❛ Tell me about him? ❜ (from artreveals)
Tell Me... || accepting || @artreveals
It was rare that the Poet ever let his mask drop like this, but he'd been caught off guard. It had been a bad day. The very worst of days. He'd decided to drown his sorrows in several bottles of red wine, the empty receptacles laying on the rug by the side of his plum upholstered wingback chair. His purple and black flock tie was hooked around his neck, his black shirt untucked and his white blond hair in disarray.
Yet, despite his inebriated state, he hesitated at the question. His singular blue eye was fixed on the light of the setting sun bleeding in through the window, his gaze hazy and distant as he remained deep in silent contemplation. The needle on the record player scraped and rolled, the album having finished a long time ago as the vinyl span in endless, dull circles.
Instead of answering, he pushed himself up onto his feet using the arms of the chair. His head span and he did his best not to stagger - an art he had practiced extensively over the years - as he approached the record player. He carefully removed the needle from the ridges and turned off the device as he slipped the vinyl back into its sleeve.
"Where do I begin?" he slurred miserably, placing the vinyl back with the others in his neatly categorised rows. He sighed, combing his fingers through his hair and taking a deep breath.
Compose yourself, Poet.
He leaned his hands against the oak table the record player was resting on, his singular blue eye flickering as if he was trying to trace his steps back in time. His heart was aching, but he forced himself to push up to the surface and float on the waves of fermented grapes he'd been drinking like water all day.
"He was..." he began slowly. "... is the love of my life."
Standing straight, he inhaled sharply and paced back to his chair, easing himself back down with a heavy sigh. "His name is Caesar. Yes, that Caesar. I knew him before he had exploded into fame and was still a young man asserting himself in the music world. Though, he was just as brilliant then as he is now..."
He clicked his metal rings together and ran his fingers in front of his lips as he considered. "We were both up-and-coming musicians and...I was a very naïve, very anxious young man." He smirked knowingly. "Hard to believe, I'm sure, but it's true...the only place I ever had even a jot of confidence was the stage."
His eyes misted over the more he began to delve into the past. "I wasn't exactly...out at the time we were dating. I was still trying to find myself and work out what it was that I wanted, but I know more than anything that I adored him...even if I never spoke a word of it aloud. He had this uncanny way of taking my breath away with a few simple words and rendering me speechless,"
He raised a brow. "Again, I understand how that may be hard to imagine, given my gift of the gab."
His smile slowly faded, his eyes growing sombre once again. "He proposed to me the night before he went off on his trailblazing tour and...I rejected him," He looked up at Basil with a tight smile. "And, I'm sure you're thinking what a villain, how terrible, how could he possibly? But, the truth is...I was frightened. I didn't know if Caesar loved me as much as I adored him and I was scared to give my heart to someone who didn't love me as ardently as I loved them...again. It's a recurring motif we won't get into."
He reached for his wine glass, taking a generous sip. "We argued, we said some unforgiveable things to one another and then a few weeks later, I died. Or, that's what all the papers said, at least...I hadn't the strength to correct them and, at the time, it seemed pointless to. I'd survived, though I didn't intend to live for much longer..."
He took a shaky breath as he placed his glass back down, almost knocking it over for the tremors in his hand. "I haven't contacted him since. He's a bright, vibrant star and he doesn't need me hanging over him like a half-dead shadow, dragging him down with my repulsive appearance and scandalous abilities...he'd probably scream at me and send me away, anyway. I wouldn't blame him. I'm hideous and bitter and unlovable."
He smiled at him once more, his façade slowly returning as his story ended, yet his eyes betrayed his sorrow. "And proud to be at this point, I suppose!"