Dominic awoke in a haze. He acknowledged the enhanced tinted window screens and knew they must have been meticulously replaced by Raina as he slept. Dreams still clung to his conscious mind and he realized he had been onstage entertaining the masses again. He missed the feel of the cold microphone against his lips. Somehow, the mic had always felt as though it were an extension of him – like some instrument of veracity that tempted the truth out of him. Behind it, he was transformed to his most primal self and his creativity was given open rein over his entire being.
He admitted to himself, reluctantly, that the world he had chosen to immerse himself in appealed greatly to the intellectual and power hungry parts of him, the ones that wanted to supervise the minions and control public order. There was something about such control that was undeniably irresistible, but it did not have the power to fulfill the other parts of him and lately, the other parts had become hungry, loud, and very much in need of attention.
Though there were similarities between his position as a leader and his time spent onstage, it had become clear to him that it would not be enough to sustain him like he had hoped. Just like in the old days when he had controlled an audience, his new followers looked up to him with respect and a little bit of fear for his position. But it was the differences between his two worlds that were starting to get to him. Rules and boundaries were forcing him into distraction and because of it, he was becoming more careless. Something nagged at him from within and he knew that if he didn’t make a decision by the time he made it to Lucius, one would be made for him and it might not be the one he wanted.
Dominic followed the same path that he used to take when he and his band mates were headed to a gig. He had left his pack behind, sleeping comfortably in their motel beds and completely unaware that he had broken his own rule to stay together. Thoughts of Raina and Jarek finding each other in his absence forced his hand to his pocket and he stopped to pull a cigarette from its box. His pack was not a part of this. This quest belonged to him and him alone. He lit the cigarette and inhaled the delicious toxins until visions of his new life dissipated entirely; only then did he continue walking.
The simple act of following his same old steps seemed to awaken the sleeping memories that still lived deep inside of him into an almost violent state of awareness. The familiar thoughts that arose shook to life the old feelings that used to be attached to them and before Dominic knew it, he was experiencing the path to the bar just as he used to. In his new awareness, his band mates were trudging behind, weighted down by their instruments but energized by their excitement. He became excited by the old sensations and couldn’t fight the impulse to turn around and check on his friends, but saw instead that he was alone. The mission was still a solo one and he did not have the power to think them back into existence, something he had wished for since the day he’d left them.
Though his senses were all on high alert, the one that led him with such conviction of direction was the auditory army that seemed to march heavily throughout his awareness, leaving notes and lyrics in its wake. He allowed his ears to direct his legs as he took in