Post by tarnie1 on Mar 11, 2012 21:07:58 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: d3d3d3; width: 370px; padding-top: 30; padding-bottom: 30;] wretched, look at me, i've lost it melting on the table, in parking lots and markets. It was a Saturday night and Ryder was in his favorite place doing his favorite thing. Him and his band: Vanishing Tale, were playing at the standing stone and though anyone who had known Ryder for more than a week assumed he was incapable of love, they usually all took it back after they saw him preform, he didn't love people, he rarely liked people but he loved music and loved preforming with everything he had, he used it as his excuse a lot of the time, he didn't have space in his life for other people and he didn't care to make if for them. There was one thing he disliked about preforming though, he hated that his band mate and best friend limited his alcohol intake no matter how much Ryder protested that he preformed better after he had drank more. See the thing is, Ryder is an alcoholic though he passes it off as just liking to have a good time, like it's a social thing. It wasn't, but he was proud and admitting to an addiction was the same as admitting that you were vulnerable. People knew though, those who cared enough about him and those who have known him long enough know that he has a problem, most of them also know better than to give him advice, they only got it thrown back in there faces. So the twenty-six year old was relatively sober for 10:30pm on a Saturday, I say relatively because he had still managed to get a couple of Jack Daniels down and a few beers as he preformed, he didn't like water. The second they were done with there set, Ryder packed up his guitar and then left the rest to his poor suffering band mates, hurrying to the bar to order a 'well deserved' double Jack Daniels, a double that didn't last long. People may have looked down on Ryder for his drinking habits but it was the only thing he had found that numbed his pain and his memories, that had having sex with random women. It made him forget that his life sucked just for a little while, until he woke up the next day in an unfamiliar bed with an unfamiliar woman but that familiar feeling of a banging head, a sick stomach and with the memories as clear as ever in his head. See nothing he did, no drugs he took, no matter how many drinks he had or how many women he slept with, ever made his past seem any further away, or any less consuming of his life, it was always just a quick fix, temporary. He hated that he let his past control his life so much but he didn't know how to change, he had spent his whole life keeping people as far away from him as possible, how was he expected to just drop all of his guards and his walls. He hit his hand on the bar to signal for a refill from the barman before he turned to lean on the bar side and take a look around the bar to see who he wanted to take home that night. It made things even easier for him, when he had just played, girls had this thing for the musician rocker kind of thing, he had the bad boy image down to a tee and the women swarmed to him. And then there was of course the fact that he was ridiculously attractive too. words words | tagged; person | status made by owlgirl of caution 2.0 |