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oh i see your scars
i know where they're from
so sensually carved and bleeding
til you're dead and gone

anthony's apartment was large and extravagant yet cold and uninviting. however he hadn't bought it for entertaining people, rather for coming home after work, drinking and sleeping. he had no one to impress, no one to care how cold it was and no one to even bother caring where he lived his empty alcoholic life. the place was neat and tidy, his fridge was always full either with alcohol or food. the barrenness stopped at his bedroom which, for a good reason, always had its door shut. it was the largest of the three bedrooms, and colored in white and black. posters of his favorite bands littered the walls, clothes covered the timber floor as they rarely were put back into the walk in wardrobe and his king sized bed was unmade. there were empty and almost empty bottles of alcohol randomly throughout the room. they even dared to make their way into his bathroom that was joined to his room. an expensive stereo and also lived in the corner of his room, along with his favourite cds, dvds, xbox games for easy access.

oh i see you crawl
you can barely walk
and arms wide open
you keep on begging for more

anthony's diary realistic dreams

i want to shimmy shimmy shimmy through the break of dawn -- Anthony, 20:26:51 10/15/04 Fri [1]
he had just moved into the apartment, which, no matter how hard he tried to make the place seem friendly and warm, would still remain bare, bleak and cold. not that he really cared, male had no one to bring back here. sigh escaped his full lips, as he sat at the desk in his study trying to finish his paperwork. this was the only sucky part of his job. he could deal with all the interviews, the listening to demos, the desperate musicians that would often find their way on his doorstep begging for him to sign them. he could even put up with the press and their great delight in his drinking problem. but he just couldn�t spend five minutes of paperwork before he went insane and grabbed his only vice, the bottle. he didn�t smoke, didn�t do illegal drugs, didn�t party to dawn and sleep with random girls. he only drank extensively. he could be a lot worse. especially as he was in the music biz and everybody in the music biz were known as notorious party animals. anthony was exactly the opposite. he rarely went to award ceremonies, parties and other miscellaneous things that required him to be there. he sometimes did grace the shows of the bands on his record label, but that was it. forsaken mascu did not know why he�d chosen to live like a recluse. he was only twenty-two, he should be out partying like there�s no tomorrow and enjoying his status as the head of one of the most successful record labels. but he wasn�t, and he didn�t want to.

anthony stormed out of the study, leaving the paperwork to hopefully rot. as he wandered along to his bedroom, he glanced at all of the awards the bands signed to his label that littered the ivory walls. there were platinums, triple platinums and even some multi platinums. of course none of it was due to any effort or hard work on his behalf. he just had a good ear for extraordinary bands. everyone praised his dedication and determination, when really he did hardly anything. he pointed it out to them, time and time again, in interviews and tv segments but they just patted him on the shoulder and told him to stop being so modest. the only reason he�d started his label anyway was to help his best friend�s band out. the extremely talented band had been having trouble getting signed, just because their sound was a bit �different� and wouldn�t sell, according to the other labels that had rejected them. oh how they must be kicking themselves for not signing them.

anyways, anthony had put his brilliant mind into overdrive and managed to get his record label up and running just for his best friend, and it had just grown swiftly from there. they had indeed been different, but the music scene had been waiting for a band like that to emerge and therefore embraced them with open arms. bitter laugh filled the hallway as he opened his bedroom door and entered his dark, foreboding prison. he should be grateful for his achievements and success, but he hated it and would take it all back to be how he was four years ago. even though his best friend and his band had benefited greatly from anthony�s work, he still wanted to be normal again. he�d never wanted to be a celebrity, to have girls throwing themselves at him every time he walked down the street, to have people camp out on his doorstep just to beg him for him to �just listen to our band for a minute� or sometimes to �sign us to your label�. he�d just wanted to be one of those mediocre people you met and immediately forgot about, he didn�t want to be labeled america�s most eligible bachelor.

pale hand grabbed a half empty bottle of vodka and the clear liquid was gone before you could say �alcoholic�. despite his terrible mood, he couldn�t help thinking about that girl he�d met yesterday, she had been interesting, cute and funny. maybe if they became friends, she could draw him out of his isolated habits and help him to enjoy his life a bit more. athletic frame flopped backwards onto extremely comfy bed, as male tossed now empty bottle onto the floor. he pulled the dark covers over his body then flicked on the tv via the remote which had been between the bed sheets. the tv wasn�t on for a purpose, just mainly to drown out the silence of the apartment.

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