SQUEEE!! I LOVE IT LAUREN!!!:D:D:D:D

Its soooo good!:dance::heart: I absolutely love it!! :D

And I love the new picture you have for it

 

Woah ... Lauren!!!

This is soooo good and comforting!!

You have to deliver part 4 immediately!! :)

 

*jumps up and down with excitement*

 

woah, LAUREN!!!

 

part 3 is like, every dream i've ever had!!

 

haha, i love it!! more more more!!! :D:D

 

that was funny :D

Great job!!!

 

I want mooooore!:p

Come on Lauren, start writing already! (But take your time..:P But not too much time:D)

 

I agree! I agree!

 

I WANT MORRREEEE.

 

lauren, i loooove it:heart:

out of all the coldplay fanfiction ive read, this and "the lift" have been some of my favorites(:

 

 

Thank you all soooo much. It's nice to write something and then see that people like it :heart:

I'm working on part 4 tonight. So I might have it ready for tomorrow.

YAYYYY!!:D:dance:

Oh my! Am I the only one who wrote a semi-depressing story with no romance and not much humor? :o

Oh my! Am I the only one who wrote a semi-depressing story with no romance and not much humor? :o

I loved yours!!:D

Personally, I imagined Chris running into the room and screaming, "Jonny, catch!" as he randomly tossed the kitty across the room. :D

 

Here's Chapter 4 of Coldfellas, in which we learn the REAL truth about Viva La Vida! :laugh3:

 

COLDFELLAS

 

CHAPTER 4: MURDER

Rating: PG-13

 

 

 

Chris, Will, Phil, and the rest of the gang from Politik, Inc. continue their discussion of their plot to kill a certain “traitor”, per se, while keeping wary of a rumored rival mafia in town.

 

Phil: “I trust you are all familiar with our target – a simple fellow named…Joe Satriani.”

 

Chris: *gasp* “Just hearing his name makes babies’ heads explode!”

 

Phil: “As a refresher for how Mr. Satriani betrayed our trust, it all started a few years ago. I was in the private jet with the members of Coldplay when we decided to pop in this random CD that I found in the dumpster the day before. A CD by one Joe Satriani.”

 

Matthew: “Ahh! The mention of his name makes me cower in the darkness!”

 

Phil: “So we continued listening, and eventually, it began playing a song entitled ‘If I Could Fly’. It was horrible. I mean, it was really, really horrible. It made Ode to Deodorant seem like a Bitter Sweet Symphony. And yet…we felt great pity for this poor, talentless hack named Joe.”

 

Will: “Poor, poor Joe.”

 

Phil: “Feeling like he should be appreciated for once in his truly pathetic life, we decided to take his song and make it…well…not suck. We renamed it ‘Viva La Vida’ and it instantly became our biggest hit ever. Naturally, one would think that Joe would be grateful that his song was turned into something beautiful and popular.”

 

Chris: “We did him a favor, that unthankful bastard. We made people actually want to listen to his song.”

 

Phil: “That we did, and Joe Satriani’s asinine claims from that point forward are a clear mark of betrayal. Likewise, he must be killed by any means necessary, lest our secret mob be exposed.”

 

Thom: “Let me at him! I’ll cut him up with my rusty bayonet! If I don’t kill someone, I might be forced to return to Radiohead, and that means I’ve got to express my rage through words!”

 

Will: “Calm down, Thom. Yes, we want his death to be totally brutal. But we should all share in the bloodbath, so let’s each reserve a body part. I call the right arm!”

 

Phil: “That won’t be necessary, Will. For we only require one assassin for this mission. Chris, are you in the mood for a good whacking?”

 

Chris: “Me? You want me to be a cold-blooded killer? Are you at least gonna make Will dress extravagantly?”

 

Will: *ignoring Chris* “Come on, Don Phil, can’t the rest of us have some fun?”

 

Phil: “Oh, certainly. That is why the rest of us will remain nearby at all times for backup support, to radio Chris information, and to set booby traps. Members of Politik, Inc., the hunt is on.”

 

Daytime comes and passes. The boys are taking a break from rehearsals after a lengthy few weeks, but in reality, that break involves planning something far more sinister. For Chris and Will, it involves devising the most devious mafia killing ever deviated.

 

Night falls. At a local high school, Joe Satriani has spent the last hour boring students to death with a dreadful speech about how you don’t have to have any talent whatsoever to be considered an industry big-shot. Across the street, Phil and the others are spying on the exit with binoculars behind a shrub.

 

Phil: “I see him! I see the doors opening! Quick, Will! Track his steps toward his car!”

 

Will: “I’m on it!”

 

Chris: “I still think Will would look a lot less suspicious if he let me mess around with his wardrobe.”

 

Phil: “This is no time for your gay fantasies, Chris. We all know you’re just compensating for your loss of that…other person.”

 

Chris: “That’s nonsense, Don Phil. I’m perfectly fine being married to a woman!”

 

Phil: “Whatever. Once Will declares the area clear, you are to follow him quickly. The rest of us will be close by if you need additional support.”

 

Brandon: “According to my GPS, Mr. Satriani is within two blocks of the nearest parking lot. Get moving!”

 

Will swiftly crosses the street, peeks over a brick wall, and signals for Chris to dash over. Joe Satriani walks into the parking lot while Chris and Will follow silently. Suddenly, he opens a car door.

 

Chris: “So we meet at last, Mr. Satriani.”

 

Joe: *startled* “Chris…Martin? Of Coldplay? I assume you’ve met my legal advisers?”

 

Chris: “Oh, we met them, all right. And you’re about to suffer the exact same fate that they did.”

 

Joe: “You’re bluffing. You and the rest of your band are too soft and wimpy to do anything rash.”

 

Suddenly, Chris pulls a 15-inch knife with a rusty tip from his belt. Joe, suddenly realizing his situation, swiftly opens his car and begins jumping in.

 

Will: *via radio* “He’s gonna drive off, Phil. Be prepared to surround.”

 

Phil: “Way ahead of you.”

 

Just as Joe is about to put his keys into the ignition, he is suddenly surrounded by six men on all sides.

 

Chris: “Game over, Joe.”

 

Joe: “Oh yeah? What’s to prevent me from simply running you cads over?”

 

As Joe tries to fire up his car, the engine suddenly fails.

 

Joe: “Fucking hybrids!”

 

Brandon Flowers emerges from underneath Joe’s car with the engine in hand. Joe looks at the men through his windows blank-eyed, staring death in the face. As one final desperate attempt, he tries fleeing through the back window and busts it open.

 

Phil: “Don’t let him escape, men! Chris, give your most ferocious homicidal pursuit!”

 

Chris begins a mad dash through the parking lot, flailing his knife in the air.

 

Chris: “THIS…IS…FOR…”

 

Suddenly, Joe stops cold in his tracks. Chris hesitates, only to watch him slowly collapse to the ground. But Chris had not even scratched him yet. Blood begins oozing from Joe’s chest, glistening off what appears to be another knife driven into his heart.

 

Chris: “But…but…how…who…”

 

The rest of the mob catches up to Chris.

 

Phil: “Atta boy, Chris. Let this be a lesson to anyone who tries to mess with Coldplay.”

 

Chris: “That’s not my knife, Phil.”

 

Phil: “Indeed, that’s exactly what we’ll be telling the police.”

 

Chris: “No, Phil. I mean that’s really not my knife.”

 

Phil: “What do you mean?”

 

Another shadowed figure emerges from behind the body. The first features apparent are the white eyes staring shockingly at Chris.

 

Will: “No…freaking....way…”

 

Chris: “JONNY BUCKLAND!?!?”

 

Jonny: “What the hell are you doing here, Chris?”

 

The mob members of Green Eyes, Inc. appear on the scene behind Jonny.

 

Chris: “Jonny…I…I don’t understand....”

 

Gwyneth: “What’s going on, Mr. Buckland? Did you kill that traitor?”

 

Jonny: *still breathless* “Yes…my Don.”

 

Gwyneth finally eyes Chris, with a look of disbelief on her face.

 

Gwyneth: “…No…”

 

Will: “Uh-oh! Shit’s about to go down!”

 

The members of each mafia – Politik and Green Eyes – stare at each other wide-eyed in a standoff surrounding Joe Satriani’s bloodied corpse. Confused and dumbfounded, each individual slowly draws their weapons, but nobody makes a single movement with them.

 

Guy: “Ooh, drama!”

 

TO BE CONTINUED…

 

I just found out I'm leaving for San Diego from tonight until Sunday night. :confused: So I may as well greenlight Chapter 5 since I won't be able to over the weekend. Here we have the confrontation after quite literally killing off Joe Satriani! Note for some reason, Guy becomes a punching bag for every joke here on out. :lol:

 

COLDFELLAS

 

CHAPTER 5: CEMETERIES OF LONDON

Rating: PG13

 

 

 

After a solid five minutes of staring at one another without saying a word, Gwyneth Paltrow finally breaks the silence.

 

Gwyneth: “CHRIS!? What the hell are you doing here? And who’s taking care of the kids?”

 

Chris: “I thought Guy was going to babysit!”

 

Gwyneth: “Guy is right here! Would you seriously trust his clumsy self with children?”

 

Guy: “Hey, I resent that! I kissed a baby once and it didn’t die! Rather, the mother killed it because she was so jealous that it got a kiss from me!”

 

Will: “That is so messed up, dude.”

 

Jonny: “Yeah, way too far.”

 

Gwyneth: “Anyways, why are you and all these other men here? And give me one reason I shouldn’t kill them.”

 

Phil steps forward in front of Chris.

 

Phil: “You must be the Don of one infamous Green Eyes, Inc., I presume?”

 

Gwyneth: “How has such information fallen in to your foul hands, Mr. Harvey?”

 

Phil: “I have my sources, Ms. Paltrow. Allow me to introduce you to the fine gentlemen of Politik, Inc.”

 

Gwyneth: “So it’s YOU fellows who I have been hearing about who’s threatening our business. Chris, what the flying frick are you doing with these despicable people?”

 

Chris: “I could ask the same of you, sweetheart.”

 

Will: “Chris is one of us. He’s been working with our mafia for years, and neither you nor Jonny nor Guy have known about it. Unfortunately, since the cat’s out of the bag, you must all be dealt with.”

 

Chris: “I must say, it feels pretty badass to be married to the ruthless leader of my mafia’s rival organization.”

 

Gwyneth: “Enough nonsense. How did you hear of our devious plot to kill Joe Satriani?”

 

Chris: “YOUR devious plot? My darling, it was OUR nasty concoction.”

 

Jonny: “But you weren’t the one who actually killed him, now, were you?”

 

Chris: “Jonny, look into my heart and tell me if you really mean that.”

 

Jonny: “It’s over, Chris. That’s behind us now. We both know it is.”

 

Phil: “Well, Team Gwyneth, it doesn’t seem as if London is big enough for the both of us, does it?”

 

Gwyneth: “But we have Guy Berryman. That automatically makes us the better-looking mob.”

 

Guy: “Hooray, I’m useful!”

 

Chris: “Honey, you only have that advantage because Will won’t jump into that skimpy outfit I suggested.”

 

Will: “Upon observation, this is quickly turning into mob warfare, which will then turn into even more corpses. Speaking of corpses, holy hell does Joe Satriani stink. And I’m not just talking about his music.”

 

Chris: “So what is it, love? We can return to being a happy family where I can continue being a secret mobster while you go back to making out with Robert Downey Jr., or we can do things the hard way and tear our family apart, thereby validating those retarded marriage crisis rumors. A spider web and you’re caught in the middle.”

 

Gwyneth: *clenching teeth* “You play hard ball, sexy. Very well. My boys play hard ball, too.”

 

The members of Green Eyes, Inc. ready their weapons and take a step forward. Phil signals to his men to stand by. As things begin escalating further, a faint voice can be heard cracking through the chaos.

 

Voice: “Stoooooopppp…thiiiiiiiiiiisssss….maaaaaaadddneeeeeeesssss…”

 

Chris: “A whisper! A whisper! A whisper! A whisper!”

 

The voice’s echo grows louder until a familiar, old, balding figure suddenly emerges from the trees.

 

Jonny: “Ah, Brian Eno, good to see you back. Unfortunately, this is not the best time.”

 

Brian: “SILENCE! I am…The Godfather!”

 

Will: “Weren’t you also the wise, magical, lonely coot in the previous fanfic?”

 

Brian: “I can be lots of things, damn it.”

 

Guy: “But you can’t be irresistible like me! So hah!”

 

Phil: “The Godfather! Oh, merciful heavens, show us the path to mafia righteousness! Tell us who to whack, and they shall be whacked!”

 

Gwyneth: “Your every desire shall be fulfilled, my Godfather.”

 

Brian: “Hmm…when two mob organizations collide, there is only one feasible solution, and unfortunately, it’s really bloody. But I’m not going to sit on the sidelines and watch you two groups squabble mindlessly.”

 

Chris: “So you’re going to merely spare the most handsome?”

 

Brian: “Certainly not, Chris. After all, Guy Berryman would be spared before you. And he’s useless otherwise!”

 

Chris: “Oh, so that means you’re gonna tell Will to become a flamboyant, homosexual drummer who wears outrageous clothes and says outrageous things, lest he be murdered? Because that’s totally what I’d do.”

 

Gwyneth: “Please, sexy stuff, do shut up and let The Godfather speak.”

 

Brian: “I assume you are all familiar with the classic party game ‘Mafia’, where stupid teenagers simulate mob killings by assigning secret roles like cops and murderers?”

 

Phil: “So we’re going to play an innocent party game? With all due respect, are you serious?”

 

Brian: “Not without its share of twists, Mr. Harvey. For you see, anybody who gets whacked in this game gets whacked in real life. Being the Angel of Death among many other things, I shall have the honor of whacking whoever is unfortunate enough to be chosen.”

 

Jonny: “Wouldn’t it be easier for us to have all-out mob warfare, and the last man standing prevails?”

 

Guy: “Jonny, you need to stop watching those movies. After all, I still haven’t seen them.”

 

Brian: “I have a pack of cards with me. Everybody, form a giant circle around me and sit down. I have two Aces, two Kings, a Joker, and seven number cards which I will be holding face-down. Each person must select one card at random. Keep it to yourself, and I will tell you what your cards mean.”

 

All twelve mobsters form a circle, while Joe Satriani’s still-bleeding body is shoved into a ditch. Brian Eno walks around inside the circle, with each mobster selecting a random card from his hand.

 

Brian: “I trust you all know how this works? Depending on the face value of your card, you will be assigned a specific role with different abilities. That is, unless you have one of the seven number cards. That means you are a puny villager without any powers whatsoever. You are at the mercy of the mafia.”

 

Gwyneth: “Just as a suggestion, Brian, shouldn’t we move this game to somewhere less…public?”

 

Brian: “Nonsense. Where was I? Oh yes, if you are holding one of the Aces, that means that you are a murderer. During every round, you two must consult each other over who you wish to kill off. Everyone’s eyes must be closed during this process, or you will be whacked. Trust me, I’ve been itching to try out this sexy new blade.”

 

Chris: “Will could also look sexy…in a homosexual way.”

 

Will: “Damn it, Chris, stop improvising for your own fruity losses. Especially since Jonny’s right here!”

 

Jonny: “Huh? Who’s where now?”

 

Brian: “Quiet, pawns. If you are holding one of the Kings, you are a cop. You can question who you suspect is a murderer each round, and I will answer affirmative or negative. And if you have the Joker…well, you are the Angel of Light. You have the power to rescue someone you suspect is about to be killed. Any questions so far?”

 

Chris raises his hand.

 

Brian: “I’m going to decline that question, Chris, for fear that it involves putting make-up on Will Champion.”

 

Chris sulks and puts his hand down.

 

Brian: “Every round, each person will participate in a vote of who they think is a murderer. That victim chosen, whether a murderer or not, will also be whacked. And I, being the grand force of fate, will be narrating each event and mafia killing while all eyes are closed. The final six will be spared. Let us begin.”

 

Brian stands up, ready to narrate the beginning of the real-life game of Mafia.

 

Brian: “The town of London sleeps. But two mafia members are rumored to be on the loose, with two cops investigating their actions. The Angel of Light looms over the city while its residents settle down for the night. Gentlemen, and Gwyneth, please close your eyes and put your heads down.”

 

Each person quickly glares menacingly at one another before shutting their eyes. No one knows who to trust in this game, and everyone is considered a suspect.

 

TO BE CONTINUED…

 

Chapter 6 brings us a series of highly unnecessary killings that no mob story is complete without! See, since this is a Coldplay fanfic, all non-Coldplay characters are entirely expendable. Otherwise, this is more of a lengthy and bloody build-up to the climax in Chapter 7. And no, Guy won't die in my story. :lol:

 

COLDFELLAS

 

CHAPTER 6: DEATH AND ALL HIS FRIENDS

Rating: PG13

 

 

 

The twelve mobsters are closely huddled around Brian Eno – The Godfather – with their eyes closed and their heads down as the deadly game begins.

 

Brian: “Mafia, please awaken yourselves. Good. Now, without speaking, point at the individual you wish to murder. Uh-huh. You both agree? Excellent. Close your eyes. Now, cops awaken. Point at an individual who you believe is a mafia member. That person, you two say? Sorry, incorrect. Close your eyes. Angel of Light, awaken now. Who do you believe will be killed and wish to save? Yes, gotcha. All right, head back down. The sun has risen. Everyone may now awaken.”

 

Both organizations’ members lift their heads and stare at each other nervously. Everybody knows they each have a one-in-twelve chance of being killed by Brian Eno’s so-called “sexy” knife.

 

Brian: “So what poor bastard is getting the axe, you say? Well, as your sly narrator, I shall guide you through the events of the night.”

 

No one dares mutter a word, for fear that it will provoke somebody else.

 

Brian: “I am speaking to you, my victim, about your fateful night, which started IN RAINBOWS but ended LIKE SPINNING PLATES dicing through your neck. Back in college, when you were considered KID A, one of your peers sent you a VIDEOTAPE vowing revenge by joining the KARMA POLICE. While CLIMBING UP THE WALLS of your HOUSE OF CARDS that you locked your SCATTERBRAIN self out of, you are impaled on a trellis as it pierces your chest like KNIVES OUT.”

 

Before anybody can bat an eyelid, a dagger is suddenly jutting out of Thom Yorke’s throat. Having sliced the mafia’s unfortunate victim at ninja speed, Brian Eno stands in the middle laughing. Everyone else is flabbergasted, staring in vacant disbelief at the dying lead singer of Radiohead.

 

Chris: “How…how…is this…real?”

 

Brian: “Oh, it’s very real, Chris. Believe it. It seems the mafia has taken their first victim of the night – a talented singer/assassin who made Pitchfork Media orgasm on the spot. Now, who would kill a fool like this? It is now your job to vote upon who you believe could do such a thing, who will be killed at the end of the round. Mr. Flowers, please start.”

 

Brandon: “Gee, it’s certainly not Chris. After all, Chris turns into a sweaty monkey who specializes in kissing ass whenever Thom Yorke is mentioned. I’m voting Tom Chaplin. After all, he’s a pirate.”

 

Edge: “Well, I think the ass-kissing detail is heightened evidence that Chris is the murderer. After all, that ass-kissing could have just been a shield all these years to deceive people. I vote Chris Martin.”

 

Will: “I’m also voting Chris. That guy has been riding my coattails about metro sexual nonsense for days and is probably only keeping me alive so that he can force me to wear stupid clothes.”

 

Chris: “They’re not stupid, Will! I’m tired of being the band’s main focus! Heck, the reason you aren’t agreeing to do it is probably because you’re a closet murderer! My vote goes to Will.”

 

Jonny: “Nobody’s looking at the big picture here. I suspect Gary Lightbody, just because he’s been so useless this entire story and is overdue to do something exciting. Even Guy’s been more useful.”

 

Guy: “Say what? That asshole! Nobody is allowed to be more useless than me! Nobody! Voting Gary.”

 

Phil: “No doubt Gwyneth Paltrow is quite bitter over our mob’s existence as a whole, so she’s slowly killing off our members. She’s one of the murderers.”

 

Gwyneth: “But it would be typical of a heartless soul like you, Phil, to kill off one of your own. I say Phil.”

 

The remaining individuals quibble amongst each other and spout off random names. Each of them whisper their vote into Brian Eno’s ear, who calculates the results using his mighty brain.

 

Brian: “I have tallied your votes, people. You have spoken, and somebody will now be killed off accordingly.”

 

The eleven remaining individuals once again freeze up, awaiting Brian’s narration.

 

Brian: “You thought you could RUN from it all and MAKE THIS GO ON FOREVER. But one night while CHASING CARS, a passerby decides to CRACK THE SHUTTERS and pull you in. With your HANDS OPEN, you are cuffed and blindfolded, making you SHUT YOUR EYES. The car’s ENGINES suddenly stop, and you are hurled into a den of starving chimpanzees who show you HOW TO BE DEAD.”

 

Gary: “YAAAAAAHHH!”

 

Gary Lightbody, with a deep lesion shredding across his entire stomach, collapses backwards and bleeds profusely. Brian smirks evilly, while the remaining ten individuals are suddenly more speechless than ever.

 

Brian: “I really do hope Grey’s Anatomy has a proper tribute to Snow Patrol.”

 

Will: “Suddenly, I’m second-guessing this whole mob business.”

 

Brian: “It’s too late for that, Will. Nevertheless, another night has fallen, so eyes closed. Mafia, you may look at me. Who do you wish to murder this time? Yes, mmm hmm, so I see. Close your eyes. Cops, your turn to arise. Who do you believe is a mafia member? So you think? Sorry, no dice. Heads down. Angel of Light, now your turn. Who do you wish to have the chance to save? Affirmative. Close your eyes again. It’s sunrise, so everyone may face the wrath of day.”

 

Everyone has now descended into a state of silent prayer, hoping God will have mercy on them.

 

Brian: “Things have taken an interesting turn, as it seems one of our precious cops is about to be whacked.”

 

Both “cops” begin sweating so that they become totally immobile.

 

Brian: “Twas a BEAUTIFUL DAY that turned into a dreadful night, as while walking WHERE THE STREETS HAVE NO NAME, you suddenly feel NUMB. You are overcome by a sense of VERTIGO as you tiptoe through the CITY OF BLINDING LIGHTS. You hear a gun POP, but only for ONE split second as your head is pierced like THE UNFORGETTABLE FIRE. As your consciousness blurs and can no longer BREATHE, you see NO LINE ON THE HORIZON. Indeed, it truly is a SUNDAY BLOODY SUNDAY.”

 

The Edge attempts to stand up and bolt upon hearing the hints of his coming death, but is too late, as just as he starts to lift himself from the ground, a searing pain in his back freezes him dead in his tracks.

 

Brian: “It was a good thirty years, friend. U2 won’t be ever the same, but I survive, With or Without You.”

 

Jonny: “Holy shit, fellas. What would you think of just calling a truce while we still can?”

 

Brian: “Too late, Mr. Buckland. The news will be all over London by morning, and only the best can go on. Now, I do believe it’s time for another round of voting off the biggest suspect. Mr. Chaplin, you may begin.”

 

Tom: “Arrr, about time, matey! Aye ain’t say anythin’ fer several chapters now! Avast, methinks we should toss Matthew Bellamy overboard, or at least make ‘im walk the plank and feed ‘im to the sharks! A ninja be a pirate’s worst enemy! Arrggh!”

 

Matthew: “I’m not a ninja! I’m a vampire!”

 

Tom: “Yarr, me eye-patch be obscuring me judgment. But the vote still stands!”

 

Brandon: “I second that notion.”

 

Gwyneth: “Having one of my own men killed by the mafia may make Phil seem less manipulative, but I can’t help but suspect that he’s merely trying to dethrone Guy as Coldplay’s most handsome member. Phil again.”

 

Phil: “A grudge match, eh, bitch? Well, two can play at that game! Put me down for Gwyneth!”

 

Chris: “On second thought, I think Will secretly wants to put on those sexuality-questionable clothes. It’s denial. He could never be a cold-blooded killer. Jonny Buckland, on the other hand, stabs every heart in sight.”

 

Jonny: “Oh no, not this garbage again, Chris.”

 

Gwyneth: “Honey, I know we’re sworn mafia rivals bent on killing each other, but do you not love me too?”

 

Chris: “Oh, how you turn me on, dear. For by finding you, I have been able to forget about all the misery that Jonny caused me in the past! My vote now goes to Jonny!”

 

Jonny: “Very well. Just to help level the playing field, I’m pinning it on you, Chris.”

 

Will: “Secretly want to come out like that? Well, Chris, I now quite openly think you’re an insane killer.”

 

Guy: “I vote for myself. I’d rather see myself killed than put up with their three-way man-love garbage!”

 

Will: “It’s not three ways, damn it! I don’t even want to be part of Chris’s retarded fantasy!”

 

Matthew: “A second vote for Guy. Somebody as good-looking as him doesn’t deserve to suffer through this.”

 

Brian: “Well, it seems we have a three-way tie between Matthew Bellamy, Chris Martin, and Guy Berryman. I have a King, a Queen, and a Jack in my hand. Each of you three must pick a card at random, show it only to me but not look at it yourselves, and place it back in my pocket.”

 

Chris, Guy, and Matthew do just that, selecting a card and then immediately giving it back to Brian.

 

Brian: “You chose the King, and your fate is as follows: Upon your search for meaning and ABSOLUTION, you discover a SUPERMASSIVE BLACK HOLE while studying the ORIGIN OF SYMMETRY. Your head starts spinning like BUTTERFLIES & HURRICANES as you are sucked in with your HYSTERIA. You scream for the KNIGHTS OF CYDONIA to come save you, but to no avail as you are swallowed into STARLIGHT.”

 

And instantaneously, Matthew Bellamy lays impaled on a blade.

 

Chris: “First off, where do you keep getting all these knives, Brian? Second, HOLY SHIT!”

 

Brian: “Trembling yet, folks? Really, that’s what he gets for keeping Muse’s fans in such suspense over their next album. That’s both cops gone, folks! There will be two more killings in this final round, and then we’ll have six survivors to form the ultimate mafia! If you’ve come this far, why stop now? The fun’s just starting!”

 

Phil: “Look, I’m thankful as anyone to still be alive, but even I am scared shitless right now.”

 

Brian: “What’s the matter, Phil? Don’t have the guts to continue your business? That’s fine, I guess. We’ll have to kill you, of course, but there’s no rule saying you have to stay.”

 

Phil stays seated and gives Brian a very uncomfortable look of approval.

 

Brian: “Very well. Heads down, please. Mafia, eyes open and select your victims. Really? Are you sure? Fascinating! Very well, eyes closed again. The cops are dead, so Angel of Light, please lift your head. Who do you wish to save? Are you entirely sure? 100 percent positive? Okay, I understand. Everybody, wake up now.”

 

The eight remaining mobsters listen sharply and nervously, not even caring about one another anymore.

 

Brian: “A potential game-changer here, folks. Are you ready?

 

Brian uncomfortably pauses for a brief moment before beginning his narration.

 

Brian: “It came in the dead of night, whirling at the SPEED OF SOUND…”

 

TO BE CONTINUED…

 

Chapter 7, a.k.a. "How Many Coldplay Song Names Can I Fit Into a Single Sentence?" This is also pretty much the climax of the story.

 

COLDFELLAS

 

CHAPTER 7: DEATH WILL NEVER CONQUER

Rating: PG13

 

 

 

Speed of Sound. Upon hearing the mention of those very words that happen to match the title of one of their hit songs, Chris, Will, Jonny, Guy, and even Phil suddenly get goose bumps. Hairs standing straight up, each of the five men gets a sinking feeling in their gut, knowing that one of them is on the verge of death. They all look at one another with anguish, all with the right mind to flee and face the police. Brian continues…

 

Brian: “…SPEED OF SOUND, as you live LIFE IN TECHNICOLOR with SPARKS of joy while you dance the STRAWBERRY SWING. But a WARNING SIGN approaches at HIGH SPEED in the hours before DAYLIGHT. To be precise, in the form of POSTCARDS FROM FAR AWAY that had arrived at your bakery. Setting down your GLASS OF WATER, you pick up a YELLOW postcard from AMSTERDAM…”

 

Gwyneth: “Run, boys!”

 

The Coldplay members look at Gwyneth, as if shocked to some sudden realization.

 

Gwyneth: “One of you is about to be killed!”

 

Brian: “You dare interrupt me, Ms. Paltrow? Or do you wish to volunteer yourself for a whacking?”

 

Chris: “Settle down, love. Just trust me.”

 

Brian: “May I continue? Thank you.”

 

Gwyneth sighs nervously and frustratingly.

 

Brian: “…from AMSTERDAM with a picture of the SLEEPING SUN. Suddenly, you have A RUSH OF BLOOD TO THE HEAD as you become LOST in the picture’s TWISTED LOGIC. Your head starts spinning IN MY PLACE like you just watched the video for LOVERS IN JAPAN a whole 42 times. You hear A WHISPER, almost A MESSAGE, if you will. As you become SWALLOWED IN THE SEA…”

 

Gwyneth continues to make hand gestures encouraging Chris and the boys to vacate immediately. All of them are sitting anxiously for doomsday to tick down for them, though Chris specifically seems almost completely focused on Brian Eno’s every word muttered.

 

Chris: *whispering to self* “Trust me, love. Trust me, all of you.”

 

Guy: *also whispering* “Hey God, if I die, please make my corpse as handsome in death as I was in life.”

 

Brian: “…SWALLOWED IN THE SEA, your conscious mind suddenly CLOCKS out as a pair of GREEN EYES guides you to the POPPYFIELDS of VIOLET HILL, doomed TIL KINGDOM COME. But there is no one here to TALK or FIX YOU. Suddenly, a dark figure of TROUBLE – rather A GHOST of DEATH AND ALL HIS FRIENDS – rises from the WHITE SHADOWS and ironically mutters…’VIVA LA VIDA....for yours ends now…my sweet guitarist prince.’…”

 

Chris: “JJJOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHNNNNNYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!”

 

With one fell swoop, Chris dives into Jonny and knocks him out of the way. A blade goes flying across the lot. Jonny is totally unscathed, but Chris has a deep and lengthy cut across his arm, which he struggles to hold up as he gasps for breath.

 

Chris: “Jonny…Jonny…”

 

Brian: “You have made a grave mistake, Mr. Martin. This treason against I – The Godfather – is reprehensible. There was no point in rescuing him, as while you may have moved out of my knife’s way, I am afraid you now must both suffer my rage.”

 

Jonny: *ignoring Brian* “Chris…but why? Why did you do it?”

 

Chris: “I…I don’t know…I just had to.”

 

Brian: “The game is settled. The rest of us will form a new, unstoppable mafia while the two of you are left for the dogs. It’s a deep shame, but you cannot trust even your closest friends in this business.”

 

Chris: “You have forgotten, Brian, that I held the Joker, meaning that I am the Angel of Light! I have the power to save an individual who I believe is in danger of being whacked!”

 

Brian: “Bullshit. All three times I asked you who you wished to save, you pointed to Will Champion.”

 

Chris: “Well…uh…that’s just because Will isn’t allowed to die until he becomes a flamboyant drumstick-wielding maniac in a hula skirt.”

 

Will: “So you’re saying that as long as I never do it, I am immortal?”

 

Chris: “That’s right. So you’d better do it if you don’t want to live for eternity as a bald prune like Brian Eno.”

 

Guy: “Can we bail yet? The sun is about to rise and I hear police sirens growing louder.”

 

Chris: “You would say that, wouldn’t you? If I may, I have figured out who the murderers are.”

 

Brian: “Very well, Chris. Do have the honor of pointing out the murderers before you are likewise murdered.”

 

Chris: “First off – Gwyneth Paltrow! None other than my own wife!”

 

Gwyneth: “Are you mad, dearie? I would never break your heart like that!”

 

Chris: “Maybe not, wifey, which is why you encouraged us to leave immediately. But you secretly still wanted to whack somebody who did break my heart! You and your double standards, you selfish croon, as you instinctively feared all along that I was still attached to…my past. Somebody you feared was still tempting me from snuggling so very hardcore with you every night!”

 

Will: “So the truth comes out!”

 

Jonny: “Thank you for coming forward like that, Chris. That’s all I wanted. If it makes you feel any better…”

 

Chris: “Shut up, Jonny. I saved you, so why aren’t you on the floor right now quite literally kissing my ass?”

 

Gwyneth: “Very shrewd, love. Almost makes me more attracted to you. Still, your explanation makes very little sense. I only tried killing Jonny because I felt it was important for you to come forward like that. I still love you, sexy. You’d take a knife for me also, right?”

 

Chris: “Depends on the knife. Butter? Sure, why not.”

 

Guy: “I’m serious, I think I now hear helicopters. Let’s bail already!”

 

Chris: “Eager to leave so quickly, Guy? That’s something you would certainly expect to hear from…the other murderer!”

 

Guy: “Chris, stop your nonsense. I’m far too good-looking to be put behind bars.”

 

Chris: “And that’s precisely why you’re a killer! All these years, you pretended to be useless. Your sole purpose for being in our band was to get ladies to fill seats in the audience, but that just wasn’t good enough for you, was it? You wanted more! You were working the angles all these years so that you could each of us off and eventually become your own one-man band! You slime bucket, Mr. Berryman.”

 

Guy: “Actually, I just happened to get handed one of the Aces. And Gwyneth was the one who chose each victim. The only reason I listened to her is because – quite frankly – your wife scares the shit out of me.”

 

Jonny: “No offense, Chris, but those might seriously be the stupidest murder mystery explanations I’ve ever heard, and I’ve watched some really crappy black-and-white murder films.”

 

Brian: “SILENCE! The time for killing is now!”

 

Suddenly, a series of blinding lights cover the area as a dozen police cars pull into the parking lot and surround everyone. An officer steps out of the car, holding a gun and a megaphone in each hand.

 

Officer: “Everyone, freeze! You all have the right to remain…umm…what’s the word…oh yeah! Silent!”

 

Phil: “Oh, fuck.”

 

Brian: “At last you’ve arrived, officers. Just look at the bloodshed these criminals caused!”

 

Officer: “Shut up, Eno. We’ve been following you for 60 years. And I assume these are your accomplices?”

 

Gwyneth: “Any genius plan now, Chrissy?”

 

Chris glances carefully at the lead officer and suddenly raises an eyebrow.

 

Chris: “Liam Gallagher? Is that you?”

 

Officer: “…Chris Martiwhatever? The moody fag from Coldplay? And look, it’s the rest of your faggy band! What the hell are you all doing with the mafia?”

 

Will: “Umm…we were…kidnapped. Yeah.”

 

Brian: “Traitors! I am your Godfather! I will send my goons for you!”

 

Officer Liam: “Ha ha, yeah right. Coldplay is for fags and pansies and men without hoo-hahs. They could never pull off a good song, much less a brutal crime or series of killings!”

 

Jonny: “He’s right! We’re such talentless queers! Unlike him! We could never be from homicidal, rival underground mob organizations! That’s only for cool people!”

 

Guy: “Yeah, I so wish I had talent! All I have are my good looks.”

 

Brian: “Don’t listen to them, officer! They’ve been working the insides for years, plotting London’s black markets and most mysterious killings! Both Mr. Flowers and Mr. Chaplin here can confirm it!”

 

Brandon: “It’s as true as Captain Picard being better than Captain Kirk!”

 

Tom: “Arrgh, aye would drop an anchor in their lagoon ‘n’ throw ‘em in the galley!”

 

Officer Liam: “You guys are funny. You three gentlemen are under arrest! As for you Coldplay fucks and that skank, whatever her name is, get the hell out of here. The sight of you sickens me.”

 

Chris: “Yeah, but she’s my skank, officer! Let’s head back to the bakery, gang.”

 

The police all handcuff Brian Eno, Brandon Flowers, and Tom Chaplin, leading them into the back of one of the vans. Chris, Gwyneth, and the rest of Coldplay drive over to the bakery in the meantime.

 

TO BE CONTINUED…

 

HERE'S THE FINALE! Considering the dark atmosphere of Coldfellas as a whole, I decided to end it in a cheery and lighthearted way. Likewise, it's the shortest chapter, but possibly the most humorous. Hope the three people who read the story enjoyed it! :)

 

COLDFELLAS

 

CHAPTER 8: POSTCARDS FROM FAR AWAY

Rating: PG13

 

 

 

While in the limo on the way to the bakery, Phil (who is driving) ponders and reflects upon things.

 

Phil: “Well, the beans are now spilled about our respective mobs. We got off easy, but even though I don’t know about the rest of you, I’m ready to retire. You know, maybe use my money to help the world.”

 

Chris: “Are you insane, Phil? Look at us! We’re alive! We weren’t arrested! Doesn’t that, in essence, make us truly the greatest band of mobsters ever to walk the streets of London?”

 

Gwyneth: “Oh love, you always know the right things to say! No way in hell are we retiring from the business, and neither are you, Phil. The six of us shall join forces and create one unstoppable, SUPER mafia!”

 

Jonny: “We shall rise again and rule London with an iron fist! We shall call ourselves…Clocks, Inc.!”

 

Guy: “Closing walls and ticking clocks! Nobody will stop us! AHAHAHAHAHA!”

 

Will: “Great. Guy’s sleep deprivation is showing again. Someone give him a blanket.”

 

Chris: “So you’re still alive, Will? How excellent. Phil, since it’s now morning, would you mind dropping us off at the nearest woman’s department store?”

 

Will: “Chris, just fuck off already. The story’s nearly over and you still haven’t tired of that same gag!”

 

Chris: “It’s not a gag, Will. I’m dead serious. Just this once? Pleeeeeeeeease?”

 

Will: *disgusted look* “Fine. I’ll become the most flamboyant, homosexual drummer of all time who wears outrageous clothes and says outrageous things, but IF… only IF you and Jonny do the same thing!”

 

Chris: “That’s it? Pfft! Of course I’ll do it!”

 

Jonny: “Yeah! Sounds like fun!”

 

Will: “Wait, seriously? Damn it! I didn’t think you would actually agree! Fricking hell.”

 

Jonny: “Hee hee hee! What’s Guy gonna have to do, though?”

 

Chris: “Nothing. Guy is enough eye candy already.”

 

Guy: *drowsily* “Huh? Guy candy?”

 

Chris: “Go back to sleep, Guy. Sleep satisfies. Sleep mystifies. Sleeeeeeep…”

 

Phil pulls the limo up to the bakery. Everyone steps out and walks inside, only to find each of the tables lined with colorful Postcards from Far Away.

 

Chris: "Wow! Postcards from Far Away!"

 

Phil: “They’re beautiful!”

 

Will: “Our fans truly have no lives!”

 

Chris: “Wherever the next one is from is where we’re touring next year!”

 

Jonny: *picks up a card* “South Pole! Some walrus is apparently a big fan!”

 

Chris: “Excellent! Phil, make a video, throw in the Technicolor puppets, and put it on the website so our fans can feel good about themselves.”

 

Phil: “I’m on it!”

 

Guy: “What? Walrus? Don’t eat me just ‘cause I’m more attractive! NOOOOOOOO!!”

 

Will: “Sounds like Guy is having a nightmare.”

 

Gwyneth: “Boys? I think you should have a look at this one card.”

 

Everyone walks over to the postcard that Gwyneth is holding up.

 

Chris: “Aww! It’s an adorable stick drawing of Will and Roadie 42 holding hands in puffy green blouses!”

 

Will: “Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be you and Jonny.”

 

Chris: “No way! Jonny and I would wear Yellow blouses!”

 

Gwyneth: “Uh, I meant for you all to read the back.”

 

Jonny: *reading* “HELLO COLDPLAY, I’M PART OF A GARAGE BAND IN NEEDLES, CALIFORNIA. NOBODY HAS EVER HEARD OF US, SO I DON’T KNOW HOW THIS IS POSSIBLE, BUT WE WROTE VIVA LA VIDA FIRST AND YOU PUNKS STOLE IT. PREPARE TO BE SUED.”

 

Phil: “Gentlemen, I do believe the newly-formed Clocks, Inc. has its first whacking mission on its hands.”

 

Jonny: “Mwahahaha! We’re back in business, folks!”

 

Will: “We’ll continue to get rich off our music, then even richer off bribes and the black market!”

 

Guy: *sleep mumbling* “Guuh…money…guuh…ladies…guuh…Guy candy…”

 

Gwyneth: “Oh, how I love being married to the world’s most talented mobster!”

 

Chris: “I love it too, Gwyneth. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do feel a song coming! Gentlemen?”

 

Chris, Will, and Jonny pick up their respective instruments. Phil drags Guy over to his guitar and plops him down. Guy begins drooling on the guitar.

 

Chris: “This new song is dedicated to the many talented people who pointlessly died during this sequence of events. It’s called ‘Coldfellas’.”

 

Lovers, it’s a violent world

I just got lost through all this sound

You don’t have to be on your own

Now my feet won’t touch the ground

 

What if nobody said it was easy?

Crossed lines in a foreign field

Bittersweet I could taste the sleeping sun

Before I know how gravity feels

 

Was a long and dark rainy day

A thousand houses in a perfectly straight line

Turn into something beautiful

I don’t want a cycle of a warning sign

 

Open up your eyes on a tidal wave

Fix you a ladder up to the sun

Don’t you shiver ticking clocks

For you I’d wait ‘til kingdom come

 

THE END

 

Love it!! :D Fav part has to be the note chris left for gwyneth, what a dork :laugh3: every chapter is brilliant! great job! you must write more! :nice: I enjoyed reading Parachutes and Lovers in Japan and all the fics, amazing job everyone! :D

okay, don't be mad but this chapter is kind've short and kind've meaningless.

 

well, it leads up to something BIG in part 4. i promise, part 4 is going to be big! :D

 

 

PART 3 OF PARACHUTES.

Chris awoke to the sound of his phone ringing the next morning. His head was pounding and his ears were ringing from all the drinks he had the night before. That was basically the way he dealt with Natalie. Drinking. He rolled over and picked the phone up off the receiver. “Yeah.” he moaned.

“Chris?” Guy said. “Chris where the hell are you? It's four o' fucking clock!”

Chris shot up and looked at the clock. “Oh fuck, I had such a late night.”

“That's fine. Fine. I just want to tell you we're going to be leaving for New York a little early. Phil was able to get us another gig in at Radio City Music Hall and we have a radio show that morning.”

“Guy.” Chris said, putting a hand on his aching head. “I can't go.”

There was a pause on the other line. “You're joking.”

Chris shook his head as if Guy was there. “No, no man. I had this fight with Natalie and I promised her-”

“Natalie? Is that the reason?”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

Chris could hear Guy trying to hold back his anger. They'd known each other for a long time, and even when they weren't together they knew when they were angry. “Chris.” Guy said. “I, I need to talk to you about Natalie.”

Chris's back stiffened. “What about her?”

“She's not right for you, man. And I think you know that.”

“Guy-”

“Let me finish.” he inhaled. “The boys and I have been talking and we all know that this has been affecting you for the past few weeks. Ever since we went to France you two have been so tense with each other. Is that the relationship you want? You should be with someone who makes you happy, not depressed. For some reason, I don't know why, Natalie can't accept the fact that you're a musician. That's the kind of person we fight against. It's why we do what we do, Chris. Please don't get mad at me. You're like a brother to me, and I just hate to see you this way.”

Chris knew Guy was right. He'd known for a long time but, he'd had such problems with relationships in the past. Chris had met Natalie right after he'd had a really bad breakup, and he was vulnerable. He needed compassion and he found that in anyone. Now he was realizing that he should have broken up with Natalie a long time ago to save each other. “God, you're right man.” Chris admitted. “I'm such an idiot.”

“No!” Guy yelled. “Don't say that. You're not an idiot. You were just trying too hard. Chris, you can't force something to be right.”

“I guess I'll talk to her today.”

“Okay.” Guy said calmly. “Just get yourself together and be at Will's by 5 tomorrow morning. You're a good guy, Chris. Remember that.”

Chris said goodbye to Guy and got ready to do something he'd been regretting for two months. He dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans, and headed out to Natalie's for the last time.

I LOVED IT CHRISTINA!:D

^^^awwthanks!! :nice::hug:

 

i'm writing part 4 now so it might be up soon!

Someone should write a fic about the aftermath of Chris's little crowd experience at the Sound Relief. I know! I willlll.

 

------

 

"Ow!" yelped Chris as Jonny placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned sharply and Jonny pulled his hand back.

 

"What?"

 

Chris made a face. "I don't know...I think someone scratched me or something."

 

Will glanced over, practically oozing disapproval. Guy kept walking, refusing to get caught up in the argument he knew was coming.

 

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have run into the damn crowd." muttered Jonny. "Who knows what could have happened?"

 

"They're not lunatics, Jon, they're just fans!"

 

"You never know." snapped Will. "It was pretty stupid."

 

"Nothing happened!" protested Chris, fuming. Jonny whacked him in the shoulder. "OW! Jesus, man!"

 

"That happened!"

 

"That's nothing!"

 

"Liar."

 

"They're just nervous." muttered Guy. "You were buried under a lot of people."

 

Chris fell silent and turned to Guy. The bassist shrugged. "You were really nervous?" asked Chris, sounding a bit guilty. His gaze shifted from Jonny to Will.

 

"Well, um...we..."

 

"Yes." finished Jonny. Chris's eyes widened in shock.

 

"Oh. I'm...sorry. But I'm fine...really!"

 

"Yeah, whatever." said Will disbelievingly.

 

Chris eyed him. "Wanna check?" he asked, beginning to take off his jacket.

 

"No!" said Will quickly. "Do NOT shed your clothing until you've showered!"

 

The others laughed, except for Chris, who looked a bit wounded.

The end.

^^awh, poor chrissy! :D

 

it's why we love him.

 

 

great job!!!!!!

It's finally up! As promised, Volume 3 of 'No More Keeping My Feet On The Ground' which features more revelations, more shocks and.....a bit of bad language! Also for the first time in the series, it features Diary entries from the mysterious Ben! Enjoy!

 

 

 

No More Keeping My Feet On The Ground

 

VOLUME THREE

 

 

 

PART ONE: Phil

 

December 17th 2011,

 

Dear Diary,

Chris and the management called us all into the Bakery today to discuss the 'future of Coldplay'. They discussed Guy's death and the appointment of Ben but decided that Coldplay are to split up with immediate effect. Ben took it really badly and stormed out, Jonny wasn't that bothered, Will seemed a bit annoyed and Chris was close to tears. So was I really. I suppose we will all have to get new jobs. I hope we still stay in contact

 

=====================

 

May 6th 2015,

 

Dear Diary,

Rubble. That is all thats left of the bakery. Last night a fire started there and this morning- It's gone. The police seem to think it's an accident, I don't think it was and I think I have an idea about who it is!

 

=====================

 

PART TWO: Guy

 

January 28th 2011,

 

Dear Diary,

I met Ben again today. Not in the best circumstances but I did. I caught him dealing heroin around the back of the pub near my house. He laughed it off and offered me some, I said no and and we went for a drink.

 

=====================

 

February 16th 2011,

 

Dear Diary,

Me and Ben met up today. We recorded a song together, I thought it was really good, he's a great singer aswell you know, he puts me to shame. On the way back to my place he offered me some heroin, I took some. It was quite good actually, I have never been high before but It was an amazing feeling, I just don't want to get addicted but I definetely want to try it again.

 

=====================

 

PART THREE: Will

 

May 1st 2015,

 

Dear Diary,

He's out of hospital is Chris. He's getting all the sympathy now. It's really getting on my nerves actually. It's not like he didn't get any attention before. He says he has left Gwyneth and the kids aswell. He's a wierd one is Chris.

 

=====================

 

May 5th 2015,

 

Dear Diary,

I went down to the bakery earlier. I did and I burnt it down. All those memories are erased. Everything won't be about Chris and when they all find out that I did. They will all talk about me!

 

=====================

 

PART FOUR: Jonny

 

February 9th 2015,

 

Dear Diary,

Phil got married to Amy today. It was so false, you could tell that she was gagging for me. But if she wanted me then she shouldn't of married Phil. I told her that it was over and she should pretend that the baby is Phil's, I don't want anything to do with her. I just want to settle down with Chloe.

 

=====================

 

March 9th 2015,

 

Dear Diary,

Chris rang me earlier on. It was hilarious, he said he had killed Gwyneth and the kids, I just laughed and put the phone down, then he kept texting me, I just switched it off. He is funny but really, I found this a bit sick.

 

=====================

 

PART FIVE: Ben

 

January 26th 2011,

I sold loads of crack today! I got over £1000, I also sold a bit of heroin. Also this evening I met this guy in the gay bar around the corner and you won't believe who it was! Guy Berryman from Coldplay! I was so star struck and I didn't know that he was gay! He said we should meet up again!

 

=====================

 

December 17th 2011,

 

Dear Diary,

Fuck my life. I'm selling no drugs, no nothing and when I thought I could have a steady job in the band of my dreams, Chris bloody Martin comes along and says that we are splitting up!

 

=====================

 

PART SIX: Chris

 

July 20th 2015,

 

Dear Diary,

What a glorious day. We performed for Her Magesty The Queen! She loved our music and said she had us on her iPod. It really surprised me for two reasons, that she likes our music and the fact she has an iPod! I wonder what else she has on there, I think she likes a bit of Jay-Z, I shouldn't joke about that actually. I miss Jay-Z.

 

=====================

 

March 12th 2015,

 

Dear Diary,

If you want to know how I killed myself, here you go, here's a step by step guide. I am putting the noose around my neck, I'm standing on a chair as I write this. I'm going to put this down in a second so i will tell you what I am going to do. I am going to jump up and away from the chair and going to break my neck and kill myself. Goodbye world, remember me for my music, not my murders.

 

=====================

 

:sick: I'm scared.

i was in a writing mood, so here it is, LAST PART OF PARACHUTES.

 

i'll put the other parts up too.

 

PARACHUTES (THE COMPLETE STORY)

PART 1:

 

 

 

 

Chris is sitting in his hotel room in New York City. He’s at the foot of the bed, looking down at his feet, and dressed in all black with white sneakers. The room is dark. The only light coming in is from the sun rising over the buildings. His blue eyes are filled with confusion, sadness and anger. Guy quietly walks in and leans against the wall. “Hey.” He says quietly.

Chris looks up and smiles. “Hey.”

They pause for a few minutes until Jonny takes a few steps forward. “Listen, about last night. I-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Chris says firmly while standing up. “It… it’s fine.”

Guy furrows his brow. “No,” he shakes his head violently. “no it wasn’t fine.”

They stare at each other for a few seconds, then Chris chuckles. “Come on, man. Just forget it.” he slaps Guy on the shoulder.

“I just want you to know that it was nothing. It was stupid, and-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Chris snapped. His eyes were staring straight into Guy’s.

Guy nodded. “Fine. Well when you’re ready to talk, let me know.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Chris mumbled, staring at the wall.

They paused for a few seconds before Guy slowly walked out the door. Chris sighed as soon as the door closed, sat back down on the bed, and reached for the mini bar.

 

 

 

PART 2.

 

 

ONE WEEK EARLIER

The boys shuffled off the stage as the crowd cheered for more. Chris collapsed on the dressing room couch in a pool of his own sweat as the three others went for water. “Good show.” Phil said as he walked into the room. “You know the audience gets kind of pissed when you only do ten songs.”

Chris shrugged and wiped his face with a towel. “Well what can we do about it?”

Phil shoved his hands in his pockets. “Write another album.”

The four of them all turned to Phil. It had only been a year since they wrote Parachutes, and they were in the middle of a tour. “W…” Will shook his head in confusion. “We’re in the middle of a tour.”

“So? Write on the road. I hate to tell you, guys, but you’re going to have to get used to something now.”

“What’s that?” Chris asked.

“Fame.”

A couple of hours later the guys decided that they’d try to write some new songs, and see where it went. Then they got ready to leave. “Hey, Chris.” Jonny said as they were walking out the door. “Will and I were going to go get a beer. Care to join?”

Chris smiled wryly and shook his head. “No man, there’s something else I have to do.”

“Oh, oh okay. Good luck, man.”

A few minutes later Chris was at the top of her street. London looked like a ghost town late at night. The wet streets made everything look so much darker, and it was so quiet. The center of London, and not a noise to be heard. His stomach turned as he walked up to her front step and reluctantly knocked on the door. There was some rustling inside, then the glow of a light being turned on from the window. She quietly opened the door and smiled. “Hi.” she said quietly.

Chris tried not to fidget. “Hi. Did I wake you?”

She shook her head. “No." There was a pause for almost a minute."Have fun tonight?”

“Natalie.”

Chris and Natalie’s relationship had been nothing that you would call an actual relationship. It all started a few weeks ago when Natalie started complaining about Chris always being away. After that, they’d been fighting like an old married couple. They were slowly drifting apart and frankly, they had no idea what was keeping them together.

A few seconds later Natalie opened the screen door for Chris, and he walked into her living room. Natalie switched off the T.V. and leaned against the couch. Chris awkwardly shifted his weight and leaned against the stairs. “Are we going to talk about this?” he said.

“Oh Chris.” Natalie snapped.

“What?” he quickly replied. “Come on, you know this is awkward, I know this is awkward. We can’t spend our time like this. We have to talk about it some time.”

Natalie glared at him. “What is there to talk about? You, you’re always away and frankly I’m fucking sick of it. Don’t try to deny it but you know this was going to happen.”

Chris’s anger turned to sympathy. He did know that he was away all the time but, he wanted her to care more about what he did. Frankly, he thought she was quite selfish but he never tried to make her think he was right about anything. He put a hand through his short, cinnamon brown hair. “Hey, I’m sorry.” he said, and took a step closer to her.

She folded her arms and let out a shaky sigh. “What is happening to us?”

That statement left them both quiet for a few more seconds. “Hey,” Chris said, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “if you want, I’ll ask Phil to postpone next week’s gig in New York.”

Natalie looked up and smiled. “Really?”

Chris smiled back and rubbed her shoulder with his thumb. “Really.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a few more seconds then Chris felt Natalie’s arm stiffen under his grip, so he slowly let go. “Well, em. I better get going. You should get some sleep.” Chris said.

“Okay. Good night.”

Chris walked out of her house and down the stoop, and felt his heart start to ache. He was disappointed that she didn’t ask him to spend the night. He just wanted to be around her but… something else inside him was asking himself what the hell he was doing with her. They surely weren’t right for each other, so they were just pulling at loose strings. After that, Chris knew he wouldn’t sleep so he walked down the chilled streets of London down to the pub.

 

 

 

 

PART 3.

 

 

 

Chris awoke to the sound of his phone ringing the next morning. His head was pounding and his ears were ringing from all the drinks he had the night before. That was basically the way he dealt with Natalie. Drinking. He rolled over and picked the phone up off the receiver. “Yeah.” he moaned.

“Chris?” Guy said. “Chris where the hell are you? It's four o' fucking clock!”

Chris shot up and looked at the clock. “Oh fuck, I had such a late night.”

“That's fine. Fine. I just want to tell you we're going to be leaving for New York a little early. Phil was able to get us another gig in at Radio City Music Hall and we have a radio show that morning.”

“Guy.” Chris said, putting a hand on his aching head. “I can't go.”

There was a pause on the other line. “You're joking.”

Chris shook his head as if Guy was there. “No, no man. I had this fight with Natalie and I promised her-”

“Natalie? Is that the reason?”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

Chris could hear Guy trying to hold back his anger. They'd known each other for a long time, and even when they weren't together they knew when they were angry. “Chris.” Guy said. “I, I need to talk to you about Natalie.”

Chris's back stiffened. “What about her?”

“She's not right for you, man. And I think you know that.”

“Guy-”

“Let me finish.” he inhaled. “The boys and I have been talking and we all know that this has been affecting you for the past few weeks. Ever since we went to France you two have been so tense with each other. Is that the relationship you want? You should be with someone who makes you happy, not depressed. For some reason, I don't know why, Natalie can't accept the fact that you're a musician. That's the kind of person we fight against. It's why we do what we do, Chris. Please don't get mad at me. You're like a brother to me, and I just hate to see you this way.”

Chris knew Guy was right. He'd known for a long time but, he'd had such problems with relationships in the past. Chris had met Natalie right after he'd had a really bad breakup, and he was vulnerable. He needed compassion and he found that in anyone. Now he was realizing that he should have broken up with Natalie a long time ago to save each other. “God, you're right man.” Chris admitted. “I'm such an idiot.”

“No!” Guy yelled. “Don't say that. You're not an idiot. You were just trying too hard. Chris, you can't force something to be right.”

“I guess I'll talk to her today.”

“Okay.” Guy said calmly. “Just get yourself together and be at Will's by 5 tomorrow morning. You're a good guy, Chris. Remember that.”

Chris said goodbye to Guy and got ready to do something he'd been regretting for two months. He dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans, and headed out to Natalie's for the last time.

 

 

 

 

PART 4. (BRAND NEW, CONCLUSION)

 

 

 

 

“Chris!” Natalie said, happier than usual. “I'm so glad you're here.”

Chris furrowed his brow. “You are?”

She smiled brightly and nodded. “Mmhm. Come in!”

Chris opened the screen door and walked into Natalie's apartment. Something was different. She sat down on the brown leather couch and gestured for him to sit next to her, so he sat. “Chris,” Natalie said. “you and I have had our differences. And you know, last night was just stupid. I want to thank you for being so compassionate about my feelings. I want a fresh start.”

His bright blue eyes widened. Chris had no idea what to say. He came here with the intention to break up with her, and he thought she'd be okay with it. This changed everything. “Chris?” Natalie said, gently putting a hand on his scruffy cheek. “Chris are you okay?”

Chris pulled away slightly but nodded. “Okay.” he whispered.

“Oh, wonderful!” Natalie yelled. “I want to put everything with your silly “career” behind us and just be ourselves. Obviously singing isn't a profession so maybe I could get you that job at my dad's restaurant like we were talking about.”

Chris was stunned. When he first met Natalie she kept talking about how music isn't a profession but he asked her to stop, so she did. I guess she thought that a “fresh start” meant he doesn't have feelings. “You can't talk like that.”

Natalie shot him a confused look. “Like what?”

“Stop downing my profession.”

She furrowed her brow. “Music isn't a profession.”

Chris stood up and paced the floor. “You know what? I'm done.”

Natalie stood up and waved her hands in the air. “What is wrong with you? I didn't do anything.”

“See? It's always me!” Chris yelled for the first time in their relationship. “You never do anything wrong cause you're fucking perfect, right? Okay, I'm leaving.”

“Why?”

Chris looked puzzled. “Because we aren't right for each other, Natalie. Am I the only one who sees that? We don't get along, you hate music and I'm sorry. I can't be with someone who hates music. Goodbye.”

Natalie started yelling something as he slammed the door behind himself. When he looked around the street, things seemed a little brighter. Chris's heart wasn't hurting anymore, and finally he felt like himself again.

 

 

Guy walked into the bar around midnight. He sat down at the counter and ordered a scotch. He was worried about Chris. Their relationship had been a bit odd lately, since Chris had had his mind on so many things that had to do with Natalie.

“Hey.” Guy heard a voice say to his right.

He looked over to see Natalie sitting next to him. Her golden blond hair was soaked from the pouring rain and she was dressed in a black tank top and jeans. “Hi.” Guy said quietly. “How are you?”

“Well your friend broke up with me today.” she said, ordering a martini from the bartender.

Shit. Guy didn't know what to say after that. “I'm so-”

“Don't say you're sorry.” she said, taking a gulp of alcohol. “You're his friend so I'm sure you were one of the ones who probably talked him into it. Don't take this the wrong way but he's a bastard.”

“Another drink?”

A few hours later Guy could barely walk from all the alcohol running through his veins. Natalie and him had been talking about basically everything except Chris, and despite his best friend's feelings he was beginning to like her. The two of them walked outside arm and arm around three A.M., laughing at absolutely nothing. When they got to Natalie's flat she started fumbling through her purse for her keys. “Shit.” she mumbled. “I know they were in here but you know, I can barely remember what I did this morning.”

They stared into each others eyes for a few seconds before Guy took another step closer, until he was about an inch away from her lips. They stood there like that until she made the move and pressed her lips against his. He pulled her small waist in and wrapped his hands around her. She put her fingers through his hair and started to kiss him more intensely. A few seconds later they heard someone cough next to them. They pulled away from each other to see Chris standing ten feet away from them with his jaw open.

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE END!!

 

 

if you need an explanation, you can see that the beginning is a wrap up of what happened between them that night.

 

 

so. yeah!! :D

:sick: I'm scared.

 

so did you like it? :)

"No More Keeping My Feet On The Ground" fanfic is... :stunned: I don't know the word. I'm scared too. :stunned:

:D, Is it keeping you gripped? Do you like it? And I am sorry it is scaring you! They are all really messed up

Well you have a weird imagination... :lol: (Don't we all?)

The fanfic is fine. But scary.

:P, At least it is making an impact :)

The first part of my, as promised, Superhero FanFic.....I give you 'The Coldplay'

 

 

The Coldplay

PART ONE

 

 

 

It's a glorious day at The Bakery. Will is sat on the sofa singing 'One Day Like This' by Elbow. Chris is putting popcorn in the microwave. Guy and Jonny are playing each other at air hockey on the air hockey table and Phil is upstairs in the bath.

 

"Popcorn is ready guys!," Chris called from the kitchen/

"Thanks, I'll be right there" replied Jonny, being the coward he is, running away from the shame of being defeated by the reigning air hockey chamion of Coldplay, Guy.

"You don't want to finish our game, Jonny?" asked Guy

"No!, We don't want the popcorn to go cold!" replied Jonny.

 

Chris, Jonny and Guy jump on the sofa next to Will.

 

"What film are we seeing then?" said Will

"The Dark Knight" replied Chris

"I've never seen it!" said Will

"Well that is why we are watching it" replied a smug Chris

 

Guy walked up to the Blu-ray player and put the disc in.

 

Shouting upstairs Jonny says, "The film is starting, are you coming down Phil?"

No reply is heard.

 

THREE HOURS LATER:

 

"WOW! That was an awesome film" said Will in awe of what he just saw

"It certainly was an amazing motion picture, wasn't it Chris" replied Jonny

Chris is scribbling something in a notebook.

"Chris?" said Jonny

Chris held up his notebook to Jonny, Guy and Will. Will starts to read...

 

"The Coldplay?"

 

 

Okay, so now that I've gotten over my fear, I can tell you what I think of NMKMFOTG. :)

 

I have always loved darker fanfics, and they are usually very gripping and horrifying. But, to be honest, I really can't see Chris murdering anyone. Not even the paparazzi outside his house! He must be pretty freakin' screwed up. I'm very nervous to see what you throw at us next! :P

Okay, so now that I've gotten over my fear, I can tell you what I think of NMKMFOTG. :)

 

I have always loved darker fanfics, and they are usually very gripping and horrifying. But, to be honest, I really can't see Chris murdering anyone. Not even the paparazzi outside his house! He must be pretty freakin' screwed up. I'm very nervous to see what you throw at us next! :P

 

Don't worry! theres lots more of the story yet to be told, not everything is as it seems at the moment. I am really enjoying writing NMKMFOTG so I hoping to post VOLUME FOUR in a few days!, I'm sorry for the delay between two and three :)

It's so funny actually typing 'NMKMFOTG', but the real name is too long to write out...:P

someone please comment on parachutes before i start to get really paranoid that you're not posting because you hate it. :stunned:

I don't hate it! ;) Don't get paranoid, girl:p

Was just occupied.. Staring at Chrissy:wink3:

 

Guy is such a drunk bastard!:angry: Poor Chrissy :(

^^hah, thanks! :P

 

i know.. chrissys the innocent, beautiful one. :wacky::P!