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"Vivendo il sogno americano" Chap 9 - I have a story to tell from my electrical well

About "Vivendo il sogno americano" Chap 9

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“Vivendo il sogno americano” Chap 9

Author: mcr_blue_canary
Rating: PGish for now
POV: Matt’s, 3rd person
Pairing: implied Derek x Travis, Matt x Sonny, Evan x Sonny
Summary: Matt is 18 and his brother Evan (http://community.livejournal.com/fftlove/3715.html#cutid1) is 16. Travis and Derek are also 18. They all live in Orlando. Matt’s mother decides to take in a foreign exchange student from Sicily (the little island that the Italian boot is kicking); his name is Sonny and he’s 16. Matt doesn’t quite like this idea and decides to make Sonny’s stay as hellious as possible…until he starts to fall for little Sonny…
Disclaimer: NOT true. Happened in my head, obviously…
Author’s Note: THANK YOU so fucking much to anybody (and everybody) who reads/comments my stories!! I appreciate it SO much!!! ^_^

Chapter 1: http://mcr-blue-canary.livejournal.com/7865.html
Chapter 2: http://mcr-blue-canary.livejournal.com/8320.html
Chapter 3: http://mcr-blue-canary.livejournal.com/8485.html
Chapter 4: http://mcr-blue-canary.livejournal.com/8964.html
Chapter 5: http://mcr-blue-canary.livejournal.com/9949.html
Chapter 6: http://mcr-blue-canary.livejournal.com/10311.html
Chapter 7: http://mcr-blue-canary.livejournal.com/11075.html
Chapter 8: http://mcr-blue-canary.livejournal.com/11878.html

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‘Like last time text in italics and apostrophes stands for thoughts’

Those two fuckers have been gone for a while. I was really looking forward to taking Sonny out today, too! Fucking asshole brother! Oh well, tomorrow Sonny is mine, damn it!
Since, I’ve been left alone to my own devices, my first move is to invade Evan’s room. I search around, seeing if there’s anything I want to “borrow,” as well as liberating any of my items he “borrowed.” In the rummaging process, I manage to knock over his trashcan. Shit. It’s laying on its side, and I put my hand on the bottom of it any try to scoop everything back in. I feel a paper stuck to the bottom. After I get the contents back inside, I lift the can over my head to see what’s stuck on the bottom. I see an envelope taped on. Curiously, I open it. Inside is cash! So that’s where the little fucker’s been hidin’ it! I take out everything and count it. Three hundred and twenty-five dollars! Sweet! I take a fifty, no wait, he’ll notice that much is gone…might as well take it all…no then he’ll tell mom…I debate the problem for awhile than stick with the initial fifty. That’ll pay for Sonny and my date tomorrow.
I head back to my room and flop on my bed. I turn on my music and lay there for a moment. After a few minutes, I hear raindrops falling. I look out the window as it starts to pour. Sweet. Sometimes I really like the rain.
I walk outside, and let the raindrops hit my upturned face. I go into the quiet street, since the grass is muddy. I feel like dancing, so I do. I dance around the road wildly. I wish Sonny were here. Of no matter, I can have fun anyway. I sing aloud nonsense lyrics I make up as I go.
Unfortunately the rain subsides rather quickly. I sigh and flop down in the biggest puddle. I splash the water around aimlessly, waiting, almost religiously, for the rain to start again.
A few sprinkles came down like a mist. I stand up and it starts pouring soon after. I commence my dance again. I start to sing again; this time I choose Jenny Lewis, “You Are What You Love.”
This is no great illusion
When I'm with you I'm looking for a ghost
Or invisible reasons
To fall out of love and run screaming from our home
Because we live in a house of mirrors
We see our fears and everything
Our songs, faces, and second hand clothes
But more and more we're suffering
Not nobody, not a thousand beers
Will keep us from feeling so all alone
But you are what you love
And not what loves you back
That's why I'm here on your doorstep
Pleading for you to take me back
The phone is a fine invention
It allows me to talk endlessly to you
About nothing disguising my intentions
Which I'm afraid, my friend, are wildly untrue
It's a sleight of hand, a white soul band
The heart attacks I'm convinced I have
Every morning upon waking
To you I'm a symbol or a monument
Your rite of passage to fulfillment
But I'm not yours for the taking
But you are what you love
And not what loves you back
So I guess that's why you keep calling me back
I'm fraudulent, a thief at best
A coward who paints a bullshit canvas
Things that will never happen to me
But at arms length, it's him who said
I'm good at it, I've mastered it
Avoiding, avoiding everything
But you are what you love
And not what loves you back
And I'm in love with illusions
So saw me in half
I'm in love with tricks
So pull another rabbit out of your hat


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When the rain let up, Evan and Sonny started to make their way home. Midway, the rain reappeared. When they turn the corner to their street, they see Matt dancing in the road. He doesn’t notice them as they approach. They can hear him singing,
...The heart attacks I'm convinced I have
Every morning upon waking
To you I'm a symbol or a monument
Your rite of passage to fulfillment
But I'm not yours for the taking
But you are what you love
And not what loves you back
So I guess that's why you keep calling me back
I'm fraudulent, a thief at best
A coward who paints a bullshit canvas
Things that will never happen to me…


The words strike Sonny as if it were a physical blow. “But I'm not yours for the taking”
‘He isn’t mine; no matter how much I want him—I ruined that. But I wonder if I can still dance with him?’
“God, he’s retarded,” Evan whispers.

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When I finish singing, I hear clapping. This scares the shit outta me and I jump. I turn around to see a giggling Sonny and mocking little brother.
“What the fuck, sneakin’ up on me like that?!”
“We were pretty obvious, Jenny.” Evan taunts.
“Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh” I say in a high pitch tone.
Sonny smiled shyly, “I want to dance,” he whispers, barely audible.
Instantly, I grab his hand and start to dance. He smiles beautifully. We dance in the rain and I suppose it makes up for not being able to take him out earlier. Evan glares at us and I stick my tongue out at him. He flicks me off, but I don’t care because I have Sonny in my arms and he doesn’t. I realize he probably doesn’t care that I’m dating Sonny, but it’s fun to pretend I won anyway.
After our dance, Evan asks, “You guys ready to go in the house, yet?”
I look at Sonny, who’s in my arms; he shrugs. “Sure,” I reply, “The rain’s lettin’ up anyway.”
Sonny and I head quickly into our room. Once inside, I close and lock the door. I grab him and try to kiss his lips. He moves his head and I end up kissing his cheek.
“Hm?” I stare into his eyes, “What’s wrong?”
“Um, I just kinda can taste food again. I have really bad taste in my mouth. I go brush teeth, okay?”
“Sure,” I find it adorable, him being concerned with ‘taste.’ What a cutie. I sit on my bed and wait for him.
He comes out of the bathroom and climbs on my bed. I kiss his lips. He tastes very minty—I wonder how much damn mouthwash he use?! Still, he’s Sonny, so I keep kissing him.
He hugs me and buries his head in my chest.
“Matt,” he murmurs.
“Huh?”
“My grandma want me to be American. She want me to fit in. So I try, but then I feel weird—I do not like it. I want to be me, but I do not want to disappoint anyone. I want everyone to be happy.”
“Aw, Sonny, don’t worry; you haven’t disappointed anyone. Being American is about being yourself! It’s okay,” I pet his hair. I feel him shake and start to sob. I have no idea why he’s crying, but I hold him close. I stroke his hair and do my best to comfort him.
“What’s wrong?”
“I-I-I…nothing…I,” Sonny mutters between tears. I decide to ask him later when he calms down.
I hope his family is okay. I wonder if it’s something I did. Or Evan did.
Current Location: hoose
Current Mood: blahblah
Current Music: German shit
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