A Trampled Rose Chapter 1


The world nearly crashed and burned, and still no one knew. I was one of those who fought to save a future, and a reality we knew nothing of. Our journeys were hard, and our battles many. But we accomplished our destiny with flying colors. We defied impossible odds, and powers beyond imagination. We were lead by one person, the silent protagonist. And because of him alone, we all changed. Even if we didn't notice it.

Now he's gone, and life is normal. We live our lives like we used to, are lips never speaking a word of those days when hell itself seemed to chase after us. The winds are peaceful, the salty breezes caressing the lands like they have a thousand times. The tides still come and the sun still sets in cerulean skies. Same old world.

We've all gone our separate ways, trying to get back into what was once our lives. It was easy for most, but not for me.

You might think the life of a rockstar is glorious. Something any boy would dream of. The fame, the girls, the music, the riches. They think a rockstar can have whatever he wants. That's almost true. But it's those things you never notice that you can never have. There is no happiness in this life.

I sang because I felt like it. It pleased my soul when I did. Music was always like that in my family. It's in my blood, it was something I was meant to do. So I did it. I gave myself to the destiny that was calling me, and went wherever it took me. It lead me to Serge, to a journey I never expected, and the greatest heartache I ever knew.

I found myself facing a meaning I never dreamed of. A reason why I was here, why I existed. And I wanted it. I defied my destiny and went for it. I was apart of something so much bigger than me for once. I was fighting for a reason that meant something. I protected the people I journeyed with, they were my friends, the people I cared fore more than anything. Even more than my music. I think I may have loved them all, each in a different way.

We accomplished our goals, each one of us. We walked the same path, and found a part of ourselves along the way. We stopped the battles in both worlds, we saved so many lives. We stopped a war and the chaos spreading across the land. We purged everything of darkness, just so it would be safe to step outside of your home.

But then he just left. Serge. Back to his own world. And it ended. So suddenly and abrupt. The road just dead ended right infront of me. I had no choice but to go back the way I had come.

Everyone had lives to go back to. Lives they willingly wanted back.

I feared my old existence. I didn't want to be a rockstar anymore.

The little voice in the depths of my mind kept whispering to me though. Telling me that music was all I needed. I was meant to sing, it was my gift and my power.

I didn't want power. I just wanted them back. I wanted the closeness and the caring, that same mellow love we all shared as friends.

I couldn't have it though.

No. . . Life as a rockstar is anything but glorious. I could laugh if I felt that I could. Them and their simple lives. People dream to be famous, but they don't know what it's really like.

It's lonely, always moving from one place or another. Throwing concerts and parties just to flaunt this talent of mine. This talent. . ..

It's my only comfort in the waking world. I can lose myself in the words that mean so much to me, the music I play by my own hands. Singing can make the pain go away for just a little while. Thats why they call it magic.

Yet everyday I feel this gift of mine becoming less and less sacred and magical. I focus my pain into my music, and its slowly degrading it all. I sell my talent to anyone who will buy a ticket. I'm rich, and famous and I can have whatever money can buy. But money can't take away pain and loneliness. It can't buy happiness or love.

Love is the one thing a rockstar can never have. It's like it's written in some code. "No rockstar shall ever find his true love. Curse him to the stage. Curse him to his own degrading music. Never allow him the happiness he desires."

I think maybe that's why the term `sex, drugs and rock-n-roll' was created. Because that's what fame leads to. No one can ever truly love you for you. They only see that famous you that performs on stage. And thats all they ever can see. It'll never change.

Drugs can make you feel all the things you really don't. They make you feel good and happy and so far away from reality. They mangle you and twist your body in all sorts of ways until there's nothing left but a sick and dying shell.

Sex is only lust. A cheap way to feel close to another for a little while. But they don't care for you, because it's only sex.

None of it is filling. It's all a lie.

Because through drug filled hazes, you're still trying to cling to those dreams, only to find them slipping through your fingers and into the ocean waves. Dreams of love and emotions. Being able to look at another with so much care and trust it hurts. To see the beauty of the one you were meant to be with. To whisper those words `I love you' and mean them with all of your heart. To hear those words whispered back and knowing it's true. To simply lay in each others arms and feel whole.

But it slips away so soon. And I awake to find myself back in this world I detest. All I want to do is sleep again. Sleep and never wake up again.

Those little oval pills, they make you sleepy. Did you know that? The demi-humans make them. It's enough to make them sleep for a few hours. But they sell them to humans, because for a human, it's freedom. They can make a man sleep for days.

I am a rockstar after all. I suppose I'm entitled to the doom of drugs. I have nothing else. Only the pathetic damnation of myself with little white pills.

I take three, four, sometimes five a night. I can always feel myself become weak, my muscles tremble and my body shake. I hit the bed and my consciousness slips away into those fuzzy dreams. I'll sleep for so long until I hear Miki's voice pulling me from this illusion.

She's there, beside my bed. There's no worry in her eyes, no sympathy or fear. Just the blank emotions of someone who doesn't care.

She used too though. She used to care so much. She tried to help me, but I refused her. She took my pills from me, but I always got more, she slept in my room and kept an eye on me, but I always slipped away. I always got more pills, somehow. And I slept wherever I fell. When I woke, I'd find her standing over me every time.

But that last time. She handcuffed herself to me for a week. She gave the key to the blue dancer girl, who hid it. And so there I was, trying to face the truth that she cared for me.

Because of her, I went cold turkey. I managed to convince Miki I was over my small addiction. And as soon as she left, I started again.

Somewhere down the line, she gave up on me. She stopped caring. And for that I'm relieved. Miki has been so good to me, she doesn't deserve this. I just can't stop though, not just because she wants me to. Not everything revolves around her.

Today, I look at myself in the mirror and only see. . . something. Just a stranger looking back at me. I no longer see any trace of what I once was. I'm just broken. I try to hide it beneath a mask of eyeshadow and mascara. My lips traced in the faintest hint of bloody rose, my skin, pale white like I've never seen the sun.

Miki says I've gone too far.

I don't care. It's like this every time.

She watches me before every concert. It's so hard to tell what she's thinking.

I stand before her, wearing a tight black mini skirt and fishnets and collars wherever I can fit them. I ask her. "How do I look?"

She turns away, hiding the sickened look on her face. I smile faintly.

This is the price of being a rockstar. It kills my mind little by little, and it wastes my body even quicker. I feel numb now days. Never really feeling anything. What was once my emotions now lays thrown away in a dark corner where I cry before sleep.

Being emotionless is like being dead. I want to feel so badly again. Even if it's only physical pain.

The bright red marks on my wrists prove that I am no longer human. That I threw away what was left of my humanity somewhere long ago. And I no longer remember where. I can never go back and look for it. I feel that I'm too far gone.

I cover the fresh cuts with leather gloves.

I'm no longer the proud, tough, wannabe like I used to be. When I traveled the world playing super-hero with Serge and the others. I was so alive back then. I had found my sister Marcy. I found a meaning in my existence, and I was truly happy. But now. . . thats all dim to me. Slowly fading memories, gone like Serge is. Never coming back.

I can't say that I want them back nowadays It pains me to remember, it sends me deeper into that black abyss of depression where no one could ever possibly reach me. They all left me. Every single one of them. Miki is all thats left. And I turned her away.

How did this happen? I ask myself that many days. Is it love that drove me into this pathetic state? That I cut myself just to feel anything? I'm not sure.

I feel unwanted, used, and reused. I'm no longer needed, I'm helpless, unloved and hated by the world. I'll never have the love that my father and mother did. A sea pirate and a mermaid, destined to hold one another in each others arms, even if it was forbidden. They loved each other.

I feel like a disgrace. A failure. A dishonor to my family. My father was a respected pirate, my mother a beautiful mermaid. My sister, one of the mighty Dragoon Devas. And then there's me.

A demeaned child who dresses in a woman's cloths, hiding behind black makeup. I've broken every rule. I'm sickening to look upon. My music has changed and I barely feel that magic within my voice. My songs are filled with drugs, hate, heartache and saddening things. The world just isn't ready to see through a rockstars eyes.

Perhaps I even scare them. I have a few loyal fans who still come to see me. But that's it.

My fortunes are less, and my dancers are threatening to leave. I've heard them talk. I've heard them whisper behind my back. So let them leave

I stand on stage, looking down at this empire I've come to have. There used be so many people jamming themselves into whatever space they could find, just to see me.

Tonight is less than a full crowd. I should have guessed though, I've had a resent bad reputation in Termina. But I play my music anyway. That's what my destiny is, isn't it?

I put whatever emotion I can muster into my songs. . . .there it is, that spark. That tiny flicker of magic is still there. It's fading so quickly. Will it even be there the next time I play?

Probably not.

But I've condemned myself to this, and I can't let it go. Not until all the magic is gone.

It's midnight and they're all gone, the ones who came to see me perform. And now its off to Guldove. Everyone is asleep, but I'm still awake, gazing at the abyss of stars above me. They're beautiful, but so far away, twinkling in their blanket of darkness. I wish I could fly away, and never been seen again. I'd hide there with them, alone to gaze at their beauty for myself. But thats not even possible for me. And so I'm stuck here, watching from afar.

I make my way to the bow of the ship, leaning forward letting the salty ocean winds blow through my hair. The cool air feels nice against my skin. There's no sounds but waves crashing against the wooden hull, and the catch of wind through sturdy sails. It's all so peaceful, nearly calming to be here with the stars like a twinkling sanctuary above me.

I hear the opening of a door. From one of the cabins. Why would anyone be up this late? Have they come to admire night's abyss like me? I turn and find something I'm not entirely prepared for. A slender physique of pale white and smooth rippling muscles, perfect against the shimmering silver moon hanging pregnant against the ink black ocean. Beautiful, unmarred and proof of his legendary blade skills. Simply amazing, dressed only in loose white pants, and a seductive smile upon plush, velvety lips. He lifts a hand to brush back those strands of lavender shaded hair, long and tugged at by the ocean breeze.

I could only describe him as a work of art underneath nameless stars. A god, a prince, an enchanting, magical being with red eyes and haunting features. Karsh, the Dragoon Deva.

I'm gaping, in surprise, shock, and just plain dumbstruck at the beautiful man infront of me. Never before had I seen him in this light. The annoyed smirk gone from his face, the anger gone from his actions, the blood lust gone from his desire, the axe gone from his hand. No longer did he seem arrogant and prideful of himself. But something more graceful and polished, delicate, even.

But Karsh was no delicate being, he could swipe a man's head from his body with bare hands. He could kill any beast that stepped foot in his way, and look any danger in the eye with no fear. He was loved by the people, he was a hero, someone who fought to save the world.

But. . . why was he here? Why hadn't I seen him before?

Whatever the reason, he came my way, ascending the stairs to the bow. His hair flowing about his silvery form with each step. He flashed me a smile that made me warm inside.

Emotion. . . it flooded me with feelings I've never experienced. All of it hitting me like a wave from the ocean itself. After months. . .years of being dead inside, it all came back at the sight of him.

All of it triggered by Karsh.

I don't want to see him. I squeeze my eyes shut, but the vision of him, basking in the presence of the moon and stars, is forever imprinted in my mind.

I see him smiling at me, in my mind. I see him brushing back those silky strands of lavender hair, blowing in the wind, surrounding him. His image is taunting me. Reminding me that I can never be seen as anything other than a disgrace infront of others.

A warm hand touches my cheek, filling me with that heavenly warmth. I open my eyes and find that image of perfection kneeling before me, concern in crimson eyes. "Nikki?" his voice soft, sweet, and worried.

My heart broke. Shattering into a million pieces. Pain exploding in my chest, and my control suddenly gone, vanished. I collapse into strong arms, crying. I just want him to hold me, to make me warm. But I don't feel his arms embrace me. "Are you okay Nikki?"

"No. . ."

To be continued.

Chapter 2

KSS's Fanfiction