LPfiction

Category Linkin Park

Tranquil by Devils_little_sister

Tranquil

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, I don't get paid and it is fiction


Note: I wrote this story a couple month ago. It was my first story written in English (I am German). Interesting site note: I am thinking about taking classes in creative writing. The professor I contacted wanted a sample of my writing to see if my English is good enough. What you are about to read is what I gave him... I think he liked it.

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Tranquil


“Take off your shirt!” Chester’s eyes widened in surprise when he heard the Emcee’s voice echoing in the hallway that led to their shared dressing room.

Chester was sitting on his yoga mat with spread legs stretching his lower back. The pain he felt through the last couple of shows was slightly increasing. So was the pain in his throat. Probably he caught a cold. Freaking European spring weather.


Mike entered the room with his phone and a little tripod in his hands. “We’re going live on Facebook in 5 minutes.” Without looking directly at the singer, who was still sitting on the floor irritated, Mike set up the tripod on a shelf in one of the corners of the room. Chester watched him closely. The strong yet gentle artist’s hands put the little stand in place. Chester used to love these hands. Watching Mike doing anything with these long perfect fingers of his always sent strange tingles down his spine. How could such terrible violence come from such beauty?


Chester had to look away. Mike had turned into a monster. And apparently not all monsters came with fangs and claws. Some came with perfect porcelain teeth, silky black hair and beautiful long eyelashes. Ten-million-dollar-smile. Hiding away the truth. The rotten truth behind that painfully perfect mask.


Chester hated his thoughts. He was disgraceful. He should not think like that about Mike. His friend – what a strange word to use for him. He owed Mike everything. Without him Chester would still be the poor local singer in Phoenix he once was. Or would he? There were people talking otherwise. First it was nothing more but a quiet humming in his head. You are so talented. Later the humming became louder; clearer. Words stated to form. You are beautiful. Not only on the outside but on the inside, too. You are an inspiration. You saved me. Chester Bennington, you are the reason I believe in life and myself. He never believed a word of it. He was way too humble, way too insecure. But the voices became still louder. It is a pleasure to know you. You are always friendly and you are so loved. Do you know how much you are loved? You are an extraordinary talent. You are one in a billion and you give so many people a voice, who have non on their own. Your voice. Your beautiful angelic voice. You are angelic. You must be made out of pure light; pure energy.


And at a certain point Chester was really close to believing it. He never thought he was special, but those voices made him feel special. It started as a tingle in his chest and ran trough his veins into his whole body. Sparkling and warm. He was worthy, he was precious.


NO, YOU ARE NOT. And then there was one voice that was always louder. A beautiful, deep, calm voice – with no doubt – but it was also gruesome. It was Mike’s voice. And Mike was always louder. Never did he actually say it directly, but he always found his ways to convince the singer that he was not good enough. He would be nothing without Mike Shinoda. The glorious, crazily talented genius with the magical hands.


“Did you hear me, Chester?” Mike was attaching his phone to the stand he just put up as he spoke. He still hadn’t looked at his bandmate. And Chester was unable to respond. Sometimes he just didn’t understand Mike’s way of thinking. Chester knew that Mike was smarter than him. Whenever the younger man gave him directions he didn’t fully understand, he blamed it on a lack of intelligence not on a lack of communication. The least thing he wanted was to look dumb. Of course, Mike knew already that Chester was not as clever as he was, but Chester didn’t want to prove it all the time.


“Hey, quit staring into the void. I want to be online before 5 pm.” Mike clapped his hands twice to wake the singer from his daydreams.


“Why- “, Chester tried to clear his throat. “Why do you want my shirt off? “


“Because we are going live on Facebook.”


“Yeah, I know, but why does my shirt have to come of for that?” Chester spoke in a thin voice. Mikes mood could flip rapidly from calm to furious. He really didn’t want to upset him. Especially not right before going live on social media. He remembered many times when they fought over something minor before turning on the camera. Chester always had to smile the upcoming tears away. By all means, he needed to avoid that today.


“I want the fans to see us warming up for the show. I play piano, you sing. And you better show them that nice, sexy body of yours. So take of that shirt.” Mike’s voice had an sarcastic tone to it as he came closer and pulled the soft fabric of Chester’s shirt. A violation of personal space. Mike always did that. Normally only in front of the camera to show everybody how close the two were. But lately Mike crossed all the borders.


He would come into the small showering area in which Chester took a shower after every show without knocking. Telling him how awful he mishit the notes on ‘Burn it down’. “It’s ‘doooooown’ not ‘dooooohoown’, Chester! How many times have we been through this? Sometimes I think you are doing this on purpose.” He would leave Chester with that. Exposed in more than one way.


“It’s pretty chill in here, Mike. I am cold. Let my leave the shirt on.” He stood up while he was talking, enlarging the distance between himself and Mike.


“Then you better think some warm thoughts, because that shirt comes off.” Mike smiled with these words. He wasn’t quite there yet. Still in control of his temper.


“I also think I might have caught a cold. My back has been hurting for days now and I have a sore throat.”


Mike’s eyes tightened as he looked at Chester. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”


“I thought it was no big deal. I mean…”


“You thought it was no big deal? Yeah, Chester, better leave thinking up to me. And when you feel sick, you god damn tell me!” His voice got louder. He was still not angry but very severe.


Before Chester could respond Mike spoke on. “Anyways. I am glad I took care for this. I got antibiotics and numbing spray for your throat, so we should be fine. And now take the shirt off.” Mike finished his talk with a trivial hand movement and turned back to his phone to get it set up for the live video.


“Mike, seriously, I am freezing, please!”


“Okay, Chester, let me put it like this:”. Mike again came closer. “Do you really think your thin little voice lately is enough to impress our fans. I think we might need a little bit more. All you have to give right know is that body. So show it off!”


Chester had made some steps back. For some reason he didn’t like Mike that close today. The warmth of his body, his smell. All that used to be so calming and exciting at the same time. It sent shivers over his body. Years ago. These dark eyes with that little spark of danger in them. The perfect white teeth hiding behind those pink, full lips.


Oh, the touch of these lips on his body. Everywhere. It was electric. The best he’d ever felt. In that one summer. Years ago. The whispered words. Like drunk confessions with a scent of painful sweet devotion. Mike’s greedy hands and the tight grip on Chester’s thighs. Spreading his legs. Mike took what was and always has been his. Was it love? It felt like it. Chester still wanted to believe that it was love. And it had turned Mike into the monster he was now. Having Chester through that summer over und over again took off all the limits. There was nothing Mike couldn’t get, if he really wanted it. Back then Chester loved it. He tried to find new ways to please Mike. Chester gave up control. And Mike gladly took over all of it. Chester’s body and his soul. He invaded it and made Chester his possession. That one summer; years ago. And it was still like this.


Chester faked a smile to pretend that Mikes rude words didn’t hurt him. “I take it off during the show, okay?”


“You better do. But you also take it off now!” Mike tried once more to get ahold of Chester’s shirt. But the singer took another step back.


Instead of chasing Chester around, Mike went again over to his phone to get the setup ready. The live screen was already showing. It was only one little button to be hit to get the video started.


“No!” Chester took a deep breath. “No, Mike! Not today. I will not take my shirt off.”


Mike gave a false laugh. “How dare you to talk to me like this? If I say you take your god damn shirt off, you do it without hesitation!”


Chester throat seemed to tighten up. He didn’t respond but crossed his arms in front of his chest as a small gesture of rebellion. He should give up and do what Mike told him. Like always. But no. Not this time.


“If you don’t take that thing off then I might need to do it myself.” And while speaking Mike took one step forward and pinned Chester against the wall only an arm length away from the phone with the Facebook live setup. Chester closed his eyes in anticipation of the cruel strong hands handling his body without any care.


Flashes of light appeared before his closed eyes. A nice afternoon. White curtains floating into the room with a warm summer breeze. Full lips pressed against his ear. “Take off that shirt. Show me your body. You are beautiful.” Soft hands carefully caressing the seam of his shirt. Then sliding under it. Skin on skin. Trading his own warmth for Mike’s warmth. “I want you. All of you. Forever!” Soft moans echoing through the room. Painting the walls with balls of light. Two bodies, one rhythm. Friction, sweat. Pleasure and a little bit of pain showing you that you are alive. “Say it, Chester! Say it!” Pleading and teeth meeting through hot violent kisses. “Say it!”


“I am yours!” Shared glances through tearing eyes.


“Mike, please stop. You are hurting me. I told you my back…”

“Shut up.” Mike was still trying to separate Chester’s arms. He was strong and brutal so he succeeded. “Look at you, working out seven days a week, 52 weeks a year and I am still stronger than you.” A vicious smile.


Chester didn’t want to give up. Mike’s grip around his arms was painful. These strong hands. Hands to caress, hands to hurt. Hands to comfort and hold and also to violate and destroy.


“Please, Mike! Leave me alone! Please!”


“I told you to shut the fuck up!” And all of a sudden these hands were not longer around Chester’s forearms. With one fast movement they were wrapped around his neck. The strong thumbs pressed into his larynx. Making it hard to breathe.


“Mike…” Chester’s eyes widened in agony. “Please…” But the younger man’s rage seemed to be out of control.


Panic was crawling up Chester’s body. What should he do? He looked around. The door was closed. In a distance he could hear Brad tuning and playing his guitar. Nobody would hear his screams over the full sound of the instrument. And screaming also seemed impossible with the hands of a monster wrapped around his neck.


Chester became lightheaded. The lack of oxygen messed up his brain. He reached out to hold onto something and his hand found the phone that was set up on the shelf. Was it an active decision to hit the live button on the screen? Hell, no! There was no room for active thinking. But it surely saved his live.


Right before he blacked out he saw how the door was pushed open. Joe was running into the room.

“Mike! Mike stop! Let him go!” But Mike didn’t react. Joe tried to pull him off his victim. He wouldn’t let go. Not until Joe called out a certain sentence.

“You are live on Facebook!”



- The End -


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Thanks for reading <3

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