i live to let you shine, two

CHAPTER TWO – Mattias
The cab dropped us off at the nearest motel. It looked pretty decent, and it was only a block away from the venue. At least it wasn’t messy, full of graffiti or anything like that. Since I was the lead singer and pianist of our group, I was usually the one to register or check in at motels or hotels. The guys either didn’t want to speak because they didn’t want to experience another “What did you say?” moment because of their accents, or were just too lazy to speak politely. I walked to the front office while the band hung outside the room. “Excuse me, miss?”

She was busy writing something down, but she had looked up right away. “Can I help you?” She said this fast, and then slow. I think it was because of my accent. Or maybe my looks, who knows which of the two. Maybe even both. Now I’m not trying to boast or be conceited but I can sometimes have this affect on people. However, this rarely happens when I’m in England. There’s something that American girls, I suppose, like about British boys.

“Is there a room I can perhaps check in to?” I asked in my most polite tone. “Um,” she rustled through her papers before answering me, “yes. Room Fourteen should be available by now. The guest should have already headed out, so you may have that room.”
“Thank you. Do you have the key?”
“Yes, I do.” She spun her chair around to the corkboard that had only a few keys hanging. She took the one with the big fourteen on it and handed it over to me with a smile. “Here you go. Enjoy your stay.”
“I will. Thank you.” I said, smiling back at her and heading out to meet the band.

“Dude, what room?” Tristan, our drummer, asked.
“Fourteen.” I said, passing him and heading down the pavement to find room fourteen. It was on the ground level and it wasn’t that hard to find. Fourteen is quite a close number to the office compared to something like thirty-two. The guys followed and within minutes, we found the door with the number fourteen on it. I stuck the key in the door, but Jonah, our bassist, knocked my hand away.
“Maybe it’s open, mate. I think it is, because look,” he pointed to the window with drowsy white curtains hanging, “a girl’s heading out.” Jonah had his thick Australian accent, and never bothered to use his American accent. He hated when people would ask him what he was saying. He thought it was disrespectful and rude, and he also thought that people should clean their ears. By now, I’ve gotten used to it as the rest have gotten used to mine. To be honest, accents aren’t hard to understand.

I waited, standing my ground in front of the door. It didn’t take long until the door swung open away from me and a young, slender girl knocked right into me. She was about ready to fall on her bottom but I caught her from her back just in time. She looked confused, and she had bed hair. She looked like she had just gotten out of bed and didn’t bother to brush or make herself look presentable. Not that she wasn’t pretty, she was. She stood just below my chin and her hair was wavy, ending just past her shoulder blades. She was wearing a floral skirt with a loose shirt, and had a sling bag across her shoulder. She blinked a couple times, but I didn’t wait for her to speak first.

“Sorry to be bugging you at such an early time.” I apologized, feeling bad that I almost knocked her down. I thought that would have been enough to wake her up.

“Oh, um, no. It’s okay. I’m sorry for having bumped into you.” Her low, soft voice said. She seemed dreary and groggy, but her eyes were stationed on me. I could see her taking the time to look where her eye level was – my neck and chest – and then she made her way up to meet contact with my eyes. She stared at them for a while, but I decided to break the short silence.

“I’m guessing you’re heading out now?” I smiled lightly, to avoid any awkwardness, but it only lasted a short half second or so.

“Yeah, that I am. I’m sorry, again.” She almost whispered. I nearly did not hear her, and to be honest, at first I heard something like: “Ha-ham. Sore eye, gun.” But I was smart enough to know that it wasn’t what she had said.

She rushed out of the room quick that I could feel the lightest breeze against my skin when she passed, and I smelled her scent, and she smelled like marijuana, surprisingly. I began to wonder if she had done the drug inside the room.

I watched her walk out, or rather run out and onto the sidewalk. She stopped once she had reached it and looked as if she was panting. I saw her shake her head before she turned around. We met eyes again, but she broke the contact and continued walking quickly along. I continued to stare, watching until a building had covered her figure, and I shrugged lightly to myself. “What an odd girl.”

I walked into the room where my band had already put down their stuff. I placed my guitar down as well and slouched over on the couch. “How many people do you think will be there tomorrow?” I asked the group.

“It’s not a huge venue, Matt.” Adam, our lead guitarist, responded.
“That’s true.” Jonah added.
I thought about it for a second. “So? It’s bigger than our usual venues.”
“I guess that’s true.” Tristan joined.

“So anyway, what about that girl?” Jonah asked me.
“Um,” I looked at him, confused, “what about that girl?”
“Oh nothing, just wondering if anything went on, you know.” He said, shrugging.
I answered sarcastically. “Surely.”

“You know, there’s always one girl you hook up with whenever we play a new show.” Tristan added. “It’s crazy, playboy.”

“Maybe you’re just jealous.” I laughed at him. “Adam does it all the time too. Girls are all over the guy.”

“You know me. You’re all jealous because no girls are running for you guys.” Adam chuckled.
“You wish, Adam.” The whole band replied in unison.

We hung out at the motel room for the rest of the afternoon, planning to head out once it reached dark.

i live to let you shine

Just something I started when I was bored last night.

PROLOGUE
His name was Mattias. You would think that another person, who was just like you and did the same things as you, could not ever make you a better person – they would only help enhance your experiences. The experiences that you always wanted to escape. However, if you believe that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, sooner or later, you will reach your destination even if it takes some help from somebody else.

CHAPTER ONE - Analise
Hope was forever lost, and with each step I took, it seemed another mile away. I kept reminding myself that after the night, a new dawn will break, a new beginning. However, this day seemed never ending, as if I wouldn’t ever reach the start of a new day. I heard my shoes scratch the pavement as I walked, groggy. My phone kept on vibrating and ringing and the caller I.D. said it was Julius. I didn’t understand why Julius cared so much. In fact, he was one of the reasons why I decided to pack my things and leave.

As I walked, I passed by numerous hookers trying to get rides at the corners of the streets, druggies smoking up their marijuana in dark alleys and more than one fight that was taken outside of a bar. The sights weren’t pleasant at all, considering that the hookers would give me dirty looks, the druggies would invite me to smoke with them and fights were so obnoxiously loud. I continued to walk and Julius continued to call.

After about twenty minutes of him calling consecutively, my leg was getting extremely tired of feeling the vibration, and my ears were getting bored of hearing the ringing tone. I took it out of my skirt pocket and snapped it open.

“What is it, Julius?!” I screamed into the speaker.
Julius screamed back at me. “Bloody Christ, you’ve finally picked up!” He sounded angry, not the least bit concerned.
“What if I were the one to call you non-stop for twenty minutes, huh?”
“What if?” He questioned back. “Anyway, that is beside the point. The smart move would be to get your dumbass back home, right now.”
“And what has been running through your mind, you idiot? Never on God’s green earth would I consider it. You honestly think I’d do that?”
He was silent for a minute or two. “Yes, I think you actually would.”
“Oh, you’re funny, Julius.” Sarcasm was like my first language. “You want me to get home, but I highly doubt you’d even get up off your lazy ass to come and find me.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“No, I actually wouldn’t. You don’t even care, not even a bit. There’s no use, now is there?”
Again, he was silent for a moment. I started to think that I hit him with a bullet when I had said that he didn’t care until he responded coldly. “You know what, to hell with it.”

I couldn’t even answer to him; he had already hung up on me. I took a deep breath, keeping myself from bursting into rage. Furious, I continued to walk until I had reached a motel. I quickly checked in and exhaustedly let myself fall flat on the bed. At least it was comfortable, unlike my mind which was racing with animosity.

Things hadn’t been going well at home with my family ever since my oldest brother, Calvin, died. Sure, it was tragic, but tragic things happened to me all the time. A rough past has stayed with me. Every step, it was walking beside with me just like a weight. The only thing I’m afraid of is that a rough future waits ahead for me.

Calvin was always the star of the show, always the one getting noticed. He was the popular guy who was into sports, but wasn’t a jock. He was the one who got good grades, but wasn’t a nerd. He was the one who was skilled at everything, but never bragged too much. He was the one who was born and raised in France. Raised in an environment where you had to work for everything you had. Respect was earned through the things you did and not through the clothes you wore or the people you hang out with.

On the other hand, Julius was born in England. However he was raised in the States. Morals, values … everything is extremely different. For some reason, Julius was always the tough love kind of brother. He was the one who never approved of any guy. He was the one who was always on your parents’ side if you ever argued with them. He was the one who’s never acted like he loved you in any kind of way. He was the brother you always hated. There were no buts. Favoritism is what it is, and I favored Calvin.

After he died, it was like a big hole was poked through our family. There was a gap in between each of us and it only made itself worse, growing bigger each hour of each day of each month of each year. It tore us apart and stretched us in ways I never thought a loss could.

We were supposed to be family, but at that moment, just days after Calvin’s funeral, it only felt as if we were a bunch of strangers grouped together to live in one house for the rest of our lives. That wasn’t what I had planned out for myself. I had no intentions of living with people who I didn’t know. And that’s what it was. I was living with people I didn’t know.

Experiencing a death of a loved one – not only did it change my family but it also changed my views remarkably on how people can change. Whether it be good or bad, it’s dramatic. Calvin’s death took its toll on all of us. Whenever Calvin pops into mind, I don’t think he would be very proud of where I’m heading, or even worse – where our family has already gone. In all honesty, our family is already gone. Looking back on it now, it seems as if Calvin was the only thing that was keeping our family together. He was the only reason I kept on holding on.

It hasn’t even been five years since his death, and things are slowly but surely falling down even deeper; as if it isn’t already down deep enough. These past two years, all I’ve heard repeatedly was “Analise, you just don’t get it, do you?” or “You’re not even contributing to this family.” Somewhere along those lines. These past two years, I’ve been the only one who’s been dealing with Calvin’s death. These past two years, I’ve been the only one trying to live a normal life. These past two years, I’ve been the only one trying to glue my family back together, but my words and my care aren’t enough to keep them in tact.

I fell asleep that night, crying. I woke up to my dried tears that streamed across my cheeks and an almost dry pillow. I sat up, and tried to remember what exactly had happened last night. I did lock the door, right? No, I didn't, because I rushed out to the room so fast that the woman at the desk didn't have the time to give me one, I thought to myself as I inhaled, smelling the smoke and scent of marijuana. Disturbed by the smell, I grabbed my bag and put on my shoes. I quickly rushed out of the motel room until I hit something hard, almost like brick. I would have fallen if it weren’t for the long arms that had caught me by my back. Confused and dazed, I looked up. I was still tired so my vision wasn’t all that well, but I saw a face of a man. The figure was built – tall and lean. I also saw a shadow of people behind him. I blinked a couple of times to clear my blurry sight.

“Sorry to be bugging you at such an early time.” I saw the man’s lips move, a deep voice coming out of his mouth. His English accent was thick as if he had just come from England the night before.

“Oh, um, no. It’s okay. I’m sorry for having bumped into you.” I blinked a couple more times before my vision had completely cleared. I was right – he was tall and lean. He was built and you could see his muscles through his white t-shirt. He wasn’t the scary type of built though, not the kind you’d see in muscle competitions or anything. He had the deepest blue eyes I had ever seen and it was as if they’d never end. It was all I could stare at before he had interrupted my day dreaming.

“I’m guessing you’re heading out now?” He smiled lightly for a half second, leaving me completely speechless. I had to shake my head to get back into reality.

“Yeah, that I am. I’m sorry, again.” I mumbled, mostly to myself. I half ran out that motel room, passing quickly by his small group of friends and onto the sidewalk. Once I had reached it, I stopped for a moment to catch a breath. I closed my eyes and shook my head at myself.

Unrealistic dreaming was what my mind was made of. Unreal fantasies that I knew could never come true. I always filled my head with untrue expectations and realities and today, it was seriously getting the better of me. I took a glance behind my back, at the motel room, and I noticed him staring at me. His friends had already gone in the room, I had guessed, considering they were no longer behind him. He stood at the doorway, staring at me. I snapped back around and started to walk in a hurry.

love and all that comes with it

There are many ways to define love, even in the dictionary. But here are the three first definitions of love taken from the dictionary:

1. A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness.
2. A feeling of intense desire and attraction toward a person with whom one is disposed to make a pair; the emotion of sex and romance.
3. a. Sexual passion.
b. Sexual intercourse.
c. A love affair.

And according to the bible, this would be considered love:

Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails; but if there are gifts of prophecy, they will be done away; if there are tongues, they will cease; if there is knowledge, it will be done away.
... But now faith, hope, love, abide these three; but the greatest of these is love.

I'd hate to be the one writing down the dictionary definitions because in all honesty, love is different for everyone.
However, I feel as if the bible has the better view of love.

Love is not just holding hands, kissing or hugging.
Love isn't just making eye contact or hanging out for a few hours.

Love definitely isn't just saying "I love you".

Love can be expressed in over thousands of ways, and love means thousands of things.
One never knows love until they experience it.
And I don't know if I have. I'd like to say I have, because by my definition of love - I really have.
Love between family members, close friends and maybe, sometimes, even if for a short while, a significant other.

Love is love. How can you change that, or replace that, with anything else?
Love is precious and it takes time.
Love doesn't not come around too often.
Love isn't money - you can't just hand it to someone. You can't just expect something back.

Love and all that comes with it - a mixture of good and bad, happy and sad, exciting and frightening - we must be grateful for it.
Without love, where would the world be?
Love has helped the world turn.
Love has helped the world change.

Love is not just a feeling - it's an experience.
Love is not just a stop along the way - it's the destination.
Love is a journey that grows step by step, bit by bit ... only getting better.

Love isn't just between one man and one woman.
Love can be between a man and a man or a woman and woman.
Love can be between a mother and her child, or a father and his child.
Love can be between a friend and a friend.
Love can be between a brother and a sister, a sister and a sister, a sister and a brother, a brother and a brother.

There is not just one kind of love.
It comes in different forms, shapes, sizes, and kinds that we cannot even imagine to think of.

We're all too blinded by all this hate and regret and selfishness that we can't take a few seconds out of our day to say "Thank you" to that stranger who holds open your door or to your friend who picks up your pen. We can't say it to our mom who cooks our dinner and our dad who drives us to school. We can't smile back at the stranger who smiled or help an old woman carry her groceries out to her car. We can't call up an old friend and ask them to hang out for a few hours just to catch up. We can't see past the shadows, mistakes, flaws and imperfections of others and we judge them on their past. We can't go a day without having to talk about another person. Why not?

Hate is taking over. And we all have choices. We have the other options.

The Way I See It:
Hate is easy.
Love takes courage.

"Everyone says love hurts, but that is not true. Loneliness hurts. Rejection hurts. Losing someone hurts. Envy hurts. Everyone gets these things confused with love, but in reality love is the only thing in this world that covers up all pain and makes someone feel wonderful again. Love is the only thing in this world that does not hurt."