LPfiction

Category Linkin Park

Dancing With Our Hands Tied by Alerion

Oh, Please Be A Cocky Cool Kid Pt. 1

HEY, Y'ALL! So I know what you guys are thinking. "Alerion, you're back with yet another whack ass story?" Lmao, the answer is yes!


On with the story!

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Chester circled around his bedroom for the third time, frantically. He could not for the life of him figure out where the hell he’d left his damn wallet. He sighed aloud. Every day, it was the same. He was sick and tired of it.


He stood in front of his walk-in closet, eyeing each individual item that he hadn’t checked (or knocked on the floor in the process of looking). His eyes landed on his Hugo Boss brown leather messenger bag sitting on the floor. He picked it up, tipping it over and emptying its contents on the carpet.


“Damn..” He muttered, becoming increasingly disgruntled with the situation.

Chester had absolutely no time for this. He had a meeting with his divorce lawyer at 2. He’d be damned if he missed it and have to be married to Talinda Ann Bentley for another second.


He went downstairs, into the guest bedroom, the kitchen, and the living room, only to discover his wallet was not there, either.


What if he’d taken it? He, being his 21 year old son Rob? Chester loved his son, he really did, but Rob was rebellious. He had a habit of thinking the world belonged to him and that he could take whatever he wanted. Without asking and without any thought to consequences. It was most likely just because he was young, Chester knew, but sometimes it made him wonder if he spoiled Rob too much.


And, of course he took something Chester needed right when he needed to leave.


Sighing heavily once more, Chester turned to the small wooden cabinet that sat by the front door. Could his wallet be there, in a convenient place for a change?

He swung the door to the cabinet open to see his small black leather wallet sitting pristinely on the top shelf. Rolling his eyes at himself, he grabbed it and shut the tiny wooden door. Before long, he was making his way out the door to his silver Mercedes GT S, the thought of arriving to his lawyer’s and getting one step closer to his divorce causing him to whistle a happy tune in the process.


(Chester Bennington, father to a grown up son, was clean-shaven with a slim, but muscular and well-toned body. A body that was adorned in tattoos and that he insisted on dressing in torn-up jeans, baseball caps traditionally worn backwards and cut up muscle t-shirts (nothing like the Alexander McQueen and Hugo Boss that filled up his closet). He had deep but friendly dark brown eyes that were the focal point of his handsome face and no one could tell that he was almost 42 years old, if not for slight wrinkles near his eyes and forehead. The credit is to his son for keeping him fit and young in spirit.


Rob, also known as “that Bennington kid”, loved to keep his father busy with adventure. Chester believed it was to put grey hairs on his head, but Rob always wanted his father around, because he really was proud of having such a cool, youthful dad.)

_________________________________________________________________________

Rob stood with his two friends, Brad Delson and Mike Shinoda in Brad’s garage, inspecting Mike’s brand new Ducati Monster 1200. The three boys loved motorcycles and Mike had been lucky enough to get one as a 21st birthday present.


“Man, this thing is fucking dope!” Brad said, sitting on the firm leather seat and pretending to rev the engine. “This must have cost your folks a fortune.”

Mike just shrugged. He honestly had been so excited to have his own motorcycle; he’d forgotten to ask about how much it may have set his parents back.


“It already needs new brake pads, though.” Mike said. “I want to go see if Mr. Hahn will fix it but…”


Mike trailed off and stared down at the wheels of his bike.

Brad cast a knowing glance over at Rob who was sitting in a chair in the middle of the garage.


“He’s probably really busy, anyhow.” Rob said, trying to comfort Mike, though he was even unsure why. He knew why Mike suddenly became quiet. Brad knew it, too.


Mr. George Hahn was a mechanic in their neighborhood, a long time friend of theirs. And Mike had been in a two year relationship with his son, Joe. Joe was a great guy, really. Good looking, intelligent, with a great sense of humor and good ear for music. Mike was head over heels in love with him and everyone knew it.


But their relationship had come to an abrupt end one year before, in a huge public spectacle. Joe, Mike, Brad and Rob had all been having drinks at a local lounge called Bull’s-eye LA, when Joe began to chew Mike out (LOUDLY and in front of EVERYONE) for staring at another man for just a little too long. Their friends were confused as they had seen nothing of the sort but Joe got pissed and stormed out, ending it with Mike in a 27 second conversation later on that evening.


He had said it was a guy sitting at the bar, but Mike knew better. He knew exactly who he had been staring at that night. Even thinking about it now gave Mike flutters in his stomach. Because this guy stayed on Mike’s mind, every day, every minute, and every second of every week.

Rob and Brad were completely fine with the fact that their friend was gay but they had no idea how to make Mike feel any better when it came to relationship woes.


Rob decided to change the subject. Pulling his lighter and a pack of squares out of his jeans’ pocket, he pulled a cigarette out of the carton and lit before saying,


“Are y’all up for beer tonight at the Bull’s-Eye?...Mike? Mike!”

Brad waved his fingers in Mike’s face to get him to pay attention, as he was just standing and smiling to himself now.


“Huh? Oh, yeah. But what about…”


“If Joe’s going to be there, he’s going to be there. It’s a popular place to hang out, one of the hottest in Los Angeles. You just gotta deal with it, man.” Rob said, standing up and handing his cigarette over to Mike.


Mike had visibly cringed at the actual mention of Joe. He took the cigarette and puffed thoughtfully for a moment. Then he sighed and said, “Alright, fine. But if Joe even mentions us getting back together, DEUCES. I’m OUT.”


They all laughed collectively.


“Deal, but you know, it’s not cool to completely ice him out. He was our friend at some point, too.”


“I know it.” Mike said and smiled sheepishly. All his friends had warned him not to date within their circle but….


It actually made Mike feel good that Joe wanted him back. Joe was a great catch, and anybody with any good taste or sense would sweep him right off of his feet. In fact, Mike had known of more than a few people in town that would do anything to romance the boxers right off of Joe.


But although he admittedly still cared for Joe, Mike’s mind had been tied up elsewhere for that whole year. That guy at the lounge.


Dayum.


Mike dreamt about this guy over and over again, so many times, they were too numerous to keep track. Every dream was so hot and steamy that they left Mike utterly discombobulated.


Mike shivered but caught his breath and said finally, “I’ll pick y’all up at 7.”

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Chester shook his head, blowing out an exasperated breath as he walked across the parking lot back to his car. He just couldn’t understand what had gone so sour in his marriage. When had Talinda become so greedy, so vindictive? When did he begin to detest her so much that he couldn’t stand to look her in the face? The face he once found so beautiful had become almost monstrous to him. She wanted everything with this divorce. All he had worked for and then some.


Thank goodness Rob was of legal age; otherwise she would probably try to take their son away from him. Not that Rob wasn’t fed a whole four course meal of fuckery about Chester when he was with his mother. Chester just knew that Talinda took every chance she could to fire shots at him whenever she saw Rob.


He hated to say it but he despised her.


Chester sighed loudly as he unlocked his car and sat in the driver’s seat. Even after everything that happened, Talinda still knew what to say and do, even the right facial expressions to make, to make him feel like shit.


Once seated, he began to back out his parking space but stopped when he saw how tired his eyes suddenly looked.


He decided at once what he needed was to go out. Look nice, have a few drinks, maybe meet someone...


No, what he needed now was to go the gym, punch something, blow off some steam. Being around people right then, after seeing Talinda’s smug face looking down at him, might have been dangerous.


He grinned at the thought. Beating the shit out of a punching bag while he imagined Talinda’s face on it sounded oh so satisfying.


Yes. The gym, and then he’d be off to work.

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Mike stood in his bathroom, facing his mirror and staring blankly at his reflection.


He exhaled. “You might be hot by everyone else’s standards but you’re never going to have a chance.” He thought to himself.


He ran a comb through his already perfectly coiffed, thick, black hair.


Why he doubted himself, he had no clue. He certainly wasn’t unattractive, with his shiny perfect hair and his soft dark eyes, He was a crowd favorite. But whenever it came down to the man he saw at the lounge, he felt so insignificant, so insecure. Small.


This guy was so out his league, for reasons he refused to think about. Mike shook his head. If he continued to think this way, he would chicken out and stay home.


He looked down at his white tee and light wash jeans. What was it? 1996? He needed to change ASAP.


He rummaged through his closet for a couple minutes before retrieving form fitting blue white striped button down shirt that showed his muscular upper body and torso and dark wash True Religions.


Mike took one last look in the mirror before deciding he’d never be satisfied.


He grabbed his vintage leather jacket from its special place on a hook on the wall and slid it on his body. He breathed in, loving the smell of the worn leather. Yes, this jacket was a crowd pleaser. Mike could’ve sworn it had some type of magic on it that got him laid every time he stepped out in it.


In fact, it was Joe’s favorite. He knew Joe wanted the jacket but wanted Mike so much more when he had it on.


But making Joe drool was not the objective tonight.


Mike was hoping his LA guy would give him a glance, really and finally notice him.


To see not just some kid who was barely old enough to drink.

But see that Michael Kenji Shinoda was all grown up.

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