LPfiction

Category Linkin Park

Rapture by Hexagram

Chapter 1

They’ve all gone through changes. Everything has. Their music, their styles, their appearances, their habits, their fans. Years have taken a toll on all of them.


Brad’s fingers have become more calloused; Joe’s teeth got a slight fix; Phoenix let his beard and hair grow; Rob gained incredible arm muscles; Chester took out his lip ring and shaved his head.


But the most notable change of all happened in Mike. It was just a while ago that Chester had noticed all these little changes that happened in his closest bandmate.


Mike has grown—he has truly become a man. The baggy clothes were replaced with smaller shirts, flannels and tighter jeans, with a more sophisticated style. His hair was no longer spiked; instead it was growing rather messily and eventually shaved. His eyes rarely show childish innocence; they shine with wisdom and eternal kindness.


It strangely intrigued Chester.


It was a few weeks after they were back in the studio to work on their third album that Chester realized how much they all have grown over the past years. They weren’t just some idiots writing their teenage angst into music anymore. They were creating art. Still, the guys were connected the same, understanding each other’s train of thought completely.


It felt great to be back in the process, although most of it wasn’t the same as they had done before; they were taking risks. Just him, his five best friends, and the producer, all collaborating together, creating puzzle pieces, developing them to put together a beautiful art piece that he would hold pride in years and years after.


This is what being complete was like. He hasn’t felt more complete than when he was sharing his seed, or writing together in a room with Mike. He hasn’t even felt like this with Samantha; nothing could feel like this.


The change was almost overwhelming for Chester. It pushed away whatever nostalgia he had, and like a puppy he followed every new idea that was thrown at him. Especially by Mike.


His best friend was new, but at the same time held the same old charm. The same charm that pulled Chester in. No matter how many times he tried to pull himself away from those eyes and that voice, he was pulled right back in.


And he loved it.


One beautiful, sunny day, during the fifth week of their production, Mike and Chester sat in a comfortable silence, trying to write. But nothing happened. Fuck, writer’s block.


“Chester, I seriously can’t write anything,” Mike whined. “Any rap or rhymes that I write down sound stupid.”


“Oh, come on,” Chester didn’t believe a word of it. His best friend was the most creative, artistic person he’s ever met, and any idea, even crappy ones, were amazing. Maybe only to him, but nonetheless. “That can’t be true.”


“Maybe all my rapping skills were exhausted by Fort Minor, and now I can’t do anything,” Mike kept going with his dramatic revelation.


Chester was recalled back to the time where both of them had their own solo projects. He didn’t think he could miss someone so much, although he was incredibly happy for Mike for pursuing his other dreams. As long as he had him back in Linkin Park.


“Maybe you should sing,” he blurted out. He didn’t know where the idea came from, but it yanked at his heart in a playful manner. He liked the idea.


“Huh?” Mike wondered.


“I mean, you do a lot of vocals live, even though it’s back-up,” Chester explained. “And you’ve got an amazing voice, so why not?”


Mike was listening intently. He was frowning in confusion at first, and then his features softened and the beautiful brown eyes gained depth.


“You’ve been doing this for so many years, so how cool would it be to try something new?” Chester got excited at the idea itself with every word he spoke. “Can you imagine how different the new record would sound like?”


Chester beamed at his band mate, his hands wide up in the air as Mike smiled back, looking shyly at the floor. The half-Asian chuckled at his friend.


“I mean, I could try but…”


“Come on, try it now!” Chester stood up quickly, yanking Mike’s wrist, pulling his band mate up from the couch and leading him towards one of the rooms that had the vocal recording booth. “Have you written a non-rap song?”


“I sort of have,” Mike answered shyly as he was dragged through the hallways into a tiny room. “But it’s not nearly complete, so…”


“So you DO want to sing!” Chester jumped up and down in excitement, clapping his hands. “Oh, bless me for bringing this up. Good Chester!”


Pushing a laughing Mike into the vocal booth, he shut the door and turned on the equipment in the room. With wide, excited eyes, he watched as Mike shifted from foot to foot, positioning himself in front of the microphone. The both exchanged short nods, signaling readiness and Mike started to sing.


“Standing alone with no direction…

How did I fall so far behind?

Why am I searching for perfection,

Knowing it’s something I won’t find?”


It was going definitely better than Chester expected. He didn’t miss a note and his voice carried a sweet aura that his could never achieve. But then…


“In my fear and flaws

I left myself down again.

All because

I run

‘Till the silence splits me open

I run

‘Till it puts me underground

‘Till I have no breath

And no roads left but one…”


All breath was taken from his lungs. Chester absolutely froze as those long notes wrapped his hearing in a high. He never knew that Mike could sound like that. He never knew. Despite his inability to breathe every time Mike sang those long words, his heart was practically leaping out of his chest.


“Chester?”


The older man just sat wide-eyed, re-playing those notes over and over again in his head.


“Ugh, don’t tell me, was it really that bad?”


“God, no, Mike,” he managed. “It was... absolutely…breathtaking.”


As a blush covered Mike’s cheeks, Chester became fully aware at how fast he was falling.



We’ll see how this goes :)

This won't be a really long story - five chapters at most.

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