Post by Admin on Jul 30, 2017 22:07:46 GMT -5
"Sometimes you're the windshield. Sometimes you're the bug."
A chuckle.
"Other times you're the guy who brings the knife to the firefight - 9 times outta 10 it pays off ‘cause they're so thrown, so rattled by that level of reckless lunacy they forget to pull the trigger. I applaud that, Nick. Really an' truly. I get that it's worked for you and repetition is a sort of conditionin' trap we fall into so much in this business. You got a method to that madness, after all.
I get that. I do. Just not about to subscribe to the newsletter, y'know? Not much into the free gift with purchase either, if it's all the same to you."
The derision is thick enough to surf on.
"I recognize those suicidal tendencies a mile off and I got no desire to go down in the record books with the assist. Not keen to have that shit hang over my head. Already got enough mysteries to keep the Scooby gang busy for weeks on end - don't need to add any guilt trips to the mix. Pretty sure that'd be toxic the rate we're goin'.
But hey, back to Sick Nick Sanderson. Way I see it, we're both the kinda guys they write stories about. A rebel. A basketcase. We're a Molly Ringwald short of a Breakfast Club reunion over here. You an' me, we're on the same frequency - against the grain. That's the only similarity here. See, while I'm the hero of Stallone's screenplays, you're the tragic headline on the evenin' news - deny it all ya want, man. Like calls to like. Been there. Done that. Got the souvenir bottle of sand on my mantle at home as proof positive. Almost drowned. Almost let the darkness pull me under."
He sucks his teeth.
"Subliminal messages, man. Decoder rings, fuckin' invisible ink. Secret messages passed in study hall? where you at? Funny how your girl's been everywhere this last week an' you're pulling the Claude Rains trick - Invisible Man if you're playin' along at home. I get it, man. Facin' someone like me does a number on a person. Case an' point bein' poor Shae... hasn't been the same since. Let's be real for a second, Nick. Nobody's writin' books about either of us - least nothing sane people wanna read. Learned long ago I'm nothin' like the guys I idolized. Grateful for that, really. Never wanted to be another loudmouthed bully, y'know? Don't wanna get up to some sorta rebel shenanigans: flippin' off fans, fuckin' the boss' wife, damn near murderin' someone out there while the flashbulbs pop - leave that kinda shit to you an' your wife, if it's all the same to you."
There's an awkward pause filled with the sound of him breathing.
"I know why you're here, Nick. Last hurrah, once more with feelin' - Romeo with Juliet at his side - maybe Ophelia's more apt? Either way, I know you're standing there, ready to dive into the chaos headfirst. So do it. Make a big splash. Flail and beat at it with those talented fists - you're treadin' water but in your mind you're inching closer and closer to GLORY'S shore. Your ego, your bullshit pride an' all that hubris you spew week in an' week out is weighin' you down - cinderblocks of dumbfuck on your ankles and you're neck-deep. Sinkin'. I'd throw you a rope but..."
There's a rough laugh.
"A part of me wants to pull a Phil Collins. Stand on the shore, drink a pina colada an' just watch for the moment your head goes under that last time. I know what you're thinking. ‘Hey, Lex, that's pretty fuckin' sadistic, man' - maybe this sickness ‘round here's contagious? Maybe that creepin', crawlin' taint's finally gotten in, despite my best efforts. Mind, I said that was what part of me wants to do. The other one, I dunno man. That other part's lookin' for snakes in the grass, twitchy-as-fuck. I'm jumpin' at shadows and I hate myself for that knee-jerk reaction.
Hate myself for lettin' someone erode it all. Starts small, y'know? Little pricks. ‘Fore you know it they've whittled away your sanity, your credibility, your career - sounds familiar, don't it, Nick? Way I see it, they're tryna make me more like you. Every part of me's resistant to change. See, that was the last thing I still had. The streak - fuck that. The titles - trinkets to collect dust - whatever. I'm after somethin' more. That's why I came to Norfolk in the first place.
Siren's song. Too good to be true, ain't it? But we're committed to this course of action now. I'm gonna crash on the rocks. I can see that loomin'. It's alright. Ain't afraid of drownin'. Unlike you, I can swim."
His voice is softer now, steadier. Full of conviction.
"Fortune cookie wisdom, Nick. Always better to be brief than boring so I'll wrap it up with one last thought. You ready? Alright. Here goes: victory this week's mine, Ponyboy. You just worry about convincin' the sharks in the water that you're still gold."
