Emmett Ficlet and Community Pimp

[jule1122]

Here is a short Emmett ficlet I wrote for a community I want to pimp. writing_readers is a wonderful community that is open to new members through the end of March. Normally membership is closed so authors can post works they plan to submit for publication for feedback. The community description explains it better than I can:
We are readers looking for good writers.

We are writers looking for good readers.

Writers and Readers is a community for just that - writers and readers. It exists solely as an attempt to bring together people who love to read good fiction with people who love to write it.

The community info page has more information and basic rules. Like many small communities it goes through periods of inactivity. We are emerging from a lull now and are looking for new members.
It is a wonderful place for both writers and those who like to be more active readers. There are normally weekly challenges which is where this ficlet came from.
There are expectations of participation so it is not a community for lurkers. It is not fandom specific and most people post original fiction. There had been a lot of fantasy stories for those who enjoy that genre. However, most of the original members came from LOTR RPF fandoms, and those characters to appear frequently in the stories. If you are completely opposed or freaked out by RPF this is not a community for you.
If you are interested, please check the community out and consider joining. I’d love to see more of my flist there!
And now for the story. Since it was written for a writing exercise, it is untitled and unbetaed.

Emmett took the shirts from his closet one by one and threw them on the bed. Goodwill was going to love him. They had been arranged from light to dark in his closet, but he removed them haphazardly. The pile grew and grew until his bed was a sea of blue. He wanted to toss them in garbage bags and be done with them, but Emmett had worked in retail for too long to treat clothes so callously. So he carefully folded each shirt and stacked them in the waiting box.

Cobalt, sky, and indigo lined the bottom of the box. Midnight, cornflower, and powder blue came next. His fingers lingered over a beautiful sapphire silk, and he contemplated keeping it. But Emmett strengthened his resolve, and into the box it went. Denim followed; what had he been thinking? He wondered briefly if the electric blue mesh would ever find a home. Sweaters came next: cerulean, Persian, azure, and baby blue. A navy button down Emmett had hated went in last. It had been a gift from Eric, and he’d only worn it once. Emmett took a deep breath and put the lid on the box.

He was tempted to shove the box back in the closet and forget about it. Or maybe drag it to the parking lot and set it on fire. But that would be petty and pointless. They were beautiful shirts taken individually not as a collection, not as a wardrobe. Maybe by passing them on to someone less fortunate than he was, he could reverse some of the bad karma they had brought them. Besides, he owed the shirts something. Without them, he might not have found the courage to throw Eric out.

It had been another tense morning after yet another fight. This one had been over a message Ted had left on the machine wanting to know why Emmett wasn’t returning his calls, wanting to know what was wrong. Eric had stormed off that morning after demanding Emmett have the phone number changed. When Emmett had opened his closet to get dressed, he’d suddenly realized what was missing. The riot of colors, the outrageous patterns, all shoved together and vying for his attention was gone. In their place was a carefully organized line of blue with what little other color remained pushed into the corners. Emmett stared at wall of blue shirts trying to figure out what had happened.

Eric had been subtle, so subtle Emmett had even noticed what was happening. It started with gifts. A blue shirt for his birthday, another for Christmas, and Valentine’s Day, and even Sweetest Day. The there were the suggestions disguised as compliments. “Oh Emmett, why not change into one of your blue shirts. I love the way they bring out your eyes.” “Don’t you have something blue to wear? It’s my favorite color on you.” Somehow joint shopping trips always ended with Emmett bringing home another bag of blue shirts. He’d let Eric bled the color out of his wardrobe just as easily as he’d bled it out of his life.

Thank God Emmett’s keen sense of fashion had rescued him before he’d let Eric talk him into giving up his party planning business as carefully as he’d talked him into distancing himself from his friends. And that’s where things had been heading, Emmett could see that clearly now.

So Emmett had changed his phone number that morning right after he called and canceled all his appointments. Then he’d packed up Eric’s things and had them delivered to his office. He’d felt a little silly having a locksmith come out and change all the locks; it wasn’t like he was afraid of Eric. His method of control had been words not violence. But he’d done it anyway. It never hurt to be careful. Then Emmett called Ted and talked to his friend, really talked to him, for the first time in months.

That had been a week ago, and Emmett hadn’t heard from Eric, not that he’d expected to. He was meeting Ted and the rest of their friends for drinks in an hour. Then it would be time for his return to Babylon. He’d missed the music and dancing more than he’d even expected to. Not to mention the hot men and the backroom! But he had something to do first.

The shopping bags were moved from the floor to the bed, and Emmett began filling some of the empty space in his closet. He was deliberately random in the way he hung them. There was no order based on shade or material. He left irregular spaces between the shirts. There would be more to come in many more colors. But these were the first and most important. Ruby, coral, and maroon shared space with persimmon and vermilion. Candy apple red settled between amaranth and sangria. Burgundy added a touch of class, and if fuchsia made more than one appearance, it was only because it complimented his skin tone. The rust satin was a thing of beauty, and Emmett smiled as he hung it next to an elegant mauve cashmere turtleneck.

Finally, only one shirt remained. It was a gorgeous sheer crimson held together with darker ribbons of fabric at the cuffs, collar, hem, and seams. Three statically placed buttons held it in place with a promise of easy removal. He looked in the mirror and admired the way the scarlet metallic accents caught the light. A quick 360 assured him it looked perfect from all angles. Emmett winked at his reflection and playfully slapped his own ass. Not everyone could wear fire engine red leather pants, but he looked fine if he did say so himself. Emmett walked out of the bedroom with his head held high and his flame burning bright.

Comments

[jule1122.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much! The challenge was to use as many shades of 1 or 2 colors and I immediately thought of Emmett. I wanted Emmett to be strong at the end.