Roxy's Short Stories

Roll The Dice; Fall In Life

A/N: This is dedicated to Zoe, because I wrote it on her birthday, so it’s my birthday present to her; she’s awesome; and she was urging me to write it when I was slacking off. XP

I LOVE YOU, ZOE! (:

•Roll The Dice, Fall In Life•

(Based/Inspired by the song Viva La Vida, By Coldplay)

            The rush of adrenaline ran through my veins, pushing me to bet higher. "I give it everything I have left," I call to the table, whose reactions are a combination of eyes opening in amazement at my incredible risk-taking and the laughs from high-roller gamblers who know how to play it safe and think that I'm an idiot. "One million," I announce, smirking. Maintaining my facial expression, I confidently gather my arms and push away my million dollars worth of poker chips to the centre of the table. 

[One: I used to roll the dice]

*~*~*

            Walking into my office, I see my most hated colleague; Joseph Baker sitting at my desk. He runs his hand through his combed back hair that has been doused in at least three tubs of hair gel. His dark brown hair is shining from the gel overuse, and his bony frame is contaminating my ten-thousand dollar office chair with his lack of personal hygiene other than hair products. "Get out of my desk," I hiss at him, instantly annoyed. 

            He looks up at me with an amused expression playing across his oily face. "I'm sorry, Damien, but this isn't your desk anymore," he tells me with mock sympathy. "See?" He turns the triangular block of gold to me and where I used to see my name, it now reads: Joseph Baker, Chief Executive Officer (CEO) of Windows. 

            "Peter," I mutter, bitterly. The one person that has authority over me: Peter Winters. Ignoring Baker's spluttering protests, I snatch the plaque from the desk. Angrily, I pull out my phone and hit the speed dial for my personal assistant. After five rings, I hang up, out of patience. I then call Winters' home and a receptionist picks up. She asks for my identity and my purpose of calling, but I ignore her. Instead, I utter two words; I'm coming. 

[Two: I know Saint Peter won't call my name]

*~*

            "What. The. Fuck. Is. This?" I spit out, spacing my words, as I slam my hands onto the desk in front of Peter, one clutching the gold plaque that I took from Grease-ball's new desk. Rather than a question, it comes out as more of an irritated statement. Honestly, though, I don't care. I've spent the last ten years of my life kissing this guy's behind and this is how I'm rewarded? 

            Receiving no reply, I slam my hands down again; this tome harder, causing the man to cower away from me. Both visually and mentally, I'm a threatening person; being buff and well-built on the outside and headstrong on the inside. I feel the fear in my enemy's eyes, as the man shakes in front of me. 

            "Your gambling," he mumbles slowly, as I glower at him. I shoot him an annoyed look to say 'What about it?' "Word spread this time. And you're broke, now. What you thought was worth a million dollars, was right; but your losing’s multiplied the amount by ten." 

            "Ten million bucks," I breathe. "Ten million bucks. I lose all that and you decide to get rid of me?" I ask, near dumbfounded. I lose my fortune and more, yet I get sacked? 

            "Too much bad publicity," he stutters over his words under my intense gaze. "Your gambling has become a problem. Your house and everything you own is being sold to pay off your debt; but you're able to return for one last night." 

[Three: Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes]

*~*

            "Rosy, babe, I'm back," I shout through my mansion. My voice echoes back to me, the house clearly empty. "Rosy?" I walk through the kitchen; empty. "Rose?" I walk through the whole house and not a soul is to be found. All my maids, the butler and cleaners; gone. The eerie silence is haunting; so I go to my bedroom, to watch some TV and hopefully fall asleep. 

            Flopping onto the black, leather couch, I press the button to turn the television on, and the screen flickers to life. Then, it displays a message that my cable channels have been disconnected, as the box has been sold back to them. "Damn," I curse under my breath. The screen displays the time as the message fades, and showing me that it's three in the morning. 

            I relocate myself to the bed, where I finally find something from a person; my wife. 'Damien,' the note reads. 'As you read this, I am half way around the world. You will be alone, as your ex-company has taken the liberty of selling all the employees at the house to pay off a small part of your debt. Also, I'm leaving you. You've lost your money, which was the reason I married you. Goodbye, Damien.' Finishing the note, my fist clenches around it, shrinking it into a messy, paper ball. 

            I loved her. My beautiful Rosy. Yet she tells me that she was nothing but a filthy gold-digger. Now in the morning, I sleep alone; losing my usual manly attitude and crying myself to sleep. 

[Four: Now in the morning I sleep alone]

*~*

            "A street sweeper? That's all you can offer me?" I cry down the phone in disbelief. "A street sweeper?"

            "We're very sorry, Mr. Black, Times magazine person of the year two-thousand-and-twelve," he apologises using my official name and title. Ex formal title, I add bitterly to myself. Just before this call, I had received a call from Times telling me that I was being replaced, because of my losses. "Street Sweeps Dot-Co is the only place that will employ you at the moment."

            "No. I will not sweep the streets I used to own," I refuse angrily. "No." I hang up the phone and throw it out the window, smashing the glass as it goes through.

[Five: Sweep the streets I used to own]

*~*

            One mistake is having life-changing impacts. I used to rule the world; yet my one big mistake has lost me everything. 

[Six: I used to rule the world]

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N:

Lines from the song:

•Feel the fear in my enemies eyes. 

•Now in the morning I sleep alone. 

•Sweep the streets I used to own.

•I used to rule the world.

The brackets contain the line from the song that each part relates to, as I've interpreted the song differently to its original meaning (which is actually about Jesus and it is SUPER Christian); I thought that might help to clarify things.

Does the title rhyme to you?

It’s the most poetic thing I’ve come up with in a long time :P Yes, I suck that much at rhyming XP

Anyways.

Comment! I appreciate comments to the moon and back and back again <3

I hope you like it! (: