Killer Concepts

Ravi Part 2: .......FOUR....THREE

This part is also a rewrite.  Not a lot of changes but I felt they help dive the story more clarity.  If you ave ready this part before, let me know if you agree.   I look forward to your omments.

              

        Ravi left the apartment and made his way down to the basement of their dorm building. According to their contract, they were supposed to adhere to a company mandated curfew unless they were attending a company sanctioned affair. They also were not allowed to wander the streets unless chaperoned by their manager. Nevertheless, the boys had found a certain basement window that afforded secure access to the outside. The window opened onto a dark alley that ran along the side of the building. There were no CCTV's to monitor their comings and goings. Still, Ravi hitched up the collar of his jacket as much to hide his features as to protect his face from the frigid winter night. The icy night wind cut through the gloves he wore so he stuck his hands deep into his jacket pockets.

           For an hours Ravi prowled the backstreets and alleys of Seoul. These were the places he had called home before he became part of VIXX. He could find his way around blind. And blinded he was by the red rage that tore at him.

           He had worked so hard for this chance. It was his chance to make his music heard. His music, not that piece of fluff that the executives foisted off on them as their debut song.

          Collaborating with Leo on the music and lyrics and the others for visual concepts, they had produced a sound that was unique to K-pop; uniquely theirs. None of them wanted their group to become just another cookie cutter boy band.

          The first song they offered to the executives was rejected on first hearing. The tempo of the musical score was upbeat. The executives like that. The problem was the lyrics. Totally at odds with the music, the lyrics spoke of the pain of a dysfunctional relationship. How the couple tortured each other, on and on, with their love/hate relationship. To make it worse, the video concept included, of all things, vampires.

          "Too dark," they said. "Too painful."

          Their second song concept didn't fair any better. The executives questioned how the idea of a man making a robotic replica of his dead girlfriend could catch the projected audience's attention? That concept didn't fly either. The song centering around a voodoo doll never even made it to the listening stage. Instead they were stuck with 'Super Star' and a playful video game concept.

          Ravi ground his teeth in frustration. For weeks he had smiled and laughed, dance and sang to their commands. They had the power. They called the shots and like Pavlov's dog, he performed every time they rang their bell. Meanwhile his own music lay in a box gathering dust.

          A growl rumbled in his throat. Do this, go there, smile, laugh, their professional lives were in the hands of people who viewed music as a commodity. Buy, sell, trade, it was nothing but business to them. They had the money and that gave them the power to dictate his life, his musical soul. And he was the one who had signed it all over to them.

          Not since he left home at twelve had Ravi given over so much control of his life to anyone else.

          Ravi grew up hard. His father was an abusive alcoholic. His mother had abandoned the family around the time Ravi turned six, leaving him to the mercies of his father. But his father knew no mercy. Nothing Ravi did ever pleased his father and his father showed his displeasure with a closed fist. 

           Ravi's father particularly hated to hear him sing. Ravi's mother had always encouraged his singing. She had recognized early on the talent in his untrained childish voice. Now, every time he caught Ravi singing it would remind him of the wife who had abandoned them, and he would beat Ravi into silence. The singing wasn't the only source of the beatings, but it was an absolute catalyst.

          Back then Ravi was helpless to fight back. He didn't have any other family. The neighbors all turned a blind eye to what they knew was going on. Though the neighbors would praise his singing when his father was not around, they were mere bystanders when the beatings started.

          Good for nothing became so much a part of his name it could have been recorded on his birth registry. If he excelled in school, he was a good for nothing showoff. If he went off with his friends, he was a good for nothing street bum. If he stayed home, he was a good for nothing slacker. With all the pain and humiliation, Ravi's spirit should have been broken. Instead, Ravi's lack of power turned into rage.

          Laying in his bed at night, bloody from another beating, Ravi's heart would fill with rage. Rage against his mother for leaving him in this hell. Rage against his father for perpetuating it. Rage against himself for enduring it. He didn't have the power to bring his mother back or change the way his father treated him. The only power left to him was to leave.

          The night he left Ravi vowed that he would never let anyone make him this powerless again.

          Ravi left home with his guitar, a small bundle of belongings and all is pent up rage. To survive he took to busking on the street. The rage that permeated the songs he wrote and fueled the voice he sang with always attracted crowds. His music also attracted conmen, perverts, and thugs. If he wasn't quick enough to run, Ravi was forced to fight to keep what was his, be it a good spot in a public venue or the tips that he accumulated. His rage gave him the strength to endure. He was ready, frequently giving back as good as he got if not more.

          At the age of fourteen his rage led him to kill. 

A/N

Getting angry is one thing but a rage like that?. How do you think it would feel?

How do you cope with those feelings of anger we all get from time to time?

What do you think will happen next? Where will Ravi's rage lead him.

Let me know in the comments and please take the time to vote.

I appreciate you sticking with me so far.

Until next time