Original Writing: Kevin Samson's breakdown
I hope this makes sense, seeing as I'm posting before I've unveiled much about Kevin's character. He's in a new boarding school. I highly recommend you listen to the song when the lyrics start, at full volume, accompanied with rainymood.
I was walking, fists clenched and teeth gritted, through the halls of James Stanley at nearly two am. I didn’t ever think if they kept the lights on at night, but I was satisfied that they didn’t. I felt like I could hit out, but of course I didn’t. Kevin Samson isn’t tough like that.
The phone call with my mother still rang in my ears. “You’re going to have to start doing better Kevin, if you really want to succeed. I don’t know if you could come back for Christmas yet, I may be going away myself, but I will keep you posted some day. Please do try harder, okay?”
I was seething with rage. That’s what it was. I could feel my knuckles almost popping as I slammed open a door, not giving a fuck who heard me.
Because what could they do? Expel me?
“I don’t want you to throw away your future Kevin. I have a solid career right now, even if it’s not something you could follow. That’s why I want you to continue with your photography and drop this Music business.”
Yeah, they could.
I shoved my earphones in as hard as I could and pressed play.
I hate to break it to you, but, you’re just a lonely star. I try to bring you down, but, one level isn’t good enough—!
I reached the main hall quicker than anticipated. Ignoring any sort of trespassing rules, I pulled the large set of keys from my pocket and unlocked the main doors to it easily. It was so dark inside, although the windows illuminated most of the shadows. The rain was thick and heavy and almost calling to me and I walked through the tables.
You always do as you please so, I’m going to follow suit and take a seat, watch you fall apart, ‘cause in the end, what’re you without me?
I felt like screaming because no one let me vent properly before. Although, building up anger felt amazing because as soon as you started to let it out, it poured everywhere. It burnt everything and at that precise moment, you didn’t care. Like me right now.
I’ll slow this down, ‘cause I know that you can’t keep up, oh maybe I, maybe I was wrong from the start, I might be proud, but at least I’m proud of something—
At least I’m proud of myself in this fucked up life I’ve led so far. Having a Mom who flaunts her body for money? Like that’s something to brag about to your son.
You’ve taken pride in becoming nothing.
“Mmm, I don’t know, Kevin. Plane tickets are pricey, and I don’t want to have to stress about letting you go. I don’t really know right now.”
I got to the end of the hallway and unlocked the doors, pushing them open to step out into the large quad. As soon as I was one footstep out, the rain began pelting my face, hitting me hard and instantly drenching my clothes. I jumped out and ran, thinking fuck everything, and screamed.
You keep me on, the edge of my seat! I bite my tongue, so you don’t hear me! I want to hate every part of you in me! I can’t hate, the ones who made me!
My feet were already soaked, the floor an inch high with rain, but I didn’t care. I loved it. I wanted to be swept away in the water. It felt like God was drowning the Earth all over again, although this time, there was no Noah and no fucking ark.
YOU KEEP ME ON, THE EDGE OF MY SEAT—I BITE MY TONGUE SO YOU DON’T HEAR ME—I WANT TO HATE EVERY PART OF YOU IN ME—I CAN’T HATE THE ONES WHO MADE ME—!
I hate you—
I’m married to the music—
I actually am—
For better or for worse—
Better, worse, who cares—
You say that I am privileged, but my gift is my curse—
What better security does this school offer? Like I feel safer.
I can’t recall the last time, someone asking how I was—last I checked I was a fucking wreck—I called for help and no one showed up—
I crumpled, literally. My lungs were on fire and I was shouting, but like anyone could hear over the storm. No one had noticed my absence, nor my yelling, so who fucking cared. Teenagers were allowed to fuck up and break down as much as they wanted because that was their excuse; they were teenagers. I could do whatever at this time of night. Who cared.
So I sit in the dirt.
My phone cut off the music and a familiar noise rung through the headphones. I pulled them out of my ears and ripped the end out of my phone, hands shaking as water began to hit down onto the screen. Trying to shield it with my head, I didn’t realise that some of the water were actually tears.
Incoming call: Alice Picket.
I instantly put the phone to my ear, answering the call just as a loud clap of thunder rang out. There was a little bit of static before Alice’s voice sounded into my ear, worried.
“Kevin? Baby?”
My voice broke, I knew it, but I said it anyway. “I fucked up Alice. I’m fucked up.”