LIKE A MILLION LIGHTS. /david

[AMANDA JANE STEVENS]

Amanda's brown boots hit the pavement in a slapping sound as she focused on getting as far away from that place as possible. It was the truth to say that she'd never run so fast or so hard in her entire life. Mason was cruel, cruel and disgusting and she was pretty sure he was going to catch her up. She was running out of steam and her breath was heavy. Tears were streaming down her pale face as her shoes continued pounding the pavement. Her nose was stuffy and she really wanted to stop and just die. She was mortified and scared, she hated him so much. More than she'd ever hated anyone in her entire existence.

This had been the worst day of her entire life. Amanda wiped tears off of her face as she halted her running for a moment to catch her breath. She was completely terrified, she'd never been touched like that in her life. Amanda felt disgusting and scared. She knew that that man was bad news from the beginning and being taken to a secluded place was the icing on the cake. Her head swiveled around to look back to where she'd come from, she was terrified that he was after her. The only reason she'd managed to get away from Mason was because she'd kneed him in the groin. It was something that always seemed to knock men off their game, probably had something to do with the extreme pain that accompanied getting hit there. She pulled her coat around her tight and sniffled a little. She really wanted this day to be over right now.

Amanda swallowed back a sob and started running again. She wanted to see someone familiar, someone from the band would be nice. She hated crying in front of people she didn't know, in fact she hated showing emotions in front of people. She started running again, harder and faster than before. She hoped that the faster she ran the sooner it would all be over, that she could comfort herself in the bathroom with her blade and cry herself to sleep. Amanda slowed her running a little when she felt she was semi-safe. She dandered a glance backwards to see if he was there he wasn't there. She turned back around and ran into something or rather someone. Amanda looked up cautiously, hoping that she hadn't run into undesirable number one.

wearing

[DAVID ANTHONY HARLEM]

<sub>David's world was a warm, purple haze when he heard the oncoming footfall. He'd been sitting on one of the picnic tables, close to the parking lot, enjoying a quiet roach and watching the stars. He felt smooth and detached, winking back at Orion as the celestial hunter swung his giant club.

Sucking a breath from the joint, he raised his eyes, cocking his head as the heavy plodding of rushing feet became audible to his ears. The boy gave a soft, mild swear, stubbing the thing out on the table-top and tucking it away on his person. All of his band mates knew he wasn't anything like sober. He drank openly around them, and drunk more often then not in the evenings. He was a functioning alcoholic; he could manage fine, his judgment was just, at times, impaired. The business of illegal substances, though, was a different matter. He went about that activity privately, out of respect for the people he shared a bus with.

He knew Jon was around, somewhere, and Anya, and wasn't willing to gamble that the wayward footsteps did not belong to them. He stood from the picnic table, turning to address who ever was approaching.

He didn't immediately recognize the owner of the combat boots. It only registered that the person in question was undoubtedly upset and moving a little too quickly to avoid collision with. David skipped back a step, but not soon enough to save her from running into his chest.

David reached out to steady her. "Hey man, sorry..." He caught sight of her face, and recognition bloomed inside of him. It was the girl, Amanda. "Where's the fire?"</sub>

My Heart Beat 305 Times for You
OUTFIT

[AMANDA JANE STEVENS]

It wasn't him, it was David. Relief flooded through her veins at the realization. She let out a sob and clung to the front of his shirt. It didn't even matter that she barely even knew him, it was just nice to see someone she knew who wasn't going to hurt her in anyway. She let another violent sob shake through her body as she clutched his shirt tighter, she didn't feel like composing herself right then and there. Amanda wanted to let some frustrations out before she attempted to tackle the damming up of her tear ducts. She pressed her face into his chest. Even though her stuffed up nose and panicked person she could smell something on him. She didn't let it bother her, of course, for two reason; one was that she really didn't hold any power over what he did with his life. The second was that she probably couldn't get more upset than she already was. It wasn't everyday that some asshole decided to take her away from the crowd and feel her up. That asshole took a piece of her that she'd never get back, her first fucking kiss. Could it have even been considered that when she didn't welcome it? Probably, his lips had been on hers, much to her dismay.

She shook her head silently, not really wanting to speak out loud for fear of what distressed noise she might make. Amanda pressed her face into him harder, hoping that it would make everything go away, hoping that she'd wake from this awful nightmare in her bed. However, she knew this was real. She knew deep inside that it wasn't going to change anytime soon, that sucked for her. Why did it have to be a monster? Why couldn't it have been someone who she remotely liked? Like David, he was nice and attractive.

[DAVID ANTHONY HARLEM]

<sub>"Woah," muttered the boy, taken aback by her outburst. He hesitated for only the briefest of moments before setting his hands on her shoulders, disrupting her hair accidentally. His instinct with any woman who's face was burrowed into his chest was to hold onto them, and while it might have been poor conduct, considering what ever trauma she may have just encountered, his judgement was only the slightest bit impaired. He let one arm circle further around her. "Hey. What happened? You get hurt or something?"

Her behavior was a small shock to his system, and his reaction time was, admittedly, a little slower than it had been earlier in the week. She had been all but frigid before. He could only guess at what had unleashed the tempest.


"Come on. Sit down. Tell me what happened." Dave tried to usher her towards the picnic table. He considered inviting her into the bus, just fifty feet away, but he had the slightest concern that she might fall apart in the effort of walking.</sub>

[AMANDA JANE STEVENS]

Get hurt? She only wished, pain would have been nice right about now, maybe it'd wake her up if it was a dream. Pain would have felt great, she could just imagine the memory going away as she slid a razor blade over her tender upper stomach. Maybe she should get away from him and compose herself enough to just walk away and find her bus and her razor; however, for whatever reason she didn't actually believe that he'd let her do that. He probably wouldn't believe her when she said she was okay, which would have been correct, much to her dismay. Why was it so difficult to just let someone in? It's not like they could cause more damage, well possibly there was still the chance that they could hurt her worse. Not worse than Mason, of course. She shook her head to his question, she wasn't seriously injured, just dirty. His arm had brought some sort of comfort to her upset state. Her sobs stopped to be replaced by silent tears and heavy breathing.

Amanda allowed him to pull her over to the picnic table, in all honesty he could probably do anything to her and get away with it. She had no more fight left in her, the only thing she really wanted to do was climb into her bed and cry herself to sleep. She wiped her eyes on his shirtfront a little before looking up at him, her eyes puffy and red and her face stained with tears. It was a fact that she'd have to relay what happened to her, although she'd try to leave out as much as possible. Maybe he'd believe her if she said someone was just mean to her. Not likely, she'd never cry in public for something like that. "I... I... He... It..." She stammered unsure of how to start this.

[DAVID ANTHONY HARLEM]

ooc: They're perfect for each-other in ways his bio doesn't cover.

bic:

<sub>Hell, she felt frail. David felt a tremor of recognition rumble through him as her words came out as smoothly as pulled teeth. He wasn't the sort to hold back from instinct, reaching out to -- gently -- finger-comb her hair from her face. It was a serious matter he'd stumbled into, but he still couldn't get past it in his head that she was breath-taking even in the dark, even after crying. His hand rose to her cheek, thumbing a tear away before it could even occur to him that he might be invasive.

He sat back from her a little, then, hand on her elbow, his face evolving in earnest from sober to stern. "Did someone touch you? Like, put their hands on you wrong?" It would make perfect sense. He looked up the way she'd come, as if whoever was responsible would be there.</sub>

[AMANDA JANE STEVENS]

Her eyes moved up to his face to the feeling of his fingers touching her hair. It was nice someone touching her in a way that wasn't in malice. The feeling of someone comforting her may have been the only thing she missed about her parents; the way her father used to pull her onto his lap and hug her and the feeling of her mother hugging her closely. Amanda felt safe now, safe from Mason and safe from the feeling of his hands touching where they really shouldn't have touched. Her eyes shut when he touched her face and she calmed further. Amanda's tears had stopped falling from her eyes and she was well on her way back to normal, not that it could really be considered normal.

Amanda looked at him for a second, unsure of what to say. She clenched her eyes shut tight and nodded. Yes, yes he'd touched her wrong, he'd touched her in places she didn't want anyone to ever touch her. "Yes." she whispered quietly, opening her eyes up to look at him. She decided finally that it wasn't her bed she wanted to go to, it was home... but she'd never leave the tour.

[DAVID ANTHONY HARLEM]

<sub>David's face grew harder still. His voice bore a steely edge when it slipped like a razor-blade out of his mouth. "Just tell me who the fuck it was and I'll beat the shit out of them, right now." This wasn't a question of impressing the girl, or chivalry; it was fucking code. This was tour. This was about music, not bad intentions, and someone had had the fucking balls to put their hands on a girl wrong. "I'll bring our bass with me. He's a moose."

All the while his hands stayed on her hair and her shoulders, though his touch and energy had grown urgent. David was self-professed to be all passion and no ponder. He had his personal guidelines, and he enforced them. David loved girl. He loved the way they looked and felt and sounded. There were ways that you got close to them. Force was not one of them.</sub>

[AMANDA JANE STEVENS]

Amanda shook her head frantically and frowned, "Please don't leave me." She said loudly reaching forward to cling to his arm. Being alone was one of the last things she wanted right now, that and Mason was huge. Mason was the tallest man she'd really ever seen up close. Amanda didn't even want him to get into a fight on her account. She hated violence especially if it was on her account. Her eyes looked at him, pooling with tears again, pleading with him not to go. "Please." She whispered once again, softer and less frantic than before, her still hand clutching his arm tightly. If he left her she would break down and she'd just sit where she was feeling dead.

The cool air against her tear soaked face made her feel colder than she already was. Her body was shaking from what had occurred earlier. She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her jacket and swallowed. Amanda took in a shaky breath and looked down to where she was touching his arm, "I just..." She swallowed and sniffled, "I don't want to be alone."

[/b] Her voice was still quiet and shaky, as if she was going break under any pressure at all.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

[DAVID ANTHONY HARLEM]

David paused, poised between storming off to restore some sense of justice, and staying where his feet were planted. His lips hung open a fraction, his face a complication of anger. Her voice was what restrained him. There was no fight he was afraid of, even when the outcome obviously would be his face in the floor somewhere. He's torched most of the sensible parts of his brain a long time ago.

She looked and sounded undeniably desolate, though, and her tears -- cooling on his shirt, wet on his skin -- were like a brick wall. He sighed, frustrated, clearly itching to go and start shit up, and sat again with her, taking her hand with whatever poise he still had between the high and his anger.

"Fine, but come inside, it's fucking freezing out here." He swore constantly as it was, and the situation at hand only increased the habit in spades. "That's our bus. Our bass is probably snoozing in there, and a couple other girls, possibly. It's real safe, and no one'll bother you I promise." If anything, he had to get her out of the cold.

At least she was feeling something. At least she wasn't stuck in shock. Emotions had to breathe, or they swallowed you up from the inside.

[AMANDA JANE STEVENS]

Amanda looked at him sternly, she really didn't want him to get hurt or to hurt anyone. It was wrong to hurt people, sure he'd hurt her, but when did two wrongs make a right? When did revenge ever make anyone feel better? Never, never was the answer. Never in a million years. That was another thing that she'd learned from her parents, especially when she and her brother would get into trouble. Those phrases had been repeated over and over again through her childhood, it was any wonder that she never tolerated people she liked and loved doing wrong things to spite those that hurt them. She felt that his resolve was falling and she'd soon win and he'd leave Mason alone. It didn't matter though, she would have refused to give him the name and he never would have found him. Him, she felt like he was going to star in a few of her nightmares, a thought that she was not looking forward to at all.

She relaxed a little and agreed, nodding a little. Amanda could live with that decision. It wasn't as if she was scared of David, just the monster that had taken her innocence hostage for a bit of the night. Her head nodded again more definite this time, "Okay." she said softly standing up a slowly. Amanda forced a smiled, although it obviously didn't meet her eyes. She nodded again and reached for his hand gently. Her nerves were eased with his explanation of who would be in the bus. Amanda bit her bottom lip and swallowed hard. "Thank you." she said softly looking down at the cold looking dark ground. The sooner she was out of somewhere Mason could be the better.

[DAVID ANTHONY HARLEM]

<sub>Indeed, had David known the man responsible, the reaction would have been doubled, and there certainly would have been no way, come Hell or Highwater, that the 'Halfway Sober' screamer would have boarded their bus. David harbored an animosity for the entire band that he made no great effort to conceal. It was jealousy, of course, of their sound, reputation and fan-base, but he never would have admitted to it.

He tucked an arm around her, against the cold, and cast one more look in the direction which she'd come from. He wouldn't press her about the situation for now. The very idea of it seemed likely to loosen the last string holding her together. He turned himself towards the bus.

It was a whale of a thing, the tour-bus. David loved it almost as much as he loved the conventional home waiting for him back in California, should he ever have occasion to return. It was safe and quiet and, inside, felt removed from what ever unwanted elements lurked outside.

The lights were on, glowing faintly behind the tinted windows. He could hear the murmur of someone's music playing over the sound system, one of the many constants in the bus. He wondered, briefly, what state he'd left his bunk in, but dismissed the thought just as quickly. It wasn't as if anyone on tour could judge.

He opened the door for her, calling out into the vessel to find out if life was present. "Yo! Boarding with company! Make yourselves decent."</sub>

[AMANDA JANE STEVENS]

Amanda latched onto his side as they began to walk towards the bus. She wasn't sure about this, she wasn't sure about anything. In her mind she really wanted to just pretend that nothing happened, but her lips were soiled with his disgusting lips. She needed something to cleanse them from that thing. Amanda shook those out of her head and focused on what was happening right here and right now. That was the most important thing right now, knowing that she was safe and he couldn't touch her. It was over and she was okay... mostly. She was okay in the sense that she wasn't physically hurt, but emotionally she was completely wrecked. Her mind was all over the place and she still felt like curling up into a ball and crying like a baby. She doubted that anyone would really blame her for doing those things in after what happened. To be honest after what had happened she doubted she'd even care about people judging her for crying about it. "I-if it makes you feel better I kicked him." She said looking up at him. Technically it wasn't kicking, it was kneeing, but it did happen. It had also happened in a pretty sensitive area.

She heard him without really hearing him, meaning that what he said went into her ears just didn't register in her mind. Amanda followed him into the bus quietly. She didn't know what to do or to say to him, to anyone. Her mouth stayed shut. Her eyes squinted as she walked into the light, it was nearly blinding after being out in the dark for so long. The light made her feel like the nightmare was slowly coming to a close.

[DAVID ANTHONY HARLEM]

<sub>"That makes me feel a lot better, actually, but I'm still kinda worried about you." David hoped the bastard testicles crawled up inside his body and stayed there. "Grab a seat at the table -- or on my bunk, if you want. It's kind of cramped, though." She'd have to physically bend over to be able to sit on it, but David had seen people get very creative about how they situated themselves.

He pulled the door closed and, as an after thought, locked it, purely for her reassurance. He turned around, pulling his sweat-shirt off and over his head and tossing it , balled up, into his bunk. "I think you need some hot chocolate or something." It wasn't much of a question. He was already going for the tin of powder they kept in the tiny faux-kitchen setting.

In the light of the van, with his arms bare, more of his ink was visible. His right arm was just as occupied, the inside of which filled by a sea of zombies, with a lone gunman, center, a riffle in either hand. The scarring on the right arm was deeper and more apparent, the malicious intent of their placement clear. They were just pale reminders, though. He hadn't taken a razor to his arm in a couple years.

He could hear no one else moving around, at present, though the soft buzz of Jon's snoring in the very back of the van, where there was a full bed, could be heard. They tended to crash back there from time to time, though they had their tiny bunk-beds to call home.

David's was disheveled at the moment, unmade from when he'd crawled out of it this morning. If one were to pull the tiny black curtain back and peer inside, they would find he'd gone through the standard procedure of taping up pictures of friends, family and lyrics on the walls of the confined space. There was a picture of a husky-dog, too, and some others that were obviously bands, some feature David looking overly-enthused about standing next to them.</sub>

[AMANDA JANE STEVENS]

Amanda pulled of her coat that had been sitting over her gray skimpy gray tank top. She lay her coat somewhere where she wouldn't forget it. What she had on was not her normal attire, but it was okay for covering her body for the most part. All of the tattoos on her arms were visible, the German on the backs, the dagger, and the code of arms. She crossed her arms against the upper part of her stomach, as if he'd be able to sense where she dug the razor into her own flesh, where the scabs of all of her misdoings. All of her feelings, everything negative she felt was on display right there on her stomach. She pulled her arms into her body further, as if to try and hold her together. It was like she was made of glass and would break without her arms holding her body together.

She watched him from where she was, standing awkwardly. Her eyes flicked over to one of the seats that she could place herself in and opted for the couch. She placed her body delicately on the edge of the couch and leaned over her knees looking down at the ground. "Yeah. He was in a lot of pain." She said quietly, it was probably an understatement. When she'd left him he'd been doubled over in absolute agony, he'd only sobered up enough to call her some profane things before she'd gotten out of hearing range. Nothing he'd said really stuck with her... well, nothing besides being called a bitch. Was it a bitch he called her? Bitch or something else along those lines, he wasn't a very friendly character to say the least. Amanda looked up to watch him closely, her eyes examined the tattoos she'd examined just a few days before. She bit her lip gently and make a snap decision. "You said you had other tattoos?"

[/b] She asked, hoping that he could show them to her. He'd also asked her to make him a tattoo design, but she hadn't really thought about it since then. If he showed Amanda his tattoos it probably wouldn't be fair because it was doubtful she'd risk showing him hers. The ones she hadn't shown him were on her lower stomach, the doves and the ray gun, and then the other one on her back, the superwoman one. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify]