WWAWR - [11] The Best Thing is That It's Happening to You and Me
Chapter Eleven [PG13]
The Best Thing is That It's Happening to You and Me
Carly is beginning to think that Jason's words are starting to have some sort of truth in them. Michael and David aren't really doing anything much to hide their --budding? she thinks with a grin-- relationship. It's great, really, what one night of them simply together does; it certainly makes them more --open, and definitely more comfortable. She doesn't know if either Michael or David have noticed these changes about them, but she guesses they're subtle enough to simply be overlooked. She knows, though, that Brooke and Jason have definitely noticed; otherwise, they wouldn't have been nudging each other and exchanging goofy smiles. Carly shakes her head in amusement, but proceeds to watch Michael and David, who appear to be lost in their own world. Michael is leaning against the kitchen counter, facing away from the rest of them, oblivious to everything but David, his elbows resting on the countertop. David is standing next to him, facing the Idols, leaning on his right elbow propped up on the counter, his left hand idly playing with the fork nestled in pasta. It really is such an endearing image, even if she cannot see the expressions forming on Michael's face, because she can see the way David's eyes light up whenever Michael tilts his head in his direction, can see the way David's smile widens whenever Michael says something incoherent to the rest of them.
And because she can see David's delight whenever Michael's hands feather over his; she doesn't need X-ray vision to know that Michael's expression would mirror David's whenever David's hand would run up his arms. With a smile, the Irishwoman notices that whenever Michael's hand feathers over David's, David's eyes flutter shut for the briefest of moments, and whenever Michael's hands encircle his shoulders, he leans gently into the Australian's touch.
"I just know you're dying to say 'aw,'" Brooke comments quietly, soft enough only for Carly and Jason, who is sitting to Brooke's right to, to hear, then goes on to take a sip of her orange juice. "Aren't they just the most adorable?"
Carly nods brightly in response. "Yeah. They really are."
"They may be cuter than legally possible," Jason remarks, then stuffs egg into his mouth and swallows it, "but, at this rate, if Michael over there keeps on caressing David, the poor guy's never going to finish his pasta."
Carly stops her laughter just in time.
Syesha, truth be told, doesn't know what to make of Michael and the older David. The two men --who she firmly believes are eternally twelve, even when they turn eighty and their desires to thrust their hips onto microphone have lessened, although perhaps their ability to do so might have not-- to put it simply, have been acting different. Not around the others, no, because they are still their goofy, light-hearted selves with tendencies to make everyone burst out in laughter, but around each other. They are --gentler around each other, definitely more --careful in their actions, and it's strange to see, because even back in Hollywood Week, with the other Jason and Luke still around, they were fond of punches on the arm or constant slaps on the back. She knows it's not just her who's noticed, of course. Ramiele had, once or twice, approached her about noticing something different about the two, and Kristy Lee has had her own suspicions as well. She knows they have noticed the looks, the little smiles --even the sharing of clothing, which the girls hadn't even gotten around to yet. Granted, of course, that Ramiele's size doesn't necessarily fit Syesha, and Kristy's "boho chic" wasn't really her style, but that was beside the point.
She watches those seated around the table with the eyes of a hawk as laughter at another inside joke erupts form the Australian and the Missourian. Her eyes float over first to Archuleta, who has his Calculus spread open next to his breakfast, over to Ramiele and Kristy, who mirror her feelings with wide-eyed looks and shrugs brought on by honest confusion; when she gets to the three closest to the counter, her eyes narrow.
Quite clearly, Jason, Brooke, and Carly know so much more than they were letting on. She has no intention of ever confronting them about it, because she knows her place and knows she needs to remain out of business that isn't hers, but there is no doubt in her mind that the three had exchanged pleased smiles so small that if she hadn't turned her head at that very moment, she would have missed it.
Syesha bows her head and plays around with the remaining egg on her plate, and doesn't look up until Archuleta says, "Hey, Syesha, do you think you could help me with this really quick?"
She looks up, places a large smile on her face, and says, "Of course, Archie!"
"I can't believe we forgot to clean up last night, though." David twirls the last bit of pasta on the plate onto his fork, puts it in his mouth, chews, swallows, and then shakes his head. "Carly and Brooke had to put away all the things you set out."
Michael watches David with a sheepish smile on his face. It's darling, really, how David is so concerned about everything. "You had no objections to leaving a mess last night," he whispers lowly, and takes pleasure in the way David's cheeks turn pink. The younger man straightens his back indignantly, and walks over to the sink, letting the water run over the plate and fork before grabbing the sponge and pouring soap on it.
"Well," he says as he tilts his head up as haughtily as he could muster, "excuse me."
Michael smiles in amusement and pushes himself away from the kitchen counter. Walking over to the sink and leaning against the counter there, David looks at him exasperatedly and says, "You're not going to leave me alone, are you?"
Michael knows the tone is meant to be --aggravated, in some sense, but even when he tries, David really cannot pull off mock anger. The Australian calmly raises an eyebrow, and then counters with a face as straight as he could muster, "No sexy-dance for you at rehearsals, then."
David's eyes widen, before he coughs and shakes his head, now rinsing the plate and the fork. "Michael," he admonishes, although there is a smile on his face, too. His voice drops to a whisper, and Michael can feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand as though called to attention. "That's all right. I can get a sexy-dance from you any time I want to, anyway."
The Australian straightens himself and nods with his mouth curling up, "Yeah. Yeah, that is true."
David shakes his head and laughs in response, snaking his hand over to hold Michael's.
"Why is it that when we get ready for rehearsals, everybody disappears?" Brooke raises an eyebrow as she and Carly are left at the table, the Idols having disappeared one by one. Syesha and Archie left first, moving to the living room for Archie's calculus tutorial session; Kristy Lee and Ramiele left not soon after, their loud giggling heard all the way from the kitchen as they ascended; Jason was next to go, the door to their house shutting loudly behind him as he left to "be alone"; and Michael and David, continuously oblivious to everything and everyone around them, went up the stairs as well, with tender looks directed toward each other's eyes on the way there.
Carly smiles. "They want to escape from the fact that we need to learn more corny choreography today." She motions to the dishes left in the sink, "And, honestly, I would to, but apparently, we have kitchen duty today."
Brooke shakes her head. "Kristy and Ramiele were supposed to cover for us today, you know."
"Leave them to themselves," Carly waves with a tilt of her head. "Besides, Brooke. We have nothing else to do."
Brooke shrugs and proceeds to turn on the water. With a sigh, she says, "What's new?"
David falls onto the bed with a groan, Michael effortlessly falling on top of him as though it is the most natural thing in the world. Michael holds his weight up by bracing himself, placing his hands on either side of David's head, and David can feel his mouth twisting up into a grin as he says, "You should lay off those chocolate chip cookies, Mike."
Michael has the grace to look indignantly down at him, before an innocent look fills his eyes and a wide smile forms on his face. Oh, God, he's got something, David thinks as he raises an eyebrow at Michael. "What?"
The Australian starts to chuckle. "You," he begins, but then takes a deep breath as laughter begins to control his body, "d --do you realize what you've just said?"
David is hit with realization, and he begins to chuckle as a smile finds its way onto his mouth. "Oh, Mikey," he says.
The Australian continues to laugh. "You just flat-out told me to lay off cookies."
"Yes," David says slowly, drawing out the word, the smile widening. "However, I seem to remember talking about chocolate chip cookies. Not me."
The Missourian doesn't know what it is about Michael's smile, but every time he sees it --every time he sees the 'this is how to make a David Cook melt' smile-- he is lost, thrown to the very edges of existence, because the smile is just --too handsome to put into words. "I think it's cute, though," Michael presses on, and he pouts when David laughs; David is tempted to kiss the pout away. "Don't you, Dave?"
David nods --not because he thinks it's cute, because, in fact, he thinks the idea is absolutely ridiculous, but what else could you say when a handsome Michael Johns is giving you what has to be the cutest pout in the world?-- and then reaches up to ruffle Michael's hair, a gentler smile forming on his face. "Of course, Mikey. But how about we stop talking about laying off cookies, and how about you start indulging in this Cookie before this Cookie actually decides to tell you to lay off?"
There is the handsome smile on Michael's face again. He brings his face closer to David, so close that their noses are almost touching, and he whispers, "I thought you'd --"
A loud knocking on their door makes Michael groan, bite his lip, and crane his neck in frustration, and David shake his head in displeasure. He shivers slightly when Michael buries his face in the crook of his neck, and the Missourian smiles in spite of himself. He raises a hand and buries it in Michael's hair. He turns his head in the direction of the door, "Who is it?"
"It's Kristy!" comes the reply from the other side of the door.
Michael groans once more, shaking his head, and David closes his eyes in frustration. "Yeah?"
"It's rehearsal time!" she calls out, so darlingly oblivious to the fact that she had interrupted what David had been so prepared to call one of the better preludes to rehearsals. Michael blatantly has no desire to answer her, so David says loudly, in spite of himself, "All right! T --thanks, Kristy!"
She knocks on their door once more, signaling she'd heard them, and within moments, they can hear her footsteps moving further and further away. As soon as David is sure Kristy is gone, he removes his hand from Michael's hair, and lets it drop to his side. Michael raises his head and looks seriously in the eye, but they both dissolve into laughter immediately.
"That girl's got great timing," David remarks dryly, accompanying his statement with the raising of his eyebrow.
"Can't possibly be all her," Michael says with a forceful shake of his head. He gently raises himself, shifting his body so that he is in a sitting position. David keeps still as he feels the shifting of weight on the bed, and then looks up at Michael. At a nod from the Australian, the Missourian is sitting up, too.
"Do you think they'll send Carly to come up and get us if we're not down there in less than five minutes?" David muses as he leans on Michael's shoulder, then protests loudly when the older man stands up abruptly, throwing Michael a dangerous glare.
The Australian smiles smugly at him. "When you think about it," he says, holding out a hand that David takes hold of with no hesitation; David stands as Michael gently tugs on him, "it probably would be nice if Carly came up, once you get past the threatening image of her yelling at us for making everyone late" --Michael pauses, and they both shudder exaggeratedly-- "because, you know, just think of all the excuses we could possibly give her, or Brooke, or Jason, that we couldn't possibly have given anyone else."
He can see a tiny gleam lighting up Michael's eyes. David's mind processes several excuses at once, ranging from vague to tame to double entendres to downright dirty. He looks down, face flushing, before he shakes his head and looks Michael square in the eye. "You know, if we don't start moving, she really will come up, and by then, I don't think any of our excuses could possibly work --"
David is caught by surprise by Michael's swift movement --the taking hold of his wrist, the pressing of their lips together, the very scent of Michael and his very appearance invading his senses-- but taking into consideration the result of Michael's past 'surprises,' David finds he doesn't really mind them anymore. Michael breaks the kiss, and then proceeds to kiss David on the cheek.
"For last night," he says simply, and then goes on to open the door, gesturing grandly to the opening. David cocks his head appreciatively, and then steps out, Michael following and shutting the door behind him.
"Remind me again why I'm so happy we're at the end of the hallway," the taller man says with a laugh as they walk at a leisurely pace to the staircase.
David makes a move and interlocks their fingers quickly. "Reason number one," he says with a large smile.
Michael returns the smile with a nod. "Oh, yes."
There's just something about their week-to-week choreography that Ramiele just doesn't understand. She doesn't know what it is but whatever the week, there are suddenly three million more turns and five hundred more steps, complete with the switching of partners and walking and the division of the solos and --sometimes, it really is just too much to take in. As the nine head downstairs to their dressing rooms, Ramiele thinks back to a few hours earlier, when they had just arrived at the theater, and the only one who had readily accepted the challenge of a new dance was Michael --and even 'accepting' the dance was pushing it. He had only shown the enthusiasm, she supposes, because none of the rest of them did. It --makes her feel bad, even now, because she had seen the disappointed look in their choreographer's eyes; she believes it was there because even she had seen through Michael's fake enthusiasm. It doesn't take long, though, because following Michael's example of taking it all in stride, head high with a goofy grin adorning his face, everyone is smiling and dancing along.
Michael dancing his 'dance' --closing his hands into fists and pulling them towards him, shaking his hips and his eyebrows raised-- might have had something to do with the sudden burst of energy among them all, because Michael and his dance had been the one thing that got Ramiele into learning the choreography. So it wasn't that bad --at least Michael or anyone else isn't required to fall down and grab onto someone's leg-- but the corny kicks were still there. Ramiele sighs, a smile on her face, as she enters her dressing room. They were given what they were given, and they had to work with what they had, didn't they? They had to own that stage tonight.
The image of Michael doing his self-declared 'sexy-dance' makes her smile and think that, after all, that is what they all love about the man that is Michael Lee Johns. The fact that, even in the most trying of times, he is their source of fun and entertainment, all the way from his dance to his corny jokes. (Honestly! Who gives jokes about sun-burned zebras and road-crossing chicken anymore?) She collapses onto the chair by the large mirror lit up by several light bulbs, picking up her phone with superhuman speed as it lights up and proclaims "New message!"
The smile on her face reaches a width so wide it begins to hurt as she sees the name Danny headlining the text.
Rami! <3
It's one of those TMTH Wed.'s again! ><
So sorry I'm not there with you!
But you're gonna be fine. (;
Good luck! :]
She holds her phone close to her heart. Danny has been what has been getting her through the past weeks. She misses his flamboyant presence terribly, and she is glad that he manages to find the time to text her at least every other day, and is also glad that she manages to find --if not forcibly make-- time to text him back.
Danny, she punches in quickly, watching the letters pop up on the screen.
IKR? Wish you could be here, too!
Thanks so much, Danny! IMYSM! <3
Carly looks at the sheet of paper containing the lyrics to the song they're going to sing as a whole tonight. '9 to 5' is a great, upbeat song, and simply because of that fact, the song should at the very least have more of an actual choreographed dance rather than just a --a dance that made them resemble cowboys and cowgirls gone bad. She knows it's not the choreographer's fault, at least, not all of it, because the choreographer did give her a great idea.
"Hey, you," Brooke's voice floats towards her, and Carly looks up in the direction of the opening door to her dressing room. She uncrosses her legs, stands up, and walks over to the Arizona-born blonde, smiling as Brooke says, "What's up?"
"Is it boring over there, where you're at?" Carly says cheekily, and Brooke shakes her head.
"Not boring," she grins. "Pretty much lonely. I think Sye and Kris are exchanging styling tips for hair, or something."
Carly laughs, and then raises an eyebrow. "Sye and Kris?" she asks incredulously. "Styling tips? I think Sye would be better off getting tips from you. I don't think Kristy's style necessarily --compliments Syesha."
Brooke waves it off, a sincere smile on her face. "Let them be. If that's what gets rid of their nerves on Wednesdays, then it's all right." Her voice and appearance turns serious, her smile disappearing, her lips thinning, her forehead wrinkling as concerned words come out of her mouth, "We did all right, didn't we?"
The Irishwoman smiles reassuringly, reaching over and hugging Brooke tightly. "You did great, Brooke. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise."
"But just say I went home today," Brooke begins, and Carly shushes her immediately, releasing the other woman from the hug but keeping a firm hold on her shoulders.
"So what?" Carly says bluntly, and presses onward, despite the hurt in Brooke's eyes. "The show would've lost one hell-of-a girl. But what would you have lost, Brooke? Absolutely nothing. Idol should be happy you were even on this show, Brooke, trust me." Her grip on Brooke tightens, and the woman shakes her head, the hurt disappearing, determination replacing it quickly. "Being eliminated from this show doesn't strip you of your voice, you know. In fact, people will know you, record companies will be falling over each other to sign you!" She pauses to take a deep breath. "In fact, I think we're being selfish, keeping you cooped up here when you could have probably sold millions of records by now."
Brooke smiles, and hugs Carly. "You're not being selfish at all," she says, and Carly can hear the tears in her voice. "I --I like it here. And I think I want to stay a little while longer."
"That's the spirit." Carly smiles, even if Brooke cannot see, and pats the blonde woman twice on the back. "Besides. I don't know how our boys would take it if you were gone now. In fact, I don't know how I would take it!" Brooke pulls away and wipes tears that have spilled from her blue eyes.
"I can't do all the marriage counseling by myself, you know."
The transition from hassle-free to "Five minutes to show-time!" is a funny one, Jason notes with appreciation. There are the Idols --technically, there is Kristy, dashing up a flight of stairs to get her makeup done literally minutes to show-time-- scrambling to get into their positions, Brooke to the left and a powdered-and-mascaraed Kristy Lee to the right, and everyone else in between. There are the stagehands, dashing around here and there and everywhere to make sure that the microphones are properly working, to ensure them that "you guys'll do great," and it sounds so robotic that Jason has to laugh at all of it.
He ignores the stares from the rest of the nine, because they don't need to understand what he does. He simply offers them a toothy smile, and they turn their heads away from him again. He can feel Ramiele's nervousness radiating from the girl, and he reaches over to grip her shoulder comfortingly. She nods in thanks, and he nods in return, because there is nothing else to say. The stage has opened, and the nine of them begin moving, Jason's body and everyone else's moving rhythmically to the music that is Dolly Parton's '9 to 5.' Brooke has the first solo of the evening, and she nails it, naturally, in a way Kristy Lee doesn't. Jason is distracted from Kristy Lee's voice, however, when his eyes swivel from the male Cook, who has to be the stiffest male in the history of Idol's choreographed dances, to the six-foot-three Australian in the middle of them all, a large smile plastered on his face as they begin to shift into pairs.
Jason stays in the back as Kristy Lee walks --skips, jumps, hops, dances, he doesn't know anymore-- toward him, and he has to smile. He doubts the choreographer knows of Michael and David, but, watching them as Brooke and the younger David finish spinning around each other, watching them press their backs together and sing the next line of the song, Jason knows he can't say the choreographer is totally clueless.
Not even the blind could have missed the looks Michael and David shoot each other.
Michael moves to the center of the group now, and the spotlight is all on him, and it is well-deserved. The half-hearted attempt to raise his hands over his head makes Jason shake his head in laughter, but he keeps in time with the song, dancing along as Michael delivers like he always does, week after week. Something in the back of Jason's mind wants to tape everyone else's mouth shut and let Michael sing the rest of the song, but since he is onstage right now and, sadly, doesn't have any access to tape, he settles linking his arm with Kristy and spinning around like a pair of idiots.
He really wants to know where their choreographer gets their dance moves, but doesn't think of anything but the lyrics as he is thrust into his solo.
You got a dream he'll never take away.
Michael stands next to Brooke, shaking his hips side to side as Syesha belts out her solo and resisting the temptation to flat-out refuse to follow the choreography. He is one step late as Archuleta takes center stage and the eight remaining divide themselves up, but quickly recovers himself and heads on over to Carly, Syesha, and Brooke, who remains standing next to him. Archuleta's grown over the past few weeks, he thinks bemusedly to himself, because the teenager definitely has more --stage presence. The song becomes his, even for a brief moment as the rest of the Idols remain silent, and he isn't drowned out by the rest of their voices as they sing together, descend the stairs together, and watch with pleasure together as Carly gets herself up onto the table and sings right in front of Simon Cowell.
They sing another "Nine to five" together before it's David with his solo, and Michael has to stop at the first step of the small stage behind the judges' table, because David's voice stands out from the rest of them, raspy but strong, powerful without even trying. He gets himself up next to Syesha and Archie, and steps slightly out of Carly's way as she moves to the center in the middle of Brooke and Jason.
They are separated into threes now, David, Syesha, and Michael to the left of the judges; Brooke, Carly, and Jason directly behind them; and Ramiele, Archie, and Kristy to their right. Carly's voice soars over them again, and then it's back to the group singing as a whole, entering "They just use your mind" with Michael's palm open and moving in a circular motion. Dirty thoughts run into his mind as he squints into the camera, but he tucks them away for later as they get to the final notes of the song, and then --"Nine to five!" The last word is out of Michael's mouth, he has fallen down into what has to be the cheesiest pose on television --he's not complaining, though, he's having tremendous fun while doing it-- and then the only thought in his mind is, Don't fall on Simon, don't fall on Simon, you cannot fall on Simon Cowell on national television!
He relishes the applause as they go to commercial, standing up and thrusting one of his hands in the air. Wasn't bad at all, he muses to himself as he steps off the stage after David, and then runs up the steps of the larger stage, dashing to get backstage. He feels the adrenaline rushing through his body and delights in the fact that he sees the same expression of breathless rush on David's --and everyone else's-- face. He smiles as Ramiele comes over to him, jumping around and settling for hugging him tightly around his midsection. He laughs as she squeezes hard, and then pats her on the head. "See?" he tells her. "You did great, Ramiele."
He laughs even harder as she mimics his dance, pulling away from him and pulling her fisted hands toward herself, and he throws her a wink as she says, "All in the dance, right, Mike?"
"Oh, no," Carly moans with a grin as she comes over with David, Brooke, and Jason. She claps Michael on the back, and then stands next to him so that Brooke could give him a hug. "You've taught her the dance."
Michael nods enthusiastically, catching David's eye as Jason walks over to pat him on the back; the tender smile on his face now is all thanks to the Missourian, who is shaking his head and laughing. "I know, I know," he says, throwing one hand in front of him as he moves on over to David, wrapping an arm around the other man's shoulders. "I know you wanted to be the first one to learn it, Carly, but I'm sorry! She was just so small and cute and she was so eager to learn!"
Carly shakes her head, but the large smile on her face betrays her amusement.
"You did good out there," David says quietly, as he leans in to Michael's touch, and Michael grins.
"Did you have any doubts about it?"
"You're so full of yourself, Michael Johns," David retorts, and the five of them laugh.
Michael dips his head and whispers into David's ear, "Thought it was your job to be full of me, babe."
The Australian takes pleasure in being the only one who knows the reason why David has turned cotton candy pink.
"All right, you lovebirds," Carly says loudly as they return from commercial and Ryan begins to show a montage of last night's performances. "Enough. Cameras are rolling again."
"Damn the cameras," Michael responds, and brings up a hand to ruffle David's hair, then presses a kiss to his forehead. The five move over to where Kristy and Ramiele are nervously holding on to each other, where the younger David is wringing his hands, where Syesha is wrapping an arm around him, shaking him and comfortingly saying that there's no doubt he'll get through to next week. Carly stands to the side, eyeing Michael as his face turns grave. He leans on the railing by their television screen, looking up as a clip of David's performance of 'Little Sparrow' comes on.
Carly tilts her head to the side and calls over to David, "Good job, Dave," just as Michael straightens himself and glances back at David, eyebrow raising smoothly. David shakes his head, exasperatedly looking away, but she knows he's smiling. None of them cannot stay mad at Michael Johns for too long. She thinks Michael just can't help teasing David about the way women everywhere had fallen over each other during his rendition of his original arrangement of Dolly Parton's 'Little Sparrow,' but, then again, she believes it is the way Michael shows his affection to David as subtly as he can, around others who know nothing of their relationship, shows it in the way he points out things that, in his mind, he'd have been free to openly love, had he been the opposite gender. Of course, behind close doors, Carly knows that Michael openly shows his love to David in every single way possible --ways she'd rather not think of, of course, as clips of Syesha's performance is shown-- but here, on the Idol stage where the people are like hawks and the media like vultures, it is dangerous to show open affection for each other.
It is sad, how two people who she knows truly love each other by the way David is gazing lovingly at Michael as Michael's clip is shown, that light in his eyes sparked by something none of rest of them have, something only Michael has, cannot show the affection they have for each other without having to care about what the rest of the world thinks of them.
Carly cannot find any more reasons to deny the fact that David Cook, really and truly, is in love with Michael Johns. She can see it in the way he reaches past Jason and the younger David to clap Michael on the back as he is called out first.
There's no doubt in Carly's mind, though, as she listens to the applause greeting the Australian as he walks to center stage, stopping next to Ryan; no way in hell is Michael Johns going home tonight, not on the back of a performance like the night before.
He practically has the whole world seduced with his song.
Michael looks at Ryan nervously as the host mentions bits and pieces of the judges' feedback. He looks out into the audience and sees a head of blonde hair, seated next to three of his friends. He can see Stacey, her hands clasped together and her eyes wide and hopeful, and Michael can feel his heart beginning to give way within him. It's a pain he knows he should have expected a long time ago --it's only now he remembers that he told Stacey he'd make time to call her a few days back-- but it still overwhelms him, how it hits him out of nowhere, brought on only by Stacey's appearance.
Ryan's voice brings him back to reality. "How'd you feel about it?"
He answers quickly, because he can feel his heart rising into his throat, threatening to spill it all, "Uhm, yeah. I was --totally in my element there. Totally loved singing that s --that type of song."
The host looks at him and asks, "Comfortable?" and even Michael is taken aback at how quickly he responds, "Sure." Ryan eyes him, eyes narrowing slightly, but it is only for a moment, because he is immediately declared safe, and he is walking past Seacrest, raising his hand in thanks to the audience clapping for him. Stacey catches his eye, and she smiles for him and only him, her hands raised and clapping so proudly for him, and he has no choice but to smile back.
It isn't as though he doesn't want to, though. Even he has to admit that she looks very beautiful tonight, and the smile on her face compliments the light in her eyes, something he can see even from such a distance. "Thanks," he mouths, and he can see her nod. You're forgiven for not calling me, Mikey, he can almost hear her say.
Michael isn't sure he wants --or deserves-- her forgiveness.
David seats himself comfortably on the top sofa next to Brooke, who is between him and Michael, who is seated comfortably next to Ramiele and the other David, as the cameras start rolling again. Below him, Syesha, Carly, Kristy, and Jason seat themselves, and they all wait with bated breath for Ryan to announce the first caller. It's a call for Syesha, and as she responds and tells the caller and America what it is she truly misses the most about home, he begins to think of Blue Springs, and when, after the whole Idol ordeal is over, he could convince Michael to come home with him, even for just a day or two.
The next question, the question on line four, snaps him out of his fantasizing as the voice over the phone says, "David Cook, if you could succeed at any other talent, what would it be, and why?"
He can see from the corner of his eye that Michael has leaned over Brooke, and Jason quickly looks up over his shoulder at him, and he knows his answer immediately. "Uh, I don't know if it's a talent, uh, I wish I were more organized." He can already hear Brooke's light chuckle as he continues. "I'm kind of a slob." Michael's laughter is loud, and suddenly, Jason's finger is pointing up at him, a wide smile on the face of the young man with the dreadlocks. "My mom's in the audience, I'm sure she'll attest" --there is more laughter as Michael says, "It's true" and Jason reveals, "We're roommates"-- "and so will my roommates," he adds with a sheepish grin. "Sorry, Michael and Jason. Yeah. That's about it."
The laughter dies down and gives way to applause as the next question is revealed to be for Randy, but it doesn't interest him at all until line nine is called upon, and the caller says, "Uhm, my question is for Michael Johns and-or David Cook."
Carly is the first one to burst into laughter, followed in suit by Kristy Lee, who leans on her, and Ramiele, who just shakes her head. He turns his head to eye Brooke, whose eyes are already smiling as she defends herself quickly, "They don't know anything, I swear."
"I was wondering," the female on the other line continues, "is there a certain song you'd love to sing on the Idols tour this summer? If so, what is it?"
Ryan looks up and raises an eyebrow, nodding his head and looking up at David, then swiveling his eyes over to Michael. "Good question," he comments.
Michael looks at David, and David smiles widely. "I'll let you handle that," he says with a nod.
Michael has an equally wide grin on his face, and the Australian answers, "Well, we were supposed to do it in Dolly's week, but 'Islands in the Stream,' I think; we were gonna do --"
David cuts him off as the gleam in Michael's eyes get brighter. He drapes a leg over the other, nods in agreement, and says, "We were just gonna sing it, uh --"
The Australian continues, "A duet," and then laughs.
"-- I was gonna do Dolly's part," he continues, and then pauses for effect, "it was pretty awesome."
He relishes in the sound of Michael's laughter before the other man says, "No, uhm, we haven't thought that far, we're just trying to get through, uh, week to week, to be more than honest."
He can see the camera twisting in his direction, so he gives a confirming nod and says, "Yup."
Michael seals it with a "Yeah," and they move on to a phone call for Simon. It bores him, it really does, despite the obvious entertainment the audience receives for Simon promising not to apologize after his --nastier comments, and the introduction of the 'Next Great American Band' --he is sorry to say, he doesn't see it well, maybe not yet-- only slightly sparks his interest. He watches the performance with a small smile, and then stands up with the rest of them as they politely applause.
He turns his head and catches Michael's eye as the cameras stop rolling for commercial. "I'll see you in a few," Michael mouths to him as all but the Australian, Brooke, and Archie step off of the sofas and head back to stage.
"Definitely," David smiles, tilting his head and pretending to tip a hat in Michael's direction. "Definitely."
Michael feels empty as David leaves the stage, but his eyes are directed immediately toward the large screen in the center of the stage as their Ford commercial begins to play. He has to duck his head into his hands immediately as they show them playing (choreographed, nonetheless!) basketball. He knows it's entertaining, he can hear it in the applause, but he finds it awfully embarrassing. He raises his head, and proceeds to raise an eyebrow as he watches himself walk away and high-five Kristy Lee.
He watches with bated breath as Ryan calls out David, and his mind automatically begins to chant He's not going home, he's not going home, no way is he going to go home, and he needs to exert so much control over himself to prevent his body from jumping up and pumping his fist in the air, screaming, "Yes, I knew it!" He stands up halfway to congratulate David, and David shoots him a gaze. Michael smiles in response, and then sits back down just as Ramiele is called, and after Ryan finishes the recap and announces that she is the first to be in the bottom three, the enthusiasm suddenly drains from him. He doesn't even need to crane his neck to his right to see the pained expression on David's face; he knows how close the two have gotten over their weeks together, and if the girl went tonight--
There's still hope, Michael thinks to himself as he takes deep breaths, watching with narrowed eyes as Kristy Lee explains the sheet of paper with 'Kristy's Seat' written all over it, shaking his head as she heads on over to sit with Ramiele. There were only three people left, three people who could possibly fill that seat, and Michael groans.
It might be convenient in the near future, yes --and Michael plans to slap himself later for such a selfish thought-- but he isn't prepared to lose a roommate like Jason, not yet, and he has no desire to say goodbye to Brooke yet. That leaves Syesha, but Syesha --compared to Kristy and Ramiele-- has the voice and that little spark of the theater in her, and it is impossible not to keep her around.
He shakes his head, lets out a low whistle, and is prepared to bow to Ryan in gratitude as they fall into commercial. Michael stands, says "Excuse me" to the younger David and Carly, and then takes a seat next to David, wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders. The younger man looks a little paler than usual, and his face has confusion written all over it. "Brooke or Jason could be number three," he whispers, looking straight ahead into nothingness. "Brooke or Jason or Rami could be going home today."
Michael looks past David to Carly, who proceeds to take a hold of his hand. "It gets harder every Wednesday," she begins, and Michael glares pointedly at her; she continues as though she hadn't seen him, "but remember, Dave, this is just their platform. This'll get them where they want to be."
"She's right, Dave," Michael continues, patting David twice. "We may be sad to see them go, but think of them in the long run. People know them now, David, know their talent, and this time next year, you never know, you could be seeing an album from one of us, or some of us, or all of us, topping charts! This is just the first step to a great career, Dave."
David looks up at him, and then turns his head to look closely at Carly. He nods once, blinks twice, and then sighs. It is not relieved, but it is less stressed. "Yeah. Yeah, you guys are right."
Michael and Carly exchange sly glances.
"When are we not?"
David shakes his head and then swats at Michael, "Back to your seat!"
Michael grins widely, "Yes, sir!"
Brooke tries very hard to pay attention to the video Ryan has just introduced, but it is hard, attempting to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. This could be --this could possibly be her last night spent with these amazing people. This could possibly be the last chance she gets to perform in front of such a wonderful, supportive crowd; last night could have been the last chance she could have gotten critiqued by Randy, Paula, and Simon, and --
"You need to stop worrying so much," Jason tells her, draping one of his arms around his shoulders and pulling her close to him, doing the same to Syesha. "You two'll be fine, you'll see."
"How can you be so calm about this?" Syesha asks him, disbelief in her voice, and Brooke thinks, You've taken the words right out of my mouth.
"I'm not so much calm as I am accepting," he says, bright blue eyes firm and the goofy smile gone from his face. "We're in a competition, you know? One by one, we're going to get eliminated until the last person is crowned 'the American Idol'" --Brooke has to share a giggle with Syesha as they shake their heads at Jason's attempt to imitate Ryan-- "and until we get there, it's not going to be easy, but you've got to start living with that fact." Brooke wraps an arm around Jason's waist and squeezes tightly. "From here on out, we're just a really close group, we're family, and nobody really wants to see their family go away."
It takes the Arizonian a while before she realizes there are tears in her eyes. "Aw, Brooke," Syesha says as she frees herself from Jason's hands and then hugs the blonde tightly. "We love you so much, too, no matter what, no matter where you go."
Brooke nods, and she smiles on her face, because, although they have only known each other for months, it is as though they have all spent countless lifetimes together. It is amazing, what living in close quarters with each other does; people get on your nerves, yes, and there are the days where you forsake them and all that they are because they make you so frustrated, but the days spent in laughter, in fun, greatly outnumber those down days, and these are the memories she knows she will not be letting go of. Not in three years, not in ten, not in one hundred.
"Thanks, you guys," she tells them, and then gives Syesha a tight hug as the girl is called out. "And good luck," she says, voice slightly hoarse. Syesha looks back and gives her a thumbs-up, and she nods. Brooke turns to Jason, whose grin is once more on his face, the wide grin returning as well. His baby blue eyes are shining, seemingly smiling. He playfully offers his arm to her just as Syesha is declared safe, and she hooks her arm in his, Jason walking her out as Ryan calls their names.
Here we go.
David watches with disbelief as the final space in the bottom three is filled by Brooke; he doesn't, of course, want Jason in that seat, either, but the very shock of it all consumes him. Something is so very wrong here, because he is in danger of losing Brooke, who has been his confidante, his person, like Carly is Michael's, and he is in danger of losing Ramiele, the girl with the bubbly personality and all the right things to say when he needs a smile on his face, hell, the girl even learned Michael's 'sexy-dance'! He knows it's evil of him, he knows it's selfish of him, but his darker side is let loose for one moment as he wishes Kristy Lee home.
He isn't ready to say goodbye to either Brooke or Ramiele yet, not for another week.
The emotion is building up inside of him, and he can feel the wetness in his eyes, and he can feel the large lump in his throat, and he doesn't dare move, because he fears he will fall apart if even the smallest of his hairs shift in any given direction. The fact that the tape of the Ethiopian girl searching for her sister has come on doesn't help in any way, shape, or form. He watches her story unfold before his eyes, and he can feel the tears threatening to fall, and he has to force himself not to listen to Carly's sobs as the girl continues to desperately search the streets of Addis Ababa for her sister, because if he hears any more of her, he will --
The image of the girl finding her sister has done it. David can feel the tears running down his cheeks, and he finds soon enough that he is so mesmerized by the tale that he doesn't have enough strength to wipe the tears away. They are unseen in the dim light, but the video finishes, and David rushes to wipe the tears away. Michael looks over at him, and smiles sympathetically, tilting his head to the side and mouthing, "It's okay, Dave." David nods, and then watches with a smile as Michael bends down and grabs a tissue from the Kleenex box situated by his namesake's feet. He passes it to David, making eye contact as his fingers linger on long after David has taken the tissue in his hands, and he can feel the electricity there. "Thank you," he says, voice raspy, and Michael blinks at him, a smile lighting his eyes, before they are watching Dolly Parton's performance of 'Jesus and Gravity.'
I've got somethin' liftin' me up,
somethin' holdin' me down,
somethin' to give me wings and
somethin' to keep my feet on the ground.
The very concept of the song is beautiful, and tears are once again in David's eyes as he raises the Kleenex to wipe them away. The applause he gives to Dolly's song and performance as they all stand isn't obligatory in any way at all.
It is heartfelt, and David is thankful that she has chosen to share the song with them.
Michael doesn't know whether to be relieved that Brooke is finally sitting with them again, or to be worried that Ramiele is still down there and standing by Kristy Lee. After solving the problem of Simon insulting the violinist that had accompanied Brooke on her performance last night, the Arizonian was declared safe, but not after touching words on Idol Gives Back and Dolly and 'Jesus and Gravity.' The Australian nods his head, because it is the only thing he can do now as he watches Kristy Lee, not Ramiele come back to sit with the rest of them on the sofas. He closes his eyes, because he does not dare look anywhere else, for fear that his eyes will fall on David, who he knows has the Kleenex up to his face, because they're going to have to say goodbye to the Filipina girl tonight.
He knows he doesn't need his gaze to flicker over to his right, because he knows that even if it is painful, David is still faithfully watching Ramiele's elimination tape. He can hear the short, pained laugh coming from the Missourian as they show a clip of him with Ramiele, Ramiele in earphones and looking up from her black MacBook, David looking on and smiling. It makes his heart ache, too, because it doesn't feel right to be sitting even just one person away from David. It just doesn't feel right, and the first chance he gets, once Carly has stepped on over with Brooke, Syesha, and Kristy Lee to Ramiele, once the cameras have all turned away from them, he scoots on over and places a hand on David's shoulder.
"Dave, I," he starts, before David looks at him and shakes his head.
"I --it's all right, Mikey," he says, and Michael's heart threatens to burst at the pain in David's voice. "This is just her first step to a successful career, after all."
"There you go," he answers, and the four males remaining on the sofas stand up and walk on over as Ramiele sings her song. He gives David a little push, and the rocker looks back at him with curious eyes, but Michael smiles softly, and David walks on over to Syesha, who he holds comfortingly around the waist. Michael falls back into a light conversation with Jason as they clap to the beat of Ramiele's song.
"I know he doesn't look like it," he says lowly, "but he's taking it hard."
"I know," Jason assures him with a nod of his head, "but you're there for him. He'll be all right."
Michael smiles at Jason in thanks, and the young man with the dreadlocks nods at him.
"Don't even mention it, Mike. It's what me, Carly, and Brooke are here for."
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