| get your back up off the wall! |
[Thursday November 26, 9pm] |
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reinventing this guy. under major construction. =D
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| History |
[Sunday June 15, 10pm] |
![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) westbeach
If you're gonna stab me, you minds well do it in the front ..
He liked the burn most of all. The way it churned in his stomach and made him gasp for his next breath. He liked the color of it, especially when he sat a bar with a smirk on his face, remembering that her first words to him were " My mother told me men who drink whiskey beat their wives. " He ain't exactly beat her, but he might have well have after it was all said and done.
That's for the suckers, though. This right here is about a man with a past. The same kind of past as a lot of men. California was for beautiful people, and by god that's what his folks were. Mom was from the bible belt, and brought along her strict beliefs and tendency to slap. Dad however was more easy like, easy enough to slip inside of anything that was young and tight and didn't ask too many questions ( hey, aren't you married? ). And from those two mistakes was born a kid by the name of Charlie.
He was a short, wiry, skinny kid. The kind the bigger kids shoved around because he hadn't grown into himself yet, and was more into reading comic books and playing his guitar than wrestling or football. He had his father's easy demeanor and was constantly told that he didn't take anything seriously. So when he barely made it out of high school, he took what little savings his mother had and blew it on three failed semesters at UCLA.
Back home, broke, and beaten down. He picked up his guitar and started singing songs written for long-haired girls from exotic countries he'd never met. He had a deep, rumbling, bass-like voice. A voice built for blues, and quickly learned that his awkward adolescence had transformed him into a ruggedly handsome man with a permanent five o clock shadow. The kind of man in dark bars singing songs about love, hate, and life. This carried him, along with a day time gig in construction for years.
He met her at 27, when his eyes were still green and hadn't faded to the grey they were most days. He was making pretty decent money selling and singing his songs and doing construction. She was a school teacher who had lived in Santa Barbara her whole life. He vaguely remembered wondering why he waited until now to meet her. She was beautiful, and inspired the one hit song that still plays on the radio today. Performed by a two-hit wonder, but he couldn't complain about the guy. After all, he was still getting royalty checks. They fell in love, and he fell in despair. Started drinking too much and never working. Always with the promises and excuses. She wanted a baby and was scared he'd never put himself together long enough to help her out. How could you depend on a man that held himself to no responsibility? It would never work out.
But she stood there, because they'd promised each other that day before a justice of the peace, and she wore her dead mother's ring. For better or for worse. Worse came when she woke up one day at 32 and realized she was alone except for her man child of a husband. When the last attempt at rehab had failed, and she couldn't stand to look at him anymore, she left. Now that broken man had a real reason to write sad songs.
It was two years later and he had dropped the bottle. Went back to work but still lived with those demons that crawled in bed with him every night. He hated being sober because it made him realize how lonely life was. And he hated being drunk because it made him realize how lonely life was. Now he spent his days working construction with kids young enough to be his sons. Rebuilding the life he should have had in the first place.
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