Gathered around the tabletop were two men. Two sets of five cards between their hands, two piles of 16 next to each person; in the temporarily neutral space before them, two singles face down and two smaller draw piles next to those. Their hands were poised eagerly over the singles, one with lanky fingers almost quivering with anticipation, the other still as the surface of a secluded lake. Two additional men looked on from the sidelines: one held a cup of tea against his lips in one hand and a clean saucer in the other, just a few inches lower. The second was silently gripping the edge of the table with something akin to… fear? No, not fear, but…
Excitement.
Sapphire blue locked with emerald green.
“Ready?”
A nod. The thinnest of grins crossed a pair of full lips. Nick took a deep breath, glancing from one to the other, before he finally released them.
“Go.”
Time seemed to slow as the two cards were flipped, but as soon as their backs touched the table, the air was anything but
Drunk Dialing with the Floyd Boys by GreatGawain, literature
Literature
Drunk Dialing with the Floyd Boys
One evening David was scrubbing a particularly stubborn pot in the sink, cursing himself for having forgotten earlier to deglaze it while attempting a recipe for French onion soup, when he suddenly paused; he could’ve sworn the telephone had just rung. Hearing nothing, he resumed his laborious task with a shrug. The steel bristled scrubber slipped out of his hand and fell with a clatter into the sink and as he reached for it, he froze in place, once again wondering if he had heard ringing again. But, of course, the house was silent. “Hmmm…” He furrowed his brow and turned his attention to the dishes once more, but this time working at the burnt mess as quietly as he could.
“I knew it,” he declared to himself as ringing filled the air. Plucking a dish towel off the oven door, he dried the suds from his hands before picking up the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Oh! Hello David! What can I do for you?”
“…You called ME.”
“Oh yeah.” David rolled his eyes: he could practically smell the alcohol on
Roger was extremely hungover, the aftertaste of their party the night before still resting uncomfortably on his tongue. After rolling – literally – out of bed he managed to find his feet long enough to immediately fall back on the mattress: the pounding in his head was so loud he was sure the neighbors could hear it too. He groaned as it swirled around in his ears and the pressure threatened to burst right through his skull. Curse that Mike Leonard for coaxing him into drinking whatever ghastly cocktail he had managed to come up with. He scraped his tongue against his teeth in a vain attempt to rid it of the stale taste of cheap liquor and...
Richard, David, and Nick were having a casual tea break in the studio cantina between recording sessions when Roger strode into the room – never a good sign – and proudly pulled up a chair at the end of the table, flipping it around so that he straddled it backwards. He laced his fingers together and rested his arms on the surface in front of him, a wry smile twitching upon his lips like he had just discovered the formula for turning each of his bandmates into puppies, but said nothing. Nick continued reading his auto magazine, completely ignoring Roger, and Richard gave him a slight head tilt to acknowledge his presence. David was the onl...
UNFINISHED - Red and Green: Nichard by GreatGawain, literature
Literature
UNFINISHED - Red and Green: Nichard
While Nick was freezing himself waiting for the filming to begin, he pulled out a pair of drumsticks and silently tapped out a series of double flams on his thigh. The air was cold and sharp, and the wind was beginning to pick up. Eventually Nick had to stop drumming because his arms were beginning to ache. He folded them into his chest and gritted his teeth, squinting against the bright photography lights and trying to make out a shape of a person he could look at to wonder about the time. It felt like an awfully long time had passed since Adrian said he would be “right back.” As the sky grew more and more navy blue, Nick began to wonder ...
UNFINISHED - Untitled: Rogrick by GreatGawain, literature
Literature
UNFINISHED - Untitled: Rogrick
Roger awoke coated in sweat. His heart beat against his chest like the mallet he’d gripped with his hand had against his gong onstage hours before. His body was tense, with his muscles clenching in his hands and back. After a few moments, he found he was trembling, too.
He looked to his left and cracked his neck in the process, while the rest of his body he tried to force into following. Struggling, he managed to curl himself stiffly onto his side as his skin grew hotter and hotter.
Throwing the sheets off his body, he suddenly threw himself from his bed and staggered into the space of the dark, cheap hotel room. The room was placed outsid...