" How did such a sweet little minx like you end up here? Tell me darling what's your name?" He spoke with his thick accent.
His eyes dark and piercing through me in a way I'd never felt before. How they burned right through me.I gulped nervously be...
. I was gonna release this originally on my birthday because it was the full moon. But I'm taking my time. _________________________
Jimmy's POV
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We were now back at the hotel it was dark outside. It was just Robert and I outside of the building.It was about nine pm now, the full moon above in the sky shining down on us. The sky was clear tonight which was perfect for what I had in store for Misty and I. The stars from above marked perfect constellations. So many of them seeable by the bare eye. I'd been waiting for this moon phase for a bit. The moonlight painting a light down on us.The pale moonlight forging a path before you. Something magical. Perhaps would be more so in the country but for now I was in the city of New York.
I found myself looking up into the sky taking in the almighty presence of the moon. Such a lonely thing it was, dark and isolated.Round and a pearly shade of white with grey spots I assumed to be craters in the moon. I found myself enjoying the fullness of it. The peaceful nature of it.
Today was something else I'd say. Peter grew upset with me because he was worried about me being unable to write the music and play. The interviewer was pesky about my personal life. My hand was fucked.Also it didn't look good for the pictures we took because I was supposed to be holding up my guitar and I couldn't do it too well. They kept asking about my hand at the interview and I just lied it away. They didn't need to know I punched some guy square in the face because I found my Misty in his arms.
My left hand is the one I hurt. It was also the one I normally used to slide up and down on the strings of the neck. It was just too much for my hand for now. I was a left handed guitarist. So much for playing at the moment. I went to the hospital today and found out my hand was actually broken and not bruised like I thought. I also found out that it could take three to six weeks to for it to heal. Which upset not only Peter but myself even more. What the hell was I to do? Furthermore troubling my mind.
I hated it really, I loved playing and this injury was rather holding me back from doing so. I shouldn't have punched the guy cause now look at me. I felt useless from it. It didn't just affect me but all of us in general. All of us were the glue to what made us as a band and with one injured it affected us all. We weren't as one without the other. A puzzle couldn't be finished unless all was put together. Something like this was like that.
I reached for one of my smooth long 100s from my cigarette tin. I brought the slender round cigarette to my lips before bringing the flickering burning flame to the tip. I inhaled the smoke as the edge of it caught a flame before putting the lighter down. The once rolled dry paper now turning into embers. A flick of the cigarette letting a shower of embers flow to the ground. Once lit embers disappearing into the blackness, dissolved by the cold.
