Malcolm Aaron @mac-malcolm-blog - Tumblr Blog

Things That Go Bump In The Night|| Xander and Malcolm Solo

Malcolm was drifting. Tessa was currently busy, working on some new project. He really only saw her at night lately, and they either fucked and slept or just slept. Whatever she had bouncing around that pretty red head of hers, she was intent on making it happen. He hoped that she wasn’t building herself a new toy, because he was going to be pretty pissed.

He found himself walking down the halls, looking straight ahead, he didn’t acknowledge any patients or guards. The patients avoided his path, many of them knowing the rumor. His life was somewhat of a story here, a tale about a boy that was brought back from the ghost. Some people actually thought he was ghost. How stupid and foolish were some of these people. Even the guards tended to get uncomfortable around him.

He made his way down a familiar hall, and found himself in front of a familiar door. Maybe of he had been in another mindset, the door he was in front of might’ve belonged to a girl. But this one belonged to a boy,a different man that Malcolm. But, Malcolm still had his key to the room he had first came to when he arrived at Radley. He didn’t care to knock, he just simply opened the door.

The room was abandoned now The current tenant had found somewhere else to be and left his room. Malcolm looked around, analyzing every detail. It was much different than it had been when he left for the island. If Malcolm didn’t know better, than he wouldn’t have even known it was his room.

Malcolm had lived in the room like he didn’t exist. It wasn’t personalized in any way when he lived there. You wouldn’t have known that someone slept there, the bed was made each morning, the dresser was all packed away, the closet closed and the bathroom clean. He had kept it the same way he kept the basement at his fathers house. You wouldn’t have even known someone lived there.

Xander was obviously different. Things hung on the walls, a marker that someone considered this not just a place to sleep for the night but rather a personal space. Clothing was strewn across the room, obvious that someone had rushed out and not taken the time to clean up their mess. There were books on the dresser and the nightstand, water on the counter of the bathroom. Shoes were placed about, someone had come in and kicked their shoes off to relax. The bed wasn’t made.

The blond boy stood in the middle room and absorbed how different this boy was than Malcolm. The boy was obvious about how he lived, he was obviously young and a bit careless with things. Malcolm had always been meticulously neat, trying to make it seem as if he hadn’t even existed.

Malcolm moved, knowing what he was looking for. From what he had heard, Xander and Paige had made a partnership, they were friends. Malcolm had seen them together when they were training saw them talking in the mess hall. It was obviously nothing romantic, but it was friendly. Malcolm got down on his knees in front of the night stand. It was still there, Xander wouldn’t have gone looking for anything that belonged to Malcolm.

“Why the fuck are you in my room?!” Malcolm heard the voice from the door and sighed, but didn’t cease in his actions. He reached underneath the nightstand, his fingers searching for the smooth surface of a notebook. “What are you doing! Who are you?”

Malcolm felt what he wanted and pulled at it. The tape gave way and Malcolm pulled the notebook from beneath the nightstand. He stood and turned to face the boy that had entered the room. “Xander Spelling a pleasure to meet you. My name is Malcolm, Malcolm Aaron.”

Xander watched the boy move carefully. Xander was admittedly unaware of the notebook beneath the nightstand, but he hadn’t expected Malcolm himself to break into his room. “I know who you are. You’re Paiges ex.” Ex probably wasn’t a good term for it.

Malcolm laughed and walked closer to Xander, who stood his ground. The boy was obviously not intimidating, Malcolm gave him credit for that. Malcolm’s movements now possessed a sort of sluggish elegance. There was no lazy stoop to his shoulder, no antisocial slope of his back that was meant to shut the world out. As he walked closer, he fiddled with the notebook in his room running his hands over the covers.

“I assumed you would’ve by this point. The guards tend to have a quite morbid sense of humor. But what can you expect form people that get paid to guard prisoners?” Malcolm smiled slightly. He moved like the villain of a fairy tale. “Ah Paige, how is your friend? From what I hear you two are rather close as of late.”

“Jealous?” Xander asked the boy, sneering at the blond.

“Not at all.” Malcolm really didn’t care who decided to fuck Paige. They wouldn't have very much fun anyways. “I’m concerned for you though. You see, Paige Wolfe is an infection. She tends to get under people’s skin, whispering in their ear, kind little whispers that make you think that the world is just a bit brighter when she’s around. Its a game to her.”

Malcolm looked up at the other boy. They were about the same height, the same slight yet well toned build. But dark eyes met light ones in an obvious battle. “You’re a fool if you fall for it. In the end, you will give up everything for her, you will love her enough to do so. But she’s only doing this to stay alive.” Malcolm had once been willing to throw his life away for him. Thankfully, there was mercy for him.

“You’re the fool.” Xander said, and Malcolm raised his eyebrows. “You think that the therapist bitch you fuck cares for you? I doubt it. But Paige loved you, and you turned her kindness into a weapon against her. What kind of monster are you?”

Malcolm narrowed his eyes. This boy was brave if not stupid, he had a mouth on him. “Listen, Mr. Spelling. That therapist bitch I fuck, as so kindly referred t her as. There may be a day where she hold your sanity and your life in her hands. I’d avoid insulting her, because she can be quite cruel.” Malcolm would play no games with this boy.

“One day, maybe you will realize when you are falling from a cliff that she is the reason you are going to die. And then if you are lucky enough to wake up in a hospital bed a month later, maybe you won’t be so blind to her. She is manipulative, but she’s very good at being sweet.”

“They say I haunt you boy, that I am your curse. But they are wrong. She is ours, and don’t hate me for trying to help you see sense. When you are willing to die for her, she will have everything she needs. Then, she will replace you. Isn’t that what you are? You have my room, we are similar in past and in physical features. Are you not just a replacement to her?”

“You’re wrong about her.” Xander clenched his fist in anger. Malcolm smirked. He almost wished the boy would place a hand on Malcolm. He would bring Xander to his knees.

“I fucked her, I think if anyone knows her it’s me.” Malcolm walked past Xander, heading for the door. “Think about it Xander, don’t choose wrongly and jeopardize yourself for a girl. It’s not worth it, trust me.”

“You are wasted potential, Malcolm Aaron.” Xander looked at the boy that had once been kind. He had a hard time believing it after actually meetings him.

“Quite the contrary. I am the start of something greater than you can imagine.” Malcolm smiled over his shoulder, and left the room, leaving behind the last shreds of the boy he was.

#P:Mac and Xander Solo #Things That Go Bump In The Night

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Out Of Tune || Malcolm Solo

Malcolm sat in the music room, staring down at the keys. He looked at the sheet music he had picked out that afternoon, it was basic. He hadn’t played it before, but he shouldn’t have any trouble playing it. He surpassed the level of music long ago.

Let’s try this again. He told himself.

He started the music, and in the first measure, he was fine, but by the second, the music sounded wrong. He looked down at the keys, drifting across the keys. They looked out of place. Slender fingers, ones that had long since memorized every key and every note. Muscle memory that had been set in stone for years. His hands should know this piano better than the piano knew itself. This was their home.

Yet they didn’t belong. The keys wouldn’t lend themselves to him. The notes wouldn’t harmonize. The music wouldn’t play. In frustration, he slammed his hands down on the keys, and the sound the instrument made sounded much like the noise in Malcolm’s head. He leaned his forehead against the wood of the piano. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.

Any good musician cool feel and instrument like a living body. They sang, they reacted to the mood of the player. They breathed with the musician. Lately, the piano seemed more human than Malcolm did. And it was rebelling. Rejecting someone that used be able to make it sing, breathe, and sometimes even cry. Yet now, it just seemed to be screaming in his ears.

The piano was out of tune.

Or, Malcolm was out of tune.

He couldn’t deny that something just felt not quite right. A strange sense of dysphoria that usually he could push away. Mostly, he only felt it late at night. When he was laying in bed beside Tessa, who was sound asleep beside him and he suddenly felt as if he didn’t belong there. He was wearing the skin of a a soul he had stolen, and the body was rejecting him now.

Yet the piano had never rejected him. For every mood, angry, frustrated, depressed, in love. It had always played with him, feeling his emotions and easing his troubles. But it was refusing to sing, refusing to react. Refusing to be anything but a simple piano, dusty due to the loss of the one person that had cared enough to take care of it.

He swiped his hand and the sheet music went flying. He put his elbow down on the keys, making another disturbing protest. He put his fingers to his lips and took a deep breath. He was upset, he felt betrayed. As if a life long friend had turned against him. Taking one more lung full of air, he moved, going to play again.

I’ve played this riff a million times. I can do this.

He thought to himself as he started a common riff. It was supposed to sound upbeat, light hearted. Fun maybe. But instead it sounded like nails on a chalkboard to him. The tempo was off, the notes were either a hair sharp or a hair flat. He was a note behind. There were a million problems with notes that were engraved in his very bones. He let out an angry shout.

“Fine! Fuck it.” He said, pulling down the keyboard cover. Wood hit wood with a satisfying thud, and Malcolm shove back, the bench almost falling under the force. He turned to leave, not bothering to clean up the sheet music, not bothering to move the bench back in it’s proper place. Let someone else try to play that damned instrument. Because it certainly wouldn’t play for him.

#Solo #Out Of Tune #Mac Solo

paige-wolfe-blog

Angel of Small Death || Paili & Tac

mac-malcolm-blog

Malcolm laughed, watching Tessa taunt the poor girl. How cruel the red headed beauty could be. Malcolm liked how she teased Paige, and how upset Paige clearly was, watching a boy the wore the face of a man she loved, as another girl seduce him. Malcolm wondered if Paige had flashbacks of moments that her and her love had.

Malcolm surely didn’t.

“Pumpkin, how dare she turn her attention elsewhere.” Malcolm purred to Tessa, trying to encourage the happenings. “As if someone would sweep her off her feat and protect her. Wasn’t that what I was meant to do?” Malcolm looked at Paige as he said it, making sure that she could read his lips. “Love her, save her, protect her. As if she deserved any of it.”

Elijah sighed and picked the halo from the ground. There was nothing he could do. In the heirarchy of Radley, Tessa had found herself to the top of it rather quickly. She was the perfect employee, and it had been her who had help manipulate Malcolm into what he was now.

He took a swig and held the halo in his hands. Malcolm looked to Elijah. “Not going to help the poor bitch?” He asked Elijah with a smirk. Elijah shook his head. “Not my department. My job is to make sure she doesn’t kill herself because you guys find it entertaining to torture her.” Elijah took a sip from his now almost empty flask. He needed to be more drunk to deal with Malcolm Aaron.