Envy (David)
His fingers danced over the ivory keys as the fans screamed and sang along to each song. Music was a passion but why did he have to be “Jon’s backup”?
Jon’s backup?
Where was his recognition? It was Jon that was in the spotlight. The band was an afterthought, if even in his mind.
David glared over at Jon who commanded the spotlight. Of course, he’d say nothing. That was the plan, right? Be the silent supporter to the frontman.
He’d given up everything to help out his friend. Too late to go back now, and too late to quit.
Gluttony (Richie)
Blazing fire surrounded the plump, sweating man who sat alone on the hot ground, burning his pale skin. “Make it stop.”
A pitiful whimper.
His naked body shook as he sobbed. A trickle of blood trailed down his chin, dripping crimson onto Richie's bare chest. “Help…”
His life had been filled with excess, in death he received more. Richie moaned and opened his eyes. His mouth was pried open, the burning liquid forced down his throat.
He fought against it, to no avail. Couldn’t turn his head, no savior in sight. Richie choked on the alcohol as it filled him.
Pride (Jon)
Pride…vanity…call it whatever.
Jon stood in front of the mirror, getting his hair to set just right. He was perfect; therefore it had to remain perfect. No one could do it better than him.
Didn’t matter what the guys said, he was the best…he was the spotlight. He was the man everyone wanted to see. “Jealous?”
Sure the guys complained…who cares! Jon was above them. He knew it…they all did. No he didn’t say job well done. They can do better.
But he was perfect. Every show, he was perfect. Fans treated him like God.
He smirked at his reflection.
Lust (David and Tico)
Oh how I longed for the touch of his lips, the feel of his body against mine. No less than a desire to taste him on my tongue.
Those long slender fingers to tangle in my hair, oh god I would be his. I would give myself gladly to him. I knocked on his door and smiled as his chocolate brown eyes met my blue ones.
A jolt shot through my body, his hand on my back, gripping my shirt. “I thought you’d never get here.” His warm breath on my skin. I melted and the door shut behind me.
Wrath (Richie and David)
Tonight was different. Why wouldn’t David look at him? Was there someone else?
“Richie, you’re losing it,” David complained when confronted, turning to leave the staging area.
“David…” He yelled out, the cold metal against his stomach. “Don’t walk away from me!” His head smashed against the concrete. Two shots rang out.
Blood trickled from his lips, his blond curls resting in the small crimson pool. The man above him trembled, the blood of his friend now on his hands.
David’s blue eyes stared, unmoving. Richie stepped in front and leaned in to kiss David’s bloody cheek. “Goodnight, my love.”
Sloth (Alec)
Alec just didn’t care anymore. So what if the band hated him? He didn’t want to be on stage anymore. The public eye…he was sick of it. He’d fuck up any song he wanted…who cares?
That is if he showed up at all. Studio sessions were even worst, Jon constantly on his case about his bass playing. How many times had he walked out now?
David tried telling him about his “talent he’s wasting”. Yep…good ole Dave, the motivating retard.
Alec raised his beer to his lips, emptying the bottle. It was the last time he’d ever see them again.
Greed (Jon)
Jon stared at his bank account. Paying the band…tedious work. Yeah, Richie got the most besides Jon. David got slightly less, Tico even less…down and down the roster.
Sure they complained, but he was the boss. No, they didn’t get as much as he did. Jon got the bulk of the money once lawyers and shit were paid.
No amount of whining would change that.
It was HIS band…HE was the leader…HE was the main songwriter…Yeah, Richie helped, yeah David did too.
Did he care? Not in the fucking slightest. Money sent out. Fuck them if they had money issues.
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