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Post by benjamin daniel greene on Apr 1, 2009 13:13:42 GMT -5
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jump in your car like you're ready to ride
YOU CAN LIVE WITHOUT IT
EVERYBODY'S MESSING IT UP DON'T TALK ABOUT HOW EVERYTHING IS FALLING APART
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In a pair of loose basketball shorts and a white wife beater, Benjamin made his way towards the school's weight room. He wasn't big on the whole working-out thing like quite a few guys at the school were, but he was chock full of restless energy that he needed to get out before his rehearsal later that evening. Whenever Ben was feeling antsy he always did something to get his mind of whatever it was causing it. Most of the time it was by jogging through the grounds but, unfortunately for him, it was raining too hard for a jog. He didn't want to risk getting a cold just before he was to perform his quarterly piece for his theater teacher. So, instead, Ben ventured down to the weight room. It wasn't that he was a stranger there, but he definitely couldn't say he felt at home amongst all of the equipment. Especially when there were others who looked to be hardcore weightlifters -- that could crush him if he even so much as looked at them the wrong way.
Nodding politely in greeting as he passed, Ben made his way towards the sand bags hanging at the back of the room from the ceiling. He'd only ever used the bags a handful of times, but the treadmills were all taken and he didn't want embarrass himself with the dumbbells. Though, he'd probably embarrass himself with the punching bag but no one seemed to be paying attention to that area so there was a chance that he'd go unnoticed. He wrapped the chalk-covered linen around his knuckles to protect them, securing the strips securely. Sticking the ear buds from his iPod currently attached to the athletic holster around his upper arm, he switched it on. The pounding beat of Breaking Benjamin poured into his ear and Ben started to work out with the punching bag. The music helped him to keep his energy up and soon he got down a rhythm he could easily keep without concentrating on it.
His mind began to wander and soon thoughts he'd tried to keep at bay started to creep up to the forefront. Thoughts of his parents back at home in London made him subconsciously increase the rhythm of his punches. Having not been home the majority of the time for the past several years, Ben hadn't known that his parents' marriage was in trouble. And, for all intents and purposes, Andrew and Tabitha had kept their son in the dark on their sinking ship of a relationship. At least, until this past summer. Ben had gone home for the holiday, as he did every year, only to find that everything had fallen apart in his absence. His mother had moved out of their ancestral townhouse in Mayfair into a downtown flat with her new boyfriend -- who also was, apparently, her personal trainer. Even worse, his father was completely apathetic about the whole thing. The two didn't even bother to tell him they were getting a divorce -- he'd had to find out (even if he hadn't already drawn that conclusion from the separation) through a mistaken phone call from his father's attorney.
In his own quiet way, Ben withdrew from his parents. Being an only child, he'd always had a close relationship with them. Now, he wanted nothing more to do with them than what it took for his tuition to be paid. He was hurt and angry and felt betrayed more than anything. He was still in the mindset that parents were meant to be together forever, even if the statistics showed otherwise. They at least could have told him themselves, he thought. Within the first week of being at home, Ben went to stay with his grandparents in the resort city of Brighton. His parents were hurt that he left them but Ben rather thought it was justified with the way he had handled things with the divorce. Not that he told them so, of course. In fact, he'd been ignoring their calls for the last few months. In his mind, they'd alienated him by tearing their little family apart so it was well deserved that they learned how it felt to be shut out.
It was only when a song came to an end and he heard the smack of his fist on the pleather of the punching bag did he realize just how hard he had been hitting. Breathing hard, he paused, holding onto the bag to brace himself while he tried to calm himself down. It seemed the work out was actually doing the opposite of what he had intended it to do. Ben closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the smooth surface of the bag.
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Post by camille on Apr 2, 2009 0:53:41 GMT -5
and you're like the mirror i've yet to see.
Out of the list of things he never had liked in his life, mornings had to be one of them. Sure, he didn’t look at everything and say ‘retarded, retarded, stupid, ridiculous’ without even checking them out first, but things like waking up didn’t go through well with him. Spread out across his bed, sleeping in was what he wanted to have planned but his roommate did not seem to agree with him. Having thrown a pillow at him, Benjamin woke up instantly, his head straining to see what had hit him. Rubbing his eyes, he took the pillow and chucked it right back, keeping it nice and hard. Having played baseball when he was younger, he was a pitcher for years; the effect of it never seemed to wear off completely. Dragging himself out of bed after another five minutes, Ben couldn’t go back to sleep after waking up, it just was not possible at anytime. Slowly making his way to his dresser, he pulled it pulled it open and then reached in. Taking out a black pair of loose, long shorts and a white wife beater of his own, Ben walked out after pulling everything on. Not even thinking about doing his hair, he was going to have to jump in the shower after working out anyways. This was his weekend, morning routine. Well, somewhat, as he did it when he had nothing planned so that it burned off time and kept him in shape. He wasn't a girl obsessing over her weight, but a guy who just didn't want to get fat.
Stopping outside of the entrance, Benjamin grabbed the bag he had slung around his shoulder and set it on a bench. Taking in little metal zipper within his grip, he slid it across and opened up the bag. Taking out a black iPod, he placed the headphone in his ear and stuck the iPod where it would not fall or break. Beating his head along to the beat of Everyday Combat by Lostprophets, he had a variety of music on his iPod but only a certain genre he would listen to while working out. It was the truth when people said music effected how you move, as the beat of the music got to your thoughts if you were not concentrating on anything else. Picking his bag back up, Benjamin zipped the bag right back up, making sure everything was inside before putting it right back around his shoulder, no energy needed. It looked as if it was a big bag but it had next to nothing in it. Entering the building, he noticed right away that it was more crowded than usual, leaving less of the normal exercise equipment for his own use. Dropping his bag off in the locker room, he made his way out to where all of the machines and weights were held for the public to use. Looking passed it, which did not matter much at all really. It was not the end of the world, after all.
Not overly bothered by the new sprout of people who seemed to want a workout, Benjamin started to walk around in search of something he could actually use. Ben was flexible and would try new things, though he knew not to get cocky and try the weights that were way too heavy for him. Hell, he had seen people do that around here and the result was not pretty. Not sure what exactly he was going to go on, Ben made his way to the back of the room at a slow pace, hoping something would come open as he did, but nothing did. What his luck, first woken up early and second, no machines were available! Letting out a sigh, he needed to use patience if he wanted to convince himself not to leave now. About to just sit down, Ben found a brunette in the distance. Grinning widely, Ben couldn’t mix this guy up for anyone. His best friend seemed to be across the gym in his view, working out at the punch bags. Turning, he walked slightly faster towards him, not meaning to but having a cause because of the beat tapping each note into his left ear, as his right headphone could be found hanging down, enabling him to hear out of at least one ear. He didn’t like not knowing what was going on around him in a room full of buff, well a majority, of men.
Not interrupting the punching going on towards the bag hanging from the wall, he crossed his arms and observed until it seemed that his friend was done and over with. Never before had he thought Benjamin could punch that hard. Sure, he wasn’t so one of the guys with no muscles it was just he had never seen him like that before. Not being overly muscular himself, he did have a well built body that he was trying to keep by this working out; otherwise he would just be doing something much more useful with his time. “Still with us, Ben?” he asked, a teasing tone coming out automatically though he was truly asking a question also. He didn’t want to hear a yes if he wasn’t, as that would be lying and another thing he hated was liars. He avoided it as much as he possibly could himself, not liking hypocrites either. Waiting, he stayed with his shoulder resting against the wood piece of wall standing there, one foot holding him up, the other sort of propped up onto a toe with no pressure being applied to it. His arms were crossed and eyes on the friend in front of him. It was a casual way to find him anytime.
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Post by benjamin daniel greene on Apr 4, 2009 2:07:10 GMT -5
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jump in your car like you're ready to ride
YOU CAN LIVE WITHOUT IT
EVERYBODY'S MESSING IT UP DON'T TALK ABOUT HOW EVERYTHING IS FALLING APART
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"Bloody effing hell, man," He exclaimed, startled at the sudden presence near him. It had been one of those rare moments in which Benjamin was truly all wrapped up in himself. He wasn't usually one to be so unaware of his surroundings that he couldn't sense someone approaching what he called, to use a cliche, his personal space. If there was one thing Ben wasn't it was self-absorbed. Well, except for this particular moment. He supposed he should have known that his best friend since childhood would somehow be around when his mental stability was a little iffy. It was just a little creepy that he was there at the exact moment in which hopeless thoughts began to eat away at his self-imposed calm. For whatever reason, the fact that anyone was there when he very possibly could have lost it irritated him. Ben was one of those few who internalized their feelings to an extent that should another person happen to glimpse them, it would have felt like a gross imposition.
An instant later, he felt guiltier than sin for thinking in such a manner. It was only a right git who got angry with someone simply for being there. What could he say about himself, really? At least he'd been able to stop the thoughtless comments that seemed to fill his brain from the moment he realized there was someone else around. But Ben wasn't that way. Indeed, he'd never been one to lash out -- for any reason. Hence, the poor punching bag he was currently leaning up against. He glanced sideways at his friend before straightening and turning away from him. How could he stand there so casually? Benjamin wondered at Ben's ability to appear nonchalant about practically everything. Truth be told, he envied that quality about his best friend. Swiping at his sweaty forehead with his arm, he continued to stand with his back to Ben. He knew he was waiting on an answer -- that it probably wasn't sitting well that he'd ignored it thus far.
What did he mean 'still with' them? Physically, he hadn't gone anywhere. Well, besides to Brighton and back while avoiding London for all he was worth. Mentally? Not so much, probably. It was true that his mind certainly hadn't been into his classes at the academy. But these days he was hardly into anything at all beyond the required amount of participation. Chewing on the inside of his lip, Benjamin fiddled with the strips of linen around his knuckles. The onslaught of confused emotions from the moment before were slowly being tucked neatly away at the back of his mound. He was regaining control of himself again. Control was good, it was safe. Letting out the breath he'd subconsciously been holding, he finally turned his head to look askance at his friend. "You could say that, I suppose." He stated simply, still not turning fully to face him. He wasn't quite ready to face anybody yet.
If he'd had his way, he would have ended his work out and then hied himself away to some far corner of the academy for a little while. But he was hardly ever getting his way these days, it seemed.
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Post by camille on Apr 5, 2009 2:09:25 GMT -5
and you're like the mirror i've yet to see.
If there was one thing that this Ben never did it was take the tone of voice people used against him into consideration at a time like this. He was the type that looked past it for the better, not even commenting on it for Ben’s own sake. He didn’t know what was up but it was odd that he had not been noticed there. Usually one could naturally sense the presence of another body around them but it seemed that Ben had not even noticed him standing there until he spoke. Debating on whether to go further into the topic or not, he decided it was better not too – for now, at least. Ben was always there for people so if Benjamin did need to talk, he was going to be there. ”Good song?” he asked, raising his eyebrow, giving Ben the opportunity to get away with a free excuse. It was easy giving him this one because he had had both of his headphones in his ears and the music turned up pretty darn loud. Having his own on a quiet level now, he decided that he didn’t want to be rude and have it loud incase he missed something in the conversation he was currently having with his old-time friend.
Ben was surprised at to how calm he seemed to be staying at the present time. Usually he was very irritable after thinking about anything to do with his sister. She was his weakness, something he could not handle to think about for too long because of worry that was bottled up inside of him. Since he would not let it out, it seemed that it grew each time he did allow any thoughts to escape from where he encased them. Usually you would think drinking wasn’t that bad in your teenage years but when it was someone you cared about and that was all they did, literally, how couldn’t you be worried? He currently had no clue where his sister was or where she was last heading, all he knew was that she did not want his help and every time he tried it only got worse. Hating to even think it, Ben hated on himself every time he thinks of the words ‘gave up’ just like that. Because really, it was what he had done with his sister and though he hated to admit it, he didn’t want to give up, but had too. Every effort anyone gave was pointless and a waste of time. Nothing would work. Now, all he could do was hope real hard.
Meaning mentally with his words, it was obvious since he was looking straight at the boy that he was still right there in front of him and in sight too. Getting the urge of asking him what was wrong stronger and stronger, he didn’t want to start of seeing him by mentioning something that Ben obviously wasn’t willing to share with him yet, or ever. Being himself, he wouldn’t let it go but he would find the perfect time to mention it, try and slowly get it out of his friend so that he could help in any way that he was able. Of course, not all problems were able to help from him but at least if Ben needed someone to be there he could be, but not completely if he was left in the dark. It seemed that Ben himself was not the only one with things bothering him and that was what made him come to his decision. ”Let’s go to the courts, shot some hoops?” Ben suggested, looking around the crowded gym once again. He doubted anything would clear up soon and really, working on a punching bag was not what he wanted to do. ”One on one could be interesting.” he added, laughing lightly.
Basket-ball was his favorite sport, always had been. He played on a few teams growing up and practiced every summer when he went home – if he did. Knowing they were actually open, Ben would not suggest walking all the way over to the other side of the building if he thought they were being occupied by someone other than them. He was in the mood to move around, run and actually do something that he had not done in awhile – basketball was it. Waiting to see what Ben thought about it, if he didn’t want to do it he would accept that and not go, but it was always good leaving the idea out there for him to know it was available. He knew what Ben could do and what he couldn’t do so it was one of the reasons he never just jumped right ahead and say “let’s do this!” as no one was good at everything in the sports category like he seemed to be, not to brag or anything, but he did seem to have a talent in most of them. His weakness, if you knew him well and wanted to beat him, would be challenging him to a game of volleyball. It seemed impossible for him, not being able to move the ball this way and that without too much power. It was a habit he couldn't break.
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Post by benjamin daniel greene on Apr 8, 2009 1:08:37 GMT -5
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
jump in your car like you're ready to ride
YOU CAN LIVE WITHOUT IT
EVERYBODY'S MESSING IT UP DON'T TALK ABOUT HOW EVERYTHING IS FALLING APART
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The nerve-wracking interlude that had had Ben trapped inside his own mind was slowly receding. His tense muscles began to relax, his slow, rhythmic breathing pattern becoming easier and easier to maintain. The needles-and-pins feeling he'd had the moment before was gone. It was terrifying, at least for him, to feel so out of control of himself. Not that he would have gone off and done something crazy or anything. But the panicky kind of feeling had...overwhelmed him. It's what usually happened when he thought of his parents and their pending divorce. Benjamin supposed he just wasn't used to the thought yet. Maybe, subconsciously, he didn't want to be. He’d always seen his family that were undividable -- always solid as a rock. Because that’s what his parents had led him to believe they really were. Then again, nobody wanted to see their family break apart. Especially if, in your mind, there was no reason for it. That it was just a lame excuse not to have to deal with your problems. Which was exactly how he saw the whole situation.
Ben had hoped that by refusing to see or talk to his parents since they handed him the news would force the two to see sense. See that they belonged together, as a family. Void of awkwardness and arguments about who would visit whom on what holiday. He’d seen enough of that sort of dysfunction amongst the families of his friends. Ben had always prided himself on having the sort of family that stuck it out, that loved each other. He couldn’t really have been wrong for the past nineteen years of his life, could he? Maybe he really was deluding himself into thinking his family had been ideal he’d made up in his head. Maybe he hadn’t seen this coming because he’d refused to see it, to see anything that threatened the ideal. Was he that stubborn? Ben shook his head, shaking away the disturbing thoughts as he did so. No doubt his friend thought he was losing it completely by all the weird silences that he kept imposing on the moment. He ran a hand through his thick brown hair, mussing it up further. Letting out a long breath, he turned back around to face his friend.
“Yep,” he replied shortly, concentrating on switching his iPod fully off and pulling out his ear buds. Though he knew that Ben could see that there was something up with him, he was grateful that he was being given a free pass to brush it off. Carefully wrapping the wires around the thin device, he shrugged at his friend’s next question. Basketball wasn’t really his forte, truth be told. He knew Ben loved it though, whatever his reasoning. And, somehow, trying to pass a ball through a hoop sounded oddly intriguing at the moment. No doubt he would be trounced, but it would be relieving to actually have to concentrate on something other than himself and his thoughts. Because, let’s face it, his thoughts were what had driven him down to the weight room and the poor, abused punching bag in the first place. He’d as yet been unsuccessful in finding an activity to take his mind completely off the problem at home -- not to mention the number of missed calls on his cell that doubled each day. He didn’t know how much longer he could avoid them forever, or send them messages through his grandparents before even they grew tired of the entire thing. But what else could he do? If he tried talking to his parents himself right now he would most definitely say something he’d regret.
Basketball could, actually, be the answer to his most pressing problem. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he grabbed the bottle of spring water he’d brought down with him and took a long swig. Swiping at his mouth, the corner of it turned up in a wry half smile. “Sure,” he replied, capping the bottle once more. With hem of his white wife beater, he dabbed at the sweat on his forehead. ”Better then hanging about down here, yeah?” he motioned to the now half-empty weight room. He cocked his head slightly as he studied his friend, a thought suddenly occurring. “What are you doing down here, anyway?”
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