Shrieks: A Narrative Fiction
“Good music isn’t the music that’s made loud enough for the world to hear, it’s the music made that makes the world go quiet.”
“That’s really charming, Mark. Isn’t that right, ladies? A charming quote made by a charming lad?” Shrieks. “Everyone here is in love with you! What are you made of, really, Mark?”
“I’m made of everyone and everything I have ever lived through.”
“How’d you come up with that, Mark? Inspiration? Could it have been because of a certain someone you’ve been seen with lately?”
“No, no, I’d rather be friends with someone first. When you’re friends, there’s a deeper connection to build on.”
“So you’re single?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s it like being so wanted? You get all this female attention – you’re practically a sex symbol! Surely …show more content…
There was an exaggerated moment wherein I set my laptop beside me on the bed, falling backwards to cover my eyes with one of my arms. Thousands of sentences flashed through my head, flitting like binary code under my closed eyelids. As a self-proclaimed melodramatic person, I felt like this was an appropriate pose after watching such a tragedy. Heck, if I could, I’d do this draped across a piano with a rose between my teeth. Because, why not?
Darn Mark Newman and his perfect face. Darn him and his perfect smile. Darn Mark and the day he popped up on my YouTube suggestions with his deep voice and melodies that drove me insane. He was attractive, yeah, and that was the reason I’d clicked on the thumbnail in the first place, but that one phrase kept crashing around the murals I’d built him in my mind.
“There’s a difference between fame and freedom.”
He wasn’t happy. I could tell. It was in his eyes, those ridiculously hazel eyes of his that didn’t light up the way they used to. And he slouched more than usual. Yeah, it made him look more attractive – more like one of those bad boys you’d cross the street to avoid – but it was a slouch nonetheless.
Gosh darn Mark Newman.
The bloop-like ring of a FaceTime call directed my attention back to my laptop. I dragged it next to my face to
“That’s really charming, Mark. Isn’t that right, ladies? A charming quote made by a charming lad?” Shrieks. “Everyone here is in love with you! What are you made of, really, Mark?”
“I’m made of everyone and everything I have ever lived through.”
“How’d you come up with that, Mark? Inspiration? Could it have been because of a certain someone you’ve been seen with lately?”
“No, no, I’d rather be friends with someone first. When you’re friends, there’s a deeper connection to build on.”
“So you’re single?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s it like being so wanted? You get all this female attention – you’re practically a sex symbol! Surely …show more content…
There was an exaggerated moment wherein I set my laptop beside me on the bed, falling backwards to cover my eyes with one of my arms. Thousands of sentences flashed through my head, flitting like binary code under my closed eyelids. As a self-proclaimed melodramatic person, I felt like this was an appropriate pose after watching such a tragedy. Heck, if I could, I’d do this draped across a piano with a rose between my teeth. Because, why not?
Darn Mark Newman and his perfect face. Darn him and his perfect smile. Darn Mark and the day he popped up on my YouTube suggestions with his deep voice and melodies that drove me insane. He was attractive, yeah, and that was the reason I’d clicked on the thumbnail in the first place, but that one phrase kept crashing around the murals I’d built him in my mind.
“There’s a difference between fame and freedom.”
He wasn’t happy. I could tell. It was in his eyes, those ridiculously hazel eyes of his that didn’t light up the way they used to. And he slouched more than usual. Yeah, it made him look more attractive – more like one of those bad boys you’d cross the street to avoid – but it was a slouch nonetheless.
Gosh darn Mark Newman.
The bloop-like ring of a FaceTime call directed my attention back to my laptop. I dragged it next to my face to