Bad Romance

The early morning sun cast the glint of red around the room in my office at the Grid Rock complex. I look a midget sitting at my large Glass Desk typing away feverously on the keypad. My office sits above the green room next to the stage. Much has changed in the long wintry months. I sit on my lonesome writing the next chapter in my "restrained rehabilitation" series of stories.

My bare feet scrape across the floor, looking rather unremarkable. The once turbulent life dancing and managing places of ill-repute is long gone. In a rather strange turn of events I went from managing a BDSM style Dance Club formerly a brothel also managed by yours truly to Director of Grid Rock Entertainment, "the roughest hard rock club in the virtual world" as we sell ourselves as.

Somehow I found music rather than god. My eyes were opened quite sometime ago to the true power of music whilst in the role of "Executive Director" Phoenix Club back in the Soho area of Virtual London. Yet another self styled Dance , brothel club too many to my resume, each one leaving a scare yet providing me with experience in the operation of running virtual world clubs.

It was in those days of wild parties on the dirty streets of the Soho that I gained exposure to music. You can use all kinds of gimmicks and campaigns to attract people to a club yet build a stage, advertise a concert in the park and put talented musicians on the stage and people from all walks of life stand side by side. This left a mark on me a positive one, an idea to fester in my mind til the day arose as it did.

I sink back into my chair, look at the ceiling. I have a good job, one to be proud of, I have my quiet lil seaside village home complete with nice gardens only a short walk from the local tavern, yet I am lonely, and not just because I am sitting quietly in the dawn of a new day.

Sami is no where to be seen, yet I am sure she will resurface as she often does. It is fair to say that our relationship is not based on traditional monogamist beliefs it has stood the test of time. I believe this due mainly due to the one key element that has killed much traditional relationship that is "communication".

little "love you's" and simple actions , mixed with good communication keep a flame flickering that has been burning for over two years now, somewhat of a record in this virtual world. To others it would just seem to be nothing more than a bad romance.

I take my heart and mind to extremes at times. I've sold everything but my heart and soul in this place at times; I've taken my sanity to limit. I've been stalked, abused, slapped, whipped, and chained.

Hell I remember a time I was chained to a cross, beaten and whipped as punishment, poor thing gave up an let me go in the end, my devious wit, humour was too much for him, yes the whipped left marks with each lash, my retaliatory responses would leave onlookers in stitches.

You can whip me, beat me but you will never break my spirit or scare my soul I would say. The thing with Sami is I could walk in through the door battered, bruised, scarred and smelling like I’d spent a night in the ghetto's earning money the only way I knew how, yet she would dust me over and accept me for who I am regardless, the second key element in an otherwise bad romance "Unwavering Devotion".

Yet in my lone office I look out over the water under a full sun and think the winter is long, I wait for the season to change and my Sami to return. I ponder to myself what it would take for someone to capture my heart, hell not as though people haven't tried.

The large sum of money and promise of healthy weekly allowance wont work, relationships are not just about great sex either so take your ego elsewhere i say , so what would it take.

So I pick up a pen and scribble a few things in my diary:

1. They would have to hold my heart on an elastic band sometimes I need to be pulled back from messy situations.

2. They would need to be there to provide me safe comfort; dealing with musicians with large egos sometimes has gets nasty.

3. They would need to be able to communicate with me.

4. They would need to be able to love me unconditionally.

I stop I look down at the pad four dot points written almost as if by someone else, I notice no mention of sex. That’s because for me even in a bad romance that is no so essential.

I pick up my pencil again I circle the four dot points and write the word utopia, I will settle now for my bad romance till that day utopia walks in the front door and leads me out the back to paradise.

Oz ☺