seen from China
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from Canada
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from China
seen from Israel
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from India
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Argentina
We saw the same sunset
On two different sides of town
We never knew it would cause so much upset
Now our worlds are crashing down
The city walls are closing in
No second to think
Now there is no end
I’m standing on the brink
Running and running we go
Soon enough we’ll be back
Not soon enough to stop the blow
But barely before their worlds fade to black
It’s a hopeless war
The cycle continues as before
Stomach Bugs Have the Worst Timing: Day 24
Warning(s): mentions of vomit
You have been warned!
Just one more day.
Jax looked at himself in the vanity mirror, the ring lights around the frame dimmed enough to where he didn’t have to squint so much; however the lights only served to make his complexion look simultaneously paler and more flushed. He was pretty sure he was running a fever, if the chills running up his spine despite his heavy dress coat were any indication, and he suspected it had risen a little in the past hours.
He closed his eyes and sank back down in his chair, using the vanity to brace himself on the way down.
It’s the last night of the play, he thought to himself. Just another hour or two and you’re free to go.
Sure, Jax could’ve taken the day off and let his understudy take over, but as far as he was concerned the guy couldn’t recite his lines to save his life. Besides, the costume they had for the villain was far too small to fit Andrew—they only had the one fit for Jax, who was barely five feet tall.
Jax leaned forward and held his head in his hands, his eyes still closed. He felt too sick to be preparing for another showing, if he was being honest. The heat radiating off him was being trapped inside the thick material of his costume, and it wasn’t doing his queasy stomach any favors and only made him more aware of the shivers he’d have to hold back to keep his voice for the smooth-talking antagonist steady.
At this point Jax had been a little too distracted in not falling asleep that he nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a bag being dropped onto the vanity. He jumped a little and looked up to see Brooklyn, a junior in charge of makeup, staring down at him, her forest green eyes and magenta necklace shining in the ring lights.
“Is it already time?” Jax asked dazedly.
“No, but we have about twenty minutes to do makeup and fix final props,” Brooklyn replied as she opened and began digging through her bag. “We don’t need a repeat of Monday’s show, do we?”
Jax snorted as he recalled the “technical difficulties” of opening night. Apparently, the girl playing the maid misplaced the doll used as the baby and they’d wound up using a ball of yarn wrapped in a sweater only to later discover the doll had been softly “crying” in the fireplace for the first two scenes.
“That’s because Amanda would lose her head if it wasn’t attached to her neck,” Jax muttered. He looked up to see Brooklyn practically staring at his face, her brows pinched together. “What?”
“You look really pale,” Brooklyn said, but it sounded more like she was telling herself. “Do you feel alright?”
Jax blinked. “Not really, but I should be fine for tonight,” he said. Brooklyn didn’t seem to believe him. Jax didn’t blame her—he didn’t quite believe himself either.
“Are you sure?” Brooklyn asked. “You’re sitting down and yet you still look like you’re about to faint.”
“I’ll—“ Jax pressed a fist to his lips to stifle an unexpected burp. “I’ll be fine,” he said shakily.
“You’re gonna throw up on stage if you feel as sick as you look, Redwood,” Brooklyn said sternly, her arms crossed. Despite her green eyes, dark skin, and vibrant purple hair, Brooklyn’s firmness always reminded Jax of his adoptive mother. His heart clenched at the sudden feeling of homesickness.
“I’ll be fine,” Jax repeated.
Brooklyn rolled her eyes and opened her makeup bag again. “D’you want full face or just the ridiculous mustache?”
“Jus’ do full face. ‘S the last night, I guess.”
She hummed in acknowledgement and pulled out the foundation shade and brush she used for Jax. Then she squeezed some product and applied it to Jax’s cheek. It felt cold against his heated skin, and he closed his eyes to let Brooklyn continue with the makeup.
“Wow, this looks dark on you today,” she muttered, spreading the foundation out more on the left side of his face. Brooklyn gently moved his face to the side with her fingertips, paused, then pressed the inside of her wrist to Jax’s neck.
“Oh my god, you’re burning up,” she said exasperatedly. “Do you want me to tell Andrew to fill in for you?”
“He probably doesn’t remember his lines anymore,” Jax replied. “I can make it til the end.”
Brooklyn still didn’t look convinced but didn’t argue. “It’s your funeral,” she said, then continued to fix Jax’s stage makeup.
By the time the play’s narrator had introduced the selection, Jax felt awful. His stomach kept him seated near the trashcan as he planned for the worst, and the stage director had been keeping a close eye on him as soon as he’d sat down with a hand on his midsection. He was just glad he had about twenty minutes and a set change before his character was introduced.
As soon as he stood up to go behind the door prop, he immediately regretted it. His head spun and his mouth flooded with sour liquid. He braced himself against the trashcan, spat out a mouthful of bile, and took a long, deep breath. He didn’t pay attention to the stage director swearing under her breath beside him and instead wiped his mouth and moved to his spot to be cued in.
He tripped as soon as he stepped through the door frame but brushed it off for comedic effect. When he was supposed to be monologuing he stumbled over some of his words and might’ve dragged on a little longer than he should’ve. Then when he jumped backwards after seeing the maid lying on the floor, he had to pause to avoid falling on his ass or leaving his stomach on the floor. All with the span of about two minutes.
He felt so grateful when he had to go backstage that his body nearly gave out and he almost sank to the floor beside the door frame. Since he had to be in the same spot the next time he went onstage, he would’ve stayed there had it not been for the fact that the only trash can was on stage right, and he didn’t want to possibly leave a puddle of sick on the center of the stage.
Needless to say, the next twenty minutes backstage and onstage resulted in Jax’s health taking a turn for the worst. He hadn’t brought up anything else since before his first scene, but when he had to put on the dress for the final scene he didn’t think he’d make it to the end of the play.
As he stood behind the door he kept one hand braced against the frame and the other gingerly holding his stomach. When he heard the doorbell sound effect he straightened up as much as he could and stepped through the door opened by the maid’s boss, ‘Ms. Rachelle’.
Suddenly speaking loudly, clearly, and with a falsetto became increasingly difficult. Every step he took was focused on not losing against his sloshing stomach in front of a crowd and not tripping over the skirt whose hemline was beginning to come undone.
Jax and Ms. Rachelle stopped in front of her mother’s chair, and his stomach lurched painfully. He was able to get out maybe five words before his stomach gurgled and he bent at the waist, bringing up a wave of vomit between the two actresses. Both girls carried on their next few lines as if nothing had happened, albeit a little louder than intended, as Jax sank to a crouch and brought up another mouthful of sick on the wooden floor.
He felt his eyes sting with unshed tears and registered a flurry of reactions—startled gasps and murmurs from the crowd; the stage director aggressively whispering “Curtains!” into her headpiece; and the actual sound of the curtains being drawn.
Jax squeezed his eyes shut and took a shuddering breath as tears flooded down his face. God, he really just threw up in front of hundreds of people, didn’t he? The sheer thought of it made his body shake and his stomach clench harder with each sob.
He gagged again and added to the puddle in front of him when he felt someone removing the scarf from around his neck. He opened his eyes to see Ms. Rachelle, now back to her old self of Avalon, with both the ridiculous sunglasses and scarf of his costume. She set them down beside herself before inching forward and brushing his bangs behind his ears.
“You’re boiling,” she said, though she didn’t seem very surprised. “Why didn’t you ask Andrew to fill in?”
Jax didn’t answer. He only shook his head and sobbed. Avalon pushed her robes aside and pulled Jax back to the spot where he’d resided between his scenes; if he was sick there at least the mess would end up in the trash can.
Just when Jax had been seated the stage manager pushed aside the side of the curtain and stepped forward so the crowd could see her.
“Uh, sorry for the inconvenience, but we’re experiencing some… issues at the moment. However if you would please just sit tight we’ll have everything sorted out soon. Feel free to use this time as an intermission of sorts before we can get ourselves back on schedule.”
She stepped backstage again but said nothing towards Jax. “Can someone call the janitor over? Cuz I really doubt one of you guys are gonna step up to the challenge.”
up all night at the phone
never knowing when you’ll be home
terrified you will never show
there are only so many places you can go
the walls are closing in
with no escape in the end
i could never shoulder this weight
it feels like i’m about to break
maybe there is a safe place for you to land
who can tell when we aren’t there to lend a hand
i’m losing hope before the sun begins to grow
we are suffocating in the undertow
it is the darkest hour of the darkest night
The fog starts to clear
And you’re standing there
The first face I see tonight
Of course you are leading the pack
Suddenly it all comes flashing back
Secret milkshakes in the city
Staring into your eyes as the night fades
Feeling all of the hope in the world
Until I look away
Then I’m talking
Words fumbling out of my mouth
Anything to get you to look at me
Begging you to see me again
But that never comes
There’s fire in your eyes
Venom in your words
One split second
One stupid move
Now we can never go back
The fog starts to clear
And you’re standing there
The first face I see tonight
Of course you are leading the pack
Suddenly it all comes flashing back
Secret milkshakes in the city
Staring into your eyes as the night fades
Feeling all of the hope in the world
Until I look away
Then you’re talking
I’m struggling to stay back
Just one step closer
But it could never be how it was
Cause here we are
You’re egging me on
I can’t bear it
I have to stop this
Just a few words
Now we can never go back
Hi Y'all!
Get To Know Me:
Name: Ace Pronouns: she/her Age: 21 Fandom: The Outsiders
Sometimes I write poetry... you can find it under #ace-writes If you have a writing idea let me know... I LOVE writing and need inspiration! I am trying to get into writing things other than poetry so be prepared for that.
Message me whenever! I'm chronically online so I will answer quickly!
