Mikey Russell - Gilding the Lily

Number of posts : 532 Registration date : 2007-07-07

"Wait..." Mikey held up a hand, looking at his hopeful friend. "You want me to come with you on this jaunt to Australia?" Tom nodded, widening his eyes. They both knew that Mikey didn't dare say no. "Bearing in mind you're on medication." Tom pouted. "You have a gun licence." He nodded, a placid smile on his face. "Would it have anything to do with the fact your ex-band is heading off to Australia?" The smile grew on Mikey's face. "Knew it. As long as you don't kill them, Tom, I'm up for it."

Number of posts : 532 Registration date : 2007-07-07

"Your arms like towers, tower over me..." Tom sang, pressing down on the keys. Mikey leant on the doorway and smiled.
"Paramore, huh?" The younger man scooted over to make room for him. Mikey played with his hair absentmindedly. "Your twin send you the notes?"
"Totally." Tom leant into his arms. "It's not a bad song, despite the dodgy lyrics on that bit." Mikey nodded his agreement and wrapped his arms around Tom's waist.
We are broken, and we cannot move along...

Number of posts : 532 Registration date : 2007-07-07

Tom screamed again, and put his hands over his ears. Nick looked at Mikey nervously. He wasn't good at this. The singer stood up and made his way over to his friend.
"Don't touch me." Tom said through gritted teeth. He brandished the knife. "DON'T TOUCH ME!"
"You're going to kill me, are you?" Mikey laughed, staring at the knife that almost pointed at his neck. "Go on then." Tom glared at him and stormed into his room.
"You called his bluff." Nick said wonderingly.
Mikey touched his throat.
Not really.

Number of posts : 532 Registration date : 2007-07-07

"Mikey, you look happy." Johnny said sarcastically, opening the door. The singer glared at him, keeping a tight hold of Tom's shirt. The younger man had already tried to run out in front of a bus on the short walk to Johnny's. They hadn't thought to bring his pills. And the last time they had been in a car, Tom had almost successfully managed to crash it.
"Week two of him," Mikey jerked his head to Tom. "Taking his meds." The blonde man didn't seem to hear. A tiny beige puppy padded into the hall, claws clicking on the tiles.
"Puppy!" Tom, who had previously been almost into mania, whispered. His friends watched him curiously as he pushed past Johnny and followed Charlie into the living room.
"He was almost manic a minute ago." Mikey furrowed his brows. The house owner beckoned them into the room where Tom was sitting, Charlie leaping up to lick his chin.
"Puppy!" Tom giggled, cuddling it.

Number of posts : 532 Registration date : 2007-07-07

"Rachel... you..." Mikey stammered. Nathan Leone froze and looked between the two.

"Oh God." The twin said with realisation. Mikey ran out the room, ran out the house, ran down the road. He ran until he reached the flat, and opened the door, hiding in his bedroom. He screamed into the pillow, feeling too angry to cry. He shook with supressed rage and punched the bed. He heard Tom knock on the door.

"Mikey? Can I come in?" The blonde whispered, putting his head around the door. Mikey stayed still. Tom sighed. "Ok." He gently wandered over to the bed and stroked his friend's hair, before closing the door again.

*

Hours later, Mikey got up. It was dark outside; the clock read three am. He pushed open his door and walked to Tom's room. He watched his friend sleeping, tears in his eyes. The singer slipped into the bed, just lying next to him. Tom rolled over and cuddled into him, mewing sleepily. Mikey stayed awake.

Number of posts : 532 Registration date : 2007-07-07

"She dumped you?" Tom raised an eyebrow, crossing his legs. Mikey shrugged silently, slumping down in the seat across from him. "But... why?"
Mikey looked at him.
"Because you haven't... ok, that's just ridiculous!" The guitarist stood up and draped himself over his best friend, pecking his lips. "Did this have something to do with it too?" Mikey nodded. "Then you're well shot of her." Tom kissed him again.

Number of posts : 532 Registration date : 2007-07-07

"Oh no, I have a fear of Subway!" Jon threw his hands up mockingly. The singer glared at him.
"At no point did I ever claim to be sane or normal." He shoved his friend, a slight grin on his face. Because, yeah. It was weird.
"There's a difference between French and English Subways." Tom separated the two, sharing an exasperated look with Nick. "C'mon, I'm hungry." He dragged them into the restaurant.
So far so good. Mikey ordered his baguette, split a soda with Nick, because he was a total skinflint. They settled down on the tall seats (Tom was a bit insecure about being only 5"11) to eat, talking and laughing about things only they would understand.
He felt the hairs on his neck rise up as a group of youths, around the same age as them, congregated outside. he dismissed it as paranoia and living in Chicago for too long. They walked in, and immeadiately began to surround the group.
"I'm bad at French." He said immeadiately. They were trying to talk to them. He jumped as a hand touched his abdomen and grabbed his wallet, shoving it in his bag. He didn't know why he did that. No one noticed Tom's bag on the chair. One of the boys said something.
"What are they saying?" Tom asked in confusion, looking at Jon, the resident French speaker.
"They're saying you look like Jack Croakum." Nick shot back, quick as a flash. They laughed, and the French looked at them in confusion. Tom scowled at the mention of his scene kid lookalike. Suddenly, the French kids dispersed.
"Tom, they've just taken your MP3." Jon said, eyes widening. The blonde froze.
"Seriously?" It took a while to sink in. Mikey looked at the the youths and saw the pink headphones clutched to a white t-shirt. They ran out of Subway, grabbing some of their scene cronies to help.
But it was too late. They'd gone.

[Ugh, I hated reliving that.]

Number of posts : 532 Registration date : 2007-07-07

"She doesn't want you." Mikey almost bit through his tongue to avoid crying out. He spun across the room, landing on the floor, blood dripping down his cheek. Another punch, another kick, more venemous words. The thirteen year old hid his head, tried to protect his face. "You're worthless." The man sneered. "Worthless." He shut the door.

Mikey pulled himself into a sitting position, too numb to cry. The door opened again and he raised his eyes expectantly, but it wasn't the man. His mother's latest case was standing there.

He's almost backwards Mikey. He can't talk, doesn't understand anything. I'd think he was faking it, but his eyes are so blank, his face is so blank. No one can be like that. I don't think he'll ever be a normal boy, but please. Just watch him. Tell me if he does anything different.

But he didn't look backwards. The twelve year old made his way slowly over to Mikey, an ice pack in his hand. Mikey blinked as the boy sat down beside him and gently pulled his face towards him, applying the pack.

And his eyes.

Those grey blue eyes weren't blank at all. They were rushing with conflicting emotions as he cleaned Mikey up. Mikey moved his head and the boy yanked it back. "It'll hurt more if you move." He said in a distinct Chicago accent. The older boy stared at him.

"But..." He stammerred. "They said you were backwards!" He staggered upright, aiming to tell his mother. The boy grabbed his arm.

He pressed a finger to Mikey's lips. "It's our secret."

Number of posts : 532 Registration date : 2007-07-07

"Don't you see?" Tom pushed back his thin hair and looked pleadingly at Mikey. "I can't be another statistic, I can't!" Mikey bit his lip. "Ich kann eine andere Statistik nicht sein! ¡Yo no puedo ser otra estadística! Я не могу быть другим статистический!" He covered his face, breathing hard.

"Was that... Russian?" Mikey gasped. The younger boy nodded forlornly. "And you say you've never been... Anyway, Mom suspects that there's something going on Tom, that's why you're here!"

"Don't tell anyone!" Tom screamed. "DON'T!" He raised a hand. "I trusted you. And I don't trust people anymore."

The older boy's heart began to hurt.

Number of posts : 532 Registration date : 2007-07-07

He looked so small on the hospital bed.

His thin chest was stretching to breaking point as he tried to breathe, eyes closed. A black bruise ringed around one eye, his ribs were bandaged. His arm was in a sling, his collarbone set. Mikey reached out a hand and stroked the twelve year old's pale cheek. There was no sign of recognition.

"Bird bones." He whispered lovingly. The younger boy's eyes fluttered open at the words. He tried to smile at Mikey, but he couldn't.

"I'm sorry Mikey." The blank look returned as Ms Russell walked into the room. "This has spoilt your birthday." Mikey shook his head, a lump rising in his throat. "Well, I guess I'll have to order your present. What do you want?" He looked again at the fragile boy in the hospital bed.

"Tom." He choked out. "Please, Mom. Take Tom home."

Number of posts : 532 Registration date : 2007-07-07

"Why won't you talk to anyone?" Mikey lay on his bed and stared at his foster brother. Tom stared blankly back. "No one's going to hurt you anymore, Tom." He stood up and pressed his thumb to the still painful bruise on the older boy's cheek.

"No more pain, huh?" He asked bitterly. Mikey rolled his eyes and pushed his hand away.

"No one's going to hurt you. It's me he hates. I'm her blood son. The reminder that she was married before." He lay back on his bed again. "You're fine. I'm not."

-

Mikey choked back his pain, pushing himself further into the corner of the room. The man turned his back for a minute.

"Stay there." He mouthed to the terrified Tom, hidden under the bed. Blood dripped from his cheek. "I'll be ok. Stay there!" The man spun around again, brandishing the baseball bat. He brought it down and Mikey's arm shot up to protect himself. "Oh my God!" He screamed in pain as it connected, shattering his arm. He dropped to the floor, holding it tight. His mouth dropped in horror as Tom ran from under the bed to the door.

"Mrs Russell!" He screamed in his childish voice. "Mrs Russell! Mom!" The widow ran up the stairs as her boyfriend brought the baseball bat down again. Mikey whimpered. He felt light headed. "Don't hurt him!" Tom screeched. "Don't hurt Mikey!"

Tom had the baseball bat. He didn't know how he'd got it. Mikey watched in a haze as the small boy swung the bat around, and it connected with the man's head. He dropped like a stone. The auburn haired boy pushed his pain to the back of his mind.

"Tom..." He whispered. "He's dead. You killed him."

Tom stared at him, blood dripping down his arm from the bat still held aloft, an ugly expression on his face. "Don't hurt Mikey." he repeated.

Number of posts : 532 Registration date : 2007-07-07

Look at this, I've gone and broke down.
Another miss,
And anyone can see me laughing now.
Another failure, I've bought myself.
I can't stick together.

Mikey ran a hand through his dreadlocks, biting on the pencil. He ignored the teacher as she came in, preferring to continue working on his lyrics. Someone tugged his dreads playfully and he raised his head, prepared to shout. "Nick." he sighed in exasperation, moving his bag off the chair. "Don't do that. I told you."

"You know Christenson and his lot are calling you and Tom white trash?" Nick asked, sitting down next to his friend. "Saying you're trying to be black." He watched the older boy carefully, wondering if he would snap. Mikey just shrugged, chewing on his pencil again.

Counting Out the Ways,
That you'll always help me,
You're someone that I call friend.

"Tom wrote them." He said in answer to Nick's unspoken question. "Well, the chorus at least." He handed the notebook over to his friend. The younger boy drummed on the table, working out a beat to them.

"They're good for a thirteen year old." He observed, giving the notebook back. The auburn haired boy nodded.

"Mikey Russell?" Their conversation was interrupted by the teacher. Mikey raised his hand in acknowledgement. "Nick Scimeca?" The blonde waved absentmindedly, mouthing the words to himself as he tapped Mikey's pencil on the table.

"White trash." Someone snarled, tugging at the older boy's hair.

"Charming." Mikey muttered.

When I know that it's you I want,
When I haven't got a thing.
You'll be waiting for that moment to come
When I know that it's you I wanna kiss.

Mikey scanned the grass, spotting Tom curled up by a tree, reading a Russian book. He grabbed Nick's collar and dragged him over. The blonde was wholly immersed in the book, his corn rowed hair shining slightly in the sun.

"Tom?" The auburn haired boy flopped down beside him. The youngest boy gave a grunt, holding up a finger. He turned the page, still reading. Mikey and Nick exchanged bored glances as they waited for him to finish the chapter. He closed the book.

"Done." He looked at them with his grey eyes, rubbing his face. Nick waved, settling down beside Mikey.

All the times, we felt together,
Are now the times we laugh forever.
And talk about the ways I grew to love you,
And all the things I held above you.

"Mikey..." Tom slipped into the room. "Can you take them out?" He motioned to the cornrows. The auburn haired boy put down his guitar with a grunt and motioned for the younger to move closer. His quick fingers untied the bands at the bottom, slipping them into a container on his desk.

"They call you white trash too, hmm?" he asked, undoing them carefully. Tom made an agreeing noise, wincing as Mikey tugged at his hair. "Ignore them." The older boy began to run a brush through the curls. They rose several inches, crackling with static. "Umm... You might want to wash it?"

Going back to what?
All the ways I was once,
And singing sweet songs in my head.

"504 Plan?" Nick asked in confusion. "What's that?"

"For people with emotional of physical disabilities that prevent them from doing one or more major tasks." The quiet blonde said, leaning his chin on his knees. "I've got one. Because of the panic attacks. It says I'm permitted to leave the classroom without asking, to go to a safe room I chose." He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "What do you think?"

"I like it." Adam smiled. "It's... different, y'know?" The youngest boy rewarded him with a smile and looked at the other two. Mikey nodded.

The last member of their band shrugged. "Why not?"

Close your eyes.

Tom curled up next to the older boy. "I love you Mikey."

Number of posts : 532 Registration date : 2007-07-07

"I... uh..." Mikey avoided Tom's look. The blonde flushed and hid his face. "I'm sorry Tom, but I don't... not like that."

"No, I'm sorry." The thirteen year old choked out. "It's disgusting." Mikey grabbed his shoulders and made him look.

"No. It's not disgusting. It's not disgusting at all, Tom, and I want you to listen to me." He stared seriously into the younger boy's eyes. "I don't care what your father said, he wasn't right. It's perfectly normal. Nick is. He always has been." Tom flushed.

"My father said I had a good mouth." He whispered. Mikey put a hand to his mouth.

"I don't ever want to hear you say that, ever again." He snarled. "From now on, you're Thomas Russell, ok? You're my baby brother. You forget him, it never happened."

» Mikey Russell
» Mikey Russell's Revenge List...
» Lesson for Mikey...