Reforming Society •• OneRepublic {2}

Stares and Whispers

Eddie's P.O.V.

Eddie was waiting for his sandwich to be finished at a Los Angeles Which Wich, and his wait would be long judging by the nine orders in front of his. It was a fairly busy day, but a "busy day" really meant twenty people or so. Normally it would be closer to thirty, but even the traffic had died down ever since the streets had riots and protests sprinkled all over. They were also littered - literally - with bullets, glass, dried blood stains, and other similar proof of the uprisings.

Los Angeles was usually once a bright and lively city, at least in some parts, but now the whole city was as frightening as Compton and the other South Los Angeles ghettos.

Yet the shadows of the city didn't concern him, not at all. What occupied his mind were the mysteries of Johana's recent behavior to him, Ryan's peculiar tension alongside what little misfortune they'd all heard of Ramona, and, of course, the looming threat of music being gone forever.

Music, for all of them, was what started the true beginnings of their lives, it brought experiences they would never have otherwise had, and shared with each other. In fact, all but Zach and Ryan wouldn't know each other, in terms of just the five of them. And who knows what other things could've changed? Where would they have been if not in music? If not in OneRepublic.

Most importantly, though, was not where they would be without the music. It was where they were going without the music. Eddie went over the pros and cons of staying over and over in his head and still went through them, to see if the pros outweighed the cons. Or rather hoping they did, at any rate.

The cons were: a terribly loathsome manager, musical writing, production, and composition getting thrown from their hands to the bottom of the ocean (or in this case, the hands of people less qualified to be in control over their music), being unable to see those dear to them (in Eddie's case, his dog), those dear to them already being ripped way (in Eddie's case, Clint).

There was only one pro: the music. Their careers. Their lives.

They only had one of those, in all reality, though. They technically still had their careers. But what they did not have was true music. What was also taken from their hands, heads, hearts, and souls and thrown to the bottom of the ocean were their lives because not only was the inspiring music their lives, but the people they weren't allowed to see were as well.

The other four Eddie loved as brothers, no doubt, and he would die for them. But he wasn't exactly prepared to give up everything else, or in more proper terms, be forced to give it up. Eddie was only lucky he didn't have someone as important to him as Ramona was to Ryan, or Lynn to Zach, or Addie to Brent. He lost Clint and everyone else important to him, and it would be all too unfortunate to lose any love of his life along with them.

"Eddie!" Someone then called. He snapped out of his thoughts and stood up from the chair he'd been sitting at by the far wall. He saw a young man place his sandwich on the counter and begin to ring it up, and Eddie rushed to get over there.

"Tall drink?" The man asked. Eddie nodded and was handed a cup, then he paid for his things and walked over to the soda dispenser. After getting his drink, however, he wasn't careful enough upon turning around with it. The liquid next coated the front of a heavy black uniform. The restaurant went quiet before Eddie even looked up at the officer's angry face.

But he only saw a face for a second, for after his drink was knocked to the floor, making several people jump, Eddie was staring right down the barrel of a handgun.

Eddie froze in fear, as did those around him. The police officer didn't say a word yet, and the one who broke the silence was his partner, who put a hand on the first officer's shoulder.

"Hey, put the gun down, Clarke, it was just a drink."

The first cop, Clarke, shoved him away with a rough jerk of his shoulder before turning back to stare at Eddie. Eddie still didn't dare move, and even had a hard time blinking.

"Show me your wrist!" Clarke yelled.

Without further hesitation, Eddie raised his left hand. He wore a short sleeve, so his brand was immediately shown.

Before seeing the officer's reaction, Eddie also noticed many of the average citizens in front of him were silently judging him. Eddie couldn't see every reaction, but some were spiteful, some were sad, and others a bit shocked and envious. Especially when the officer lowered his gun with nothing but a fierce glare at Eddie. He said nothing more as he slowly walked out.

Eddie stood in silence. What was even worse was that the restaurant stayed still even as the cops were long gone, and most of the people still stared at him. He began to hear a few whispers scattered among the crowd, directed at him, as he could see. Without so much as another glance at any other face - or even another drink - Eddie, too, left the restaurant.

The all-seeing eye of the government was enough, so he did not need the eyes of the oppressed people also boring holes into the back of his head.

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Sorry this is late! In most time zones, that is, I've still got half an hour in mine. I was busy today so I didn't have much time to work on the chapter. I'm also sorry it's short and not that eventful - although I did warn that it was more of a filler chapter. The next, if I didn't say anything before, is also another anonymous P.O.V. one, then we'll get back to more of the story the week after (Ryan and Ramona's, to be precise. I believe a lot of you are on edge with what's happening with them). So there you have it! School yesterday was awesome and I'm actually very glad to be back (and a junior!), just for more updates!

But I'll shut up and go to bed now. I remember saying something about having to make these author's notes much, much shorter.