Band Oneshots

Through the darkness, my shining star(Sami Yaffa x Michael Monroe)

In this Sami has hurt his hand/fingers and mentions of self harm. Please don't read if it will upset you!

Everything feels grey and empty, like moments before dawn on a misty day. Sami has always likes watching the sunrise, its just so pretty, however he hates the verry few minutes before the first rays peek over the horizon, painting everything beautiful golden hue. He's always preferred evenings anyway.

Not that it matters right now, as he has any idea what time it is.

His finger hurts, the painkillers must have worn out sometime when he was sleeping. He hopes he'll get some more, even thought the doctor said he needs to feel the pain to heal. So he doesn't accidentally make it worse, but what does that matter, he thinks he makes everything worse though, accidentally or on purpose, so it shouldn't really matter. He tried to play last night's show on a half dose and kept screwing up which is worse than the injury itself. Not perfect enough.

He feels like he's slipping, spinning out of control. Shattering like a glass. He just needs- something. Anything.

The room's a veritable mess. Housekeeping has tried valiantly to tidy it up every day of course, but he keeps picking up this or that item for a minute before dropping it wherever he's standing.

Too tired to do anything but lie in bed and stare out the window, until the call comes and the circus begins again, fly to whatever town is next on the itinerary, soundcheck, drink until numb, play for four hours, fly back while drinking more, afterparty, sneak off to his nice and quiet room, sleep, wake up, start over. There's no show today so he has no reason to get out of bed at all.

Sami loves touring. Really he does. Just maybe not so much right now.

He turns the tv on to flip through the channels a bit. The first few bore him, but by the third he isn't even paying attention to what is on anymore. He considers going back and checking again but it seems too much work, so instead he turns the tv off and drops the remote somewhere among the stuff strewn around the bed. He exchanges it for a book he usually loves but that he now is sick of before finishing a single page. He lets it fall from his hands back onto the bedsheet.

Maybe he should call management and see if he can arrange something or someone. Preferably as sadistic as possible. He just wants to feel something other than disgust with himself for acting like this in the first place.

If Michael finds out there'll be hell to pay though, and he doesn't think he can deal with a fight now. Michael has always dislikes such games in general and refuses them altogether when Sami feels bad. Says that it isn't what he needs. Whatever. He disconnected the phone anyway and he really doesn't feel like fixing it.

He brushes some hair behind his ear and grimaces at the greasy feeling. Right. He'd been too tired to wash yesterday. And the day before. He can at least do that today.

Getting up seems impossible at first, but now that he has a goal he manages to crawl out from under the covers. There's a bottle of water on the nightstand. He wonders who left it there, but unscrews the cap and takes a few gulps in the hope it will dim the dull throbbing in his temples.

The hotel suite's bathroom is ridiculously fancy, all marble surfaces and brass taps. Sami revels in the luxury normally, it's not often they can actually afford the expensive shit. Today however he thinks he'd get a kick out of ruining it, He won't though, now there's a waste of money. He turns the taps to start filling the bathtub.

He hesitates when he goes to lock the door. Sami supposes the one other person who knows where he's hiding out is still welcome, even if he hasn't bothered to show up yet. So he leaves it unlocked, and walks over to the hotel room door to unlock that as well. Just in case.