Post by Dylan James on Sept 11, 2009 18:19:24 GMT -5
A few days after his final GIW appearance, Dylan James is walking down a street in his hometown of Detroit, deep in thought.
I blew it. I blew my big chance. I don't believe this.
As he walks, he sees a bar, and with nothing holding him now, he walks in. As he enters, several of the patrons look his way, their eyes wide with wonder as to why the straight edge superstar is in a bar. James ignores the stares, and walks up to the bartender, taking a seat.
Give me your strongest stuff.
The bartender eyes him suspiciously, and then begins mixing, eventually giving James a glass.
Bartender: You’ll want to take that slow-
The bartender is cut off, and he stares in astonishment as Dylan takes the glass and begins chugging the drink down. He finishes within a minute, and puts the glass down.
More.
Bartender: Wait, what? You want more?
Isn’t that what I said?
The bartender begins making another drink, still staring and Dylan in astonishment. He finishes mixing the drink, and within moments, Dylan has the glass and is downing that as well. The bartender sits in stunned silence as DJ finishes the drink, and slams the glass down, now swerving in his chair a bit.
M-m-more.
Bartender: No way son, I’m cutting you off on that shit. How about a beer?
F-f-f-f-fuck you, g-g-gimme more of t-t-that shit.
Bartender: I’m gonna lose my fucking job.
But with that, the bartender makes one more for DJ. He barely puts the glass onto the table before DJ scoops it up and slams down that drink. This time, he drops the glass onto the floor, stands up, almost falling over as he does so, and begins to leave, only stopping to drunkenly turn around and address the bar.
I LOVE YOU ALL!
With that, DJ leaves the bar, and begins swerving, drunkenly walking down the street back to his apartment. As he walks, a man suddenly steps in front of him, a wide smirk on his face. He holds a vial of pills in front of DJ’s face.
Dealer: Hey, how about buying some of this?
What... is.... it?
Dealer: It don’t matter what it’s called, it will help you get to sleep.
Oh? And who are you?
Dealer: I’m a doctor. Just buy the shit already.
Alright, no problemo.
DJ pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket, and hands it to the dealer, who gives him the pills, and then takes off. DJ tucks the pills into his pocket, and continues walking down the street, eventually reaching his apartment. He enters the building, and with a glare coming his direction from the secretary, steps into the elevator, and goes up. When the elevator reaches his floor, he nearly falls over stepping out, and, swerving all over the hall, begins walking down to his apartment. He gets to his door, and fumbles with the key for several minutes before figuring out how to work it, and unlocks his door, stumbling in. He slams the door behind him, and, taking a couple of steps, collapses on his couch. He is just about to fall completely unconscious until:
??: WHAT THE FUCK!!!
Dylan sits up with a start, not immediately recognizing where he is, until he sees Christina Adams, his girlfriend, standing in front of the couch.
Adams: What the fuck is going on?
I’m sleeping, what does it fucking look like?
Adams: It looks like your fucking drunk!
That is c-c-c-correct, babe. I had some hard shit to drink.
Christina stares at Dylan in stunned silence before speaking.
Adams: I thought that you were straight edge...
Fuck that silly, overrated religion. I’m a new man now. I have nothing, so I might as well throw away the silliness of my old life.
Christina flinches at Dylan’s comments, before recovering.
Adams: You... have... nothing? What about me?
I don’t like you anymore.
Adams: W-w-what?
You heard me.
Adams: You don’t mean that.
Yes. Y-yes I do. N-n-now... go... go away.
With that, Dylan reaches into his pocket, grabs one of the pills, and downs two. He collapses back onto the couch, and before Christina can say a word, he is snoring away. Christina slowly walks back to hers and Dylan’s bedroom, and sits on the end of the bed.
Adams: He has thrown it all away... he ... doesn’t love me anymore...
With that, she quickly stands up and packs her stuff up. As she walks to the door, she turns around, looking at the sleeping face of Dylan James one final time, then leaves, locking the door behind her.
The scene opens to the same street that Dylan was drunkenly walking down over a year ago. The bar DJ forced his first drinks down is shown, and Christina Adams is entering it.
She is so beautiful. She is so much better than being a barmaid.
The scene switches, showing Dylan James leaning against his car, his muscular arms shining in the Detroit moonlight. A lot has changed in a year, including his taller, more muscular frame. His pale complexion is the most shocking change to him, with him being almost pure white.
What did I do to her?
A reporter walks up to Dylan. He pays her no mind until she makes a small retching noise with her throat. When she has his attention, she begins speaking.
Reporter: So, Mr. James, you make your return to GIW after nearly a year gone this Sunday, correct?
That is correct.
Reporter: Is there anything you want to say to Robert Montana?
No. He is nothing more than a victim. I will make quick work of him.
Reporter: So, what has happened to you in the near year you have been gone?
A lot. For three months after my girlfriend left me, I stayed around in the foggy daze I was in. Then, my partner, Aesc, was killed during a home invasion.
Reporter: Will you elaborate on that?
No, I won’t, all you need to know is that his ex-girlfriend killed him, and then escaped. She nearly killed me, but I managed to fight her off.
Reporter: And then?
Then, I lost my apartment, and lived on the street for three more months. I was a wreck. Boozing, rotating between over ten pharmacies to feed my growing drug addiction while avoiding suspicion. I was going to do. That’s when she found me.
Reporter: She?
Maria. The love of my life. She picked me up and showed me things I never thought existed.
Reporter: What things?
Things. She changed me, not only mentally, but physically.
Reporter: You do look much better now.
Dylan smiles, but before he can respond, a woman with the same pale complexion as him steps out of the car.
Maria: I think that is quite enough questions.
Reporter: But-
Maria: I SAID GO!
The reporter scampers off and Maria smirks, only to lose the smirk when she looks at Dylan.
Maria: We must go. You must be ready for your debut.
I’m as ready as I will ever be. I-
Maria: You will never be able to be friends with Christina again, Dylan. Your mistakes hurt her too much.
I know, but-
Maria moves her head slowly towards Dylan’s ear. Dylan stops talking, knowing what he is about to hear.
Maria: As your maker, I command you.
Dylan sighs, and walks towards the car door, stealing one last look towards the bar, and seeing Christina one last time, gets into the car, and drives off.
I blew it. I blew my big chance. I don't believe this.
As he walks, he sees a bar, and with nothing holding him now, he walks in. As he enters, several of the patrons look his way, their eyes wide with wonder as to why the straight edge superstar is in a bar. James ignores the stares, and walks up to the bartender, taking a seat.
Give me your strongest stuff.
The bartender eyes him suspiciously, and then begins mixing, eventually giving James a glass.
Bartender: You’ll want to take that slow-
The bartender is cut off, and he stares in astonishment as Dylan takes the glass and begins chugging the drink down. He finishes within a minute, and puts the glass down.
More.
Bartender: Wait, what? You want more?
Isn’t that what I said?
The bartender begins making another drink, still staring and Dylan in astonishment. He finishes mixing the drink, and within moments, Dylan has the glass and is downing that as well. The bartender sits in stunned silence as DJ finishes the drink, and slams the glass down, now swerving in his chair a bit.
M-m-more.
Bartender: No way son, I’m cutting you off on that shit. How about a beer?
F-f-f-f-fuck you, g-g-gimme more of t-t-that shit.
Bartender: I’m gonna lose my fucking job.
But with that, the bartender makes one more for DJ. He barely puts the glass onto the table before DJ scoops it up and slams down that drink. This time, he drops the glass onto the floor, stands up, almost falling over as he does so, and begins to leave, only stopping to drunkenly turn around and address the bar.
I LOVE YOU ALL!
With that, DJ leaves the bar, and begins swerving, drunkenly walking down the street back to his apartment. As he walks, a man suddenly steps in front of him, a wide smirk on his face. He holds a vial of pills in front of DJ’s face.
Dealer: Hey, how about buying some of this?
What... is.... it?
Dealer: It don’t matter what it’s called, it will help you get to sleep.
Oh? And who are you?
Dealer: I’m a doctor. Just buy the shit already.
Alright, no problemo.
DJ pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket, and hands it to the dealer, who gives him the pills, and then takes off. DJ tucks the pills into his pocket, and continues walking down the street, eventually reaching his apartment. He enters the building, and with a glare coming his direction from the secretary, steps into the elevator, and goes up. When the elevator reaches his floor, he nearly falls over stepping out, and, swerving all over the hall, begins walking down to his apartment. He gets to his door, and fumbles with the key for several minutes before figuring out how to work it, and unlocks his door, stumbling in. He slams the door behind him, and, taking a couple of steps, collapses on his couch. He is just about to fall completely unconscious until:
??: WHAT THE FUCK!!!
Dylan sits up with a start, not immediately recognizing where he is, until he sees Christina Adams, his girlfriend, standing in front of the couch.
Adams: What the fuck is going on?
I’m sleeping, what does it fucking look like?
Adams: It looks like your fucking drunk!
That is c-c-c-correct, babe. I had some hard shit to drink.
Christina stares at Dylan in stunned silence before speaking.
Adams: I thought that you were straight edge...
Fuck that silly, overrated religion. I’m a new man now. I have nothing, so I might as well throw away the silliness of my old life.
Christina flinches at Dylan’s comments, before recovering.
Adams: You... have... nothing? What about me?
I don’t like you anymore.
Adams: W-w-what?
You heard me.
Adams: You don’t mean that.
Yes. Y-yes I do. N-n-now... go... go away.
With that, Dylan reaches into his pocket, grabs one of the pills, and downs two. He collapses back onto the couch, and before Christina can say a word, he is snoring away. Christina slowly walks back to hers and Dylan’s bedroom, and sits on the end of the bed.
Adams: He has thrown it all away... he ... doesn’t love me anymore...
With that, she quickly stands up and packs her stuff up. As she walks to the door, she turns around, looking at the sleeping face of Dylan James one final time, then leaves, locking the door behind her.
A Year Later
The scene opens to the same street that Dylan was drunkenly walking down over a year ago. The bar DJ forced his first drinks down is shown, and Christina Adams is entering it.
She is so beautiful. She is so much better than being a barmaid.
The scene switches, showing Dylan James leaning against his car, his muscular arms shining in the Detroit moonlight. A lot has changed in a year, including his taller, more muscular frame. His pale complexion is the most shocking change to him, with him being almost pure white.
What did I do to her?
A reporter walks up to Dylan. He pays her no mind until she makes a small retching noise with her throat. When she has his attention, she begins speaking.
Reporter: So, Mr. James, you make your return to GIW after nearly a year gone this Sunday, correct?
That is correct.
Reporter: Is there anything you want to say to Robert Montana?
No. He is nothing more than a victim. I will make quick work of him.
Reporter: So, what has happened to you in the near year you have been gone?
A lot. For three months after my girlfriend left me, I stayed around in the foggy daze I was in. Then, my partner, Aesc, was killed during a home invasion.
Reporter: Will you elaborate on that?
No, I won’t, all you need to know is that his ex-girlfriend killed him, and then escaped. She nearly killed me, but I managed to fight her off.
Reporter: And then?
Then, I lost my apartment, and lived on the street for three more months. I was a wreck. Boozing, rotating between over ten pharmacies to feed my growing drug addiction while avoiding suspicion. I was going to do. That’s when she found me.
Reporter: She?
Maria. The love of my life. She picked me up and showed me things I never thought existed.
Reporter: What things?
Things. She changed me, not only mentally, but physically.
Reporter: You do look much better now.
Dylan smiles, but before he can respond, a woman with the same pale complexion as him steps out of the car.
Maria: I think that is quite enough questions.
Reporter: But-
Maria: I SAID GO!
The reporter scampers off and Maria smirks, only to lose the smirk when she looks at Dylan.
Maria: We must go. You must be ready for your debut.
I’m as ready as I will ever be. I-
Maria: You will never be able to be friends with Christina again, Dylan. Your mistakes hurt her too much.
I know, but-
Maria moves her head slowly towards Dylan’s ear. Dylan stops talking, knowing what he is about to hear.
Maria: As your maker, I command you.
Dylan sighs, and walks towards the car door, stealing one last look towards the bar, and seeing Christina one last time, gets into the car, and drives off.