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Post by Adam Trumper on May 1, 2008 13:03:38 GMT -5
Gentle music came from the streets of Brooklyn, Adam was strumming his guitar absent-mindedly. He let his thoughts take control of his mind, as his fingers gently plucked the strings of the instrument he knew so well. He let his fingers take control, to perform the natural talent he had so much of.
Almost two years ago he was in the same situation, a street musician. Not that he minded, he was able to play and get money for it. It was just the last time he played on the streets, he met Rose, his life drastically changed after that. Rose had a drug addiction, morphine to be exact. After seeing such a relief she had after taking the drug, Adam became interested. He wanted a taste of relaxation, just after one dose, he was hooked. If he could go back in time that would be the one thing he would change, the drugs. He could've had such a great career and life if he didn't involve himself in drugs. But no, he had the be the idiot he was and screw up. That's all he was, he was just one big screw up.
Not even a year ago, his life changed even more drastically. Rose died. She overdosed and died. He knew then he had to change, he gave up the drugs. He went through the painful withdrawl alone.
He shook himself out of his thoughts, as he accidentally plucked the wrong chord. He let out an exasperated sigh, as he continued on with his song. That was his gift, his talent, his glory. The one thing that didn't change was his love for music. Everything else changed, but his guitar and his passion stayed the same. He was too busy concentrating on his music that he didn't notice someone watching him.
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Post by Dreamer on May 3, 2008 0:08:23 GMT -5
Dreamer walked through Brooklyn, quiet and shy as usual, arms folded across her chest in a protective way, face almost expressionless. Yet there was a hint of reverence in her eyes. She couldn't get her mind off of what the headline had read only recently. The one about the Texas Gang escaping and how they were more than likely out of the state.
She knew them. She knew they were out there looking for her. What could she do? She couldn't say anything to Jack and the other newsies. She had already caused too much trouble for them, and she was trying to stay out of it for once in her life.
Besides, trouble had costed the lives of Dreamer's parents.
As she walked down Flatbush street, she saw a street musician playing a guitar. It had been a while since she had even heard music. Leaning against the wall, she watched him. He had wavy blonde hair that came just above his shoulders, and eyes full of a sort of sadness.
He lost someone he loved. Dreamer could see it immedietly.
It was not long for the music, despite the wrong chord she heard in the middle, to take hold of Dreamer. She closed her eyes, opening her mouth a little, letting her quiet voice just sing what it was feeling.
Will I lose my dignity? Will someone care? Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?
And she continued singing that over and over again, under the impression that it was to herself
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Post by Adam Trumper on May 3, 2008 0:29:35 GMT -5
Adam's green eyes looked up to the sky for a brief moment, as he continued to play his guitar. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Somehow that always seemed to help him capture the mood of the song he was trying to portray. If he gave himself over to his music fully, it always seemed to be better.
Sometimes he wondered why he had to be such a mess up, why did he have to choose the life Rose wanted? It didn't end well at all for her, it destroyed her actually. Why didn't he have the backbone to say 'no' back then? Was it his constant fear of rejection? He's already been rejected numerous times. Why could one more time be different. If Rose wouldn't have died, he probably would still be hooked on the drugs. No, he would probably be dead by now.
That was one thing Adam struggled with was his regrets and his fears. They always seemed to haunt him, and it made him almost scared to live. He was scared he might make another bad choice that would cost him his life. He hated having what felt like the world on his shoulders. But what could he do about that?
Will I lose my dignity? Will someone care? Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?
He was slightly startled when he heard a soft voice singing. He looked over to see a young girl leaning against the wall with her eyes closed, just singing. He blinked, this was almost his life story in just a few short sentences. He listened to her closely as he found a melody line and began to play a few notes on his guitar as he sang along with her. "Will I lose my dignity? Will someone care? Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?" His raspy, tenor voice sang out.
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Post by Dreamer on May 3, 2008 0:38:47 GMT -5
Will I lose my dignity? Will someone care? Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?
Dreamer just continued to sing, keeping her eyes closed, but tighter. The music. It just took totaly control of her mind. She never even noticed that the guitar was coming near to her, and that a new voice added to the melody.
It had been a while since she had last sung. Since her parents died, no magical note left her lips until now. It was all she wanted now. It was all she needed.
A tear streaming down her cheek, she took a breath, and just continued singing, scaling down a few notes and then back up, smooth as glass and clear as water. Full of emotion. Full of her dark past. Full of her sorrows and her pain. Full of sadness.
Will I lose? Will I lose my dignity? Will someone care? Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare? Will I lose?
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Post by Adam Trumper on May 3, 2008 0:50:49 GMT -5
Will I lose? Will I lose my dignity? Will someone care? Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare? Will I lose?
Adam continued to watch her, just watching what the music did. Music is a powerful thing, it can raise emotions and heal. Music was almost as powerful as love, if not more. Love could heal as well, but not as well as music. Music was medicine for the mind and soul. Love could betray you sometimes, whereas music won't. Music wouldn't betray or leave you broken hearted, it would help heal your broken heart. Just like Adam's broken heart was being mended day by day. He lost one of the most important things in his life, his love. He still had his music, that could help heal him.
He strummed the last chord, therefore ending the song. There was silence between the girl and him. He smiled slightly, "Are you okay?" He asked gently, not wanting to scare her. Sometimes that happened to him. He would be in an almost trance and someone would come up and speak to him, making him startled and scared. One of the things he hated was the feeling of fear.
Even though he has never seen this girl, and she was a complete stranger. He felt as if he had a certain connection to her, it made him feel more at ease.
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Post by Dreamer on May 3, 2008 0:57:00 GMT -5
"Are you okay?"
Dreamer jumped a bit, gasping a little, and finally opening her eyes, to find the guitar player right next to her. Then she noticed the tear that was rolling down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away.
"Yeah," she replied softly, almost in a whisper. "I'm fine, thank you. There's just a lot on my mind lately. That's all...Th-that was really good playing. I liked it. It was very pretty...How'd you learn to play like that?"
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Post by Adam Trumper on May 3, 2008 1:08:30 GMT -5
"Yeah,"
Adam stepped back slightly, knowing he startled her. He didn't know what to do, so he held onto his guitar tighter. He couldn't frighten his guitar. He swallowed and licked his dry, cracked lips.
"I'm fine, thank you. There's just a lot on my mind lately. That's all...Th-that was really good playing. I liked it. It was very pretty...How'd you learn to play like that?"
He nodded as he listened to her, "I understand that." He muttered in response to her comment about a lot being on her mind. He understood that almost perfectly. He couldn't remember the last time he had carefree thoughts. Probably the day when Rose died, when he came to get more money to buy drugs with. That's when he found her, dead. That was the last time he was carefree, and didn't have the weight of the world on his shoulders. He didn't have the sad air about him.
His green eyes were lost in space as he thought about his thoughts. He finally snapped out of it when he heard her ask him about how he learned how to play. He smiled slightly as he bowed his head in a short nod. "I taught myself the basics, and my parents paid for lessons for me." He said, deciding it was wise if he didn't say why he quit or anything.
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Post by Dreamer on May 3, 2008 1:13:31 GMT -5
"I taught myself the basics, and my parents paid for lessons for me." Dreamer smiled a bit, still keeping to herself. "You're very talented," she commented. "...Hey, I'm sorry if I was distracting you. I don't know what came over me. It's just...It's been a while since I sang, really," (Sorry if that was too short. Didn't know what else to say  )
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Post by Adam Trumper on May 3, 2008 1:19:07 GMT -5
"You're very talented,
Adam smiled, "Thank you, that means a lot." He wasn't used to being complimented as much. Back in Chicago people would tell him he was talented, but he usually blew them off. He didn't really care about their opinions until he got older, that's when they started to matter to him. He didn't want his ego to have a field day and become bigger and bigger. That only led to disaster, it always did.
"...Hey, I'm sorry if I was distracting you. I don't know what came over me. It's just...It's been a while since I sang, really,"
He shook his head, "No, its fine. Music can do that to you. I don't mind at all." He gave her a small grin, trying to remember the last time he smiled this much in one day.
[No its fine, mine wasn't exactly the best.]
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Post by Dreamer on May 3, 2008 1:27:43 GMT -5
"Thank you, that means a lot."
"You're welcome," Dreamer gave a short nod to him, with a kind smile.
"No, its fine. Music can do that to you. I don't mind at all."
Dreamer shook her head a bit, almost smiling.
"No, I think you should mind," she replied. "Like I said, it's been a while since I sung. I probably sound like a frog right now...I'm Dreamer by the way,"
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Post by Adam Trumper on May 3, 2008 1:38:18 GMT -5
"No, I think you should mind, Like I said, it's been a while since I sung. I probably sound like a frog right now...
He grinned, "No, its fine. I honestly don't mind at all. You were feeling the power and emotion of the music, right? Then that's all that matters. Sound can be important, and it sounds good. But emotion is what makes the most successful musicians." He said, having a sudden urge of wisdom come over him. Something that didn't happen often because of his bad choices, he was usually made out to be an idiot. From his choices in his past, yes, he was an idiot. But it didn't mean he wasn't smart, he went to school with his siblings. He considered himself to be a very wise man, book wise, he just lacked common sense.
"I'm Dreamer by the way,"
He nodded in response, "I'm Adam." He said. Most likely, her name was a nickname. He didn't think a parent would name their child Dreamer as their real name.
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Post by Dreamer on May 3, 2008 1:52:39 GMT -5
"No, its fine. I honestly don't mind at all. You were feeling the power and emotion of the music, right? Then that's all that matters. Sound can be important, and it sounds good. But emotion is what makes the most successful musicians."
Dreamer thought about it a bit, and nodded.
"I see your point," she replied softly.
"I'm Adam,"
"Adam," Dreamer replied. "That's a nice name,"
Adam. It was a real name. Not a newsie nickname. It had been a while since Dreamer had been called by her real name. She almost even couldn't remember it.
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Post by Adam Trumper on May 3, 2008 11:55:47 GMT -5
"I see your point,"
He grinned, glad to know he made an impact. That was something he loved, when he made an impact on someone. Maybe it wasn't a strong impact, but even the small ones would do. He was glad if his music touched someone, he was glad someone could live without fear and was able to be carefree.
"Adam, That's a nice name,"
That was the first time somebody has ever complimented his name. There were too many Adams in Chicago, and probably even more in New York. He never thought twice about his name, he just knew he was named after his great-great grandfather. Now that he thought about it, maybe his name was nice. Or maybe that was just him thinking about his name. Yeah, it was probably the second one. "Thanks, you're name's nice too." He replied.
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Post by Dreamer on May 3, 2008 12:36:53 GMT -5
"Thanks, you're name's nice too."
Dreamer kind of winced in her smile, and shook her head.
"It's just a nickname," she replied. "I changed it a while back,"
She missed hearing her name. But she had to get used to it. She changed it for her safety. For her well-being. So the others wouldn't find her.
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Post by Adam Trumper on May 3, 2008 14:00:12 GMT -5
"It's just a nickname, I changed it a while back,"Adam nodded in response, not asking anymore. He guessed that she didn't want to relive that past, just like him. He didn't want to relive his 'glory days'. He wanted his glory days to stay far, far away from him. Besides, he wasted them, they were gone because he wasted them. He wasted his opportunity to become successful, he was still in the same position he was career wise. He finally decided to say something to her, wanting the conversation to go along. "Nicknames are fine, sometimes they're better than real names." He thought about a nickname for himself, and he couldn't think of anything. He liked his real name, so it was fine with him. If he had a terrible name, then he would want a nickname. He liked his name, and was almost glad he had his name. (Sorry mine's really short.  )
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