Misery Loves Company

Track 42: Nineteen

Someday I hope to make it clear to you that success is

Not determined by leather bound books and ink on paper

But rather the passion that I have found out of heartbreak and anger

See, I'd rather die at my fullest, poor, but free to roam

Than let an office drain me slowly for the sake of a home

'Cause I watched your endless intermission

An actor trapped in mediocrity, gave up on your ambitions

And your convictions compared to mine

What a rigid dichotomy

I am not who you were at nineteen

I am not the man you want me to be

I'm not a warrior, I am fragile, I am weak

I'm not a warrior, I am not you, I'm barely me

I am not who you were at nineteen

I am not the man you want me to be

I am not, I am not

I am not my father's son

-Nineteen x Movements-

Misery Loves Company

By: theinkslingerr

Track 42: Nineteen

Off the narrow two-lane road, the houses were few and far between; their driveways long and winding like black snakes made out of asphalt.

Beechmill had an excess of well-lit roads compared to Lakeside. If it weren't for the full moon and some of the houses' lights, I wouldn't be able to see a thing. I glanced at Rocco, who seemed to be navigating the area just fine. I guess he came here often, but how often? Did he get panicked calls from his grandmother every week?

What if she was the mysterious caller he was constantly hanging up on? I frowned at my train of thought. Unlikely.

My stomach roiled as my hold on the grab handle tightened. Rocco's nonna had been hysterical. Afraid. And that was always unnerving to witness— even if you didn't know the person. It stirred something in me, so I could only imagine how Rocco felt. He hadn't uttered a single word since the call ended, and his jaw was perpetually clenched as he ran red lights and disregarded the speed limit.

I wanted to say something useful. I wanted to comfort him the way he'd just comforted me. But since I didn't know what was going on, I didn't know where to begin.

Rocco sucked in a breath and held it before turning onto a particularly long driveway. I guess I was about to find out.

The car slowed in front of a cobblestone house with burgundy shutters. It was two stories tall, had a garage, and was surrounded by naked trees and bushes that probably looked beautiful during springtime.