Here's my thingy for Leif if he was a starving artist grunge rocker trying to make it in Seattle: [hider=Leif Modern AU] [i]January 25th, 2019 - Seattle, Washington[/i] “...And I, can’t take this anymore. The way that I, See you with him. Because girl, I know you’re not happy. And I, can see it in your eyes. So don’t try, and hide these lies. Because girl, I know you could be happy. And I, hate the way you cry. Cuz baby, why do you stay? Why don’t you runaway? Why don’t you runaway with me? Cuz I can’t take this anymore. No, I can’t take this anymore. No, no, I can’t take this anymore.” Leif’s voice echoed gruffly from the microphone. There was a small gathering of onlookers in the rundown bar of [i]Irish Democrat[/i]. A few people cheered, and the rest clapped before turning back to their pints of beer. He sighed, he had put so much work into advertising on social media, but it seemed that he couldn’t draw the crowds like he had hoped. He moved to stow his guitar in its case, and slung it over his shoulder. “Hey you did a great job up there,” Sam said. Sam was the bartender, and he had seen the early days of grunge, he continued to encourage Leif even when he felt like he wasn’t good enough. “Yeah thanks Sam.” Leif brushed off the compliment, not feeling the good about himself. “Want a pint?” The older man chirped. “Nah. I’m gonna head home.” “Alright. I’ll see you next Friday?” “Yeah I’ll be here.” “Alright. Take it easy kid.” Leif headed for the door, and stepped out in the dark of night. He reached into his leather jacket and pulled out his pack of smokes, putting a cigarette between his lips, and inhaled slowly. The curl of smoke rising up like an ethereal tendril under the orange glow of the lamplight. His mind wandered, thinking of how far he had come since dropping out of college. Who needed a Liberal Arts degree to make music? Not him. The repercussions of him dropping out reverberated through his family, his mother was heartbroken, and his father was livid. In fact, his father refused to speak with him now. On the other hand, his mom would call every now and then to check up on him. As a last act of rebellion, Leif headed north from Berkeley, selling what belongings he had to buy an old Volkswagen van. He headed for Seattle, the heart of grunge music. If anyone would find him and help him turn his hope of becoming a solo grunge rocker into reality it be there. His mind wandered to Deidre, he wondered how she was doing these days. The last time he saw her was in California, the day she broke up with him. Leif stamped out his cigarette and headed to the back parking lot to his van where he climbed inside, stashing his guitar in the passenger seat. His hands came to rest on the steering wheel, his eyes locked on the brick and mortar building. “[i]Leif… I can’t keep doing this.[/i]” Deidre’s words echoed in his head. “[i]Baby, no. Listen to me. I promise I’ll be a better man. I promise I’ll change.[/i]” “[i]You always say that! You say that you’ll change, but you never do.[/i]” “[i]Deidre, baby. Look, I’ll quit drinking. I’ll do it for you. I’ll get a job, I’ll make us money. I swear. Just-[/i]” “[i]Stop. Just stop. My heart can’t take it anymore, Leif. All you tell me is lies. That’s all I hear coming from you. You’re-[/i]” “[i]Baby please. One more chance. That’s all I’m asking. Gimme one more chance, and I’ll prove you wrong. I swear. No more booze, no more pot, no more acid, no more cheating.[/i]” “[i]I want to believe you, but I can’t. I can’t keep putting myself through this, Leif. The semester is over, and I’m going home to my folks.[/i]” “[i]You’re fucking full of yourself Deidre. The only reason why you’re going home is to be with Alex. I’ve gone through your phone, I’ve read your messages on FaceBook with him. You think I’m such a bad guy huh? Well you’re not so perfect either you fucking slut.[/i]” “[i]Get the hell out of my apartment, or I’m calling the cops.[/i]” He remembered how she had started to cry at his words, and it broke him. How could he… how could he treat her like that? What the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just treat her like she deserved? Deidre had flown home to Illinois that weekend, and he had left for Seattle. He still followed her on Instagram, and he had been right. She had left him to be with Alex. At least she seemed happy. His gut twisted in guilt, he could have been a better boyfriend to her. He realized how hard he was gripping the steering wheel of the van, his knuckles had turned white. Hot tears stung his eyes, he grit his teeth in frustration. God, he was a piece of shit for a human being. Leif switched the ignition over, praying that his van would start. He still needed to replace the alternator, but he didn’t have the funds for it quite yet. The Volkswagen rumbled to life, and he pulled out of the parking lot, his headlights cutting a yellowed path on the cracked pavement. He was headed for the beach. It took around forty-five minutes for him to reach the sandy shores of the beach. He put the van in park and grabbed his guitar case, heading for the sands. It was colder here on the beach than it was city, but of course it was, it was January for Christ’s sake. But the cold would bring some clarity. His combat boots sank into the sand as he walked out towards the water, finding a spot to sit on the sandy knoll. He tucked the case between his legs, resting his chin in the groove as his eyes watched the waves crash on the beach. He must have sat there for a good thirty minutes before lifted the guitar out of its case. He settled it atop his thighs, his long legs stretched before him, the grey-green skinny jeans were worn through at the knees. Gently, his fingers drifted across the strings, his mind too scattered to focus on any song he had in mind. The cold winter wind bit through his shirt, but he didn’t care. His melancholy had that kind of effect on him, it made him not care about how he felt internally, even if he struggled with the turmoil surrounding his heart. Ah. That was it. “Your kiss, is like poison sweet as wine…” Leif nodded to himself, that was a good start, the spark of creativity flared within him. “Your kiss is like poison, sweet as wine. Moving slowly down my spine. Your hands are as cold as death, Baby where have you been? Give me one last kiss, Something I won’t miss, when you’re gone. Here I am, with lips sewn shut, Backtracking the needle and thread, Of these words in my heart, Cuz it never meant anything at all.” [/hider]