Bradley Oliver Jones was eight years old when he first heard "Phantom of the Opera" in New York.The lights gleaming across the stage, the voices of the performers ringing through the theater in a way that brought tears to the eyes of those listening. A wonderful canvas of brilliance painted bright by the dull colors of the world.The performance brought something wonderful to Bradley Oliver Jones.The theatre brought magic, brought light, brought hope into the mind of a little eight year old kid.A kid now dead set on being on that stage.And suddenly, the world was on fire, and everything was possible.
View MoreA celebration was in store, this was decided by Oscar the moment the pair stepped outside of the hospital.And a celebration that it was.Oscar treated Bo to a dinner at the taller man’s favorite restaurant, a small pizza place on the corner of seventh and twenty two. Bo had been predictable, his choice of cheese pizza and a Dr. Pepper alongside a slice of cheesecake, Oscar followed suit.Bo had not been very verbal, but Oscar did not mind. He had enough to talk about with small comments from the taller man when he could reply.When Oscar and Bo arrived back at the home, the man was much more touchy than usual. He very rarely let his hands wander away from Oscar, his hands trailing up and down the smaller man’s waist and back, revelling in the way that he cou
The Board of Directors had spoken briefly to each other before the entrance of Doctor Bradley Jones.It had not been brief, but rather long term and over dramatic.The head, Maria Merrywether had run the hospital for the last nine years. It had been her decision to offer the position of Assistant Head of Pediatrics to Doctor Jones, and it had been the best one yet in her position.She had seen the bias that many of her associates had taken towards the doctor and decided to ignore it, seeking the best position possible for him and noticing almost immediately how well suited he was for Bellevue Hospital.It had been his decision to start a program in Africa as well as South America, and it had been his quick work that saved the lives of so many young children that had made
“Breathe Bowie.” Oscar is reassuring, his eyes lock with Bo’s in the window glass. “You’ve got this.”Bo nods, his hands shaking as he attempts to tie his tie properly. He smooths out the lapels relaxing ever so slightly as Oscar sets both his hands on his shoulders. He takes a deep breath. “I know.” He repeats the two words two more times.“Hey, hey. You know this inside out, no matter what they say to you, everything will be alright.”Bo could not be sure if he believed the man, but he nodded nonetheless.They had only been waiting for twenty minutes, but with every second that passed Bo couldn’t help but wonder if all
He knew she was coming.He knew.It had been mentioned and planned and brought up on nearly every call, and still the knowledge of actually having a date that his sister would arrive fucked everything up.Bo says that he is excited and chatters on about the plans that he will include Oscar in if able too. But the consideration of how much he would enjoy his time with both his sister and husband bounced back and forth in his mind.It was entirely his fault that Mel was not aware of his current three limbed life. She was a busy business woman, and when he had had his accident she was on her way to runn
The moment Bo was given permission to stop wearing his brace, he appeared in better spirits.In Oscar’s eyes, he appeared calmer and overall in a happier mood. His voice was constantly bright and missing the monotone voice that had been apparent the entire time while Bo was healing. He relied on schedules and consistency and it wasn’t until Bo got too much news in too little time that Oscar saw just how fragile his thining was.For Bo, everything started to change after a call from his sister.He was calm externally, his voice bright and common as he answered the call after his shared lunch with Oscar and Jessamine. The pair watched him walk away, smiling as he answered.“Mel!” He smiled, feeling a happiness underneath all of the stressful thinkin
It was Oscar’s fault that they had fallen back asleep.The smaller man was like a heater, and due to the slight over exertion of both men in the early hours of the morning neither man was particularly surprised when they fell back asleep.Oscar was draped across Bo’s chest, his head nestled in the crook of Bo’s neck. When the taller man woke up hours later it was only due to the repeated knocking on the door of Oscar’s room.Though he quickly realized he could call it their room.“Dad!”Neither man actually reacted to t
Oscars words to Bo had left him breathless almost immediately.Though it could in part have something to do with the kissing that continued for much longer than he had expected.Seconds after his partner’s declaration, Oscar’s hands were back in Bo’s hair, pulling at it from the roots in a way that brought a small throaty sigh from his lips every time Oscar tugged.Bo felt a strange sense of passion at Oscar’s continuation of the movement, and used Oscar’s sensitivity to his cold skin as a marker for their continuing. Bo delved his uninjured right hand under the man’s shirt at the back, tracing up his spine as far as he could get the shirt to hike up.“God
When Bo wakes up it is with an arm around his waist and a warm hand splayed across his stomach. Oscar’s breath is on his shoulder, the smaller man’s steady exhales muss the hair that has grown a bit longer than usual behind his ear. He is overwhelmed by the earthy smell of Oscar, all oakwood and soft dirt after it rains.“Petrichor - the word comes from petra, which means stones, and ichor, the ethereal blood of the Greek Gods. Plants release an oil that stops their seeds from germinating when it would be too difficult to survive.” Bo’s voice was soft, slight. He didn't mean to keep speaking, but it was obvious that Oscar was not bothered. His insistence to finish the quote overtook his urge to be quiet. “The oil soaks into the pores of the stones, and is set free with water. They say it’s the smell of waiting, paid off.”To Bo, there could not be a better way to wake up, with a quote and Osc
Lydia Nine found herself entirely incapable of thinking about anything else other than how the future would look for Bradley and the new potential friend that she had found in Doctor Emily Howards. Though phrasing it this way made her feel like a giddy high school student with a crush, rather than the impressive woman that she is now.The woman knew barely anything about the doctor, and yet found herself putting together pieces of a life she did not live or even have insight on.Lydia guessed that Emily practically lived at the hospital, just like Bo had.She figured that the woman would spend most of her time walking through the halls, and that, like Bo, she was often told to take a break once a week and not return until she had slept through at least one, maybe even two, nights.
Bradley Oliver Jones, "Bo" to his friends, was only thirteen when he first stepped foot onto the Broadway Stage, the Imperial Theatre his new home for the next eighteen wonderful months as he preformed the role of "Gavroche." A boy who uses his wits to survive on the streets of Paris in the midst of a war.Fifteen years of his life was dedicated to the stage, every breath, every tear, every preformance he left the smallest piece of his soul on stage. Finding comfort in the impracticality of the life, making his small fortune in well placed stock buying and selling.It was gone in an instant.The world he had grown up in suddenly so far from his grasps, he tumbled to the ground, a well remembered token of the Broadway community 'gone to soon.'But he didn't go anywhere.Eighteen years after his original Broadway debut, and two years after falling of the hypothetical Broadway map, Bo is working on his first album, a testimant to how his struggles hav
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