he needed was to be patronized, as if he hadn't been already. Not even five words had left the blonde's mouth and he was being sarcastic. "Fancy meeting you here." Ha. As if he fancied anything about Lance anymore.
"I thought you too busy banging women and drowning in your singles and EPs to even dream of coming around here anymore," Lance added on disdainfully. It almost sounded like a compliment, as if he'd sounded proud of his once upon a time friend, but it wasn't. It didn't even come close.
| [attr="class","ssslip"] [attr="class","tttrepid"]@salem |
[newclass=.ssslip]width:100px;height:100px;background:#fff;padding:5px;border:solid 1px #000;margin-top:-30px; margin-left: 10px; position:relative; z-index: 2;[/newclass][newclass=.tttrepid]float:right; background:#fff;padding:5px;border:solid 1px #000;margin-top:-30px; margin-left: 10px; position:relative; z-index: 2;[/newclass] |
|
|
Deleted
|
Post by Deleted on Oct 22, 2013 3:38:41 GMT
I know I'm wrong, I'm a problem
That'll never ever be solved
Salem could see Lance's composure ripple. He had a tendency towards bluntness, but there was no reason to be rude. He didn't even need to resort to insults, even if he had plenty of things in mind. The fact that Salem had gone on to bigger things, that sell-out or not he was a sensation, his was a presence Lance couldn't ignore, that Salem's shoes probably cost more than Lance paid in monthly rent - that was enough a slap to the face.
Salem watched with a raised brow as Lance chugged the water before he finally found it in him to speak. He sounded furious, but Salem's tone was calmer, if not a bit haughty.
"I can do those things here, too." He pointed out. "It's good to remember your roots. Stay humble." And Lance had done just that, it seemed. Salem had thought of him, had wondered what he was up to - they had been close growing up and starting the band - but he found himself caring less the more time passed. He couldn't even recall the last time he'd spared his first frontman a thought, to be honest.
"You know what?" He turned back to the disgruntled clerk. "Ring up the water too." Salem smiled back at Lance, flashed his credit card. "As a thank you for all you've done for me."
|
|
|
|
Post by LANCE DAVIDSON on Oct 22, 2013 4:54:19 GMT
"Like hell you will," he glowered at Salem, then looked over to the man behind the counter and shook his head no. "I can pay for my own shit. And what the fuck does that mean? All I've done for you..."
That condescending voice, that air about him when he made his small movements, that sarcastic smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Every little thing about Salem right then made Lance want to punch him square in the jaw.
So what if he had money? So all of the sudden he can just treat him like shit and it be okay? Lance was't going to have any of that and he damn well sure was going to let Salem know it. Actually, if Salem truly did remember anything about Lance, then he'd already known.
Eventually, an awful grin tugged at the corners of the raven's lips and he glared at Salem through his fringe, gripping his water bottle a little too tightly, causing the plastic to crackle and the paper to wrinkle under the pressure of his fingers.
"Heh, all that fortune and fame has really gotten to your head, huh. You've always been a douchebag, but you've hit an all time new low," the frontman purred and he lifted up a few locks of that platinum blonde hair, letting it fall out from his fingertips and drop to the guitarist's shoulder. Did you fashion your hair after your platinum records? That's really cute."
| [attr="class","ssslip"] [attr="class","tttrepid"]@salem |
[newclass=.ssslip]width:100px;height:100px;background:#fff;padding:5px;border:solid 1px #000;margin-top:-30px; margin-left: 10px; position:relative; z-index: 2;[/newclass][newclass=.tttrepid]float:right; background:#fff;padding:5px;border:solid 1px #000;margin-top:-30px; margin-left: 10px; position:relative; z-index: 2;[/newclass] |
|
|
Deleted
|
Post by Deleted on Oct 23, 2013 2:12:57 GMT
I know I'm wrong, I'm a problem
That'll never ever be solved
A bottle of water was hardly a dent in his fortune, though of course Lance was livid at his offering to pay. Good. Salem shrugged as if to say suit yourself. He still had his credit card between his fingers, and he held it up with a shrug. "Is this what rock bottom looks like, I wonder?" He gave Lance another pointed once over before he turned to the cashier to pay for his own purchases.
He felt Lance lifting his hair, dropping it, and his lip curled. "Don't touch me." He snarled, sliding his card out of the machine and turning back around.
"Do you still do the band thing? How many platinum records does your band have? Or," his brow furrowed as if in thought. "Have I never heard of them?"
|
|
|
|
Post by LANCE DAVIDSON on Oct 23, 2013 2:47:45 GMT
His smile never left his face, especially when the other hissed at not wanting to be touched. All that did for Lance was make him want to touch the other man more, just out of spite. Just to piss him off.
"I wouldn't know what rock bottom looks like; I've never been there," he replied to the blonde, still gripping the bottle a little too tightly. Thoughts of swinging it across Salem's head or possibly up-turning it flashed through his mind plenty of times as he stood there and chatted.
Though, the low stab at his own fame stung Lance's pride and he growled silently at the superstar for that, his eyes narrowing challengingly. The raven didn't bother with responding to that question, knowing it was only for Salem's sick pleasure at seeing his ex-friend writhe around like a wounded animal caught in a snare.
His rage built up and his other hand tensed as he watched Salem's face wrinkle in mock confusion, Lance's teeth gritting as he tried his best to stay under control, more than he ever would for anyone else.
"What the fuck's your problem? Feel so guilty you're resorted to snide remarks and stabs? Heh... I feel sorry for you."
Sore for being left behind, sore for being forgotten, sore for not even being cared about. That was Lance's problem and he'd known it for years, not that Salem would care. And that little thought in the back of his mind hurt him even more to think about. It hurt a lot to think that someone he used to be so close to was suddenly so far away from him that he was an entirely different person.
"I bet you don't even recognize yourself in the mirror when you wake up in the mornings."
| [attr="class","ssslip"] [attr="class","tttrepid"]@salem |
[newclass=.ssslip]width:100px;height:100px;background:#fff;padding:5px;border:solid 1px #000;margin-top:-30px; margin-left: 10px; position:relative; z-index: 2;[/newclass][newclass=.tttrepid]float:right; background:#fff;padding:5px;border:solid 1px #000;margin-top:-30px; margin-left: 10px; position:relative; z-index: 2;[/newclass] |
|
|
Deleted
|
Post by Deleted on Oct 27, 2013 17:10:31 GMT
I know I'm wrong, I'm a problem
That'll never ever be solved
Irritably, he swept his hair over his shoulder, away from Lance. He could hear the plastic crinkling in his hand, and he took that as a sign that he was getting to him. How could he not be? Salem slid his card back into his wallet and back into his pocket, casually as if Lance wasn't standing there glowering. When he did look up, it was as if he'd just noticed him, as if he was surprised to see Lance still standing and waiting.
"Guilty?" He smiled – no hate in the curve of his lips, just pity, because that would sting all the more. "You walked out. Don't blame me because you missed out." Salem reminded him, tone icy. He had grappled with guilt, as much as he reminded himself that it had been Lance's own decision. He had chosen obscurity where Salem had chosen fame and riches. But he refused to feel bad now - this was the last thing he needed.
"The entire world recognizes me, Lance." He said as he grabbed his cigarettes from the counter.
"Jealousy doesn't suit you." That was all it was. Lance was the one who regretted things, Lance was the one who had chosen wrong.
|
|
|
|
Post by LANCE DAVIDSON on Oct 27, 2013 22:54:46 GMT
"I'm not talking about the whole world, I'm talking about you, ya little shit." Lance hissed out, taking a step closer to the other man out of reflex.
He knew it was futile. He knew there was no point in this particular line of conversations, that Salem was too conceited or self-righteous, or both, to care about anything of Lance's feelings. None of it mattered anymore because Lance was left behind and Salem was so rich he could own him if he wanted to.
Lance recognized that, but he didn't care. He didn't see the oh so famous band member Salem Bauer. No, he saw the Salem Bauer he grew up with and started the band with. That's who he saw. Or well, that's what he wanted to see.
"At least I still have my self-respect," the raven spat out, a dangerous tone to his voice.
His tempter was rising and it wouldn't be long until he couldn't hold himself back from doing something he might regret later and he'd had enough regrets in his lifetime. Lance was sure he didn't need anymore. However, the longer he stood there, the more his need to care left him. Oh, how nice it would feel to pull a few tears from Salem's eyes for once.
| [attr="class","ssslip"] [attr="class","tttrepid"]@salem |
[newclass=.ssslip]width:100px;height:100px;background:#fff;padding:5px;border:solid 1px #000;margin-top:-30px; margin-left: 10px; position:relative; z-index: 2;[/newclass][newclass=.tttrepid]float:right; background:#fff;padding:5px;border:solid 1px #000;margin-top:-30px; margin-left: 10px; position:relative; z-index: 2;[/newclass] |
|
|
Deleted
|
Post by Deleted on Oct 29, 2013 5:09:47 GMT
I know I'm wrong, I'm a problem
That'll never ever be solved
He had to make a concerted effort to keep from crumpling the cigarette pack in his hand. Instead he gritted his teeth and focused on tearing off the plastic and crinkling it in his fist as he shook a cigarette from the pack. He twirled it in his fingers, he was ready to go out and smoke as many cigarettes as it took to forget Lance and this whole encounter.
The clerk said something about not smoking in the store, Salem wasn't listening.
Lance had stepped closer. Salem had half a mind to step away, but more than that he had the pride to stand his ground.
"You sound damn proud for someone who doesn't have much to brag about." There was an edge in his tone too, now.
|
|
|
|
Post by LANCE DAVIDSON on Oct 29, 2013 11:25:22 GMT
Lance's eyes glanced down when he heard the cigarette pack start to crinkle. There it was, Salem's resolve was crumbling and that tickled Lance like no other. He loved seeing Salem like this, where Lance's words start to stab through him.
The feeling in his chest was overwhelming, he was getting excited, he wanted to cut Salem more and show him how much he really did fuck up. Oh god, how much he wanted to prove that blonde wrong. He'd sat there for years planning this sweet, little moment. What he was going to say and how he was going to say it...
It wasn't much, only four little words...
"I didn't sell out," the T clipped towards the end as-a-matter-of-factly.
| [attr="class","ssslip"] [attr="class","tttrepid"]@salem |
[newclass=.ssslip]width:100px;height:100px;background:#fff;padding:5px;border:solid 1px #000;margin-top:-30px; margin-left: 10px; position:relative; z-index: 2;[/newclass][newclass=.tttrepid]float:right; background:#fff;padding:5px;border:solid 1px #000;margin-top:-30px; margin-left: 10px; position:relative; z-index: 2;[/newclass] |
|
|
Deleted
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 2, 2013 7:16:31 GMT
I know I'm wrong, I'm a problem
That'll never ever be solved
Of course. How long had the prick been waiting - hoping, dreaming - of running into Salem to remind him of this?
Salem Bauer was plenty of things, but stupid wasn't one of them. He knew he was talented, he was good at what he did, but he wasn't fooling himself. He wasn't a humble celebrity and he wasn't a nice guy, no matter how much money he sent to hurricane relief funds.
Salem Bauer was plenty of things, and angry was one of them. Furious - as if Lance was any better than him, because he'd decided to stay poor and unknown while Salem had gone on to better, bigger things.
"So fuckin proud, are we?" Salem had had plenty of practice in talking down to people. "Don't act like you never wanted all of this. Don't act like you're a high and mighty warrior of true music - you wanted the record deal every bit as much as we did. Remember, you sang for the demos and played all those shows too. You made one bad decision and now you're making like you don't regret it. I get it." He stepped back, managing to keep his face blank, managing to keep from snapping the cigarette in his hand.
He felt a little better with his retort. He could remind himself that there was nothing Lance could do to him now. Riches, fame, glory - and what did Lance have?
Salem wanted the last word, and he was already heading for the door, before Lance could say anything. But he paused. He couldn't help but want a final jab. "But you never answered my question - you still in a band? What's it called? I can look you guys up online or something." He added nonchalantly.
|
|
|
|
Post by LANCE DAVIDSON on Nov 2, 2013 8:02:46 GMT
That was undoubtedly true. Lance wanted that fame and those riches just like Salem had, but he didn't want it by giving in. He wanted to have it for real. It was worthless to him unless he earned it for himself, his real sound. Lance didn't want to bend over backwards for fame. It wasn't for the fame. It was for his music being liked. The reason why Salem went in was completely different than why Lance would go in and he was fairly certain that Salem was very aware of that.
Lance was about to mention all of that and continue to rub it all into Salem's face, but he was cut off, his mouth open with a held breath as he listened to Salem go on to make himself feel better about his actions and it made Lance almost laugh. He was smiling by the end of it.
He was willing to let Salem go with that, but the last thing did it in for him. That last little bit was what broke the camel's back and Lance dropped that water bottle. His feet moved from where he stood to the superstar and Lance was glad the door said "PUSH" instead of "PULL" because the raven pushed Salem out onto the sidewalk, followed by a swift face full of knuckles.
"You don't give a DAMN about me or my band or whether or not I'm even still in one you low-life piece of shit, Lance blared out to the blonde, throwing another punch in his sarcastic face.
Lance didn't care about the crowed looking over at them and he ignored the sting in his hand as it tensed up to grab the lapels of Salem's shirt pulling him in so close that their noses almost touched. His eyes were sharp as they glared, baring holes into the other man's gaze.
"Nothing but a whiny, little bitch--that's what you've turned into. Of course you don't have any respect for me. You don't even have any respect for yourself!" Lance was shouting in Salem's face by that point and he couldn't deny one fact about it...
It hurt. A lot.
| [attr="class","ssslip"] [attr="class","tttrepid"]@salem |
[newclass=.ssslip]width:100px;height:100px;background:#fff;padding:5px;border:solid 1px #000;margin-top:-30px; margin-left: 10px; position:relative; z-index: 2;[/newclass][newclass=.tttrepid]float:right; background:#fff;padding:5px;border:solid 1px #000;margin-top:-30px; margin-left: 10px; position:relative; z-index: 2;[/newclass] |
|
|
Deleted
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 5, 2013 0:51:20 GMT
I know I'm wrong, I'm a problem
That'll never ever be solved
Salem couldn't remember the last time he'd been in a fight. Probably a drunken squabble at some party, years ago. More recently, he'd hit a few paparazzi, but the last time that anyone had had the balls to actually try to hit him was further back than he could remember.
It was unexpected, though maybe it shouldn't have been.
The crinkle of plastic, content flaring up a moment, then Salem felt his shoulder ramming against the door, before it spilled the two of them out onto the street. He stumbled, caught off guard – he realized that Lance had landed a punch, and that he was hitting back on autopilot, snarling that "Nobody gives a shit about your band."
"I have everything, Lance, I matter, and you're just bitter about missing your chance - don't blame me, fuckin deadbeat." He retorted, glowering back at Lance. He had felt removed from all of it for a moment, and suddenly Salem was all too aware of the people around them, the throbbing of what would be a bruise by tomorrow morning, the click of a phone camera somewhere. Lance's hand was fisted in the lapels of his suit jacket.
"Touch me again and I'll sue you for all the money you never had." He said, somehow managing to sound calm through gritted teeth, wretching himself from his grip.
|
|
