Fic-move: Soon The Snow Will Stay
Aaaaand - the last one, then I shall not be bothering you lovely people any more tonight :D
This was the "sad fic" - don't read it if you are not in the mood for some depressing stuff...
Title: Soon The Snow Will Stay
Author: Mette, aka
snowisgreat
Rating: Sad, sad but no swearing and no sex
Pairing: Vam all the way
Disclaimer: Blah blah - you know the drill
Summary: Ville is desperately waiting for a change of weather
POV: Ville
A/N: This one has caused me much grief so I've had two people read it thru to help me improve and clarify.
swampwitch9666 and
siakahleah - thank you both for asking questions and making me think :D
What Bam says.
What Ville thinks.
Just to avoid any confusion :)
****************************
Outside I can hear the rain dripping on the windowsill. Weird, it’s still raining. They said in the news it would start snowing tonight. I prefer the snow. Watching those little pristine flakes of frozen water falling down calmly, in no particular hurry and without a worry in the world, calms my mind. When it falls down and covers everything that allows those little flecks to stick, hiding all the ugliness, suppressing the smells. Being in the countryside in the winter with snow all over - there are no smells. Apart from my smoke; of course.
It actually snowed not long ago, gave a nice first layer for the season, but that soon disappeared. The weather is still too unstable for it to stay until spring. I’m longing for the cold to really kick in. That way no one will cast me funny looks when I walk down the street all covered in my coat, beanie, gloves, scarf. Normally I don’t care, I draw attention and I don’t mind one bit. But at the moment I prefer not having people look at me, it’s too painful, as if they can see everything I’m trying so damn hard to hide. I wish I could cover my eyes too, it hurts to look people in the eyes and I feel like a fool when I’m trying to avoid eye contact. My eyes are one of my assets; I’m not used to hiding them but I have to command them to look up now. They don’t seem to take my orders anymore.
That’s also why I told the guys that I needed a break and I would still be working on stuff, but on my own. I know it’ll be too easy for them to spot it, to see what’s up and I just can’t face it. Of course I know I’m gonna have to. Soon, probably. They have started dropping by and calling me on my mobile every day now, asking where I am, what I’m doing, when I’m coming to the studio again. And every day I keep making up new excuses for why I need more time alone. It’s slowly killing me, all this lying and hiding, but right now it’s the better alternative. For the time being I need my world to be as small as possible even if it means shutting out the people who care the most about me. I’m sure I’d break down if I had to face them right now. Knowing that they can handle it doesn’t help; I can’t handle it.
I still can’t believe it. I keep going over the events in my mind, many times a day, trying to see where it went wrong, what I could have done to prevent it. And every day I find nothing.
He seemed so happy to see me when we flew into NY for the last leg of the US tour. He had even told the crew to stay at home and arranged alternative rides for the rest of the band because he wanted me all to himself on the ride down to the castle, knowing that so many others would be asking for my attention once we got there. Still the only times during those three weeks that we were not together were when I was on stage but I always knew he was there somewhere, watching me perform. It all just felt so good. I was so happy. I had no clue.
The last concert went perfectly; everything just seemed to come together in unity. The crowd was crazy, the instruments were working, the sound was great, we were all happy and I felt like playing and singing until the world stopped.
However, the world didn’t stop until after we had played the last song and were back at the hotel for a shower before hitting the nearest pub. He did look a little anxious on the drive there but I thought little about it and I asked no questions. I’ve known him long enough to know he doesn’t tell until he wants to, no point in pressing it.
I knew something was wrong when he didn’t come to the shower with me, because he said that’s the best part of touring with us - washing the sweat off of me afterwards. Still, I didn’t press it; he would tell me in good time what was bothering him.
I was almost done in the shower when he came into the bathroom; I didn’t notice him being there until he started speaking. Unfortunately, my ears picked up all too well what he said in spite of his whisper and they were the saddest words ever to be heard:
I need to leave you.
No…
I kept the water running, pretending I didn’t hear him, but we both knew I heard it just fine. I just stood in the shower, glad he sat so I couldn’t see him.
I don’t think I can ever explain to you why I’m doing this, I hardly know it myself. The time I have spent with you have been the best kick-ass moments of my life, and the times apart have been pure hell.
For a long time I thought I could cope. I’m Bam Margera for fuck’s sake! I heard a movement and knew he had just titled his head back and pulled his, my, beanie down to cover his eyes, like he would do when he was frustrated.
Being with you these last weeks has just made me see all too clearly what it is I’m doing, and… and I need to stop it.
I tried so desperately to concentrate on the sound of the running water, closing out all other sounds, especially my lover's voice but I wasn't very successful. I listened to all he had to say and yet I couldn't get any words over my lips. All my answers stayed in my head and I wished we had been masters of telepathy.
Ville, I’m only fully alive when you’re with me, and that’s not how life should be. We both know we can’t be together permanently, our lives are on two different continents and none of us can just up and leave. I need my life to be good here, because… because this is where I am. I could hear the hopelessness in his voice.
Man, you should see me when you’re gone, I’m a mess! It’s a wonder to me how I’m even getting through the filming without breaking down. In the beginning skating comforts me, but when I start missing you too much, just looking at the heartagram on my board is enough to make me wanna cry. I know the others think I’m crazy because I start only skating at night when no one else will see me… His voice was trailing off and I heard him sniff.
Oh my god, why have you never told me this before? You have always sounded so happy when we talked on the phone. Of course I knew you missed me, I missed you horribly as well, but I somehow found a way to channel my pain into the music. How I wish you had found a channel too.
I couldn’t tell you this any sooner, because I wanted to have as much time with you as possible and I don’t hope you’ll hate me for that, I know I’m a selfish brat, but hey, that’s me, right?
Yeah, but I want you to be my selfish brat. And I could never hate you... I pictured him sitting there on the loo, shrugging his shoulders and smiling a half-smile.
I’m gonna go now, Ville.
Oh no, please don’t say that!
Not because I want to but because I need to. I need to get my life back. It will be hell in its purest form for a very long time before I can look at your posters, see the heartagram on my car or my boards or hear one of your songs in the jukebox without cracking .Or wearing that half of my clothes that says HIM… I heard him sigh.
Man, I have no idea how I’m gonna explain this to the others, they all think we’re so good.
So do I darling, so do I.
Just promise me one thing now Ville, please? Will you promise me you prove them all wrong? Prove to all those fuckers that you’re great, that you’re not here because of me, okay? Let them see you in all your glory…
You leave me and ask me to show my glory? Don’t be evil. I felt the sad remnants of my defence crumbling.
I know you’re pretending you don’t hear me, and that’s okay, I get it, I would do the same. Just hear me say that I love you and that that will never change.
I could hear him move, and then out of the corner of my eye I saw him standing before the glass door to the shower. He put his one hand on it and kissed the glass. It was all I could muster to turn, put my hand up against his and press my lips to the other side of the glass, keeping my eyes tightly shut to avoid the sight of his lovely face. Then he pulled away and left me.
I slipped to the bottom of the shower and stayed huddled up down there for a very long time, letting the water wash away my tears until I had none left. After that I skillfully put my makeup on again and got dressed to go meet the others. Of course they asked where he was when I showed up, alone. I told them he had gotten a phone call and needed to go home, some kind of emergency but that it was okay since we were leaving early the next morning anyway. Then I spent the rest of the night drinking my brains out, barely able to walk in a straight line when we boarded the flight 8 hours later. They probably only let me get on the plane because I’m famous.
We have been back in Helsinki for a little more than one month. During this time my only visits outside have been to get smokes and beer once a day. If I didn’t have these addictions I’m sure I would have stayed inside the whole time; that would be much easier. I know Linde and Mige have been by many times, I have heard them at the door. Every time I have pretended not to be home, telling new lies about where I was when they call afterwards. A couple of weeks ago Burton and Gas started coming by too. Almost seems they have made some sort of rota. One of them will stop by every few hours; knock on the door and call my name for several minutes, then leave. I know that they know. When we had been home for a week I talked to Linde on the phone and he said he had talked to Bam… Once again I pretended there was nothing wrong, even though just hearing his name made me shiver and feel like crying. I love them for not trying to make me talk. Hopefully, in a not too distant future, I will be able to; they are my closest friends and they really don’t deserve being treated like this but I can’t help it right now.
I haven’t spoken to him all this time. I know he can’t call me. And I so desperately want to call him just to hear his voice for the briefest of moments, instead of hearing it addressing no one in particular on the DVD’s I’m torturing myself by watching, day in, day out, flushed down with cigarettes and alcohol. Seeing him there, all happy and himself makes me wanna cry and yet it doesn’t happen. At one point I considered if I was even capable of feeling anything, or if maybe I had gone numb. Just as a test I held the end of my lit smoke to my arm and it hurt. I can still feel; I’m not past redemption. But I know I can’t do it, I can’t call him. I can’t do it to him.
The silence catches my attention. There are no more drops landing on my windowsill. I get up, move over to the window and open the curtains enough to look out. What a lovely sight. The rain has turned into snow, falling from a heaven far, far above. It’s coming down quite heavily; as if all those little flakes are having a race to see who can get to the ground first. I open the door to the balcony and stick out my arm. I watch as one flake after the other lands on my skin, stays there a while and then melts and falls off like drops of water. I imagine they are all the tears I have not been able to shed since that night in the shower and it’s comforting.
After some time it gets too cold and I pull my arm in again, drying off the water. I open the curtains completely, pull an armchair over in front of the glass door, get my cigarettes and a six-pack, turn off all the lights in the flat and sit down. And I watch the snow falling, slowly covering the ground and hiding all the ugliness. It’s soothing. This time I’m certain it will stay. I need it to stay. Until the snow stays I know I will not be able to get out of this state of comatose and I need to leave it. I hope and pray that my love is doing better than me.
I put my forehead in the cup of my hands and sit there for a while. I don’t become conscious of my tears until enough of those salty drops have run from my eyes down my nose and landed on the smoke dangling from my lips, making it hiss when the fire reaches the soaked tobacco.
I reach over to grab my mobile and dial a familiar number.
“Migé?”
This was the "sad fic" - don't read it if you are not in the mood for some depressing stuff...
Title: Soon The Snow Will Stay
Author: Mette, aka
snowisgreat
Rating: Sad, sad but no swearing and no sex
Pairing: Vam all the way
Disclaimer: Blah blah - you know the drill
Summary: Ville is desperately waiting for a change of weather
POV: Ville
A/N: This one has caused me much grief so I've had two people read it thru to help me improve and clarify.
swampwitch9666 and
siakahleah - thank you both for asking questions and making me think :D
What Bam says.
What Ville thinks.
Just to avoid any confusion :)
****************************
Outside I can hear the rain dripping on the windowsill. Weird, it’s still raining. They said in the news it would start snowing tonight. I prefer the snow. Watching those little pristine flakes of frozen water falling down calmly, in no particular hurry and without a worry in the world, calms my mind. When it falls down and covers everything that allows those little flecks to stick, hiding all the ugliness, suppressing the smells. Being in the countryside in the winter with snow all over - there are no smells. Apart from my smoke; of course.
It actually snowed not long ago, gave a nice first layer for the season, but that soon disappeared. The weather is still too unstable for it to stay until spring. I’m longing for the cold to really kick in. That way no one will cast me funny looks when I walk down the street all covered in my coat, beanie, gloves, scarf. Normally I don’t care, I draw attention and I don’t mind one bit. But at the moment I prefer not having people look at me, it’s too painful, as if they can see everything I’m trying so damn hard to hide. I wish I could cover my eyes too, it hurts to look people in the eyes and I feel like a fool when I’m trying to avoid eye contact. My eyes are one of my assets; I’m not used to hiding them but I have to command them to look up now. They don’t seem to take my orders anymore.
That’s also why I told the guys that I needed a break and I would still be working on stuff, but on my own. I know it’ll be too easy for them to spot it, to see what’s up and I just can’t face it. Of course I know I’m gonna have to. Soon, probably. They have started dropping by and calling me on my mobile every day now, asking where I am, what I’m doing, when I’m coming to the studio again. And every day I keep making up new excuses for why I need more time alone. It’s slowly killing me, all this lying and hiding, but right now it’s the better alternative. For the time being I need my world to be as small as possible even if it means shutting out the people who care the most about me. I’m sure I’d break down if I had to face them right now. Knowing that they can handle it doesn’t help; I can’t handle it.
I still can’t believe it. I keep going over the events in my mind, many times a day, trying to see where it went wrong, what I could have done to prevent it. And every day I find nothing.
He seemed so happy to see me when we flew into NY for the last leg of the US tour. He had even told the crew to stay at home and arranged alternative rides for the rest of the band because he wanted me all to himself on the ride down to the castle, knowing that so many others would be asking for my attention once we got there. Still the only times during those three weeks that we were not together were when I was on stage but I always knew he was there somewhere, watching me perform. It all just felt so good. I was so happy. I had no clue.
The last concert went perfectly; everything just seemed to come together in unity. The crowd was crazy, the instruments were working, the sound was great, we were all happy and I felt like playing and singing until the world stopped.
However, the world didn’t stop until after we had played the last song and were back at the hotel for a shower before hitting the nearest pub. He did look a little anxious on the drive there but I thought little about it and I asked no questions. I’ve known him long enough to know he doesn’t tell until he wants to, no point in pressing it.
I knew something was wrong when he didn’t come to the shower with me, because he said that’s the best part of touring with us - washing the sweat off of me afterwards. Still, I didn’t press it; he would tell me in good time what was bothering him.
I was almost done in the shower when he came into the bathroom; I didn’t notice him being there until he started speaking. Unfortunately, my ears picked up all too well what he said in spite of his whisper and they were the saddest words ever to be heard:
I need to leave you.
No…
I kept the water running, pretending I didn’t hear him, but we both knew I heard it just fine. I just stood in the shower, glad he sat so I couldn’t see him.
I don’t think I can ever explain to you why I’m doing this, I hardly know it myself. The time I have spent with you have been the best kick-ass moments of my life, and the times apart have been pure hell.
For a long time I thought I could cope. I’m Bam Margera for fuck’s sake! I heard a movement and knew he had just titled his head back and pulled his, my, beanie down to cover his eyes, like he would do when he was frustrated.
Being with you these last weeks has just made me see all too clearly what it is I’m doing, and… and I need to stop it.
I tried so desperately to concentrate on the sound of the running water, closing out all other sounds, especially my lover's voice but I wasn't very successful. I listened to all he had to say and yet I couldn't get any words over my lips. All my answers stayed in my head and I wished we had been masters of telepathy.
Ville, I’m only fully alive when you’re with me, and that’s not how life should be. We both know we can’t be together permanently, our lives are on two different continents and none of us can just up and leave. I need my life to be good here, because… because this is where I am. I could hear the hopelessness in his voice.
Man, you should see me when you’re gone, I’m a mess! It’s a wonder to me how I’m even getting through the filming without breaking down. In the beginning skating comforts me, but when I start missing you too much, just looking at the heartagram on my board is enough to make me wanna cry. I know the others think I’m crazy because I start only skating at night when no one else will see me… His voice was trailing off and I heard him sniff.
Oh my god, why have you never told me this before? You have always sounded so happy when we talked on the phone. Of course I knew you missed me, I missed you horribly as well, but I somehow found a way to channel my pain into the music. How I wish you had found a channel too.
I couldn’t tell you this any sooner, because I wanted to have as much time with you as possible and I don’t hope you’ll hate me for that, I know I’m a selfish brat, but hey, that’s me, right?
Yeah, but I want you to be my selfish brat. And I could never hate you... I pictured him sitting there on the loo, shrugging his shoulders and smiling a half-smile.
I’m gonna go now, Ville.
Oh no, please don’t say that!
Not because I want to but because I need to. I need to get my life back. It will be hell in its purest form for a very long time before I can look at your posters, see the heartagram on my car or my boards or hear one of your songs in the jukebox without cracking .Or wearing that half of my clothes that says HIM… I heard him sigh.
Man, I have no idea how I’m gonna explain this to the others, they all think we’re so good.
So do I darling, so do I.
Just promise me one thing now Ville, please? Will you promise me you prove them all wrong? Prove to all those fuckers that you’re great, that you’re not here because of me, okay? Let them see you in all your glory…
You leave me and ask me to show my glory? Don’t be evil. I felt the sad remnants of my defence crumbling.
I know you’re pretending you don’t hear me, and that’s okay, I get it, I would do the same. Just hear me say that I love you and that that will never change.
I could hear him move, and then out of the corner of my eye I saw him standing before the glass door to the shower. He put his one hand on it and kissed the glass. It was all I could muster to turn, put my hand up against his and press my lips to the other side of the glass, keeping my eyes tightly shut to avoid the sight of his lovely face. Then he pulled away and left me.
I slipped to the bottom of the shower and stayed huddled up down there for a very long time, letting the water wash away my tears until I had none left. After that I skillfully put my makeup on again and got dressed to go meet the others. Of course they asked where he was when I showed up, alone. I told them he had gotten a phone call and needed to go home, some kind of emergency but that it was okay since we were leaving early the next morning anyway. Then I spent the rest of the night drinking my brains out, barely able to walk in a straight line when we boarded the flight 8 hours later. They probably only let me get on the plane because I’m famous.
We have been back in Helsinki for a little more than one month. During this time my only visits outside have been to get smokes and beer once a day. If I didn’t have these addictions I’m sure I would have stayed inside the whole time; that would be much easier. I know Linde and Mige have been by many times, I have heard them at the door. Every time I have pretended not to be home, telling new lies about where I was when they call afterwards. A couple of weeks ago Burton and Gas started coming by too. Almost seems they have made some sort of rota. One of them will stop by every few hours; knock on the door and call my name for several minutes, then leave. I know that they know. When we had been home for a week I talked to Linde on the phone and he said he had talked to Bam… Once again I pretended there was nothing wrong, even though just hearing his name made me shiver and feel like crying. I love them for not trying to make me talk. Hopefully, in a not too distant future, I will be able to; they are my closest friends and they really don’t deserve being treated like this but I can’t help it right now.
I haven’t spoken to him all this time. I know he can’t call me. And I so desperately want to call him just to hear his voice for the briefest of moments, instead of hearing it addressing no one in particular on the DVD’s I’m torturing myself by watching, day in, day out, flushed down with cigarettes and alcohol. Seeing him there, all happy and himself makes me wanna cry and yet it doesn’t happen. At one point I considered if I was even capable of feeling anything, or if maybe I had gone numb. Just as a test I held the end of my lit smoke to my arm and it hurt. I can still feel; I’m not past redemption. But I know I can’t do it, I can’t call him. I can’t do it to him.
The silence catches my attention. There are no more drops landing on my windowsill. I get up, move over to the window and open the curtains enough to look out. What a lovely sight. The rain has turned into snow, falling from a heaven far, far above. It’s coming down quite heavily; as if all those little flakes are having a race to see who can get to the ground first. I open the door to the balcony and stick out my arm. I watch as one flake after the other lands on my skin, stays there a while and then melts and falls off like drops of water. I imagine they are all the tears I have not been able to shed since that night in the shower and it’s comforting.
After some time it gets too cold and I pull my arm in again, drying off the water. I open the curtains completely, pull an armchair over in front of the glass door, get my cigarettes and a six-pack, turn off all the lights in the flat and sit down. And I watch the snow falling, slowly covering the ground and hiding all the ugliness. It’s soothing. This time I’m certain it will stay. I need it to stay. Until the snow stays I know I will not be able to get out of this state of comatose and I need to leave it. I hope and pray that my love is doing better than me.
I put my forehead in the cup of my hands and sit there for a while. I don’t become conscious of my tears until enough of those salty drops have run from my eyes down my nose and landed on the smoke dangling from my lips, making it hiss when the fire reaches the soaked tobacco.
I reach over to grab my mobile and dial a familiar number.
“Migé?”