Fic: Our Troubles Will Be Miles Away
Title: Our Troubles Will Be Miles Away
Fandom: Music
Pairing: Rihanna/Chris Brown
Rating: G
Word Count: 1369
Summary: "Maybe what came next could have been avoided if Chris had learned to pay a bit more attention."
Note: written for blackmamba_esq and tokenblkgirl; title taken from "Have Yourself a Merry Christmas"
Our Troubles Will Be Miles Away
Rihanna knew about the ring. She'd found it in the back of Chris' closet during a search for her favourite wool jacket. Chris was a little absentminded when it came to housework, and often put their clothes together. She'd found this endearing when they first started living together, but after the honeymoon period she started to find it a little grating. The last thing she wanted to do was go through Chris' numerous heavy leather jackets to find her smaller fitted ones. Maybe what came next could have been avoided if Chris had learned to pay a bit more attention.
It was his grandmother's engagement ring. It was cheap-looking and unimpressive compared to the jewellery Rihanna was used to sporting on red carpets, but it was more beautiful than anything she'd ever owned. The white gold band had lost its shine and the single round cut diamond was dulled and had a yellow tinge. It was possible to restore it to its former glory, but Rihanna knew Chris would give it to her as it was. Its flaws alluded to the history of his family, a family he wanted her to be a part of.
She understood why he'd chosen to ask now. She had accepted his other proposal.
)(
To pass the hour and a half before boarding, Rihanna spent her time shopping. She might have been rich, but she still liked buying duty-free items. Her mother liked the perfumes and travel bags and her extended family appreciated the chocolates and liquor.
She was deciding between bottles of Stoli and pretending not to notice the clerk and other customers staring at her, when the current Christmas song faded out, blending in with the opening chords of "Kissing Santa Claus", her latest single, the one she'd recorded with Chris. Rihanna cursed under her breath.
She'd said no when Chris first proposed the duet. A song about a girl kissing her boyfriend dressed up as Santa Claus was as good a confirmation of their relationship as an admission in an interview. And there was the fact that a video was part of the deal. Rihanna knew it would require her to wear a skimpy nightgown and kiss Chris under a mistletoe. There were tons of photographs of them together, but none of them showed them kissing, none of them captured the truth of their relationship. They could still say they were close friends, and hint at a possible sexual component of their relationship.
Chris begged, pleaded, and Rihanna knew soon enough there would be threats. For some reason, this was important to him. Rihanna had more than an inclination as to why, but refused to admit it to herself. She agreed because she knew if she didn't it wouldn't be long before Chris sat her down and started the "I don't think this is working" conversation.
The single created a buzz, the video was in the top five on various countdowns, and the number of paparazzi stalking them doubled. They could no longer be placated with a few shots that were staged to look candid. They were all lying in wait, trying to get that that damning photo that would make them admit they were more than friends.
"Maybe we should just come out with it," Chris said. The Christmas tree was up and had been trimmed. All that was left to do was put on the ornaments. Rihanna had always wanted to make a popcorn garland and was in the middle of stringing a lengthy one.
"Why would we do that?" Rihanna stabbed the needle through the popcorn kernel forcefully.
"I just think it's time. We're not fooling anybody, and I think everyone would leave us alone after a while. We could just live, you know?"
Rihanna raised her brow. Chris could be such a dumbass sometimes.
"No."
"But-"
"Chris, no, alright," she cried, throwing down the garland. She didn't know why they had even gotten a tree. They wouldn't be here for Christmas. Chris would be Tappahannock and she'd be in Barbados.
"I think you should think about this," Chris said quietly. This was her second warning.
Rihanna nodded, picking up the garland. "I'll let you know after Christmas."
Chris had beamed and went back to unravelling a box of Christmas lights. He knew her well enough to know that anything other than an explicit no was an agreement.
)(
They weren’t Jay-Z and Beyoncé, although some liked to draw parallels. Rihanna's career hadn't been built on curves and high notes, but rumours of fucking Jay-Z and dance hits. Tabloids allowed Beyoncé to keep tight-lipped about her marriage because it wasn't what had drawn everyone to her the first place. Without the rumours and speculation, Rihanna would've been, at best, a two album wonder, waiting for VH1 to contact her about a stint on one of their reality shows. She wasn't stupid enough to believe otherwise.
She wasn't afraid her career would take a sudden downturn if they came clean. If anything, it would mean more publicity. It was what would come after that worried Rihanna. Cosmo would want details of their relationship, People would want to know what they did in their spare time, Seventeen would want her to tell all the young girls Chris was exactly the type of boyfriend every girl should have. Rihanna didn't want to tell anyone anything.
It was true the ruse of not being in a relationship was a publicity stunt, but it also kept them safe. People were so busy trying to prove they were together they didn't bother digging deeper.
Rihanna might not have wanted to tell the world about her relationship with Chris, but if she had to she would. She wasn't Beyoncé, after all.
)(
Rihanna didn't call until ten minutes before boarding.
"Miss me already?" Chris asked, laughing. The TV was loud in the background. Chris turned it down.
"I guess," she replied. "Look, there's something you need to know. I'm not coming back."
"What do you mean?" He was likely furrowing his brows. He always did that when he was confused.
"I'm not coming back," Rihanna repeated. "I mean, I'm coming back to LA, just not to you." Every word was a blow she tried to soften by speaking faintly.
Chris started to ask a question then fell silent. Rihanna wondered what he was feeling. Anger, sadness, disappointment, a combination of all three? She'd never suffered heartbreak before. Rihanna wondered what it felt like.
She became nervous and started to play with a loose thread on her scarf when Chris remained silent.
"Look, I'm not doing this because I don't love you," Rihanna stuttered, pulling at the thread. "I just can't do what you want me to. It would be a bad idea to go public. They'd want to know things about us. Can you imagine what it would be like if we got married." She stopped for a moment when Chris drew in a sharp breath, then went on. "It would be like there was a third party in our marriage, always there watching us. Whenever we did something we'd always think about what other people would think when they heard about it. We'd do things just because it would sound good in a quote or would make news on one of those entertainment news shows."
Rihanna had pulled at the thread so hard, the seam had started to unravel. "I love you," she said, "but they're not supposed to have everything, only the parts we can throw away."
She wasn't crying, but her voice wavered in such a way that Chris might think she was. She couldn't cry, not when so many people were watching, not when they were trying to conceal their camera phones and trying to think up ways to ask her for autograph without seeming rude. She'd save the breakdown for after she landed.
"Chris, please-"
"You're a fucking selfish bitch, you know that," he interrupted, startling a gasp out of her.
Rihanna was about to reply when her phone beeped, alerting her to the end of the call. Chris had hung up on her.
She could've called him back, but what would she have said? After all, he wasn't wrong.
End
Fandom: Music
Pairing: Rihanna/Chris Brown
Rating: G
Word Count: 1369
Summary: "Maybe what came next could have been avoided if Chris had learned to pay a bit more attention."
Note: written for blackmamba_esq and tokenblkgirl; title taken from "Have Yourself a Merry Christmas"
Our Troubles Will Be Miles Away
Rihanna knew about the ring. She'd found it in the back of Chris' closet during a search for her favourite wool jacket. Chris was a little absentminded when it came to housework, and often put their clothes together. She'd found this endearing when they first started living together, but after the honeymoon period she started to find it a little grating. The last thing she wanted to do was go through Chris' numerous heavy leather jackets to find her smaller fitted ones. Maybe what came next could have been avoided if Chris had learned to pay a bit more attention.
It was his grandmother's engagement ring. It was cheap-looking and unimpressive compared to the jewellery Rihanna was used to sporting on red carpets, but it was more beautiful than anything she'd ever owned. The white gold band had lost its shine and the single round cut diamond was dulled and had a yellow tinge. It was possible to restore it to its former glory, but Rihanna knew Chris would give it to her as it was. Its flaws alluded to the history of his family, a family he wanted her to be a part of.
She understood why he'd chosen to ask now. She had accepted his other proposal.
)(
To pass the hour and a half before boarding, Rihanna spent her time shopping. She might have been rich, but she still liked buying duty-free items. Her mother liked the perfumes and travel bags and her extended family appreciated the chocolates and liquor.
She was deciding between bottles of Stoli and pretending not to notice the clerk and other customers staring at her, when the current Christmas song faded out, blending in with the opening chords of "Kissing Santa Claus", her latest single, the one she'd recorded with Chris. Rihanna cursed under her breath.
She'd said no when Chris first proposed the duet. A song about a girl kissing her boyfriend dressed up as Santa Claus was as good a confirmation of their relationship as an admission in an interview. And there was the fact that a video was part of the deal. Rihanna knew it would require her to wear a skimpy nightgown and kiss Chris under a mistletoe. There were tons of photographs of them together, but none of them showed them kissing, none of them captured the truth of their relationship. They could still say they were close friends, and hint at a possible sexual component of their relationship.
Chris begged, pleaded, and Rihanna knew soon enough there would be threats. For some reason, this was important to him. Rihanna had more than an inclination as to why, but refused to admit it to herself. She agreed because she knew if she didn't it wouldn't be long before Chris sat her down and started the "I don't think this is working" conversation.
The single created a buzz, the video was in the top five on various countdowns, and the number of paparazzi stalking them doubled. They could no longer be placated with a few shots that were staged to look candid. They were all lying in wait, trying to get that that damning photo that would make them admit they were more than friends.
"Maybe we should just come out with it," Chris said. The Christmas tree was up and had been trimmed. All that was left to do was put on the ornaments. Rihanna had always wanted to make a popcorn garland and was in the middle of stringing a lengthy one.
"Why would we do that?" Rihanna stabbed the needle through the popcorn kernel forcefully.
"I just think it's time. We're not fooling anybody, and I think everyone would leave us alone after a while. We could just live, you know?"
Rihanna raised her brow. Chris could be such a dumbass sometimes.
"No."
"But-"
"Chris, no, alright," she cried, throwing down the garland. She didn't know why they had even gotten a tree. They wouldn't be here for Christmas. Chris would be Tappahannock and she'd be in Barbados.
"I think you should think about this," Chris said quietly. This was her second warning.
Rihanna nodded, picking up the garland. "I'll let you know after Christmas."
Chris had beamed and went back to unravelling a box of Christmas lights. He knew her well enough to know that anything other than an explicit no was an agreement.
)(
They weren’t Jay-Z and Beyoncé, although some liked to draw parallels. Rihanna's career hadn't been built on curves and high notes, but rumours of fucking Jay-Z and dance hits. Tabloids allowed Beyoncé to keep tight-lipped about her marriage because it wasn't what had drawn everyone to her the first place. Without the rumours and speculation, Rihanna would've been, at best, a two album wonder, waiting for VH1 to contact her about a stint on one of their reality shows. She wasn't stupid enough to believe otherwise.
She wasn't afraid her career would take a sudden downturn if they came clean. If anything, it would mean more publicity. It was what would come after that worried Rihanna. Cosmo would want details of their relationship, People would want to know what they did in their spare time, Seventeen would want her to tell all the young girls Chris was exactly the type of boyfriend every girl should have. Rihanna didn't want to tell anyone anything.
It was true the ruse of not being in a relationship was a publicity stunt, but it also kept them safe. People were so busy trying to prove they were together they didn't bother digging deeper.
Rihanna might not have wanted to tell the world about her relationship with Chris, but if she had to she would. She wasn't Beyoncé, after all.
)(
Rihanna didn't call until ten minutes before boarding.
"Miss me already?" Chris asked, laughing. The TV was loud in the background. Chris turned it down.
"I guess," she replied. "Look, there's something you need to know. I'm not coming back."
"What do you mean?" He was likely furrowing his brows. He always did that when he was confused.
"I'm not coming back," Rihanna repeated. "I mean, I'm coming back to LA, just not to you." Every word was a blow she tried to soften by speaking faintly.
Chris started to ask a question then fell silent. Rihanna wondered what he was feeling. Anger, sadness, disappointment, a combination of all three? She'd never suffered heartbreak before. Rihanna wondered what it felt like.
She became nervous and started to play with a loose thread on her scarf when Chris remained silent.
"Look, I'm not doing this because I don't love you," Rihanna stuttered, pulling at the thread. "I just can't do what you want me to. It would be a bad idea to go public. They'd want to know things about us. Can you imagine what it would be like if we got married." She stopped for a moment when Chris drew in a sharp breath, then went on. "It would be like there was a third party in our marriage, always there watching us. Whenever we did something we'd always think about what other people would think when they heard about it. We'd do things just because it would sound good in a quote or would make news on one of those entertainment news shows."
Rihanna had pulled at the thread so hard, the seam had started to unravel. "I love you," she said, "but they're not supposed to have everything, only the parts we can throw away."
She wasn't crying, but her voice wavered in such a way that Chris might think she was. She couldn't cry, not when so many people were watching, not when they were trying to conceal their camera phones and trying to think up ways to ask her for autograph without seeming rude. She'd save the breakdown for after she landed.
"Chris, please-"
"You're a fucking selfish bitch, you know that," he interrupted, startling a gasp out of her.
Rihanna was about to reply when her phone beeped, alerting her to the end of the call. Chris had hung up on her.
She could've called him back, but what would she have said? After all, he wasn't wrong.
End