Life is Funny Like That

Thertine. I got excited with descriptions, be nice

my INFP inspiration for Adrian's character. you can see the utterly raw and torn emotion all over his face and in his voice. it really hits deep when you hear his voice crack and see his eyes shine. this is perhaps the most emotional song i've ever found. so many layers to this. his voice, the lyrics, the messy sound, the attempts to keep the tears in. it almost feels illegal to see such a human and raw piece of a person.
the beautiful thing about this duo is how they put their everything into the performances as if it's the first time, and you can tell that it hurts just as much as the time they wrote it.

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Adrian's grip on Benny's hand only tightens as they approach the scene. Benny returns the tightness as his eyes instantly fill with tears. 

They land on his mother, her arms held up in front of her as a man raises his hand to strike.

Benny's dad.

In plain sight for everyone to see. But nobody cares.

The air is silent and stiff. And time is stopped as Adrian's vision fills with red.

"Hey!" he calls out, veins pumping hot, hot blood.

Benny stiffens beside him, gulping loudly. 

"Adrian, no. Don't..."

But Adrian doesn't hear. Fear consumes Mrs. Fleming's eyes as she turns to see her son with him.

"Hey, you dirt bag," Adrian glowers, his mind losing connection with his body. He doesn't notice as Benny yanks his hand up and down, begging him to stop.

The man turns, swaying with drunkenness. A red splotchy face, drooped with lack of a present mind faces him. Limbs hanging like dead fish, and eyes fogged with alcohol, he's to the point of tipping.

"What the hell you want?" the man slurs, fighting to stand straight. "Mind your own business, twerp." 

Adrian's eyes go wide as he sees the resemblance of the man who punched him in the ally. They are one and the same.

His fists ball against his sides. "Couldn't get enough of beating up innocent people? Had to do it to your own family, too?" His voice is sharp, disconnected from his vibrating limbs. They don't shake with fear, but anger. Utter, unbridled rage.

Adrian's words seem to have a grip on the man as his face twists in on itself, like driving a cork-screw through the center.

Mrs. Fleming reaches out to them. 

"No! Don't make it worse!" she screams, trying to catch hold of her husband as he begins to walk towards Benny and Adrian. Her hands latch around his arm.

"Let go," the man demands, smacking her face with the back of his hand. She falls to the ground, catching herself with her hands.

That does it. Adrian's handle on his anger crumbles under the weight. He shoves Benny behind him and steps forward to throw a punch to his face. 

His aim hits the mark. Fleming staggers backward with impact, but somehow remains upright. His low center of gravity is no help.

Adrian's knuckles pop through his skin as he clenches them tightly. They must have grazed his teeth. Warm blood trickles between his fingers, but he doesn't notice. His mind is drunk on a different power; adrenaline.

Although lost in the alcohol, Fleming's hands are battle-trained. Thick callouses cover the outsides of his hands from years of experience. He gains enough bearings to charge forward, letting all of his weight concentrate into his fist. It makes contact with Adrian's cheek, giving him whiplash.