2017.05.02 - Dreams vs. Songs: Somewhere I Belong--I Will Not Bow

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*Jacob tracks down Jason to confront him about the strange dreams that have haunted him at night.*

About two hours before opening, on a Friday night. K9's is buzzing like a bee hive. Bartenders and kitchen help setting up their various work stations. The scent of food cooking wafting from the back. A band tuning instruments for their live sets. But despite the flurry of activity their is a magnetic center to the room, and he is on stage.

Or more specifically, kneeling on one knee on the edge of the stage talking to a technician about a sound check. Jason Christopher seems to be in a fair enough mood. Though their is an air of wariness in those around him. As if they are used to that changing, perhaps rather rapidly. Standing up the raven haired young man walks to the center of the stage and gathers up the microphone from a mic-stand. Presumeably he will be wearing more than the 'wife beater' shirt and distressed black designer jeans later when he performs. But right now that is what he is sporting as he begins to sing.

> *(When this began)*
>
> I had nothing to say
>
> And I get lost in the nothingness inside of me
>
> (I was confused)
>
> And I let it all out to find
>
> That I’m not the only person with these things in mind
>
> (Inside of me)
>
> But all that they can see the words revealed
>
> Is the only real thing that I’ve got left to feel
>
> (Nothing to lose)
>
> Just stuck, hollow and alone
>
> And the fault is my own, and the fault is my own
>
>
> I wanna heal, I wanna feel what I thought was never real
>
> I wanna let go of the pain I’ve felt so long
>
> (Erase all the pain till it’s gone)
>
> I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I’m close to something real
>
> I wanna find something I’ve wanted all along
>
> Somewhere I belong
>
>
> And I’ve got nothing to say
>
> I can’t believe I didn’t fall right down on my face
>
> (I was confused)
>
> Looking everywhere only to find
>
> That it’s not the way I had imagined it all in my mind
>
> (So what am I)
>
> What do I have but negativity
>
> ’Cause I can’t justify the way, everyone is looking at me
>
> (Nothing to lose)
>
> Nothing to gain, hollow and alone
>
> And the fault is my own, and the fault is my own
>
>
> I wanna heal, I wanna feel what I thought was never real
>
> I wanna let go of the pain I’ve felt so long
>
> (Erase all the pain till it’s gone)
>
> I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I’m close to something real
>
> I wanna find something I’ve wanted all along
>
> Somewhere I belong
>
>
> I will never know myself until I do this on my own
>
> And I will never feel anything else, until my wounds are healed
>
> I will never be anything till I break away from me
>
> I will break away, I'll find myself today
>
>
> I wanna heal, I wanna feel what I thought was never real
>
> I wanna let go of the pain I’ve felt so long
>
> (Erase all the pain till it’s gone)
>
> I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I’m close to something real
>
> I wanna find something I’ve wanted all along
>
> Somewhere I belong
>
>
> I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I’m somewhere I belong
>
> I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I’m somewhere I belong
>
>
>
> *Somewhere I belong*
>
>

As the song winds down, and his voice fades he stares hard at the stage, an odd expression playing across his features. As if, he identified with the song in some odd way he couldn't quite understand. And it was annoying him the more he tried to.

Amidst all the bustle, Jacob Black is able to sneak inside. Arriving in the club just in time to catch the performance, he finds a grin spreading across his face before he even realizes it. When the song ends, he shakes off the moment. Definitely just more evidence that something weird is going on. Pushing off from where he'd leaned against a door frame to watch Jason sing, Jacob crosses the club with a purposeful stride, stopping when he's just at the base of the stage, thumbs hooked into the front pockets of his jeans with all the confidence he can muster, to look up pointedly at Jason. Clearing his throat a bit, he raises his voice to say clearly, even above all the din of the place, "'Scuse me, Mister Christopher? My name's Jacob Black. We need to talk."

Jason Christopher was still having a moment of deeply conflicted emotions. Something felt wrong in his life. Something felt empty inside of him, and every single time he even considered it, he felt a surge of rage filling that emptiness. It was just swelling and spilling over and poisoning his mood when a voice rang out. Jason's head doesn't snap up, but slowly rises to look at the unfamiliar (was it?) voice. He stares at the young man, he had seen him just recently. But at the time he had no name to go with the face. Though, now tyhat he thought about it, he looked like a Jacob. Canting his head side to side and cracking his neck he looked away. "That seems unlikely." he pauses though. "But for a moment, if I pretended that I thought we did. What would we talk about, Mr. Black." His voice is cultured, smooth but with an edge. The sharpest assassin's blade wrapped in delicate silk.

Jacob's smile resurfaces, and he oddly finds himself relaxing in Jason's presence. Given that tone, honestly, it's probably not the most rational response, but it comes with the certainty of a well-trusted instinct. "Well, this might sound... strange... but, I've been dreaming of you. And I know things aren't right with you. And I think... maybe I'm supposed to help you." His smile falters, just for a moment, as he realizes how utterly stupid the words sound to him, but just as quickly, the smile returns. It just feels right, somehow. It's like it can't possibly go wrong, like one of those perfect moments when it all comes together--like a batter who knows, even as he swings, that he's going to hit it out of the park. Jason's clearly not the friendliest guy, but he seems like he cares about the world, right? Nature, anyway. And these dreams have to mean something, right? And then there's this feeling. It can't all be wrong. Can it?

Jason Christopher stares impasssively at Jacob Black for a moment, and then it gradually becomes incredulous. "Honestly. Ive heard worse come ons in my time. Not many. But a few." He looks genuinelly bemused at how ridiculous the situation was. "But like I said, we have nothing to really talk about after all." He pauses a moment though, glancing back at Jacob. As if, well, maybe for a moment as if he was pondering it a moment more. Did they have anything to discuss? Something just felt wrong, and he noticed suddenly...he wasn't angry at the moment...

A look of surprise crosses Jacob's face at the mention of a come-on, as a possibility he'd given no consideration at all to takes form as a tiny yet confusing seed of thought. No doubt more will come of that later, but for now he falls back on the first response that comes to mind, lifting both hands, palms forward, to say, "Whoa, *whoa*. Look, I'm not hitting on you. I've been literally having dreams about you and your... well, this whole crusade thing you've got going on. I'm not pretending to understand it all or anything, but based on what I've seen on TV, it holds up. So, I dunno if I'm finally getting in touch with my spiritual side or what, but I can tell you need my help. That's all I'm saying, okay? I mean, look--I'm not even gay."

Jason Christopher clears his throat and walks over to the far left of the stage. Picking up a glass of water and taking a sip of it. He never drank alcohol. Something about the taste of it just didn't settle well with him. "So. You want to help me. I'm not sure exactly what you think you could help me with, mr I am not even gay Black." He stares very hard at him, challenging him to become more interesting. Arching and eyebrow to punctuate the challenge.

Jacob stares back for several moments, feeling the strangest conflict between unease and a strange, enduring sense of well-being that just won't go away. He slowly takes a casual step toward Jason, lowering his hands again, and folds his arms across his chest, keeping his posture loose and carefully relaxed. Strange that it comes so easily. "I'm saying," he says, lowering his voice so the others are less likely to hear, "that I know your life is going down the wrong path, and I think--and seriously, don't ask me to explain it, 'cause I really can't--that I can help you fix it." He hesitates, looking uneasy, and lowers his hands again, spreading his arms slightly as if in unconscious supplication. "These things you're doing. Jason, they're... not you. Not really." Meanwhile, his brain is screaming for full reverse because, well, they've clearly gone screaming right into crazy talk at this point. At least if he claims it was some kind of spiritual vision the tribe isn't likely to think he's *completely* insane.

Jason Christopher listens to Jacob Black, and the inner conflict he is causing is meticulously kept from appearing on his face. He stalks up closer to him and snarls at Jacob. His voice a dangerous, yet seductive whisper. "Do not presume to know anything about me, Jacob Black. Nor to judge my actions." But the proximity, it causes even greater conflict. He l;ooks Jacob up and down, nearly twitching in such annoyance. Then he spins and starts to walk away again. Something about him was throwing jason off his game. But instead of pissing him off it was almost, magnetic. "Do you need money for whatever medication you have clearly skipped taking? Do you have any idea just how insane you sound right now?"

Maybe it's just fitting that Jacob's reaction is to grin again, bright and wide as ever. The snarl, the dangerous whisper--they should have at least given him pause, put his defenses up, but instead they just give him an odd, warm feeling. (Yeah, one more thing to sort out later.) "I know, right?" he says. "I sound like I've gone *completely* nuts." He raises a hand again, making a *waving it off* kind of gestures. "Anyway, I'm not judging you. Not like you're thinking, anyway. I just want to help." The term "cognitive dissonance" hardly even serves to sufficiently describe it all, but somehow it all feels right, even good. (Besides, that whisper is sticking with him in, truth be told, would be freaking him out right now if he didn't feel so damn happy about everything.) Venturing a bit farther, he adds, "I just don't want you to do anything you'll regret later." Where the words came from, he only half understands. At best.

Incredulous doesn't do adequate justice to the look any longer. Jason Christopher just shakes his head some more at the sheer temerity of this stranger. Even if, he didn't feel lijke a stranger. Not entirely at least. Like looking through a fog shrouded window at a familiar face. The details were obscured, but you could make out the important features. "Look. I have a set to reherse, and you are clearly touched. I have no idea what your game is. But I am warning you. Playing it with me will not-" he stops abruptly mid-threat. For whatever reason the notion of carrying on with a threatning comment just seemed anathema to him suddenly. His gut twisting at the idea. Anger racing through him, but at himself?

With a snarl he stalked back center stage and gestured at the sound tech. It was more or less a dismissal apparently. But it highlighted that a number of the other people in the room seemed worried at the exchange. As if the notion of someone facing off with their boss was *not* something they were comfortable with. The music starts and clearly this is a louder and more angry song this time.

> *Fall*
>
> Now the dark begins to rise
>
> Save your breath, it's far from over
>
> Leave the lost and dead behind
>
> Now's your chance to run for cover
>
>
> I don't want to change the world
>
> I just wanna leave it colder
>
> Light the fuse and burn it up
>
> Take the path that leads to nowhere
>
>
> All is lost again
>
> But I'm not giving in
>
>
> I will not bow
>
> I will not break
>
> I will shut the world away
>
> I will not fall
>
> I will not fade
>
> I will take your breath away
>
>
> Fall
>
>
> Watch the end through dying eyes
>
> Now the dark is taking over
>
> Show me where forever dies
>
> Take the fall and run to Heaven
>
>
> All is lost again
>
> But I'm not giving in
>
>
> I will not bow
>
> I will not break
>
> I will shut the world away
>
> I will not fall
>
> I will not fade
>
> I will take your breath away
>
>
> And I'll survive, paranoid
>
> I have lost the will to change
>
> And I am not proud, cold-blooded fake
>
> I will shut the world away
>
>
> Open your eyes!
>
>
> I will not bow
>
> I will not break
>
> I will shut the world away
>
> I will not fall
>
> I will not fade
>
> I will take your breath away
>
>
> And I'll survive; paranoid
>
> I have lost the will to change
>
> And I am not proud, cold-blooded fake
>
> I will shut the world away
>
>
> *Fall!*
>
>

Jacob stands slightly puzzled at Jason's reaction, but when the man stalks off to resume his rehearsing, Jacob has the distinct feeling that what's really needed, here, is a tactical withdrawal, at least for now. At least, it's what Jason seems to need, and how can he claim to want to help the guy if he's not even going to respect his needs? So, Jacob takes a moment to borrow a pen from the bartender and jot his name and number down on a napkin, along with the words "*I'll be back!*" Then, still smiling, he lingers for a while to listen to the singing. Soon enough, he's slipped away, heading off into the evening as new plans begin to form. Clearly, Jason needs help, and if Jacob can't help him alone, then he'll just have to find some friends who can join in the effort!

Jason Christopher watches as jacob Black leaves the club. Though he makes a pronounced effort to appear otherwise engaged. His gaze lingers on the exit door across the room on the far side of the bar. Longer perhaps than it should. What the hell was wrong with him? The anger slowly seeping back through him. What the actual hell was wrong that some local kid could just wander in and mess with his head with some bullshit dream story. nevermind the pronounced sense of familiarity. He would not dwell on it. No. He would simply sing and try and forget the odd local kid that oddly was going to prove utterly and infuriatingly, unforgettable.