Scarred Hearts and Hopeless Dreamers [OC x ???]
Posted: Mon Aug 20, 2012 11:57 pm
I've really been thinking lately, and I have managed to make out an idea of an Original Character. It's a very small idea, but I'm sure when I begin writing the story, it will grow with each new post. My first Original Character. Enjoy. Feedback and Constructive Criticism is Welcome and Appreciated. I'm trying to thoroughly introduce my character, and to do that, I would need to write down a prologue before the main story. I apologize if its quite long. I just feel like I need to start this character's story as thorough as I can. Feedback and constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated.
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(Scarred Hearts and Hopeless Dreamers)
Prologue:
1. Finish.
They're calling for us. I can feel it underneath my skin. We all can. The roars bounce off each individual locker, eventually finding its way into our ears. Some react to it like it was only a whisper from a non-existent wind, shaking it off as they wait to charge through the gates, straight into the fray. Veterans. Others make it look like the noise is an actual beast, standing right behind them, sending puffs of wicked steam down their spines. I don't blame them. I used to conjure up weird explanations as to why I felt the way I did. Maybe I was scared. The fact that one simple mistake will bring down the wrath of not only my enemies, but even those who fight by my side. It's a horrifying thought. Maybe I was nervous. No amount of practice can make you ready enough. You have to be willing to lose before even considering a victory. A lesson needed to be learned by everyone going through what we will in a few minutes. A lesson I was forced to learn. However, that was almost 2 years ago. Today is different. I'm a junior now. My skills have grown into a level of its own. Surpassing expectations one would have for someone my age. My mindset and the ways I react to these situations, have matured through the rough experiences I put myself through. In the end, it was worth it. The team that used to have me in the back, making me only noticeable to myself, is now mine. Tonight, I will lead them into battle.
My team sits on metal benches, waiting for the ominous growl that looms overhead to explode into an ear splitting discord. When it does, it would mean that we would have five more minutes until the inevitable. I study the small square tiles under my feet. It's painted with a bright color design that makes my team look like we're hanging out in an elegant bathroom. Normally, the blue tiles would look out of place in a locker room, but the blue, freshly painted lockers actually make it work. The entire color scheme probably gives out a relaxing atmosphere for the athletes and students that come in here after an intense workout. Pretty thoughtful for a high school. In fact, the only thing that looks out of place are the bodies sitting on metal benches dressed in different shades of red and white.
I breathe in the locker room air, taking in the delicate scent of lavender, and close my eyes as I lean my head back on the locker behind me. Might as well try to relax before my heart rate goes through the roof in a few moments. My thoughts begin to rewind through hours of practice sessions with my team. My body gradually begins to move to a silent rhythm. It seems like it has a mind of its own, but this only assures me that the time spent working, was time that was well spent.
A soft elbow nudges at my side. I turn to my left, meeting the curious gaze of a seventeen year old's brown eyes. A familiar face that I've seen at my birthday celebrations, my first through eleventh grade classes, and at times when I needed someone just to be there. After all these years, his face still looks he has stopped growing at age twelve. Blonde hair that peeks out under a red beanie, rest on his light skinned forehead. He reaches up to the red fuzz ball on top of his hat and adjusts it. He looks like a skater boy. Thin smiling lips begin to move and a soft voice lets out afterwards.
"Mason, are you having a seizure?" he asks.
I shake my head and my own smile forms on my tan face.
"Nah, just trying to relax. Hey, Where's your skateboard at?" I joke, flicking his little fuzz ball. It barely moves.
He snickers brightly at my joke. He crosses his arms and leans back on the locker. I join him and lean back as well. He shakes his head and starts to move his hands in an explaining motion.
"Hey, this beanie suits me," he begins, his voice quickly becoming louder and louder "Besides! Skaters can't flip around the way I do!" He shouts, jerking his thumb into his chest. His statement is full of confidence, and with good reason. He can back up his words with front flips, back flips, corkscrews, and other crazy stuff that can easily have a crowd of strangers in awe.
At this point, his voice attracts the attention of plenty other boys who share this side of the locker room with us. One boy in particular, stood out from the rest. I knew him, but then again, I knew everyone on this team. He stood out because he places my friend's shoulder into a death grip with his olive palms. I smile.
"Toby. Shut. Up." He warns. He sounds like a bear that has recently woken up from hibernation.
Toby's baby face winces with fear, instantly aging by five years. He slowly turns to his attacker. His body looks so tense that I actually start to listen for it to creak like the floorboards of an abandoned home. Toby is eye to eye with him now. Both faces with opposite expressions. My smile begins to let out a chuckle. The boys around me are visibly worrying for Toby. Their faces make me cover my mouth, as I try to suppress my laughter.
Suddenly, Toby breaks the stalemate with a shove at the attacker's chest. He bumps back into the boy next to him and starts a chain reaction. I see it reach the very end of the bench as a boy slides of his seat, causing another chain of laughter from that side of the room. The boys around us sigh softly to themselves and continue their own conversations.
Toby calms down, restoring five years back into his face. Adjusting the sleeves of his light red cardigan, he fixes his collar and shakes his head.
"Freakin' Isaiah! I swear dude! You're always messing with me! I'm not a freshman anymore man!"
Isaiah shrugs. His shoulders being cloaked by an expensive looking red Letterman jacket. The letters "I" and "W" are stitched onto the breast of the jacket in white cloth, and again on the right white sleeve but in red. His black pants fit nicely around his legs, the cuffs meeting the top of cool looking red shoes that tap lightly on the blue tiles. They definitely look like they cost much more than Toby's red shoes, even if they are identical. Toby's black pants are not as tight as Isaiah's or mines. I figured, he needs the space for flipping around, otherwise, it's just a major wardrobe malfunction waiting to happen.
"Sorry Toby, I guess I just miss those good old days!" Isaiah says with a grin, his white teeth peaking out in between thick lips. "I'm leaving this year so... I'm trying to make it memorable you know?" he says, with his million dollar smile. His facade can't hide the faint sadness behind his voice. He leans forward, elbows resting at his bent knees.
I am not the only one who notices the tone. Toby places a hand on Isaiah's shoulder.
"Don't worry about to much buddy! We'll still keep in touch. Me, Mason, and the rest of the dudes here will miss you! And... if you're going to miss the school life, that wouldn't be a problem. You've got more scholarships than I have pores." Toby says. His exaggeration isn't far from the truth. Isaiah's one talented guy, and colleges look for talented guys like him. Not just the ones in New York, but universities all over the country!
Isaiah nods at Toby's comforting words. "Thanks Bro." He says, giving Toby one of those fun hand shakes the cool kids do. "Oh and Toby?"
"What's up man?" Toby replies, with his regular bright smile.
"Mason's right dude, you look like you hang out with those skater kids that chill behind the school." Isaiah jokes. Toby frowns at his shot. Isaiah and I laugh in unison and even share a cool handshake of our own.
"Jerks..." Toby whispers. It's obvious he makes sure it's loud enough for us to hear. Eventually, our laughs prove to be contagious and Toby joins us in our gleeful moment. We're having so much fun, there's no point in stopping now.
"Yo Isaiah, whose initials do those letters on your jacket stand for, yours or the schools'?" I ask. Toby yells out an animated, "Ha! That's a good one!" He hides his giggle with his hand, and leans towards me.
"Well, I'm not really sure, but I don't see a reason why it can't be both. I mean, Isaiah Wright is all over Isaac Woods High. Might as well name the school after me!" Isaiah says, cool as a cat. All he's missing now are a pair of black sunglasses and a lit cigar that hangs off the edge of his grin.
"Woah! That was pretty smooth." Toby says, leaning towards Isaiah. What is he? A judge for this competition we're having. I smile at the thought. However, I will not go down without a fight. I think back, and reach for a memory to use against, my suave opponent.
"Well Toby, speaking of 'Smooth', our boy Isaiah here used to be the exact opposite of that. Remember?" I say, eyebrows raised at Toby. He looks up at the ceiling and begins to think. Slowly but surely, his usual smile is smacked right back onto his face. He laughs wildly and points at Isaiah. He's practically leaning his back on top of me now, one hand pointed at our dear friend, the other grabbing his stomach.
"Holy crap! I,... I can't breathe! Oh god! I do remember! You were so lame back then! From water boy to high school super star! What a journey!" Toby wheezes out.
Isaiah grabs his chest, right where his heart should be. He smiles at us and says,"Ouch man! You got me there. Phew."
I shrug my shoulders, victorious. What a nice moment. This will definitely stay with Isaiah after he graduates. Toby is enjoying himself as well. He's laughing so hard, his light skinned face has turned into a pinkish hue. In fact, all of the boys have lightened up. They're having their own very special moments. They're bonding. That's one of the reasons why I started doing what I do. Just to have a bunch of people I can call my family. I mean, I have a family but... but this is better... I love all of these guys. I'm glad I can be around people that share my passion.
We're all having such a good time, we completely forget why we came here in the first place. The explosion of noise from the push doors remind us exactly why. Most of us fall silent. Isaiah's million dollar smile has ran from the premises. Toby's usually bubbly atmosphere has changed drastically, as if the boy sitting next to me was a clone with almost no emotion. A tall man in a suit walks in, and the loud inharmonious cries subside behind the doors. The scattered few that continued to talk after the explosion are quiet and still. Eyes directed at the man in the suit. He begins to talk.
"Isaac Woods High All Male, five minutes until music starts."
With that, he makes his swift exit. His footsteps barely audible under the large roar that blows through the room as he leaves. Does he have any idea how easily those words have blown away the tranquil air that emanated from the relaxed moods of my team? I sigh deeply. I'm not a captain without a reason. I rise from my seat and walk towards the spot where the man in the suit stood. I need to be a leader. All eyes are on me now, I can feel them on the back of my head. I scratch my black, loosely trimmed hair, and face them. I knew this part would come. I didn't need to practice for something that is so natural for me. Telling the truth.
"Okay guys, time to focus. We need you to! I need you to! We've been working our asses off for this. We've had guys skip out on job opportunities, guys that had to turn down the girls of their dreams, and guys that have left championship games, homecomings, and concerts, just to have that much more time to practice for this moment right here!," I yell out. I'm the guidance the younger members look for. The push the veterans need. I am their captain. I can't let them down.
"I know that every single one of you will give everything you've got tonight. Those who won't left the team months ago." I breathe deeply, the intensity of this entire situation is almost too much. I look towards the back of the room. Young faces. I wonder who will be taking my place after my time here is up. I continue down the line. Familiar faces that I have grown close to. My family. I reach my side of the room. Smiling faces. Veterans. Most of them will be gone next year, and Isaiah is one of them. My heart sinks down to my stomach. I lower my head and force out an uncomfortable smile.... Tears make my eyes feel heavy,... They make the blue tiles look like ripples on a pond during midnight rainfall. I whisper soft words up and out of my dry throat.
" No matter what happens tonight... never forget who you are. Never forget what we have. Most importantly, never lose your love for dance. It's the language of the body and the soul, and it's what brought us all together. Thank you for being the family I never had. Without each other, we're only single pieces of the puzzle, together, we are Isaac Woods All Male Dance Team. All In, All out."
Everyone rises. My heart will never get used to, stepping up to those doors. My team is as excited as I am. I can almost feel their heartbeats pounding against my back. I push open the doors, ready to face the crowd that awaits.
==================================================================================
Thank you for reading. What do you think if it so far?(:
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
(Scarred Hearts and Hopeless Dreamers)
Prologue:
1. Finish.
They're calling for us. I can feel it underneath my skin. We all can. The roars bounce off each individual locker, eventually finding its way into our ears. Some react to it like it was only a whisper from a non-existent wind, shaking it off as they wait to charge through the gates, straight into the fray. Veterans. Others make it look like the noise is an actual beast, standing right behind them, sending puffs of wicked steam down their spines. I don't blame them. I used to conjure up weird explanations as to why I felt the way I did. Maybe I was scared. The fact that one simple mistake will bring down the wrath of not only my enemies, but even those who fight by my side. It's a horrifying thought. Maybe I was nervous. No amount of practice can make you ready enough. You have to be willing to lose before even considering a victory. A lesson needed to be learned by everyone going through what we will in a few minutes. A lesson I was forced to learn. However, that was almost 2 years ago. Today is different. I'm a junior now. My skills have grown into a level of its own. Surpassing expectations one would have for someone my age. My mindset and the ways I react to these situations, have matured through the rough experiences I put myself through. In the end, it was worth it. The team that used to have me in the back, making me only noticeable to myself, is now mine. Tonight, I will lead them into battle.
My team sits on metal benches, waiting for the ominous growl that looms overhead to explode into an ear splitting discord. When it does, it would mean that we would have five more minutes until the inevitable. I study the small square tiles under my feet. It's painted with a bright color design that makes my team look like we're hanging out in an elegant bathroom. Normally, the blue tiles would look out of place in a locker room, but the blue, freshly painted lockers actually make it work. The entire color scheme probably gives out a relaxing atmosphere for the athletes and students that come in here after an intense workout. Pretty thoughtful for a high school. In fact, the only thing that looks out of place are the bodies sitting on metal benches dressed in different shades of red and white.
I breathe in the locker room air, taking in the delicate scent of lavender, and close my eyes as I lean my head back on the locker behind me. Might as well try to relax before my heart rate goes through the roof in a few moments. My thoughts begin to rewind through hours of practice sessions with my team. My body gradually begins to move to a silent rhythm. It seems like it has a mind of its own, but this only assures me that the time spent working, was time that was well spent.
A soft elbow nudges at my side. I turn to my left, meeting the curious gaze of a seventeen year old's brown eyes. A familiar face that I've seen at my birthday celebrations, my first through eleventh grade classes, and at times when I needed someone just to be there. After all these years, his face still looks he has stopped growing at age twelve. Blonde hair that peeks out under a red beanie, rest on his light skinned forehead. He reaches up to the red fuzz ball on top of his hat and adjusts it. He looks like a skater boy. Thin smiling lips begin to move and a soft voice lets out afterwards.
"Mason, are you having a seizure?" he asks.
I shake my head and my own smile forms on my tan face.
"Nah, just trying to relax. Hey, Where's your skateboard at?" I joke, flicking his little fuzz ball. It barely moves.
He snickers brightly at my joke. He crosses his arms and leans back on the locker. I join him and lean back as well. He shakes his head and starts to move his hands in an explaining motion.
"Hey, this beanie suits me," he begins, his voice quickly becoming louder and louder "Besides! Skaters can't flip around the way I do!" He shouts, jerking his thumb into his chest. His statement is full of confidence, and with good reason. He can back up his words with front flips, back flips, corkscrews, and other crazy stuff that can easily have a crowd of strangers in awe.
At this point, his voice attracts the attention of plenty other boys who share this side of the locker room with us. One boy in particular, stood out from the rest. I knew him, but then again, I knew everyone on this team. He stood out because he places my friend's shoulder into a death grip with his olive palms. I smile.
"Toby. Shut. Up." He warns. He sounds like a bear that has recently woken up from hibernation.
Toby's baby face winces with fear, instantly aging by five years. He slowly turns to his attacker. His body looks so tense that I actually start to listen for it to creak like the floorboards of an abandoned home. Toby is eye to eye with him now. Both faces with opposite expressions. My smile begins to let out a chuckle. The boys around me are visibly worrying for Toby. Their faces make me cover my mouth, as I try to suppress my laughter.
Suddenly, Toby breaks the stalemate with a shove at the attacker's chest. He bumps back into the boy next to him and starts a chain reaction. I see it reach the very end of the bench as a boy slides of his seat, causing another chain of laughter from that side of the room. The boys around us sigh softly to themselves and continue their own conversations.
Toby calms down, restoring five years back into his face. Adjusting the sleeves of his light red cardigan, he fixes his collar and shakes his head.
"Freakin' Isaiah! I swear dude! You're always messing with me! I'm not a freshman anymore man!"
Isaiah shrugs. His shoulders being cloaked by an expensive looking red Letterman jacket. The letters "I" and "W" are stitched onto the breast of the jacket in white cloth, and again on the right white sleeve but in red. His black pants fit nicely around his legs, the cuffs meeting the top of cool looking red shoes that tap lightly on the blue tiles. They definitely look like they cost much more than Toby's red shoes, even if they are identical. Toby's black pants are not as tight as Isaiah's or mines. I figured, he needs the space for flipping around, otherwise, it's just a major wardrobe malfunction waiting to happen.
"Sorry Toby, I guess I just miss those good old days!" Isaiah says with a grin, his white teeth peaking out in between thick lips. "I'm leaving this year so... I'm trying to make it memorable you know?" he says, with his million dollar smile. His facade can't hide the faint sadness behind his voice. He leans forward, elbows resting at his bent knees.
I am not the only one who notices the tone. Toby places a hand on Isaiah's shoulder.
"Don't worry about to much buddy! We'll still keep in touch. Me, Mason, and the rest of the dudes here will miss you! And... if you're going to miss the school life, that wouldn't be a problem. You've got more scholarships than I have pores." Toby says. His exaggeration isn't far from the truth. Isaiah's one talented guy, and colleges look for talented guys like him. Not just the ones in New York, but universities all over the country!
Isaiah nods at Toby's comforting words. "Thanks Bro." He says, giving Toby one of those fun hand shakes the cool kids do. "Oh and Toby?"
"What's up man?" Toby replies, with his regular bright smile.
"Mason's right dude, you look like you hang out with those skater kids that chill behind the school." Isaiah jokes. Toby frowns at his shot. Isaiah and I laugh in unison and even share a cool handshake of our own.
"Jerks..." Toby whispers. It's obvious he makes sure it's loud enough for us to hear. Eventually, our laughs prove to be contagious and Toby joins us in our gleeful moment. We're having so much fun, there's no point in stopping now.
"Yo Isaiah, whose initials do those letters on your jacket stand for, yours or the schools'?" I ask. Toby yells out an animated, "Ha! That's a good one!" He hides his giggle with his hand, and leans towards me.
"Well, I'm not really sure, but I don't see a reason why it can't be both. I mean, Isaiah Wright is all over Isaac Woods High. Might as well name the school after me!" Isaiah says, cool as a cat. All he's missing now are a pair of black sunglasses and a lit cigar that hangs off the edge of his grin.
"Woah! That was pretty smooth." Toby says, leaning towards Isaiah. What is he? A judge for this competition we're having. I smile at the thought. However, I will not go down without a fight. I think back, and reach for a memory to use against, my suave opponent.
"Well Toby, speaking of 'Smooth', our boy Isaiah here used to be the exact opposite of that. Remember?" I say, eyebrows raised at Toby. He looks up at the ceiling and begins to think. Slowly but surely, his usual smile is smacked right back onto his face. He laughs wildly and points at Isaiah. He's practically leaning his back on top of me now, one hand pointed at our dear friend, the other grabbing his stomach.
"Holy crap! I,... I can't breathe! Oh god! I do remember! You were so lame back then! From water boy to high school super star! What a journey!" Toby wheezes out.
Isaiah grabs his chest, right where his heart should be. He smiles at us and says,"Ouch man! You got me there. Phew."
I shrug my shoulders, victorious. What a nice moment. This will definitely stay with Isaiah after he graduates. Toby is enjoying himself as well. He's laughing so hard, his light skinned face has turned into a pinkish hue. In fact, all of the boys have lightened up. They're having their own very special moments. They're bonding. That's one of the reasons why I started doing what I do. Just to have a bunch of people I can call my family. I mean, I have a family but... but this is better... I love all of these guys. I'm glad I can be around people that share my passion.
We're all having such a good time, we completely forget why we came here in the first place. The explosion of noise from the push doors remind us exactly why. Most of us fall silent. Isaiah's million dollar smile has ran from the premises. Toby's usually bubbly atmosphere has changed drastically, as if the boy sitting next to me was a clone with almost no emotion. A tall man in a suit walks in, and the loud inharmonious cries subside behind the doors. The scattered few that continued to talk after the explosion are quiet and still. Eyes directed at the man in the suit. He begins to talk.
"Isaac Woods High All Male, five minutes until music starts."
With that, he makes his swift exit. His footsteps barely audible under the large roar that blows through the room as he leaves. Does he have any idea how easily those words have blown away the tranquil air that emanated from the relaxed moods of my team? I sigh deeply. I'm not a captain without a reason. I rise from my seat and walk towards the spot where the man in the suit stood. I need to be a leader. All eyes are on me now, I can feel them on the back of my head. I scratch my black, loosely trimmed hair, and face them. I knew this part would come. I didn't need to practice for something that is so natural for me. Telling the truth.
"Okay guys, time to focus. We need you to! I need you to! We've been working our asses off for this. We've had guys skip out on job opportunities, guys that had to turn down the girls of their dreams, and guys that have left championship games, homecomings, and concerts, just to have that much more time to practice for this moment right here!," I yell out. I'm the guidance the younger members look for. The push the veterans need. I am their captain. I can't let them down.
"I know that every single one of you will give everything you've got tonight. Those who won't left the team months ago." I breathe deeply, the intensity of this entire situation is almost too much. I look towards the back of the room. Young faces. I wonder who will be taking my place after my time here is up. I continue down the line. Familiar faces that I have grown close to. My family. I reach my side of the room. Smiling faces. Veterans. Most of them will be gone next year, and Isaiah is one of them. My heart sinks down to my stomach. I lower my head and force out an uncomfortable smile.... Tears make my eyes feel heavy,... They make the blue tiles look like ripples on a pond during midnight rainfall. I whisper soft words up and out of my dry throat.
" No matter what happens tonight... never forget who you are. Never forget what we have. Most importantly, never lose your love for dance. It's the language of the body and the soul, and it's what brought us all together. Thank you for being the family I never had. Without each other, we're only single pieces of the puzzle, together, we are Isaac Woods All Male Dance Team. All In, All out."
Everyone rises. My heart will never get used to, stepping up to those doors. My team is as excited as I am. I can almost feel their heartbeats pounding against my back. I push open the doors, ready to face the crowd that awaits.
==================================================================================
Thank you for reading. What do you think if it so far?(: