Log Narrative For Jay's Return
Oct. 1st, 2007 01:43 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsJay returns discreetly to the mansion.
Pulling the truck up by the garage, Jay forced it into park and lingered with the engine running, staring up at the looming presence of the mansion. The twelve hour drive had done nothing for his mood, even less for his looks. He didn’t want anyone to greet him, having left the mansion a year ago and returning against his better judgment. It was Sam’s fault he was here, teaming up with his mother, and pushing Jay practically out the door, bags packed for a college degree he didn’t care to have.
A melancholy sigh left his lips, pushing the door slowly open and settling his foot down on the ground, one step at a time. Rocks rolled beneath, a crunching sound grit between rubber and pavement as he twisted next to the door and the drivers seat, stretching. Three pops made their way up his spine and he leaned over, turning the truck off, locking the doors and heading inside.
It took little time to be assigned a suite, get a set of keys and drag his sorry hide back to the truck. It had been hard not to sell his new set of wheels for his career, but the gift had an endearing place in his heart, and it was the only thing he cared to bring back with him, aside from clothes and his guitars. The sleek truck was parked inside, and Jay grabbed the worn out duffle bag, slung his guitar over his shoulder and trekked his way up to the awaiting suite. Carefully, he avoided faces that would have otherwise stopped him in his tracks and made for a very unpleasant welcome back. He even managed a few hasty retreats from inquiring eyes and made it to the room without a single word to another soul.
Tired by the time he reached the suite, the duffle was discarded on the small couch, and the guitar was equally forgotten when leaned against a wall. It was bigger then the last time he had been here, and attributed that to being a graduate now. Barely a man, even less of a student, he didn’t feel any more welcome here then the day he had left. And it was better that he left. Now, oh, now he had to sit and take the classes, learn so that he could leave again as fast as it had taken him to get here. If only it were that easy. Pulling his black t-shirt over his head, Jay stretched the fabric, pulling it away from the red wings on his back, and more then a few feathers fell to the floor. Stress had that way of forcing an unnatural molting process. Ignoring them, he walked through the rooms, picking out one with the best view.
He cracked the window open and gazed down in the yard, surprised to see someone looking back up at him. Disappearing from sight, he drew the curtains, blocking out the person below, befitting his mood. The emotions he got as his gazed turned on the rest of the room forced Jay to sit down on the edge of the bed, and place his head in his hands. He wasn’t happy, far from it and yet, a part of him reeled that he might see a few familiar faces in this worn out place, or maybe it was just one in particular? That one face lingered specifically in his head, one he knew that would go no where, filling his mind with possibilities that would never happen. Was he going in circles before everything begun? Oh god, before the day had finished and the next day took over – there would be reunions he wouldn’t be able to look through, wouldn’t be able to ignore. He found it hard to tell anyone when he left. And those lips had pressed against his own, a move he instigated, and yet, he very much wanted to pretend he hadn’t. It ached so bad, it hurt and he hadn’t even thought about it in a full year.
It wasn’t the answer to the burning uncertainty in him. He needed balance, something to take his mind off it, breaking him away from what he thought he needed, but knew he didn’t. He was so miserable, he could barely think beyond the hour, and the salvation of sleep lured him to stand and close the door. Failing to shed the rest of his clothes, Jay lay down on the bed, and rolled onto his wings. Fluffy feathers blew up around him but again, they were ignored as they settled onto his body and on the bed.
His gazed fixed on the ceiling for awhile, nervous about tomorrow, aching for it at the same time, silently tearing him apart inwardly. Would he be prepared for what he knew to come? Possibly not and that dreadful ache crawled up his chest, clawing at his throat until he rolled on his side, cursing those thoughts away. Thankfully he didn’t have any roommates. No one was there to bang on his door and ask him if he was alright, if he wanted to talk, or to fetch Paige, who would only try and build a stable ground beneath him. It was the perfect country song, the sorrow he felt he could physically drown in, and Jay’s hand clasped over the gold cross hanging around his neck, longing for sleep that wouldn't come tonight.
Pulling the truck up by the garage, Jay forced it into park and lingered with the engine running, staring up at the looming presence of the mansion. The twelve hour drive had done nothing for his mood, even less for his looks. He didn’t want anyone to greet him, having left the mansion a year ago and returning against his better judgment. It was Sam’s fault he was here, teaming up with his mother, and pushing Jay practically out the door, bags packed for a college degree he didn’t care to have.
A melancholy sigh left his lips, pushing the door slowly open and settling his foot down on the ground, one step at a time. Rocks rolled beneath, a crunching sound grit between rubber and pavement as he twisted next to the door and the drivers seat, stretching. Three pops made their way up his spine and he leaned over, turning the truck off, locking the doors and heading inside.
It took little time to be assigned a suite, get a set of keys and drag his sorry hide back to the truck. It had been hard not to sell his new set of wheels for his career, but the gift had an endearing place in his heart, and it was the only thing he cared to bring back with him, aside from clothes and his guitars. The sleek truck was parked inside, and Jay grabbed the worn out duffle bag, slung his guitar over his shoulder and trekked his way up to the awaiting suite. Carefully, he avoided faces that would have otherwise stopped him in his tracks and made for a very unpleasant welcome back. He even managed a few hasty retreats from inquiring eyes and made it to the room without a single word to another soul.
Tired by the time he reached the suite, the duffle was discarded on the small couch, and the guitar was equally forgotten when leaned against a wall. It was bigger then the last time he had been here, and attributed that to being a graduate now. Barely a man, even less of a student, he didn’t feel any more welcome here then the day he had left. And it was better that he left. Now, oh, now he had to sit and take the classes, learn so that he could leave again as fast as it had taken him to get here. If only it were that easy. Pulling his black t-shirt over his head, Jay stretched the fabric, pulling it away from the red wings on his back, and more then a few feathers fell to the floor. Stress had that way of forcing an unnatural molting process. Ignoring them, he walked through the rooms, picking out one with the best view.
He cracked the window open and gazed down in the yard, surprised to see someone looking back up at him. Disappearing from sight, he drew the curtains, blocking out the person below, befitting his mood. The emotions he got as his gazed turned on the rest of the room forced Jay to sit down on the edge of the bed, and place his head in his hands. He wasn’t happy, far from it and yet, a part of him reeled that he might see a few familiar faces in this worn out place, or maybe it was just one in particular? That one face lingered specifically in his head, one he knew that would go no where, filling his mind with possibilities that would never happen. Was he going in circles before everything begun? Oh god, before the day had finished and the next day took over – there would be reunions he wouldn’t be able to look through, wouldn’t be able to ignore. He found it hard to tell anyone when he left. And those lips had pressed against his own, a move he instigated, and yet, he very much wanted to pretend he hadn’t. It ached so bad, it hurt and he hadn’t even thought about it in a full year.
It wasn’t the answer to the burning uncertainty in him. He needed balance, something to take his mind off it, breaking him away from what he thought he needed, but knew he didn’t. He was so miserable, he could barely think beyond the hour, and the salvation of sleep lured him to stand and close the door. Failing to shed the rest of his clothes, Jay lay down on the bed, and rolled onto his wings. Fluffy feathers blew up around him but again, they were ignored as they settled onto his body and on the bed.
His gazed fixed on the ceiling for awhile, nervous about tomorrow, aching for it at the same time, silently tearing him apart inwardly. Would he be prepared for what he knew to come? Possibly not and that dreadful ache crawled up his chest, clawing at his throat until he rolled on his side, cursing those thoughts away. Thankfully he didn’t have any roommates. No one was there to bang on his door and ask him if he was alright, if he wanted to talk, or to fetch Paige, who would only try and build a stable ground beneath him. It was the perfect country song, the sorrow he felt he could physically drown in, and Jay’s hand clasped over the gold cross hanging around his neck, longing for sleep that wouldn't come tonight.
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