࿇ ACT I. ⁰ ♬𝗹𝗹'🄴🅁🄾🄴.

✩  ⌬ ،  ❴ THIS YOUR ID? ❵ ▕  ⁑ @albimnx:   [  coda is seeing red when he lunges forth, something deep within him snapping like the string of a violin.  ermine's ate at the foundation of his walls like a termite, crawling under layers of skin that coda didn't think possible to wiggle through so effortlessly.  suddenly he's taken back to that studio again, scene unraveling as his life falls apart with each word that leaves his instructor's mouth.  IT'S SILENT,  YET GRATING.  it reminds him of a symphony:  4'33'' by john cage.  the room is the piece itself,  not a single note played amongst the two of them;  his instructor is the world surrounding him, yet every syllable is excrement fed to him on a silver platter,  not the melodies of nature aria spoke so fondly of.  HIS EARS ARE RINGING STILL, bleeding out whilst he cries for the torment to stop.  IT DOESN'T.   he is helpless.  a child exposed to the many horrors of the world. coda thinks himself foolish to carry around this anguish for so long, over something he knows is thought to be miniscule. BUT HOW MINISCULE IS IT, WHEN YOU'RE CONVINCED YOU'RE OF NO WORTH AT TEN YEARS OLD? (“you're lucky you're angelo's kid.”) he doesn't know, but the burden seems to finally lift off him once he's got ermine's neck in a vice grip. (it doesn't.)  EVEN NOW, HE PLEADS, begs for the discordance to stop, eyes puffy and red like he's been sobbing for hours. IT'S WHAT MAKES HIS HANDS SQUEEZE TIGHTER, WITH NO SIGN OF LETTING GO.  he's not thinking.  ONLY ACTING IN ACCORDANCE WITH HIS BOTTLED-UP RAGE.  ]    SHUT.   UP.   I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANOTHER WORD COME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH,  SO /PLEASE/, STOP..    (..)    you'll never understand it.