Title: A Tortured Artist
Band: Alkaline Trio
Pairing: None yet, but there will be soon enough
Rating: PG-13 for now
Author: I think we've figured out by now that I am the author.
Summary: This could be love... Derek is drawing something.
Disclaimer: Matt and Dan are locked in my closet and I'm having Derek over for tea tonight. *shifty eyes*
...sarcasm is a foreign language to you isn't it?
Sitting in his eerily darkened room, Derek looked down to the image he was generating. Cold, dark eyes stared back at him, slightly hidden underneath strands of dark hair. Behind and to the left of the gothic male figure, a timid, frightened female with long black flowing hair was chained to a wall.
Derek smirked at his creation. The satanic glint in the male’s eyes invoked domination and control, and excited something in Derek which he could not explain. He picked up his pencil and drew fancy letters, one by one, spelling out a phrase he was all too familiar with. This could be love…
Sighing, Derek set down his pencil. Something was missing from the illustration that sat before him. He pondered this for a moment, an idea evolving in his mind. He reached into his desk, and pulled out a red pencil crayon. Etching minimal amounts of red onto his paper, he smiled triumphantly at the sinister effect caused by such a small amount of colour. The blood that Derek added augmented the gothic art perfectly.
“Hey there Grant whatcha drawing?”
A startled Derek jumped in his seat, and quickly turned around to find one Dan Andriano curiously staring back at him.
“Uh…it’s just…it’s…it’s nothing” the drummer stuttered. Dan reached around him and snatched the sketchpad.
“Oooo spooky!” the bald man snickered, a grin forming between his cheeks.
“Gimme that!” Derek snapped, grabbing at his prized drawing, but failing miserably as Dan bounced out of reach.
“Hey, this dude in front looks just like Matt! Creepy!”
“Dan! Give it back!” the drummer hollered, cheeks growing red and hot with utter embarrassment.
“Nevar!” Dan shouted, in a mock pirate accent, running out of the drummer’s bedroom.
Derek chased after the wretched art thief, running beelines throughout the house. Catching up with Dan, Derek tackled him, and managed to get a hold of his precious artwork.
“May I ask what’s going on here?”
Derek looked up to see an amused looking Matt, glaring back at him.
“Relax Matthew,” Dan laughed, “I stole Derek’s drawing and he was chasing me trying to get it back.”
The guitarist cocked an eyebrow and shook his head.
“What am I going to do with you boys?” Matt giggled. The drummer drew in a quick breath and swallowed nervously. He began thinking about was the way Matt towered over him, and how small and insecure he felt at the moment.
Derek stood up, artwork in hand, and dashed into the living room. He grabbed the remote and switched on the tv, revealing the James Bond movie ‘Golden Eye.’ Muting it, he cast his eyes downward examining his drawing once again. A few minutes later he heard someone enter the room.
“Dan told me to tell you he’s going out to buy handcuffs so he can chain you to a wall.”
Derek slowly lifted his head to watch Matt flop down onto the couch beside him. Blinking slowly, Matt stared profusely at Derek until he offered an explanation.
“Well, actually I think he went to his girlfriend’s place, cause he took the flowers from the dining room table before he walked out. But that’s not important. What’s important is why Dan wants to chain you to a wall.” Matt snickered.
A deafening silence took over the room, aside from the slight humming of the muted television. Looking back down, intimidated by Matt’s almost satanic glare, Derek handed Matt the sketchpad. Examining the page, Matt’s eyes widened slightly. Derek chose to ignore Matt’s expression, and returned to studying his intertwined hands.
Derek could feel Matt’s eyes on him, so he apprehensively angled his head to the side, not bothering to lift his head. Matt grew an evil smirk.
“Tortured artist are we?” He said with a low and raspy voice. Derek shivered at the sound, and then mentally slapped himself for allowing Matt to have such an effect on him. He gave a weak smile and turned his attention to the screen in front of him.
Matt cocked his head and looked curiously at the drummer. His mind began to wander back to the drawing, and he wondered how such an intelligent, quiet, and shy man could produce such a dark, sinister piece of art. That’s when a plan was launched into the guitarist’s mind. Matt decided that tomorrow night, he was going to show Derek something. Something shocking.