Wednesday Workshop #1

Wednesday Workshop #1

***Note: Another new, weekly feature, using some of the prompts and workshop materials I've collected over the year. For this one, I chose Rogue, from my current WIP, Gypsy’s Rogue, a character who started off with all intentions of just being a drifter, passing through for a couple chapters. He surprised me though, I didn’t realize his feelings for Gypsy ran so deep, or that he was just as much in need of a home and stability. The interactions between the two are at times painful, steamy, and very, very sweet, and I can’t wait to see how their story turns out. *** Also reminder, Gypsy is gender fluid, so they/them pronouns are used to refer to them ***

Chose one song that best reflects your character and write a scene in which they are listening to it.

Way Beyond Empty: Zakk Wylde  

Even with the windows down it was hot, the kind of stifling heat that made breathing oppressive. Rogue wiped the sweat from his forehead and glanced across the cab of the truck to where Gypsy sat, staring off across the endless cornfields. They’d hardly said a word since the conversation with Pastor Stern and Rogue couldn’t imagine what they had to be thinking about the man, the church and their dead father.

Personally, he’d never given much thought to religion, the very nature of his upbringing had left little room for consideration for God and theology. He’d been raised on folklore and legends, stories passed down from generation to generation as life lessons and cautionary tales. It was enough to keep them from breaking any serious laws anyway, and the rest of the time, well, as long as no one was getting hurt it was all good.

He had a hard time understanding why they cared so much, and they’d come pretty close to snapping at them when they’d insisted on sitting down and hearing the Pastor out, especially after the shit he’d said to them in the grocery store. In the end though, Rogue knew he could only make his own choices and couldn’t stand in the way of Gypsy making theirs, so he’d sat quietly, and listened as the man rambled on about his kid and all the praying he’d been doing over how to deal with her.

Like there was anything wrong with a chick liking chicks. Maybe if more people were honest about who they cared about the world would be a happier place, but what did he know?

Fiddling with the radio, he tried to dial in a station that wasn’t country, getting discouraged when the only other one he came across was the gospel channel, then he heard it, those familiar cords, strummed with aching precision, the opening notes to Zakk Wylde’s Way Beyond Empty. Cranking it up, he hit a rut, the pair of them bouncing along that half washed out road towards the back side of the property to unload the truck, the words filling in the silent gap between them as Rogue took every one to heart.

Because the truth was, he was scared. Everything was so new, so fragile, he was afraid of saying the wrong thing and fucking it up. He was afraid of trying to protect Gypsy and failing, ‘cause there were never any guarantees about forgiveness.  He wanted to make them happy, help make the place thrive and grow, but if he couldn’t catch on fast enough, or if it was just too much would they send him down the road, and leave him as broken and empty as the muse in the song?

Reaching for their hand, he knew it was childish, he was too old to need physical reassurance that everything was okay. So then why did his heart feel like it was crushed just a little bit, when Gypsy pulled away?