#sterling diamond

[ceruleanmusings]

Blood Diamond; Year Nine

year eight

@partiallypearl @myloveforhergoeson @raging-violets @witchofinterest

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"James. We're leaving. Now."

With a solemn wave to his best camp buddy and regular school buddy, Carlos, James hopped off the wooden bench. Splinters dragged against the thick legs of his cargo pants and he thought about retying his unlaced, muddy shoes but decided it didn't matter. His mom wad mad enough already, slowing down to fix .

Carlos, with a large frown and big, wet, sad eyes waved back, only to then lift his hands to the top of his head and curl his fingers downward.

"Hee-haw," he mumbled.

James mimicked the gesture. "Hee-haw."

Once out of the main office, James followed behind his mother in slow, shuffling steps. He knew he should have been walking properly but he didn't want to leave Camp Wonky Donkey. His friends were there, he could eat sweets, he got to play normal games with other kids. It's not fair.

Brooke's heels crunched against the loose gravel as she walked across the patch of parking lot and when they made it to the car she yanked the door shut with a slam. Heaving a sigh, James slowly got into the back, slowly closed the door, and slowly pulled his seat-belt across him.

It wasn't until seconds ticked by and they hadn't moved that James lifted his head just enough to peek at Brooke from beneath his hair. She sat still in the driver's seat, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles peaked into mountain points. Her shoulders were level with her ears, lifting higher with every deep breath she took. When the breaths stopped he held his own, waiting for whatever she had to throw at him.

"....Explain to me why I got a call from your camp, the camp you begged me to send you to, only to have to come pick you up for hiding in the cabins and kissing a girl."

James stared out the window, keeping his eyes on the line of trees in the distance surrounding the sparkly lake he'd spent the last week launching himself into to try and win cannonball competitions or a game of chicken or get launched so high off The Blob he could touch space.

He sniffed, pushing down the wave of sadness rushing through him. It's not fair. Camp Wonky Donkey was the best! He could run around and not worry about getting dirty—that was the point! He got to eat s'mores for the first time and, well, he wanted more! And the sack races and the crafting and the big games of tag and hide and seek; he didn't get to experience much of it due to all his after-school activities. Sometimes he got to hang out with Kendall and play with his baby sister and that was fun but it wasn't the same as playing with kids his age.

"James Neil Diamond." Nothing good came when she had to utter his full name. She always said it the same way, through clenched teeth.

"I liked her, Mom," he said in a rush. He liked her smile and the way she laughed and he liked her brown eyes.

She stared back at him, face unmoving. (Could it move? Her eyebrows were having a hard time shifting like they did after one of her appointments.) "And?"

"She liked me too." That's what her friends said, anyway. They passed him a note while giggling, saying she wanted to meet him in the art cabin. "And Dad says I had to get my first kiss sometime."

Brooke rolled her eyes. "Oh. Of course. Because your dad has such amazing ideas."

James frowned. Sterling did have good ideas. Sterling was the one who helped him improve his shots by acting as a goalie with pillows tied to his knees and blocking with a big cushion. Sterling helped him figure out his breath control by holding his head underwater and blowing bubbles through his nose. Sterling helped him strengthen his diaphragm by stacking books on him and, when that weight got easier, by pressing a foot against him. They all worked.

But he didn't tell Brooke any of that. She wouldn't understand. They'd been fighting a lot more recently anyway; and if Brooke knew Sterling also said that if he said the right things to a girl he could get them to do what he wanted, she'd be madder.

He already knew about that anyway.

That's why James muttered "Sorry, you're right" and flashed his most charming smile (he'd practiced it in the mirror every night for maximum effectiveness). She clicked her tongue, said "I hope you are", and started the car. When he was sure her attention was on the road, he celebrated with a small fist pump.

She always liked it when he apologized, even if he didn't feel he needed to. The kiss was just a quick peck and it was sticky from her lip balm. But apologizing put her in a better mood and telling her what she wanted to hear made it all easier.

Besides, it was better than telling her the real reason he ended up kissing that girl:

She was nice to him. And she wanted him around.

[ceruleanmusings]

Blood Diamond; Year Eight

Year Seven

@partiallypearl @myloveforhergoeson @raging-violets @witchofinterest

“Do you think Mom’ll like it?” James asked, staring hard at the candles Sterling shoved into the plain, white frosting of the uneven shaped mound.

They didn’t have two of the same cake pan sizes so they went with a circle and a square and put them on top of each other. Then Sterling cut off the extras and made a sort of crown at the top. Brooke would love it. He was sure of it!

Even if it did come out of a box. And was loaded up with sugar. And they didn’t. But it was her birthday! Everyone deserved cake and sweets on their birthday.

“Of course. It’s cake. Who doesn’t like cake?” Sterling replied, rolling his thumb along a lighter. It crackled and flicked but the flame remained inside.

“But will she actually eat it?” James asked, leaning forward.

Sterling let out a long sigh. “Who knows." He flicked the lighter again. A flame popped out of it and Sterling lit the candle. He then brought it up to his mouth and lit the cigarette sitting between his lips. "Seems like nothin' can make Brooke happy anymore."

"This will," James said with a confident nod. And his good news. And his song. He'd been practicing it and practicing it until it was perfect. Brooke liked everything to be perfect. She'll like this too.

"Alright buddy, let's go."

James scrambled down from the chair and followed Sterling into the living room. She smiled at him when they entered. Something about it was strange, stiff even, but that didn't matter. She was smiling. She was in a good mood. She was happy.

Now to keep it that way.

Sterling knelt as he held a hand in front of the candles. Brooke's eyes cut his way, narrowing on the streams of smoke wafting off the lit end.

"Ahem." James brought his fist to his mouth, making a show of clearing his throat. Brooke looked at him again, the tight smile returning. So far, so good. He didn't need her paying attention to his dad. This was his gift to her.

He rolled his shoulders back, loosened his jaw and tongue, took a deep breath, and began to sing.

"Happy birthday to you...happy birthday to you..."

He followed all the suggestions his vocal coach taught him. He put as much love and sincerity to the words. He put power behind the higher note, made sure to add some vibrato and runs like Brooke liked, and made sure to end the song with a lot of soul. Because it was coming from his heart and soul after all. He wanted his mom to have the most perfect, happiest birthday she could ever have.

His insides smiled before it came through on his face. He nailed it. He nailed it. Excitement fizzed inside him and buoyed his eyes opened. Brooke looked back at him, her eyes scrunched up, the corners of her mouth lifted, her shoulders shook and...

And...

"Mom?" The word slipped out of James as a whisper, like a flapping of a fragile butterfly wing. He took a step forward and touched the back of her hand. "Are you crying?"

Brooke dabbed her eyes with the back of her hand. She sniffed, dabbed at her eyes again, and sighed. "Oh, James, no, I got my lips done today." She pointed at her face, attempting to put a smile on her face. "The burning means it's working."

James squinted, following the line of her finger. Oh, so that was it. Where her lips used to be looked like a set of pillows mashed together. They were red and swollen and weirdly shiny.

"Oh." He swallowed the disappointment flattening his buzz and glanced at Sterling. His back was turned to James as he set the cake aside and dragged a finger through the frosting. "Well, I have some good news, Mom. Remember that play I tried out for?"

"That school play?" Her nose wrinkled at the word and he nodded. "James, don't you think you're wasting your talents for school plays? That's amateur hour. You need to be up on a big stage, with bright lights and good acoustics, where everyone who means something will see you."

"I know, but..." This wasn't the first time she'd said that. After he got some spreads modeling kid fashion in some catalogs her eyes had turned to the bright lights of New York. She always went on and on about how beautiful he was, how stunning, and how his face should be on every building board and in every commercial and on every magazine. And he wanted that too, especially if she wanted it, but this would be good news too. Or at least he hoped it would. "Mom, the play. It's a musical. It's Scrooge. I'm Tiny Tim." He grasped her hand and leaned closer. "I get my own songs and everything. All the other kids my age are company!"

"Well, that's amazing, James, but it's not like there's going to be any talent scouts or casting agents in the audience," Brooke said, stroking his hair. Then she sighed and said, "But, maybe we can put some sort of reel together and find people to pass it along to. Your name and face deserves to be in the big time."

"Oh come on, Brooke. He's just a kid; let him be one for once!" Sterling removed the cigarette from his mouth and stabbed the smoking end into the piece of cake in his hand.

That was the wrong thing to say. Brooke's face didn't move much but James had seen that flinty look in her eyes enough to know later on, when he went to bed, a fight would start up. Maybe he could find a way to make her forget it. "It's okay, Mom." James patted her hand. "I think that's a good idea."

Brooke returned her frozen smile to him. "Of course it is. And make sure you get me the names of your costumers and make up. I don't want them making you look so...sick."

"Okay, Mom." James picked up the cake from the table and held it out to her. The tip of the candle was black and crooked, a thin stream of smoke rose out of it. "Do you want some cake? Dad and I made it."

"Of course not." Brooke frowned at it and waved it away. "That's sweet, but you know I don't eat sugar."

[ceruleanmusings]

Blood Diamond; Year Six

Year Five

@myloveforhergoeson @partiallypearl @witchofinterest @raging-violets

"Dad, you're supposed to be watching me."

James' mouth turned down to a pout when all Sterling did in response was snore. Huffing, James leaned forward and slammed his palms into Sterling's side, pushing him to and fro.

"Dad!"

Sterling's snores continued.

Brooke wasn't going to like this. She always wanted to know what James got up to whenever she left the house for whatever it was she did. She never gave him a straight answer when he asked where she was going. And if he asked if he could go with her she'd always laugh and tell him to mind his own business.

Sterling was supposed to watch him. But Sterling tended to do more sleeping than watching. And James got bored sitting in bed next to him. It was too quiet. And nothing happened. And Sterling kept pushing him in his sleep. He almost fell off the bed once. Brooke wouldn't like that either.

"DAD!"

Sterling jerked awake at that, limbs flailing, snores turning into an odd snorting sound that made James laugh. He couldn't help it, his father looked so funny as he woke up, as if he were trying to swim through thick water and lift his head.

"Geeze, you got some pipes on you don't cha?" Sterling grumbled, scrubbing at an eye with the heel of his palm.

"Yep!" James said proudly. He'd been taking singing lessons for over a year now. He'd always been told his voice was good. And now his dad finally noticed!

"Well, why don't you use 'em to bother the neighbors or something, buddy? I'm trying to sleep. I got in late last night."

James frowned. "Mom said you had to watch me." He was there when she told Sterling last night. They were sitting at the dinner table eating tofu stroganoff, or the little bits James couldn't hide in his napkin, when she told him. He said "okay" like he usually did from behind the swimsuit issue of Sports Illustrated.

Sterling groaned. "And I bet she's gone already."

"She left an hour ago."

"Figures she didn't bother to remind me." Sterling let out a long yawn and peered at James through blinking, bleary eyes. "I guess you want me to do something with you?"

James shrugged. They didn't have to go outside or anything. This was the most amount of time he'd gotten with his dad lately. When Sterling wasn't sleeping he wasn't at the house. And the rare times he came back, he'd end up leaving again in the middle of the night because he and Brooke got into a fight about something. He'd always smell funny too, kind of like that stuff Brooke used to change out her nail polish but sweeter and worse at the same time. She always yelled about him abandoning them whenever he left, which didn't make sense to James because his dad was always back in the morning. He always checked first thing after he woke up.

"Why don't you watch a movie?"

"I watched them all."

He had, too. Brooke put movies on all the time for him whenever she was on the phone, which was a lot lately. He had them all memorized, especially Oliver and Company. He really liked that one. He always joked he was Oliver and his dad was Dodger because he was just that cool.

Grumbling, Sterling got out of bed and stumbled for the closet. James sat back against the pillows, watching him. They puffed up around him, smelling floral and fruity. He made a mental note to fluff up the pillows again. Brooke hated when they were pushed out of place.

"Want to see something cool?" Sterling waved a black VHS tape in his hand, his stubble coated mouth cocked in a half grin. James nodded, sitting up straight. If his dad said it was something cool then it had to be really cool. "You're gonna enjoy this, buddy. This can be you once your voice gets better."

He shoved the tape into the VCR and the screen bent and flickered, shifted over to snow, and then displayed a stage. A few men were scattered around it and someone yelled into the microphone about...Philadelphia? Pittsburgh? Wiscosin? The feedback was too squealy and the noise on the tape was blown out but the audience was into it as the band on the screen started playing an high energy song.

People jumped, screamed, bounced, threw up rock hands and some girls lifted their shirts. James made a face turning to Sterling who chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck while jabbing at the fast forward button.

"Woops, forgot about that part."

The people and scenes danced and wiggled in a frenzied blur of color.

"Why're they doing that, Dad?"

"Oh, um, it's just them...showing their appreciation for the band." Sterling chuckled throughout his explanation, a gleam appearing in his eye.

James stared. "I don't get it."

"Well, buddy, let's just say music is magic."

"Magic?"

"Yeah. When you know how to wield that sort of power, you can do whatever you want. You can get whatever you want. People'll be eating out the palm of your hand. They'll do everything to keep yuo happy. It's a rush! You feel like a superhero!"

James' eyes widened. "Really?"

"Totally. Having everyone's attention? Commanding a room? Being the center of their world for the length of a song? Nothing beats that feeling. Nothing."

By the time Sterling finished waxing poetic, James' fingers squeezed his arm so hard they were nearly embedded in his skin. Saliva collected in his mouth and he managed to swallow before it dribbled over his chin. Was this it? The key to getting his mom's attention? She was already happy whenever he won a small beauty pageant or a two-line part in a play. But this was bigger. This was an entire song. With so many lines! She'd have to spend more time with him then. Right?

"Can we watch more movies?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking at normal tones would shatter his fragile reality.

"Sure, buddy. But we can't tell your mom." Sterling brought a finger to his lips and winked. "It'll be our little secret."

[ceruleanmusings]

Blood Diamond; Year Three

Year Two tw: hospital mention, allergy / allergic reaction, weight loss mention note: trying something different with this one

"I can't believe you! I told you—I told you! And you didn't listen! You never listen to me!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Sorry isn't going to fix anything! You hurt our little boy!"

"I did!?"

"He can't have nuts!"

"I didn't know!"

"...You didn't know? You didn't know James, your son—the son you so desperately wanted—had an allergy? What else don't you know, then?"

"Oh, don't do this Brooke."

"No, we're going to do this! Because of you, James will be traumatized for life!"

"That's ridiculous! It's not anaphylaxis! It's a mild allergy. Even the doctors said so!"

"Because that's better! 'James, I only hurt you a little bit! But it's okay because you didn't die'."

"Don't put words in my mouth. That's not what I'm saying and you know it."

"No, I don't. I don't know what you're trying to say at all. Only that James doesn't matter to you."

"He's my son! Of course he matters!"

"Then where were you when his daycare had their 'Dinosaurs with Dads' event? Hmm?"

"I was sleeping—I had a long night, Brooke! You know shows don't end until 11 or midnight. And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You're home all day doing nothing! You could have been watching him!"

"Excuse me, I make sure you have a nice, clean house to come home to and 'relax' in, as you say."

"We have a maid service."

"Do you know how long it takes to vet them?"

"I'm not the one who has a problem with all of them."

"I wouldn't have a problem with them if my husband could keep his eyes in his head."

"Well maybe if you dressed up a little bit I wouldn't be looking at anything else."

"I have a three-year-old crawling all over me all the time! He grabs and pulls and ruins my clothes! If I'm out of his sight for a second he comes and finds me! It never ends! I needed a break from him! So what? You never see him! And the first thing you do when you're actually home is push him away and let him eat anything he wants!"

"I said I was sorry!"

"Don't tell me. Tell James. Tell James how sorry you are for hurting him. Tell your son how sorry you are for never being there for him."

"I'm working. Someone has to provide for this family!"

"And you provided the vehicle that sent him to the hospital. You're Father of the Year, like you've always wanted. Congratulations."

"...Forget it. I'll see you at home."

"Mommy, I'm itchy."

"I know, James, I know. But everything will be better soon, okay? Mommy will make it better. Mommy knows what you need to be healthy. Your daddy doesn't. Okay? Mommy will take care of you. From now on, I'll be in charge and make sure nothing hurts you ever again."

"Okay. Thank you. I love you, Mommy."

"...Excuse me, James says he's still itchy. Shouldn't he be feeling better by now?"

"Mrs. Diamond, as I've explained before—"

"Then you need to explain it again. Maybe using better words this time since you imply that I don't seem to understand my baby boy is suffering."

"...It will take some time for the antihistamines to go through his system but they're doing their job and he'll be good as new."

"Good as new. Really? James has just gone through a traumatic experience and you think he'll be the same after this? You think he'll just be able to forget? Like he wasn't harmed?"

"It's just an expression, Mrs. Diamond. With the right support, I only meant—"

"I knew what you meant. And it's okay. Because I'll be here for him and be all the support he needs. ...Oh and nurse? While you're here, I'd like to discuss James' weight loss options."

@raging-violets @myloveforhergoeson @witchofinterest @partiallypearl