paint the mirrors black

Onderwerp: paint the mirrors black do jan 12, 2017 11:34 pm

나를 구해줘

Boy, had I missed this room! This room, where I could let out my frustrations, my pain, my happiness. Where I could be me in the comfort of music and movements. It was also this room, which I hadn't been able to visit for almost the past two weeks. The first week I had been busy and I dare say it was of great importance. I had been cleaning my room, as one does, and had found my old Tamagotchi on the bottom of one of my drawers. Of course, this sparked a short obsession with the pink thing and I was working extremely hard to keep my baby Melodytchi alive and happy!

That was when the second week of my absence had started and I went into heat. Of course I did. Melodytchi far from my mind, I spend the next week trying my best at easing the discomfort I felt coiling in my lower abdomen. Naturally I had (maybe not so) kindly shown Isak the door before locking myself inside the bedroom. If I recall correctly, that was probably one of the last moments I was actually coherent enough to make comprehensible sentences, before falling to the monster called heat. I shouldn't even have to say this, but obviously, by the time I had recovered from my heat, Melodytchi had, sadly, passed away.

After opening the wooden door, I searched with my right hand for the light switch, flipping it on, the TL lights soon flickering to life. By all means, the room wasn't big, not nearly as big as most dance studios, but it did the job just fine. When the lights stopped flickering and I looked ahead, I was greeted by the image of a tired looking boy. Blue bags under his small eyes and his brown hair messy. He was wearing white shorts and a baggy black zip-up hoodie, way too big for his slight frame. It almost looked like he was swimming in it, drowning even. For a few solid seconds, I just stared at the boy. Then I blinked, and the boy copied. I took a step forward and the tired boy in the mirror did as well. I sighed, the smallest of smiles gracing my lips, before I averted my eyes and walked over the stereo in the back corner. I plugged in my phone and tapped on a random song. When I turned back around, music filled the room and like a bird belonging in the sky and a fish in the water, my body started moving.

I may have danced for minutes, I may danced for hours. My muscles felt sore and my body felt sticky with sweat. But my brain was empty of thoughts and my face was free of troubles and instead spoke volumes of calm. For the slightest of a second I dared a look in the mirror as I made to twirl and my heart stopped and I fell. Quickly I scramble to a stand, my hand wringing the hem of my hoodie, eyes downcast. There, in the doorway, stood a tall and broad man. How long had he been there? Had he been watching? Why did I not hear the door open? Did I close it in the first place? Then, over the loud thumping sound in my ears, I hear my music still playing. Carefully, like a cat, I make myself even smaller than I already am and slowly shuffle my way towards the stereo, never turning my back towards the man. I do not dare look up at the invader, fear coursing through my veins, sending a chill down my spine. Blindly I manage to pause the music on my phone, quickly unplugging the device hereafter. The only thing on my mind currently is the screaming warning to leave. Get out of here. But... The stranger still stands in the doorway, the only entrance and exit to the room. Nervously I continue fidgeting with the hem of my hoodie. I notice I'm panting, somewhat gasping for air. Whether this is because I've been dancing for a good while without stopping or if this is the sign of an upcoming panic attack I do not know. In my head, I wish and urge the man to make a move. I need to move. Need to leave this room that, right now, is suffocating me.

Onderwerp: Re: paint the mirrors black do jan 19, 2017 10:59 pm

realized that I have got one

less problem without you

Time may take us, take us far away
Surely time, time can bring us back together

It is a little past noon, her highness the sun is already burning brightly at her highest; scorching her light and warmth onto the jittery pile of humans that crawl king earth. Brian, a 189 year old Asian American, is idly staring at the small lonely brush at the edge of the courtyard. Its bright green leaves stood out compared to its gloomy grey-themed backdrop. Somehow Brian finds himself relating to the bright green bush; different, lonely and separated from others. It had already been quite some time since he 'outed' himself to his parents, yet he still can't forget their verbal and physical reactions. His mom had smiled a bit feverishly, her body went rigid and she hadn't met Brian's gaze afterwards. She was clearly in shock, which actually kind of surprised Brian as he thought, what he was telling, was already quite obvious. Whatever she must have thought right then and there, she made a good effort trying to hide it from him; for which he was thankful. Brian simply opted to simply 'not' think about what hurtful things had been going through her mind then. Brian's father, your real prototype Asian, was in less of shock but went straight into a frenzied state. Brian received a slap across his cheek and some Korean curse words from his dear papa. His father possibly disowned him multiple times in those few minutes and kept on asking Brian if he was sure, if this wasn't just a temporary thing. Not to his father's delight, Brian had to refute that statement telling his dad that this was a forever thing, which resulted in another blow. 'I didn't raise you to go and play with guys' butts.' is the sentence that Brian remembers best and which cracks him up each time he goes through that memory. Brian sighs, still watching the green leafed bush which was getting harassed by a strong gust of torrid wind. Just an hour until the forthcoming downpour of the day, Brian thinks bitterly. The storm will pass later tonight though, just as the anger of his family had eventually passed.

Brian gets up after hearing the first of many lightning crackles. He leisurely stretches his upper body and takes a few swaying steps before he stops again, yawning and rubbing his sunken face. Brian looks back at what has been his spot for over an hour and checks if he hadn't forgotten anything, before he walks away. One thing he had immediately noticed after coming here was that one shouldn't leave stuff laying about, because there were lots of kiddies with kleptomaniac-like features living here. Brian flashes a smile at his own silly thought and continues his way to the dark wooden, possibly walnut, staircases that led to the bedrooms. As he is climbing the stairs his Achilles tendon plays up a little, but Brian mercilessly keeps on climbing at the same high pace. It is an old, yet painful, injury which he acquired after overexerting himself running. The thought of 'taking it easy today' briefly flashes through his mind as he reaches the top of the stairs, debating whether to train today or not. His body or his heart, however, automatically moves to his bedroom where he starts undressing himself, replacing his casual clothes for sportswear. It seems like there wasn't much of a debate to start with. As is with all; what the heart wants, the heart gets.

In good spirit Brian skips down the stairs to the first floor where the mirror room was hidden behind two Red Velvet curtains and a maple coloured wooden door. Without thinking Twice about it, Brian pushes the curtains aside and pushes the, already slightly opened, door further open. Brian immediately notices a sad melody playing once he's inside, and also another guy who seems to be dancing his heart out. A contemporary dance, to be exact, a genre that Brian also practices. The mahogany brown haired guy did a pirouette after which he did some ground elements. Brian just stood there, half in the doorway, staring at the other's skilful dancing. Truth be told, he was probably just as good as he himself was, which he found hard to admit. A bright smile has crept on Brian's lip while watching the boy express his emotions in dance. It wasn't hard to pick up some emotions as he went through different techniques. It was amazing. The guy was truly... dazzling.

A few minutes past after which the guy, who had been dancing his heart out, seemed to suddenly notice that he was being looked upon. Brian, still a little in trance, doesn't immediately take his gaze off of the boy which, to his own opinion, seems to startle the guy. Without much sound the guy stops dancing, kills the music and crawls into a corner eyeing Brian with a look that seems like fear. The sportsbag that Brian had been holding slips through his fingers, falling to the ground with a thud. Brian claps a few times and smiles at the boy. "Cool" He compliments him in a plain fashion. "You are very good." He adds. He holds his hands up in an innocent fashion. "I promise I will not eat you." he says seriously even though he was kind of joking. After those words Brian shuts it and just walks over, dragging his bag with him. He folds his hands inside his pants pockets and just plainly stares at him. Whatever the other guy was going through, it sure as hell wasn't relaxation. Eventually Brian shrugs his shoulders and gets about doing his own thing; stretching; preparing his body for the bootcamp training that was about to ensue. "You may continue. I won't disturb." Brian says in his rich bass voice, not even looking at him. He didn't have to. The guy was still twirling in his thoughts, enchanting him with only his dancing.

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Onderwerp: Re: paint the mirrors black ma jan 30, 2017 2:12 am

나를 구해줘

My fingers now playing with a loose thread at the hem of my hoodie, I jump a little at the sudden sound of something dropping on the floor. From the corners of my eyes I can tell it's a bag, which the blond man had been holding only seconds before. My breathing still rather abnormal, I can't help but sneakily glance up a bit when I hear the only other occupant in the room starting to clap. He was clapping? Why? An answer to my question follows quickly hereafter and a crimson blush quickly spreads across my somewhat chubby cheeks. Surely, the other was lying. He couldn't possibly mean his words, could he? Now, by no means do I think I'm bad or anything when it comes to dancing. In fact, I consider myself to be rather good, especially contemporary dance. But history has taught me to be careful and compliments could be nothing more than empty words. Words used for ulterior motives, maybe.

Don't get me wrong. I don't want to think like this. When I feel safe and comfy and I can think clearly and with a reasonable mind, I understand people can actually be nice, but... Unfortunately, fear and submissiveness often clouds my brain from thinking straight.

I want to laugh about his remark on him not eating me, but as it is, my eyes quickly dart to the floor, like it is the most interesting of things, to avoid his look, as I softly nibble on my plump bottom lip. The blond makes his way across the room, dragging his bag with him. I stand still as if frozen, my heart racing and my breathing once again picking up. For a second I contemplate making a B line out of the room, but it's as if I'm rooted to the spot. I turn ever so slighty to where the man his voice resonates from, never daring to turn my back to the man.

After a few seconds I dare another quick look. The blond man is doing stretches, looking relaxed and frankly... well, non predatory. For a few solid seconds it's quiet in the room. My breathing has somewhat evened out, as the blond keeps stretching. I get startled a bit and manage to pull the loose string off my hoodie, when the voice of the man suddenly once again resounds through the room. His words confuse me. I could stay and continue? Was that save? He wouldn't disturb me? Was he speaking the truth?

Carefully, I look up at him, shy and cheeks dusted a light pink, my ears surely the same. The man's eyes are turned away from me as he leisurely continues to stretch his long legs and arms. He is muscular, as I've noticed before, but not overly so. Tall and broad and slightly intimidating and handsome, honestly. I shake my head as I start nibbling on my lower lip again, wondering what I should do. I fiddle around with the phone still in my hands. Do I dare?

Ever so slowly, not leaving the man out of my sight for even the smallest of seconds, I take a step back towards the stereo. I can do this. Finally, I turn my back to the man, before once again plugging my phone into the stereo. For a few seconds, I scroll through my playlist, unease coursing through my body. Then I tap a song. Softly, the piano version of Save Me comes thumping through the speakers. I put the phone down and spare another quick glance at the man. Then I walk towards the mirrors, deciding and trying to pay the man no heat. I close my eyes and ever so careful and a bit unsure I start moving to the music again, hoping against hope that the man will keep his word.

Onderwerp: Re: paint the mirrors black ma feb 27, 2017 9:49 pm

realized that I have got one

less problem without you

Time may take us, take us far away
Surely time, time can bring us back together

Everything that happened thus far today was ordinary. The weather was ordinary, his sleep was ordinay, breakfast was ordinary and the people were ordinary as well. Day by day, nothing seemed out of sorts here, safely, inside the loop. There was, however, one thing that made today special, something that hadn't been ordinary today. It was his current company of sorts. The petite boy with dark, ebony, hair that was now sweaty, strands of his bangs wet and sticking to his forehead. In mere seconds the boy had caught Brian's attention with his contemporary dance which was very pleasing to young Brian's eye. He was talented, even a child could see that. Talented he may be, but with such an introverted personality the boy wouldn't get very far. The boy lacked guts.

The way the boy's cheeks had coloured when Brian had complimented him didn't go unnoticed. Maybe this boy wasn't aware of his natural talent? The dark haired boy seemed quite taken aback after all, his wide eyes and flared nostrils were prove of that. As Brian was crossing the room, he couldn't help but notice the boy nibbling on his lower lip which sent a strange feeling down his spine. Brian hated it when people were gnawing their lips. He simply couldn't suppress the slight excitement that the sight gave him. Somehow, in the middle of this awkward meeting, he could imagine himself biting the other's lip. The same lip he was so nervously nibbling on. Brian forces his gaze away however, this wasn't the right place nor the right moment nor possibly the right person.

Brian ignores the other boy in the room for a few minutes as the aforementioned was apparently contemplating what to do with his life. Frankly, Brian didn't really care. He could stay or he could go. Both were fine as long as he didn't get in his way. The practice room was big enough to share and honestly he wouldn't mind seeing the boy twirling again. To the contrary, he hoped he would do it again, but not for the reasons one might guess.

The other's decision soon became clear as music started playing again. Something familiar about this tune... He had heard it before, yet the name of the song and its composer eluded him. From the corner of his eye Brian can see the other moving to the music, apparently in his own little world. Brian openly watches him from afar while he stretches limb for limb. He should point his foot more and his back should be just a tad straighter; is what Brian is thinking as he watches him. As for emotion... he was too immersed at times. Every fibre of this boy's dancing screamed he was used to dancing his contemporary solo. His movements were too inconsistent for another being able to follow. But he could try, couldn't he? Brian was up for the challenge.

Brian moves towards the mirrors himself and starts to mimic the other's movements, one by one. As is common in contemporary, it was full of ballet and other styles. Here and there Brian would alter the other's routine or would mirror his spins and turns. It was as if they were dancing together, yet they weren't. Even though he couldn't feel the other, he felt him on emotional terms. It was truly... a sad yet exciting feeling, to share such heavy emotions. "Point more." he suddenly commented on the other's dancing while turning himself. "Keep your body relaxed; move lighter; keep balance; stop hollowing your back;" were all comments that Brian blurted out at moments. Brian wasn't perfect himself, not by far, but something inside of him wanted to push the other to his maximum.

A small smile crept on Brian's lips as the other makes another spin. Without a word of warning Brian jumps in front of the guy catching him as he finishes his spin. "Breathe" He tells him softly, a soft smile on his lips. The contact between the two men doesn't last as Brian pushes the other away again, himself spinning to the side and ending on the floor; eventually leaving the mirror side entirely. Brian sluggishly walks to his bag, grabbing his water bottle to drink. After taking a few sips he turns towards the dark haired boy again; "You want some?" he asks, holding the water battle out towards him. "You're not half bad. Did you ever compete?" Brian asked, again severing eye contact with this lip biting deer-eyed boy.

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