Chris or Lance... ..or any *Nsyncer, lol

[ninjetti75.livejournal.com]

I want song-fic, Pink's "Just Like A Pill". Literal or allagorical, one of the guys struggles angstily, but pulls through whatever the problem is in the end.

This song just flows so neat, and I totally love the fact that although it's subject is VERY angsty, there's a complete "never say die" attitude that refuses to submit running through it.

And I like the way the chorus & refrain loop through each other, swapping "ill" for "run" to start the freedom-mantra all over again...

I suppose whomever the "You" is, who is just like a pill, could make this a pairing story, but I'm either way about it. The "pill" partner is probably a bad guy, & I like my guys good, usually, and not crossovery, but HEY! Go with whatever works to make the story happen, y'know?

Thanks in advance, posting lyrics as first comment.

Comments

Lyrics to Pink's "Just Like A Pill"

[ninjetti75.livejournal.com]

I'm lyin' here on the floor, where you left me; I think I took too much. I'm cryin' here, what have you done? I thought it would be fun

Refrain
I can't stay on your Life support; there's a shortage in the switch. I can't stay on your morphine, 'cause it's making me itch. I said I tried to call the nurse again, but she's being a little bitch. I think I'll get outta here, where I can...

Chorus
..Run. Just as fast as I can. To the middle of nowhere, to the middle of my frustrated fears. And I swear, you're just like a pill; instead of making me better, y'keep making me ill. Keep making me... ill.

I haven't moved from the spot where you left me, must be a bad trip. All of the other pills, they were different; maybe I should get some help

Refrain, Chorus Chorus Refrain, Chorus twice -Repeat & Fade

[http://users.livejournal.com/_crumbledstar/]

I really hope this is okay. I've always liked this song, so I tried my hardest to write something worth reading!

******************************

I'm lyin' here on the floor, where you left me;
I think I took too much.
I'm cryin' here, what have you done?
I thought it would be fun.

Lance sat at his kitchen table, the ceramic coffee mug just beyond his clasped hands. He stared at a spot on the wall opposite him, never blinking. His house was silent as his mind whirred through different images of the night before.

Nothing he remembered mattered now, because he was alone again. Alone – just like every other time he brought the guy home for the night. Nothing ever changed; the DVD of his life seemed only to play the same frames over and over.

The same situations, the same end results. The same excitement, the same heartache. It was all the same.

I can't stay on your life support; there's a shortage in the switch.
I can't stay on your morphine, 'cause it's making me itch.
I said I tried to call the nurse again, but she's being a little bitch.
I think I'll get outta here, where I can run just as fast as I can.
To the middle of nowhere, to the middle of my frustrated fears.
And I swear, you're just like a pill;
Instead of making me better, y'keep making me ill.

With no one to pick up his broken pieces, he knew something had to change. His green eyes hardened, seeming to drill a hole in the wall. His mind shifted gears and he slowly stood up. The mug remained on the table and his arms fell to his sides as he turned towards the stairs.

He headed for the second floor, his eyes still focused straight ahead of him. The bedroom door hung open and he could see his shoes haphazardly strewn about the floor and was amazed that he hadn’t tripped on his way downstairs that morning. And there was the shirt that had been ripped off the night before hanging from the corner of his dresser. He picked it up, feeling the cotton between his fingers. Bringing the shirt closer to his face, Lance could smell faint traces of his enchanting date. Instead of lighting up his eyes with remembrance, the scent caused his stomach to turn over. He pulled the shirt away, knowing last night could never, ever, happen again.

Lance spent the rest of the afternoon in his room, removing anything that reminded him of his repeat rendezvous. Any individual article of clothing, any ticket stub, any gift given to him – it was all put in a box and later taken to the curb outside.

He wouldn’t put himself through it again.
I thought it would be fun.
Instead of making me better, y'keep making me ill.

[ninjetti75.livejournal.com]

Oh, Very Nice!!!

*applauds*

That worked really well, I enjoyed it, a lot!

Thanks So Much!!!

And it =is= a great song, isn't it? I love the high-speed dance mix, too! ^_^

[http://users.livejournal.com/_crumbledstar/]

I'm so glad you liked it!!
I was extremely worried that it was poo, so I was actually very unsure about posting it.
But now I feel better!!

[lincolnkw.livejournal.com]

kudos. This was darkly satisfying. Went well with my mood tonight.

Lovely song. Good ficlet.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_crumbledstar/]

Thank you muchly!