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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/990781-You-cant-break-the-broken
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Other · #990781
just another short burst of writing, not really sure what genre to put it in.
“Sex, drugs and rock and roll!” She spits at you

“What the fuck?” you nonchalantly twiddled your finger through a stray strand of hair, obstructing your vision of her.

“That’s all it was to you, Doug. That’s all I was to you. I just got swept up in your little rock star fantasy.” She's on the verge of yelling, but not quite there yet.

“Shh baby” you half arsed attempted to mellow her out and rest a limp arm on her skinny shoulders.

“Don’t baby me!” She snatches your hand away from her, mimicking the way you say baby.

“I'm not gonna let you wrap me around your little finger anymore.” She goes to storm out of your flat, she’s at the door, she’s nearly free, free from you, but then, you pull her back in with your words, the way only you know how.

“You’ll be back” You snarl. She freezes at your words but doesn’t turn to face you, not just yet.

“Admit it! You can't break away from me. You wanted this as much as I do.” You’ve managed to creep up behind her. You slide a hand around her waist and you breath into her neck, another weakness of hers that you so often manipulate to get your own way.

“Doug?” She whispers softly. You gently nuzzle your head into the dip in her neck and mumble ‘yeah’.

“Go fuck yourself!” She elbows you in the chest and you fold away from her.

“What the fuck was that for?” You manage to stutter out, you glare up at her though the fringe of your hair.

“What’d you think I was genna do, let you kiss me and convince me everything’s alright?” She goes to bolt out the door again, but is halted by you slamming the flat of your hand against it, the noise as the door collided with the frame echoed through the near desolate apartment. She raises her hand, plans on slapping you, but you quickly grasp her wrist. She struggles to get free, but you pin her hand down to her waist and hold it there, until you feel shes stopped squirming. You grin like a Cheshire cat, so much that you don’t even see it coming. You weren’t so lucky this time. You put your hand to your face, you swear you can feel the indent of every finger, including the ring she wears on that hand. You think for a second, you would have been better off letting her hit you with the hand you still have restrained, at least that one was ring-less. She finally rids herself of your grip and bounds across the other side of the room.

“Look, you can choose to accept it or not, but what ever, we’re still not genna be together.”
You raise an eyebrow and the corners of your lips pull upwards.

“I’m not fucking around” she insists.

“Ive told you before, you wont leave me, you cant. You, my dear, are spell bound.” You crudely wink at her.

“That’s just it! I was bound by the magic. I saw you and it was my chance, to boost my career, to screw a drummer in a famous rock band. Show me one fucking person who wouldn’t jump at the chance. Yeah, I used you, but no more then you did me.” She turns away from you.

“Well, then what’s changed?” You asked softly, but only because you cant be bothered to argue properly.

“I ….I fell for you, I couldn’t just have that lifestyle. I needed more. When we first got together, I thought I could cope with the whole no strings attached thing, but now…….. now im not to sure.” You do it again, you creep up on her, but this time much more cautiously, once bitten, twice shy. You stand slightly off side so any punches she may happen to throw could be easily side stepped.

“What are you doing?” she asked exhausted, from what, your not sure.

“What we do best.” You trail kisses down her collarbone.

“NO!” she exclaims. You wrap your arms tight around her but she wriggles free.

“I was trapped in a dream I used to want, but now I’ve broken free” you sigh and roll your eyes at her.

“Cut the crap.” You mumble under your breath.

“It’s stuff like that, which makes you the arsehole you are! And it may seem great now, all part of the obnoxious rock star persona you try so hard to fill, but you will eventually end up empty and soulless.”

“Just…… just fuck off!” you snap at her, flinging a hand in the direction of the door. She does as you asked. You stand there and wonder, letting your thoughts fill your head, which you know is never a good idea. Because you also know that if your left long enough by yourself, and to your own devises, you will eventually realise that you hate who you’ve become just as much as she does, and you will have to subside to the fact that she is right. Well, there is one thing she wasn’t quite right about, and that is she told you ‘you will eventually end up empty and soulless’ when you know the sad truth is, you already are. Its been staring at you straight in the face for years, but you just never wanted to open your eyes. You sold your soul a long time ago, but the worst thing is you never even noticed it was gone, until now. You mull over what she had said to you, usually you don’t pay any attention to what she says, or to what anybody says for that matter, not unless it concerns you directly. But this time, when your sure you weren’t listening, you seem to remember every word. And again, you are forced to agree with the fact that she is indeed right, it was just sex drugs and rock and roll. What a cliché, you think to yourself. But somewhere along the time from where you started off in this industry, so full of life, hungry for knowledge and experience, to now, you realised you erased one of the key ingredients for that important cliché. The rock and roll. The music. The one thing you claim to truly love and couldn’t live with out, is the one thing that, recently, is furthest from your mind. It is no longer sex drugs and rock and roll, now its just sex drugs and alcohol. Your personal poison.
Fast sex, hard drugs, cheap alcohol.
Cheap sex, fast drugs, hard alcohol
It doesn’t matter what way round you put it, they’re just as meaningless, just as pathetic as each other and just all your life is. You don’t know if you should laugh or cry at your new found revelation. You do neither. You feel broken. She’s broken you. Bitch!. She dragged you down to her level, pulled at the fine points of your star until you shined no more. You wonder towards your bathroom, trying to locate a packet of asprin for a headache you only just realises you have. You catch a fleeting glimpse of yourself in the mirror above the sink. Graying lines around your eyes, outlining the heavy bags, your limp hair lays lifelessly on your scalp, the once sparkle in your eyes is now dead, and its because of her. Or is it? Your ponder, with your head down and eyes fixed on the plug hole in the sink. You try to recall ever feeling like this, feeling so empty, so useless. You cant, but then you stumble across a lost memory, one when you felt like this. One before you intoxicated your body with any thing you could find. Maybe it was the other way around? Maybe you took the shine out of her star? Maybe you blunted her points?. Maybe you were broken before she even reached you. So really she did you no damage, after all, you cant break the broken.


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