Post by beck tucker on Aug 14, 2008 0:31:43 GMT -5
BECK MALACHY TUCKER,
TUESDAY, AUGUST 2008[/font]
( click here for clothes )
I walk this empty street,
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams.
Where the city sleeps,
And I'm the only one and I walk alone.
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-----From the day he was born, it was obvious to everyone – even himself – that beck tucker was not someone who would end up married with six kids in suburbia. no, that sort of lifestyle was meant for someone kind, gentle and caring. not cold, vindictive and violent. sure, some people ended up with children when they were better off locked up in a cage for life, but he knew early on that he couldn’t – and wouldn’t – end up with that sort of life. it was much too…dismal. and potentially terrible. well…no. It would be terrible definitely; without any room for error. either way, he had decided during his long hours locked in that fucking closet-like room, that he wouldn't grow up in a steady profession that required many hours, a never-ending cell phone call and absolutely no social life whatsoever. a doctor or maybe a lawyer. Something along those lines. He wanted to lead the kind of life that insisted of twelve to fourteen hour days around the clock, a posh apartment in downtown New York, formal office attire and the confident stride on the streets, a blackberry permanently attached to his hand. well, from what he had witnessed of Los Angeles so far…that wasn’t overly likely. not with the people he had met and suddenly cared for.
-----There were not a lot of interesting people around these parts, no one that beck could care to have a conversation with. marie had been so annoying lately, bitching at him about their so called daughter and expecting him to become a father to the girl out of fucking nowhere. how was he even supposed to do that? he was happy that he hadn't seen noah or macon at all, not that he was avoiding them, but he really didn't feel like being face to face with either of them. kamilah blackport was the most interesting person he had met so far. not only was she hot, but he could actually have fun around her without thinking about fucking her brains ouot. yes, the girl could carry on a conversation with him and keep him entertained. this didn't mean that he was not constantly thinking of her naked, he did. they had a nice time in and out of the sheets. now here he was, waiting patiently for her outside the club. The long boardwalk of cement with ocean on either side, junky shops and fast food stands. It was touristy, and something right out of a cheesy pamphlet, but it had been him who suggested they meet there for their…date? this was not a date at all, but hanging out was too casual and a full-on date was too formal. beck didn't do dates.
-----Spent about a half an hour to get ready and began the lengthy walk towards the club. What? He had his drivers licence, sure. And that half-restored 1970 GTO sitting outside the motel, but he had been in the mood to walk that chilly afternoon. weird; even for him. Pushing his long, spidery hands into the pockets of his coat, and increasing his pace to a quick jog, beck blew out a sigh of mixed exasperation and relief as he saw the long sidewalk coming into view. about. fucking. time. mentally reminding himself to never walk anywhere in this town again, he began to look around for kamilah. what time had they agreed to meet again? Whatever. flickering his dark eyes downwards to the silvery watch on his left wrist and blew another sigh. he hated waiting for people who were late; but whatever. moving his body forwards to lean his forearms against the metal railings, beck turned his gaze to watch the endless stretch of steely-blues and greys of the ocean on that particular day. with the mixture of overcast skies, and a chilly breeze, it was definitely a late California winter afternoon. no doubt about that. musing over the mindless thoughts circulating around weather and such topics, the texas native soon forgot about waiting, and simply fell into a thought-induced trance. it was strangely calming. staring out to the ocean in – almost – complete silence, and simply falling into thought. the thoughts of everything being so much bigger than him, how everything in life was so trivial, like teenage drama, trust issues and drug problems, compared to everything else. terrorist attacks, war and poverty. basically everything that no body in this bubble of Los Angeles, California didn’t like to think about; let alone associate themselves with such things. he didn't really care about this shit either, and he found it quite humorous that he was actually considering the idea
-----Arching one of his eyebrows at this, beck finally glanced back down at his watch. “Come on, girl.” his voice patient, but slightly bored, he didn’t waver his black gaze from the ocean, only to continue thinking to himself in that trance. what a ham, right? whatever, he thought. he was not much for waiting around, so he decided to go inside and make her look for him. it was only fair right? he was waiting for her for a whole 10 minutes. he walked in and sat by the bar, ordered himself a scotch and lit out a cigarette. contrary to popular belief, many people like beck tucker weren’t nearly as smooth or sophisticated – yet completely malicious- as everyone seemed to think they were. he was no real exception to this rule. despite his smooth, dangerous words and sophisticated and powerful sort of movements, he was just like everyone else: unconfident, awkward and confused. trust me, everyone that lived here in california. were all secretly like that. sure, they didn’t want to admit it; but who would, really? every morning, he would stare at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, and simply stare into space. like he was trying to contemplate the sort of façade that everyone expected from him. but still, each and every day, he continued to try and figure out what that façade really was. stern but concerned? violent and abrasive? sweet and tame? animalistic? it seemed like everyone expected something different from him so they would feel more comfortable. however, he was not a people pleaser and he had no idea on how to start to care for it. be was cold and cruel; the first to throw a punch, and the last one to throw a punch. he knew he was a bastard. liked to use people more than most, and didn’t show a shed of regret for many of his actions. he embraced the usual profile that went with his personality; the multiple hook-ups, the drugs and the drinking…it was all “him” and he was not going to apologize for it
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status • finished
tagged • kamilah
notes • i fail
words • 1406
currently • annoyed at my computer!
