Here's a scene based on a prompt to put my character in a graveyard in the snow: "Liam's hair, laden with splinters of ice and snow, stuck out from his low-slung cap. His words framed the brittle air as he spoke, the chill unrelenting, 'I never meant to return here. I know I--I promised I'd never look back. That I'd keep living with you as some memory on the edge of glory, but the world is round, after all, right? I ended up back here anyway.'" He dug his stiffened hands into his jeans, his boot striking a rock as his own murmur haunted him. 'Can't stay long, but I still remember what real sunsets looked like, the way the colors just bled for miles. I hope you haven't seen this magenta sky. I hope you never know it.' His acuity, melting into the atmosphere, left him with no other thoughts. 'You rest well, because I know that while I'm standing here talking to the silence, its better that hen facing it alone--' He laughed in spite of his raw sense of sorrow and turned away from the plot, dusting his knuckles across the slot of cremated ashes in a lingering fist bump. 'Again, sometime, brother.' Falling leaves swirled in his mind as he was transported to an autumn gone. 'But before I go, there's something I know you've heard me singing in my sleep,' he said in a low tone. "I came here to leave it with you, along with something of yours I've been carrying around. Keeping you close, but--if I lost it, well, you know I couldn't live with that." An entire moment passed before Liam fumbled a thin, metal guitar fret from his pocket, a perfect fit between his index finger and thumb. He then unrolled a small piece of paper with a scrawled transcription and wrapped it around the fret. In a swift gesture, he drove it deep into a crack between two bricks in the wall. "The ninth fret was always the richest, no harmonies sounded as perfect without it." Liam's faint smile rested on the glimmer of the fret , visible in the crevice beside Mason's ashes, along with his notes. "I... still... I. Just. You can't imagine the things... or the times I've wanted to say. Mace could have played you that one while I ruined the lyrics. Still have the rest of your rosewood, too, with all of your fingerprints intact. Damned if I had known you'd find me where you did--or when, and yet I wasn't there to--but hell, you'd never let me take it all on my own shoulders. And I won't--for you. It's never gonna be... all right, but--I'll try to fill a void or two with your songs. You'll never know this damn world but, its gonna be changed by what you left in me. You walked into the darkest corner of my life and you -" Without raising his eyes from his fist, his memories hid between his fingers, slipping away as he flexed his palm. "I only hope you can't see me now, with all this all this hell in my eyes, with the shadows. I still remember the light in yours, don't you worry. 'Cause I keep my promises, and you're still my oldest friend. First, and the last. Don't you forget it. Just... don't ever forget that." As Liam turned away, trudging along the icy path that wound through the cemetery, it could have been hours. Days. Months. Or just a few seconds. And it could have been anywhere. Grief only changed shape as he confronted the infused December sky, its witness the only one in sight. As Liam slid down onto the curb, only a few miles from where he'd last seen Ethan, he glanced up at the approaching figure. "Hey, Lara, I haven't seen Eth since... maybe three hours ago." She dropped to his side, grasping his freezing hand in her own. "Liam, it's cold out here; you're like ice... wait, did you visit Mas--" Her eyes, filled with a silent understanding, flitted to his and back to his hand as she placed it in his lap. "We've both been looking for you, Ethan and I--but I'll tell him you're alright, okay?" Liam, his eyes reddened but dried out from the temperature, nodded. "Yeah, I-it's... Well, you know how long it's been," he said, his gaze finding solace somewhere in Lara's dark hair, averting her gaze. "Yeah, too long. Ethan was worried you'd freeze, so you'd better get back to civilization soon..." she said, offering a smile and a hand on his jacketed shoulder. "Thanks, you've both been feeding me way too long as it is--and I'm not the most stable guest." She laughed as she let her hand slide from his shoulder. "Ethan could out-eat us all, so don't worry about that. Just take care out here." And as she walked away, he rested his head against the flesh of his palm, the solitude granting him a moment of clarity--one that he could never share. A melody in the corner of his mind, one that he could hum, roughly, in the back of his dry throat. "Yeah, Mason, you're everywhere, and nowhere, buddy. How many years has it been and you'll always be omnipresent. But at least I can live with that." -- Liam glared into the darkness, the dust in his eyes unforgiving. The melody sank in a haunting tune through the night. "Cause there's a place deep inside of me where my dreams have a hold of me...and soon my soul will start to bleed..." Liam's voice broke off as he raked a tremor through his hair. "I still miss him," Liam said, uncertain if Ryan could hear his musings. "Hey, Ry...how long have we been lying in this hell hole?" He asked, the silence torn by Ryan's answer, "Too long. And yeah, I heard you saying something about 'if you play Wonderwall, you'll look like a total tool' in your sleep, presumably to someone who could play music." Ryan smiled, but it never reached his eyes as he added, "He really was a brother to you, huh? And don't lie because I'll know...and then I'll feel bad about giving ya this." As Liam dismissed a tear at the corner of his eye, he reached over to where Ryan lay, holding a piece of paper. "Music? You wrote music. What is this, Ry? You never told me you could--" Liam said, his eyes adjusting to the dark with a vulnerability that settled between them. Ryan, smiling with a broadness that reached his eyes, glanced at the paper with a nod. "Ah, I might have written down that song you insist on humming in your damned sleep. I knew it had some meaning, although I don't know what...least I could do for you, Li'." As his irises shone with another sheen of tears, Liam said quietly, "Mason could have played this--while I ruined the lyrics." Looking up from his boots, Ryan held a somber smile. "If I'd have known you way back then, I'm damned sure I'd have held you both to that." As Liam returned the nod, he folded the paper and tucked it into his duffel bag, magenta particles stirring in the air. "I know...He really was a huge chunk of my adolescence just...gone like...well, anyway, the music, when we get our hands on a guitar..." Ryan shook his head, angling his jaw in his hand. "Nah, we're in the middle of nowhere, and it'll never happen. But you got me, brother." Liam, smiling faintly, replied, "I know. We've seen so much that , well , does it make me an asshole for being happy that Mason died young, unaffected by the trauma that has screwed us up?. I mean he could've lived a different life from us -and maybe I'm wrong to hope he's in a better -" As Ryan leaned back against the filth-stained wall , his voice contemplated the environment . "It's not wrong to want him to have a peace we may never find. It's human. " As Liam gazed back, conflict in his eyes as he said "Y'know , there's something I had back home. And it's likely I'll never see it again, I was carrying a part of it with me for years , but just knowing I kept it safe...I chose to leave it with him and--". Words eluded Liam in the darkness, as Ryan's features , found by the moonlight, left him unable to deflect his gaze . "I feel as though, he wasn't a friend-he wasn't a comrade-he was a sibling, blood was all we didn't share . And even then when he needed a transfusion... I was the first to roll up my damned sleeve. And I wasnt the Ab neg he was-" In a hushed tone Ryan asked , "You think not being compatible was somehow a fault -but Li' , have you heard-well yourself? He could play better than Van Halen I'm guessing', and you could've ruined more than just his lyrics with those pipes . Don't make me say it again." Liam fell silent, and Ryan flopped backwards onto his makeshift bed. "It's alright Li'. Just get some sleep, and don't--" It was almost automatic as Liam replied, "Yeah, yeah, don't 'thank you.' I know, I'm welcome, huh? Yeah, goodnight, Ry." As Ryan's muttering hit the wall, Liam's mind sifted through the catalog of melodies Mason had played. And, amongst the static, a distinct composition of chords found their way back to him. "And if I fall beneath the cracks, if I find you in the darkness, brother, will you still have the heart to see? When I close my eyes and my memories start to fade, when the filter falls away, will you find the strength to stay?"

Is it worth retaining in a novel ?

What's some similar prompts that Coukd offer insight to Ryan's background ?

Any other ideas?

His eyes were bloodshot, and there was already an unfamiliar anger swirling through him. Almost begging him towards its flames as the voice grew irritating in his ears. "Don't talk to me about where I've been , or how long , you would only notice because-" . As the impact left a razing burn across Liam's jaw, he stumbled backwards, seeking purchase in the bricks of the wall. His legs found leverage in the hedge of the lawn, three am suburbia surrounding him. "Ryan, the hell I won't interrogate you son, and think twice about setting your feet on my property drunk again. " Ryan's jaw, set crooked as he wrested with the rage in his veins , popped to the right. His dimpled grin, lopsided and defiant, betrayed his inebriation. "But, your property, I live here..." "Maybe not tonight , Ryan, maybe tonight you live somewhere the hell else, get walking boy, it's warm out, be thankful for that." The sarcasm of the challenge scraped through his rough end voice as he staggered forward, ceasing his bruised cheek. "Yeah, well it's not as if I did anything half worth mentioning. Yeah me an Damon might have hitched a ride back... here, cause I didn't wanna drive drunk and y'know , kill somebody , but ah hell, I think I'm doing the right thing, and now I'm sleeping in the gutter. " . Then he heard his mother's voice, smothered by the sound of a disturbed German Shepard barking. "Ryan, you're going to sober up , take a long walk . Then when you get back , we can discuss the inappropriate behaviour of your father..." As Ryan straggled toward the pavement , the house blurring away along with the male figure shrinking into the background he shouted . "He's got a hell of a problem, I'm out of here anyway. ." Ryan's shoulders sank under the mounting defeat as he dragged his filthy shoes down the immaculate sidewalk, the air of the night heating his boiling skin. "That asshole won't notice if I'm still missing in three days-" . He'd made it halfway down the street , as his mind flipped through his grim options. "Well Ry', looks like you'll be drinking alone ...for days. " Random dogs barked as he hedged towards a trash can, kneeing its lid onto the road and the echo disrupting the night. He cursed, and came to a final stop on a bench, its rigid surface absorbing the disappointment in his fingers. Driving his palms into his jeans, he released a stuttered breath, and embraced the familiar dread sinking through his gut.

What moments stand out

Or is this moment more resonant : Ryan crashed up against the window, glass shattering around his shoulders and landing on his jacket. "Oh, shit, that's not the door huh ?" He said, a laugh escaping him as he messily drove his key into the lock , and staggered over the threshold to his apartment. As his eyes adjusted to the dark , his landline nearly jumped off the wall, as he reached for the receiver . "Yeah, it's the one and only, and how may I help you, sweet lady?". Ryan answered, albeit recognising the voice and feeling a sense of dread creeping around his earlobes. "No ma'am, not a chance of that-well alright I mean, yeah alright ..three...six? I don't know...A lot. Too many? Yeah let's uh go with that. " Ryan laughed, mostly to himself and the unkept room , with strewn soda cans and a make of generic filth. "Mom , I have a secret for ya' . I'm totally fucking pissed-and three people lifted me up so I could reach the- No shit you know I'm drunk ? Lindsey , what do you mean ? Oh no... I was supposed to..." Ryan's blood ran cold, juxtaposing with the warmth of the alcohol pulsing through his veins. "I left the poor kid in front of the bleachers , I forgot all about- no , I'm sorry , is she okay, please don't tell me some sick pervert-" His heartbeat kept to his throat , as he fell to the bed, the receiver wedged between his jaw and shoulder . "She didn't come home ? Oh God I-" Ryan dropped the phone, his mother's panic screaming into his lap as he ran a shaking hand through his hair. As Ryan fell to he knees , he pulled Lindsey into a desperate embrace of relief, his own tears hidden as she cried. With all the reckless abandon only a three year old could harbor, she mumbled . "Ite ok uncle Ry', I love you..." . The scent of her fresh, shampooed hair lingered as he maintained his hold on her frame. "It was a stupid frat party -I -Oh God -I shouldn't have gone" . As Ryan finally pulled back she gazed at him, her matching hazel irises confused but content. "I missed you and I want you to have this-" As she pulled a crumpled dandelion from the pocket of her pajamas, its limp petals reflected the orange shades in her eyes. "You just go inside, we can play if I -well your Mom might -yeah just go play okay? " . He whispered out of earshot as she ran away into the house. "If your mother and my own don't kill me before I -"

So what about this scene but for Liam : His eyes were bloodshot, and there was already an unfamiliar anger swirling through him. Almost begging him towards its flames as the voice grew irritating in his ears. "Don't talk to me about where I've been , or how long , you would only notice because-" . As the impact left a razing burn across Liam's jaw, he stumbled backwards, seeking purchase in the bricks of the wall. His legs found leverage in the hedge of the lawn, three am suburbia surrounding him. "Liam, the hell I won't interrogate you son, and think twice about setting your feet on my property drunk again. " Liam's jaw, set crooked as he wrested with the rage in his veins , popped to the right. His dimpled grin, lopsided and defiant, betrayed his inebriation. "But, your property, I live here..." "Maybe not tonight , Liam, maybe tonight you live somewhere the hell else, get walking boy, it's warm out, be thankful for that." The sarcasm of the challenge scraped through his rough end voice as he staggered forward, ceasing his bruised cheek. "Yeah, well it's not as if I did anything half worth mentioning. Yeah me an Damon might have hitched a ride back... here, cause I didn't wanna drive drunk and y'know , kill somebody , but ah hell, I think I'm doing the right thing, and now I'm sleeping in the gutter. " . Then he heard his mother's voice, smothered by the sound of a disturbed German Shepard barking. "Liam, you're going to sober up , take a long walk . Then when you get back , we can discuss the inappropriate behaviour of your father..." As Liam straggled toward the pavement , the house blurring away along with the male figure shrinking into the background he shouted . "He's got a hell of a problem, I'm out of here anyway. ." Liam's shoulders sank under the mounting defeat as he dragged his filthy shoes down the immaculate sidewalk, the air of the night heating his boiling skin. "That asshole won't notice if I'm still missing in three days-" . He'd made it halfway down the street , as his mind flipped through his grim options. "Well Li', looks like you'll be drinking alone ...for days. " Random dogs barked as he hedged towards a trash can, kneeing its lid onto the road and the echo disrupting the night. He cursed, and came to a final stop on a bench, its rigid surface absorbing the disappointment in his fingers. Driving his palms into his jeans, he released a stuttered breath, and embraced the familiar dread sinking through his gut. "Give it 30 minutes..." he said, if only to himself. The next hour drained slowly, taking his measured guilt and transforming it into fear as the figure approached. His blue eyes were met an enraged , but matching shaded stare, the glower as usual as his amble down the street. "Liam, last time it was -and met me remind you -it was "a blunt-that you just wanted to smoke, and what happened ? Tell me . Start talking son , I don't hear anything " . As he elevated his eyes , his irises darkening with shame he said, "yeah I got high. And I vomited in my own mouth. And you had to come to triage at three am -" . As his father joined him on the bench , placing a steady hand in the back of his grime laden hair, he said nothing. Liam fingered his jeans, awaiting what would come , a loose thread encircling his finger. "You know what happens -to people like me, Liam. People who won't back off until your body washes up on the banks of a river -" Liams answered was a weak stab in the encompassing darkness . "Yeah, they end up-" . As the hand cradling his head fell away , all he heard was . "They end up signing off bodies in a morgue. You'll think about that son, and you'll think about your mother and you'll sober up . Then , you'll remember not where you live , but why you live there. " and again, he was alone, his defiant grin gone in the night.