Every One You Buy... | Closed RP
It was a bitter taste on his tongue every time Steve went and did these shows. He stood on the stage and performed and made the people in the crowd smile and laugh. He entertained the kids and kept the adults interested. The men envied his body, the women desired him, the children made a hero out of him, but he wasn’t a hero. He was a cheap prop for a war he should be fighting. Ever since he was a child, he had been playing soldier, wanting nothing more than to lay his life down for his country, but he never had the opportunity to because of his medical conditions. Now, those are gone, but so is the man who had given him this opportunity. He was going to be nothing more than a prop, that’s what the Colonel had more or less told him.
Steve finally got through the line of people and he just wanted to get to his hotel room and sleep for the rest of his life – or at least until Bucky got home from the war again. He pushes his way out of a door that is marked as an exit and finds himself in a dark alley. Isn’t that just ironic and symbolic? He always used to get into fights in the back alleys and they always ended with Bucky helping Steve or the men beating on Steve getting bored and leaving when they nearly kill Steve. Some of them don’t try to stop, some of them would have been happy with killing Steve.
The door closes firmly behind him and he exhales softly, wondering briefly if this is how people felt when they wanted a cigarette because all the wants to do is calm down. He feels almost filthy as he leans against the wall of the building, beginning to count down from ten. He’s not wearing the Captain America costume anymore, but he has a jacket on and his collar is drawn up around his neck to fight off the cold that he doesn’t even feel anymore. A constant 100 degrees really keeps you toasty.
