Story Corner

Here's a story I apparently wrote last night and it's actually kind of amazing. It's about living on the edge.

Barry had to admit that Steve was right, he was out of control. Maybe once it had been about hard work and dedication, after all it was in his blood, but now? Now it was about the parties, the fast cars, the fast women, the drink, and yes even the drugs. It was a glamorous lifestyle, so what if he was having fun? You only lived once and as far as Barry was concerned you had to make the best of it. But now Steve was riding his back.
“You’ve been late to practice too many times” he snarled “the rest of us are professionals, I know the other guys are committed, but you’re never around. Every town we go to we’re putting in the hard work and you’re at another party, in another girl’s bed.” Barry knew he could detect more than a little jealousy in Steve’s voice and he couldn’t blame him; he knew that he was the one who was really having fun.
“This is the end of the line Barry, me and the boys just can’t handle you and your lack of respect any more. You’re out for good.” Maybe it was the cocaine talking but Barry couldn’t give a damn. The way he worked was what morris dancing was really about: passion, violence. Anarchy.
Barry was out of control because he had to be and Steve wouldn’t understand. Steve could never understand.