Try-Hard, Sin Harder

Prologue

It was spring when I met them. 

 I've never seen cherry blossoms before, but I'm sure the air smelt like them. Sweet like melted honey, the air enveloped me in a fragrant aroma. Flowers carpeted the winding knolls, plotting them with shades of merigold between blades of emerald. Golden rays of sun set the morning dew alight like starlight, a blanket of mist fading with the night. In the distance, I could hear the sound of miniature rapids splashing along the edge of a stream. I could hear the sound of their voices softly singing. Their voiceless song told me their stories, and I listened to the sound of their sins. 

 The first was greed. A boxed smile matching warm brown eyes fueled by a light that burned to no end. A passion and desire for what he could not have, so great it drove him into states of crazed possession. He cheated, he lied, and he stole. But the one thing he wanted most, always seemed so far from his reach. It was the one thing he could never bring himself to steal, out of fear it might shatter at his touch. 

 The second was a glutton. Soft eyes and voice warmer than the chocolate he indulged in. The constant hunger gnawing at him turned relentless as the days turned to nights. The nights to weeks, and the weeks to months. He would have dined on this feeling a thousand times over, but always stopped himself short. The feast was before him, but there would be nothing left if he lost control. He would starve before losing what was most precious to him. 

 Third was pride. A leader, a narcissist, and a calamity waiting to occur. He walked with a lion's stride, and few dared to challenge his roar. Despite himself, he held another in a higher regard. If he were a king, then they were a deity. No matter how many others he surpassed, he would always come second. They were perfection, and no amount of aptitude would ever allow him to stand beside them. He hid his shame behind his narcissism, and his pain beneath his crown. 

 Fourth came wrath. He was an enigma, a ticking time-bomb. One moment stable, the next staining the room in crimson. The world seemed to collapse at his presence, and those around him cowered in fear that his soft exterior might fade away to reveal a monster beneath. But he kept himself on a short leash; chained up to prevent himself from wounding the mockingbird. He stayed trapped within the cage so the songbird could be free. Far enough to never harm, but close enough to hear the devastatingly beautiful melodies of the forbidden song. 

 The fifth was envy. He shifted between lies, both told to and by himself. To him, he was flaw incarnate. Nothing could ever allow him to walk with his chin held high. His face remained in a permanent scowl, and shaded in green or pink. The reflection in the mirror frowned back at him, and people rarely saw him smile. But to him, there was one who stood high above the rest. A person who succeeded his expectations beyond envy, but left him in a constante state of awe. He had no hope of ever achieving such faultlessness. He simply did not think himself worthy of them. It slowly killed him inside. 

 Sixth was lust. Party, drink, fuck, repeat. His desire knew no bounds, and his body had no limits. No one could deny him, no will was strong enough to turn him away. His siren's song was hypnotic, but for one it fell on deaf ears. It irritated him. The one person he wanted so devastatingly, was the one person he could never take. The sickening feeling that formed in his chest prevented him from crossing that line. Each touch was agonizing, and a brutal stab against his instincts. They kept him so sane it drove him crazy. He was both stable and losing his mind. 

 The final was sloth. The weight of reality sagged his shoulders, and his steps were slow and strenuous. To say he was tired would be an understatement. His level of exhaustion went beyond bone-deep, it radiated from his very being. Procrastination turned the expectations into unachievable dreams, his priorities faded into broken promises. No amount of caffeine could relieve him of this burden, and he no longer had the energy to try. But as the seasons melted into one another, he found the one thing that was worth putting effort into. A comfort to hold on to, and someone to rely on. He was afraid. He knew all too well that nothing lasts forever, and that something like this must be fickle. So, he held on to it. His fading energy holding them together had become his life line. But the closed circuit was damaged and cracking. 

 The seven songs of the sins told me of the bonds linking us together. Now, I'm waiting. As the last petal falls to the ground before me, I wait for their voices to sing to me once more. 

 I've been waiting since the moment they fell apart.