FIC: One Result (1/1)
Title: One Result.
Fandom: Real People.
Characters: Jared Leto.
Prompt: Table 2; #34 - Leave. (for 100_situations)
Word Count: 1,903. (counting lyrics)
Rating: PG-13 for swearing, implied relationship.
Summary: The ones we love always hurt us the deepest, and that pain can be even deeper when it's a love that most others wouldn't understand.
Author's Notes: The idea for this hit me when I was listening to the song last night and I felt compelled to start it before work today. Now that I’ve finished it I think I’m pretty happy with it, though the ending didn’t quite want to come together right for me. Lyrics used are from “Ender” by Finch.
Silence. Another road traveled in the dead of night, awake while the rest of the world slept. The rest of his world too slept, tucked away beneath blankets and sheets, pillows clutched close like a dear friend or brushed away unneeded.
That was how Jared felt sometimes, unneeded. Not that he would ever say such a thing, but he supposed if a person wanted to notice it they would. That was the way that emotions usually worked. The more you tried to hide something the easier it became for the people who knew you best to see it. Hiding was his way of life though, the important parts of him tucked away safely beneath layers upon layers and only those of worth ever uncovered such things. But not all of the layers were there to be stripped away or broken though, not all of them could be. Some had plenty of time to strengthen themselves, to harden and reinforce defenses, locking out those which once had been granted a glimpse at what treasure lay beneath. It was unfortunate but necessary. Self preservation was perhaps the strongest instinct, save one.
Here I am beside myself again
I'm torn apart by words that you have said
"What the hell are you laughing about?"
"God, if you could only see yourself..."
A blank stare, then slight narrowing of eyes. Whatever was coming he knew he wouldn't like.
"... You're as doe-eyed as the girls at the shows. 'Oh my God! Jared Leto looked at me! I can die happy now.' " The high-pitched voice would have been humorous under other circumstances.
"Fuck you."
"And it's even more perfect with your eyes. See, you can be giving a death stare like right now and everyone would still swoon. You're just so dreamy, J."
The laughter could still be heard over the slamming door and it haunted him for days.
"So what's this I hear about you falling in love?"
"Apparently you've been hearing a load of crap."
"Which is what I thought to begin with but hey, you do have a heart somewhere in there."
"That joke's gotten old, you know."
"You tolerate it from me."
"Sometimes,"
"Always,"
"How 'bout never?"
"You know you love me,"
If only you knew...
"What the fuck is your problem? Just barging in --"
"What do you mean what's my problem? What's your problem? How long have you two been fucking?"
"Like it's any of your damn business."
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me. ... I'm not going to have a fling breaking up the band."
"It's not a fling, Jared. I do believe that's your area of expertise."
"Well it apparently takes one to know one."
"Fuck you,"
"Not anymore. How long, damn it. Fucking tell me."
"Long enough to know it's not a fling."
"I said -"
"Almost a year, is that what you wanted to hear? Give me a break, J. All we ever did was screw around. We were there for each other. That's it."
"And you love him?"
"Maybe. I don't know,"
"I can't fucking believe this..."
"Get the fuck over yourself. All those starlets are giving you a big ego. The world doesn't revolve around you and it never has, it's about time you learned that."
And all and all I know we're falling apart
Where did you run to so far away?
He could see them from where he sat, curled on the small bench more like a child than a man, the laptop he had been distracting himself with idle now that all but he and the driver were asleep. Sometimes he wondered what they looked for when they took their perch at the window to stare out at the world for hours or until sleep overtook them. Occasionally he felt their eyes but never would he look up, just focus more intently on the digital screen before him, turn up the volume on the music coming from his headphones, pretend that he was deeply engrossed in whatever he was doing and not all but hanging on the thread of their existence.
It left him noticeably tired almost every day, these nocturnal observations, but they seemed all he had anymore. For a few hours there were only the two of them sharing the same space, the same air, even if only one was aware of it. His eyes would follow paths his fingers no longer could, leaving both image and emotion to travel from eye to brain to hand. The scratch of charcoal against paper was never louder than the gentle breathing that seemed to echo in the small space and eyes constantly darted from object of affection down the narrow corridor and back. An interruption would foul his mood for the day but discovery would ruin it all.
Twilight melting into dawn was his favorite time though the warming of colors the light brought often made his heart ache to the point of becoming unbearable. Memories of mornings spent waking beneath skin-warmed sheets with arms wound around bodies and lips ghosting over skin they caressed the night before would fill his mind and tug at what little love he had to give. But then the memories would fade as lips pressed together and blue darkened as he corrected himself; what little love was left to give, what had not already been given away only to be discarded as if it meant nothing at all. Part of him would argue that was too harsh of a judgment, that it wasn't fair when he couldn't be certain of such a thing. He could be certain of what he felt though, how their actions and the words that went unsaid made him feel, and that was more than enough to tell him where he stood.
And here we are to sing you a song
And there you are asleep against the windowpane
Just like always...
One night the threshold was reached and it was all he could do to hold it together until safety could be found in the cold, empty space of a hotel room. A different floor, the opposite end, and Blackberry left behind on the bus, aiming for as much isolation as possible. Physical isolation to match the emotional isolation that had been going on for months, for what felt like forever. Maybe that was part of what made it hurt so much. That in such a short amount of time something that was built up over years could so easily be shattered.
Dawn was a harsh slap in the face that left no pain because his emotions had already wrung him raw. Eyes and chest burned, throat ached, knuckles and temples throbbed. He felt like there was nothing left inside of him, the empty room had taken it all and given nothing in return, as he was now so used to receiving.
Lightheaded and exhausted, he laid on the carpet for... he didn't know how long, eyes staring into the glaring sun until it became covered with clouds, until those clouds turned from white to grey and the sunlight began to fade. His body loudly protested when movement finally came, bruised knuckles rubbing at dry eyes. He could hide away from them all he liked, but he still had a show to do that night.
You said you like to hear the rain sometimes
And all I can do is tell you the truth
During a break for water out of the corner of his eye he caught a concerned look directed his way but felt no satisfaction. It was too little too late. He was done, and no amount of concern from them would change his mind, change the decision his heart had reached when the tears threatened to drown him.
The feel of the spotlight upon him, the emptiness and lack of movement on three sides as it came time for the traditional "Capricorn" solo brought emotion back to him in a flood. Halfway through he paused, looked skyward, and fingers began to play a different tune. It brought relative silence, the vague sound of confusion from off stage, out of sight. Satisfaction finally came then and his eyes closed as what anguish had given him just hours earlier was voiced for the first time. Words couldn't describe how good it felt, to finally get how he felt out, to give it all to the music and let the reins be taken from him for a few long minutes.
As the echo of his voice faded blurry eyes took in the nameless faces before him, found shared anguish and pain in some, and a small spiteful part of him hoped they felt it too. He disappeared into the darkness off stage, moved opposite of the usual, having only one destination in his mind, one task to be carried out. The weight of his guitar on his back brought him comfort as he moved swiftly, ignoring the chill of night air to jog back to the hotel. His body was tired, mind and soul exhausted, but he forced himself to continue. Just a little longer, a little further, and then rest could come.
A key to their room was as easy as ever to get and he stopped in his own to change what he carried before continuing to theirs. Time was not on his side, someone would have noticed, realized he was gone and not simply to get a breath of air, someone would be heading back to the hotel by now. Entering their room pained him more than he could have anticipated, finding two sets of clothes strewn over a chair, two bags near the dresser. They had moved on, clearly. Or maybe he was the only one with anything to move on from. He would never know.
It was with a sense of panic that he wasn't used to feeling that Shannon moved quickly for his room. He still didn't know where Jared's room was, none of them did, and he held out hope that maybe, just maybe, Jared would be in his. His brother's haunting voice had yet to stop echoing in his head, funny since never before had he heard the song they all heard that night.
Haste might have made him overlook what lay on the bed were it not for the contrast of the dark sketchbook against the light bed sheets. The edges felt soft against his hands as he picked it up, worn smooth from use, and his heart was in his throat before he ever opened the cover. Page after page filled with images of himself met his eyes, some mere sketches, others having clearly taken hours. There were a few of the two of them, smiling, absently touching each other, and his heart constricted.
A page fluttered free and he caught it before it fell far, and it only took him a moment to recognize the words that were still repeating in his head. His brother's familiar scrawl was hasty, angled sharply in spots, and there were a few instances where the ink had bled as once damp places had been written on. But it was the words at the very bottom, written off to the side and separate from the lyrics, that hit him the hardest.
"I had a heart; you just didn't want it, Shan."
We grasp our hands together
We feel we are one result...
Fandom: Real People.
Characters: Jared Leto.
Prompt: Table 2; #34 - Leave. (for 100_situations)
Word Count: 1,903. (counting lyrics)
Rating: PG-13 for swearing, implied relationship.
Summary: The ones we love always hurt us the deepest, and that pain can be even deeper when it's a love that most others wouldn't understand.
Author's Notes: The idea for this hit me when I was listening to the song last night and I felt compelled to start it before work today. Now that I’ve finished it I think I’m pretty happy with it, though the ending didn’t quite want to come together right for me. Lyrics used are from “Ender” by Finch.
Silence. Another road traveled in the dead of night, awake while the rest of the world slept. The rest of his world too slept, tucked away beneath blankets and sheets, pillows clutched close like a dear friend or brushed away unneeded.
That was how Jared felt sometimes, unneeded. Not that he would ever say such a thing, but he supposed if a person wanted to notice it they would. That was the way that emotions usually worked. The more you tried to hide something the easier it became for the people who knew you best to see it. Hiding was his way of life though, the important parts of him tucked away safely beneath layers upon layers and only those of worth ever uncovered such things. But not all of the layers were there to be stripped away or broken though, not all of them could be. Some had plenty of time to strengthen themselves, to harden and reinforce defenses, locking out those which once had been granted a glimpse at what treasure lay beneath. It was unfortunate but necessary. Self preservation was perhaps the strongest instinct, save one.
Here I am beside myself again
I'm torn apart by words that you have said
"What the hell are you laughing about?"
"God, if you could only see yourself..."
A blank stare, then slight narrowing of eyes. Whatever was coming he knew he wouldn't like.
"... You're as doe-eyed as the girls at the shows. 'Oh my God! Jared Leto looked at me! I can die happy now.' " The high-pitched voice would have been humorous under other circumstances.
"Fuck you."
"And it's even more perfect with your eyes. See, you can be giving a death stare like right now and everyone would still swoon. You're just so dreamy, J."
The laughter could still be heard over the slamming door and it haunted him for days.
"So what's this I hear about you falling in love?"
"Apparently you've been hearing a load of crap."
"Which is what I thought to begin with but hey, you do have a heart somewhere in there."
"That joke's gotten old, you know."
"You tolerate it from me."
"Sometimes,"
"Always,"
"How 'bout never?"
"You know you love me,"
If only you knew...
"What the fuck is your problem? Just barging in --"
"What do you mean what's my problem? What's your problem? How long have you two been fucking?"
"Like it's any of your damn business."
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me. ... I'm not going to have a fling breaking up the band."
"It's not a fling, Jared. I do believe that's your area of expertise."
"Well it apparently takes one to know one."
"Fuck you,"
"Not anymore. How long, damn it. Fucking tell me."
"Long enough to know it's not a fling."
"I said -"
"Almost a year, is that what you wanted to hear? Give me a break, J. All we ever did was screw around. We were there for each other. That's it."
"And you love him?"
"Maybe. I don't know,"
"I can't fucking believe this..."
"Get the fuck over yourself. All those starlets are giving you a big ego. The world doesn't revolve around you and it never has, it's about time you learned that."
And all and all I know we're falling apart
Where did you run to so far away?
He could see them from where he sat, curled on the small bench more like a child than a man, the laptop he had been distracting himself with idle now that all but he and the driver were asleep. Sometimes he wondered what they looked for when they took their perch at the window to stare out at the world for hours or until sleep overtook them. Occasionally he felt their eyes but never would he look up, just focus more intently on the digital screen before him, turn up the volume on the music coming from his headphones, pretend that he was deeply engrossed in whatever he was doing and not all but hanging on the thread of their existence.
It left him noticeably tired almost every day, these nocturnal observations, but they seemed all he had anymore. For a few hours there were only the two of them sharing the same space, the same air, even if only one was aware of it. His eyes would follow paths his fingers no longer could, leaving both image and emotion to travel from eye to brain to hand. The scratch of charcoal against paper was never louder than the gentle breathing that seemed to echo in the small space and eyes constantly darted from object of affection down the narrow corridor and back. An interruption would foul his mood for the day but discovery would ruin it all.
Twilight melting into dawn was his favorite time though the warming of colors the light brought often made his heart ache to the point of becoming unbearable. Memories of mornings spent waking beneath skin-warmed sheets with arms wound around bodies and lips ghosting over skin they caressed the night before would fill his mind and tug at what little love he had to give. But then the memories would fade as lips pressed together and blue darkened as he corrected himself; what little love was left to give, what had not already been given away only to be discarded as if it meant nothing at all. Part of him would argue that was too harsh of a judgment, that it wasn't fair when he couldn't be certain of such a thing. He could be certain of what he felt though, how their actions and the words that went unsaid made him feel, and that was more than enough to tell him where he stood.
And here we are to sing you a song
And there you are asleep against the windowpane
Just like always...
One night the threshold was reached and it was all he could do to hold it together until safety could be found in the cold, empty space of a hotel room. A different floor, the opposite end, and Blackberry left behind on the bus, aiming for as much isolation as possible. Physical isolation to match the emotional isolation that had been going on for months, for what felt like forever. Maybe that was part of what made it hurt so much. That in such a short amount of time something that was built up over years could so easily be shattered.
Dawn was a harsh slap in the face that left no pain because his emotions had already wrung him raw. Eyes and chest burned, throat ached, knuckles and temples throbbed. He felt like there was nothing left inside of him, the empty room had taken it all and given nothing in return, as he was now so used to receiving.
Lightheaded and exhausted, he laid on the carpet for... he didn't know how long, eyes staring into the glaring sun until it became covered with clouds, until those clouds turned from white to grey and the sunlight began to fade. His body loudly protested when movement finally came, bruised knuckles rubbing at dry eyes. He could hide away from them all he liked, but he still had a show to do that night.
You said you like to hear the rain sometimes
And all I can do is tell you the truth
During a break for water out of the corner of his eye he caught a concerned look directed his way but felt no satisfaction. It was too little too late. He was done, and no amount of concern from them would change his mind, change the decision his heart had reached when the tears threatened to drown him.
The feel of the spotlight upon him, the emptiness and lack of movement on three sides as it came time for the traditional "Capricorn" solo brought emotion back to him in a flood. Halfway through he paused, looked skyward, and fingers began to play a different tune. It brought relative silence, the vague sound of confusion from off stage, out of sight. Satisfaction finally came then and his eyes closed as what anguish had given him just hours earlier was voiced for the first time. Words couldn't describe how good it felt, to finally get how he felt out, to give it all to the music and let the reins be taken from him for a few long minutes.
As the echo of his voice faded blurry eyes took in the nameless faces before him, found shared anguish and pain in some, and a small spiteful part of him hoped they felt it too. He disappeared into the darkness off stage, moved opposite of the usual, having only one destination in his mind, one task to be carried out. The weight of his guitar on his back brought him comfort as he moved swiftly, ignoring the chill of night air to jog back to the hotel. His body was tired, mind and soul exhausted, but he forced himself to continue. Just a little longer, a little further, and then rest could come.
A key to their room was as easy as ever to get and he stopped in his own to change what he carried before continuing to theirs. Time was not on his side, someone would have noticed, realized he was gone and not simply to get a breath of air, someone would be heading back to the hotel by now. Entering their room pained him more than he could have anticipated, finding two sets of clothes strewn over a chair, two bags near the dresser. They had moved on, clearly. Or maybe he was the only one with anything to move on from. He would never know.
It was with a sense of panic that he wasn't used to feeling that Shannon moved quickly for his room. He still didn't know where Jared's room was, none of them did, and he held out hope that maybe, just maybe, Jared would be in his. His brother's haunting voice had yet to stop echoing in his head, funny since never before had he heard the song they all heard that night.
Haste might have made him overlook what lay on the bed were it not for the contrast of the dark sketchbook against the light bed sheets. The edges felt soft against his hands as he picked it up, worn smooth from use, and his heart was in his throat before he ever opened the cover. Page after page filled with images of himself met his eyes, some mere sketches, others having clearly taken hours. There were a few of the two of them, smiling, absently touching each other, and his heart constricted.
A page fluttered free and he caught it before it fell far, and it only took him a moment to recognize the words that were still repeating in his head. His brother's familiar scrawl was hasty, angled sharply in spots, and there were a few instances where the ink had bled as once damp places had been written on. But it was the words at the very bottom, written off to the side and separate from the lyrics, that hit him the hardest.
"I had a heart; you just didn't want it, Shan."
We grasp our hands together
We feel we are one result...