He mumbles under his breath. Another try out, another day he is going to spend in a room, with people he doesn’t know. He barely knew himself anymore, he thought as he bit his lip, attempting to stop the worry inside his own stomach. People had turned him down before. They said he was too raw, too ‘street’, they did not wish to spend the time refining his talent. A young woman popped her head around the door.

“Mr Bennington, would you please come in.” She smiles, but only out of politeness. Chester grabs his bag and wipes his sweaty palms on his pants.

“Here it goes.”

A blue haired figure sits in the lounge chair, out of sight and out of mind. As the latest man walks into the highly decorated room, he notices something different from the rest of the people who have been trying out. Chester shakes the hands of the two people that sit at the somewhat small table.

“Ah Mr Bennington, please take a seat.” The lady who told him to come in says, in a sickly sweet voice. He internally cringes, wondering why people have to sugar coat everything. He clenches his fists in his lap, a habit he has picked up over the years.

“Have you given us your recording?” An obviously tired and angry man barks at him. Chester rummages through his bag, and brings out a cd; the man takes it off him, quickly sitting back into his seat. The lady smiles, her cherry red lips parting to show off her chemically whitened teeth.

“What have you been doing previously Mr Bennington?” The blue haired man watches intently, his eyes focused on Chester. He knows that there is something different about this man. There is a passion that lies dormant underneath him, only he does not know of it. This blue haired man wants to unleash it. He listens to the demo recording that his representatives play. He listens to the harsh and some what melodic tunes that have been produced by the blonde haired Chester. He must have this man…

After the try out, Chester slowly makes his way home. He throws his bag on the kitchen table and bee-lines for the liquor cabinet. He deserves bourbon. As he let the cool liquid burn his throat, he plays the answering machine.

“Hey Chaz, it’s me, Rachel. Listen, I need to come up sometime and pick up the rest of my stuff. Please give me a call. If you don’t return the call, I will just break in. Look Chester, I am sorry, I really am, but please don’t completely block me out. Can you just call me? Okay thanks, see you round.” That voice hurt him; it hurt him more than anything else. He tried to get over her, but there was always some excuse, something needed to be picked up, keys needed to be returned. When he had found out that she was cheating on him, he was heartbroken. Just another emotional scar he carried within his weary body. As quickly as he gulped downed his first drink, he pours himself another one, in a vain attempt to forget all the emotions that that phone call had brought up. The next message plays.

“Hello Mr Bennington. This is Stacy Hutchins from the record company. You made quite a good impression today and we would like you to meet someone. Can you please come back in at one p.m. tomorrow, so we can talk to you about your future? Thankyou.” Her sickly sweet voice resonates throughout his apartment. He listens to the message, unable to fathom that they have asked him back. As he pours his third bourbon, his first celebratory drink, and begins to forget the memory of Rachel. Maybe today wasn’t so bad, he thinks to himself.

Chester throws himself into his sheets, wishing that sleep would take over his now intoxicated body. Thoughts of the day run though his tired mind, suggesting that sleep will not come easily. He hears the headboard next door crashing wildly against the wall, the sounds of passion leaking through into Chester’s room. The constant crashing makes Chester long for the passion that he had not received in months. He rustles the sheets, an attempt to calm his urgings. The girl next door screamed a name, generic in all respects, but her voice made Chester grow cold. He knew, after Rachel, that he could never love a woman again. He could never give his heart to them. He knew he would never give his heart to ‘her’.

The neon light pulsates through the horizontal blinds, casting light blue shadows over the figure that lies in his bed. This man has no name, he is only known to Chester as Blue. As the figure sits up he lets the crisp white bed sheets slide down his strong and muscular body, his creamy mocha skin being kissed by the eerie blue light. Chester cannot help but walk over to his bed, his eyes finding comfort within the secret eyes of the stranger. He gently straddles Blue; the man places a hand on Chester’s cheek, tracing his long fingers gently on his jaw line. Chester quivers in delight, feeling the heat that begins to bubble within the pit of his stomach. In all his life, Chester had never seen anything that was this exquisite. Everything about this stranger has been carved with delicate intricacy by the higher beings. Chester knew he must take advantage before the stranger faded away, like most of his dream men. He nibbles at Blue’s bottom lip, unable to keep his passion at bay. Their tongues meet creating a warm and soft union between the two men. Chester cannot stop himself, he is searching for his solstice within this stranger’s lips. The man grabs Chester by the hips, moving strongly and swiftly, Chester is on the bottom. His eyes show surprise by this bold and daring move that the stranger had just done. Blue breaks away from Chester and begins to kiss his soft neckline, muttering words into the soft pale skin

“I want to make you free.” Chester looks at the man that is kissing his chest, he tries to understand why this man had said it. He was a free man. Blue continued to analyse Chester, with his smooth coffee voice.

“You must free yourself of her; you have to free yourself from yourself.” The stranger’s kisses moving lower down Chester’s bare chest. Chester’s mind whirled, trying to block out the ecstasy of the kisses, to think about this man’s words. Blue’s tongue trailed down Chester’s stomach, along the silky smooth skin until it stopped at his groin.

“You have to let go”

Chester shoots upright, sweat glistening down his face. He wipes his forehead with his arm, and curses himself for not continuing with his dream. He throws the sheets away, angered by their feel. Once again, Chester finds himself thinking about what he has become. He is no longer the happy man he used to be; he is only broken and unloved. He thought that he could take his mind away with searching around the record companies, but that had only lead to more heart ache. I feel so blind, he thinks to himself. Unable to control his temper he swings at the pillow. At least they called him back. That is a brand new beginning, he will find himself again. He will free himself of Rachel and the life he used to lead. Chester turns on his shower, testing the water. As he steps into the warm water, he remembers the man from his dreams. He traces his fingers down his chest, remembering where the dream kisses were placed. He must have this man…

Here we go again, he thinks to himself as one pm rolls around. He is sitting in the foyer, waiting for that syrupy sweet voice to penetrate his thoughts again.

“Ah, Mr Bennington you made it. It is such a pleasure to see you. We just loved the demo tape that you gave us yesterday. Oh please, do come in.” He smells her over-priced perfume and begins to feel ill. As he walks into her office he is greeted by a gentleman, different from the angry man he met yesterday. This man had creamy mocha skin, blue hair and the most comforting eyes he had ever seen. This was the man of his dreams.

“Hi Chester, my name is Mike.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------

This was my first piece of fic writing! I hope you guys liked it!