It Was All...

 

Part 4

 

 

 

What was wrong with me? One day I'm in love with Chris, and the next I want nothing to do with him. To go from 'I want to spend the rest of my life with you' to 'No, thanks, I'd rather vomit' in less than twenty four hours... something's gotta be wrong with me.

 

After my little run-in with Chris, which went disastrously right, I went for a walk. I needed the fresh air and the thinking time. It didn't do much good, but I found my feet dragging me to Will's hotel room. I wasn't sure if he'd be in, but I took the chance anyway.

 

His warm smile greeted me as he opened the door, graciously accompanied by a, “Hey, Guy.”

 

“Hi, Will,” I smiled back, though a bit forced it seemed. “C-can we talk?”

 

“Yeah, of course,” he said, widening the doorway. “Come on in, then.”

 

I did as he said and took a seat in one of the chairs by the far wall. It was fairly comfortable, considering it was just a wooden chair without a cushion or anything. The carpet looked nice, too, what with it's tasteful red plushness. And the walls were pretty; a sort of off-white color, I think. Will sat in the other cushion-less chair next to me.

 

“I would think you'd have gone to Jonny to talk,” he laughed. “Seeing as everyone else does.”

 

“I might have, but he already knows, and I don't think he's on my side anyway.”

 

“Oh. Well, what did you want to talk about?” he politely asked. I decided to keep it to the point.

 

“Chris.” He stared, waiting for me to continue. I didn't really feel like it.

 

“OK,” he finally said. “What about Chris?”

 

Sometimes I wonder why Will shaves his head. I remember back in the old days, when we were just starting out as a band, he had a full head of hair. It was gorgeous hair, I always thought, and I was a bit envious of him. Then one day, he just shaved it all off. He's not balding, so is it just easier to maintain this way? It's a really perplexing thing. He didn't care, though. He just wanted me to answer him.

 

“We, um... we did some stuff...”

 

“Stuff? Like... stuff stuff?” he said with wide eyes. I nodded. “When?”

 

“Last week.” The window was closed, but the blinds were open. It was such a lovely day out. The sun was shining as bright as ever, and there were very few clouds scattered throughout the sky. I could just barely see the people walking down the street. I thought I saw a rather tall curly-haired man jogging by. I probably didn't. “I haven't talked to him since then.”

 

“You haven't talked to him about it?”

 

“I haven't talked to him, period.” That sentence seemed to clarify to Will my problem. He briskly ran his hand over his bearded chin, and I knew I was in for it.

 

“Why not?” His voice was very forceful and scolding now. “Guy, that's a really jerky thing to do, even for you.”

 

“I know. I'm not interested anymore, though.” It was a realization that hit me the morning after Chris and I were together. We fell asleep in the bed in my hotel room, but when I woke up he wasn't there. It wasn't a surprise, though; Chris is an early-riser and he probably snuck back to his room so no one would suspect anything. What was surprising was that I wasn't sad, I wasn't even just OK with him not being there. I was relieved.

 

After quite a bit of thought on the subject, I came to the conclusion that I was no longer in love with Chris. So, I figured there was no point in talking to him, really. Sure, if he started talking to me, I'd listen and respond, but I wouldn't go and seek out a conversation with him. There was no need for such a thing.

 

“Just because you're not interested makes it OK for you to be careless with his feelings? How did you think Chris would handle this?”

 

“He's a big boy,” I said. “Everyone always tip-toes around him like he's some sort of fragile little figurine. Just because you drop him doesn't mean he's gonna break.”

 

“But he did break, didn't he? Have you even looked at him over the past week? He's not been doing well. And now I know why.” Will was tearing through my plans. It did not make me happy.

 

“I... couldn't look at him...”

 

Maybe I should take this back a step. I lie, sometimes. Not just for the fun of it, though, but for a purpose. This is one of those times.

 

Of course I'm still in love with Chris! There is nothing wrong with me besides that fact. When I woke up that morning, I was sad that he wasn't there. I realized not that I wasn't in love with him, but that I'm so in love with him that any little thing he did could probably break my heart, even unintentionally. In order to combat this, I decided to cut myself free of him. If I don't interact with him, I can't get hurt.

 

Right?

 

What I didn't think about was Chris, funny enough. He did get hurt. It was awful to see him all sad and... well, hurt. But I just couldn't let myself be so vulnerable. All I wanted to do was wrap him in my arms and tell him how much he meant to me, but I couldn't.

 

“You are the worst liar I've ever met, Guy,” Will said. “You are still interested.”

 

“Yeah,” I admitted. “But the thing is... I want him to hate me, so that way... well, if I make him hate me, then I can at least prepare myself for it, you know? This way I won't get hurt so easily.”

 

“That's horrible logic.”

 

“I know it is, but I still went through with it. Will,” I cried, placing my hand over my forehead, “I flipped him off.”

 

“You are so...”

 

“I know, but I had to do it. He still likes me.”

 

“If you like him, and he likes you, then why the hell are you sitting here talking to me?!” he yelled.

 

“I don't... It's too much of a risk for me.”

 

“It wasn't too much for Chris.” I hate it when Will makes really good points. I also hate it when he uses my own words against me. “Guy, just because someone drops you doesn't mean you're gonna break.”

 

“You're a real bastard, you know that?”

 

He laughed and grinned a horribly smug grin. “I'm not the one ignoring my friend for very selfish reasons.”

 

“Fine,” I said. “I'll tell him the truth. I hope he forgives me.”

 

“He's Chris. Of course he's gonna forgive you.”

 

ECONOMICS

 

 

"Did you think that was gonna happen, Jonny?" Chris asked. "Did you ever once in your life imagine that we would be... hehe... dating?"

Jonny and Chris were walking to Economics, holding hands. Chris was grinning like an idiot.

It was kind of embarrassing Jonny.

"Yeah, actually," Jonny replied. "But, you know, that was only about five minutes before we started."

"I always knew we'd end up together. Though I don't know why you'd like me."

"I don't know either, but it's probably best not to dwell on it."

Chris laughed. "See, it's easy to figure out why I like you."

"Is it?"

"Yes, it's because you're very sweet and funny. And beautiful," he added with a smile.

"You're not so bad looking yourself, Martin," Jonny smiled back.

They walked into the classroom, and Jonny went to his seat.

As he sat down, he realised that Chris had followed him and had taken the seat beside him.

Noticing Jonny's surprise, Chris's eyes widened with horror.

"Did you not want me to sit next to you?" he asked.

"No, it's fine, I just didn't know you were going to."

"I can move back to my other seat if you want."

"Chris, it's OK," Jonny said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

Chris sighed in relief. "Good."

Jonny shook his head, but he couldn't help laughing a little.

Guy and Amber walked into the room much like Chris and Jonny had, smiling and laughing and all that good stuff.

"It was such a horrible movie!" Amber laughed.

"No, it was obviously the most awesome thing ever," Guy said sarcastically.

"Even the title was bad. I mean, 'Things From Space,' seriously?"

"It could be worse, we could have gone to see the Hannah Montana Movie."

"Ugh, so true."

"Jonny, all is right with the world, isn't it?" Chris asked.

"What do you mean?"

"We're together, Guy and Amber are together..." Chris looked around to find Will.

Will was sitting and staring at the clock. Nothing new there.

"... Will still likes art."

Jonny laughed. "I suppose you're right."

"Everything's perfect."

"Class! Today we're going to start our new chapter... about credit!" the teacher said, passing out a bunch of worksheets. "It's something that you're going to be using for the rest of your life, if you haven't already been introduced to it."

Chris took one look at the worksheets and scoffed.

He leaned over and whispered to Jonny, "Can't we ever learn anything that's not extremely boring?"

"No, of course not, Chris. Nothing interesting ever happens in this class."

 

 

THEEEEE EEEEEND!

 

lots of creativity today to make up for yesterday. :cheesy:

Chris'd like to say

 

 

 

I found that poem you wrote today.

It was laying on the floor.

But don't you worry, Jonnyboy,

because I love you so much more

 

than you can imagine. Really,

I just don't understand how

one single person by himself

can make me feel like I do now.

 

Your smile, your voice, your pale green eyes,

your contagious and lovely laugh.

No one else could take my heart

and soul just like you have.

 

So please don't be afraid

to tell me how you feel.

Because this love, our love,

I know it's definitely real.

 

We'll be so great together

when the time finally arrives

for us to declare our love

that will last for the rest of our lives.

 

Maybe I'll go first, then,

since now seems to be the time

what with us writing out our feelings

in poorly written rhyme.

 

That's no offense to you, of course

because your writing is top-notch.

I'm talking about myself mostly,

my poems are hard to watch.

 

See? Like that.

It should actually be 'read'

but I'm bad at this poetry stuff

so I think I'll just cede.

 

But one last thing I just thought

that you'd like to hear from me

you're my number one and thus

my dear, my love, Jonny.

 

 

 

Welcome to the JoBros

 

 

 

"Chris, go home!!" Phil shouted. "It's time to leave."

 

"Can I please just record this one last time, Phil?" Chris begged. "Pleaaaaseee?"

 

Chris made his best puppy dog eyes, but they weren't gonna work on Phil.

 

"No, I've got a card game to go to. And I have to leave, like, right now."

 

"Ooh, who are you playing cards with?" Chris asked.

 

"I'm going over to... the Jonas's," Phil muttered.

 

"The who?"

 

"The Jonas's," Phil said in a much louder voice.

 

"The JONAS'S?" Chris gasped. "But, Phil, they're talentless American pop stars! Why would you play cards with them?"

 

"Cause they suck and I make a lot of money off of them," Phil answered. "I never lose."

 

"Hmm... okay. Good luck, then!" Chris said before hopping off to his home.

 

 

THE NEXT DAY

 

 

Chris hopped back to the Bakery to find that Phil was already there.

But Phil was not quite as jovial as he usually was.

 

"Hey, how'd the game go, Phil?" Chris asked in his bright voice.

 

"I... I lost," Phil said.

 

"Holy Toblerone, Phil! How much did you lose?"

 

"I didn't lose any money, I-"

 

"Oh no, did you lose your... delicates?"

 

"Chris, why the fuck would I lose my underpants?"

 

"I don't know!!" Chris exclaimed. "Oh... oh, Phil... you didn't lose your house, did you?"

 

Phil shook his head. "I lost... you."

 

"... What?" Chris asked in a quiet voice.

 

"I bet your contract, and I lost." Phil and Chris stared at each other for a few moments. Then, Chris began to laugh.

 

"Oh, Phil, you're such a joker. Anyway, time to record some demos!" Chris tried to get into the Bakery, but Phil wouldn't let him through.

 

"You don't belong here anymore, Chris."

 

"Phil, Phil, Philly, Phil. You've got to learn when to give up your joke, man. It's not funny once you've been found out," Chris said, patting his hand on Phil's shoulder.

 

"It's not a joke, Chris."

 

"Yeah, Chris, it's not a joke," said a voice from behind Chris. Chris turned to see who it was.

 

"Oh no..."

 

"You work with us now, Chris Martin," Nick said.

 

"Yeah, it's time to come with us," Joe agreed.

 

Chris, horrified, ran to Phil and grabbed the front of his jacket.

 

"Phil, I don't want to be a JoBro! I want to be in Coldplay!!" he cried.

 

"I'm so sorry, Chris," Phil cried back. "It's all my fault!"

 

Nick, Joe, and Kevin watched as Phil and Chris clung to each other, bawling their eyes out.

 

"Aw, look at them," Nick said.

 

"Poor guys," Joe said.

 

"So sad," Kevin added. "OK, time to go now!"

 

The three brothers pulled Chris away and dragged him out of the alley.

 

"Phil, you dumbass," Joe said as they walked away. "You should have known that we're practically proJoBros at Go Fish! We're hustlers, don'tcha know?"

 

"Yeah, we've been waiting for this for ever! We may not have much talent," Nick said, "but now we've got someone who does!"

 

"Phil..." Chris whispered as the brothers pulled him away.

 

"Chris..."

 

 

THE UGLY PLACE

full of JoBros things!

 

Chris looked at his surroundings. There were tacky posters up on the walls of artists like Miley Cyrus and Taylor Swift. It was uuuuugly!

 

"What is this place?" Chris wondered aloud. Suddenly, the door opened and the brothers walked in.

 

"OK, we're ready for our next hit single!" Nick said, clapping his hands together.

 

"Yeah, let's do this," Joe agreed.

 

"Actually, guys-" Chris began.

 

"Listen, Martin," Nick threatened. "You either do this, or we cut your talent out of your body and stick it into Kevin."

 

"Yeah!" Joe said. "Wait... why does Kevin get the talent?"

 

"Because we got the looks," Nick replied.

 

"Oh, yeah! Makes sense. Sorry, I just forgot that we're so gorgeous."

 

"It's understandable. Just remember what I taught you when you forget."

 

"Always...," Joe said, tapping his chin with his index finger. "Ah! Always look in the mirror."

 

"Precisely. Now, Chris, make us a hit song!"

 

Chris reluctantly walked over to the piano sitting in the middle of the room. It was weird, and nothing at all like his piano. He tried to play a few chords, but it just wasn't working out. He looked around once more. He noticed a sign on the wall.

 

"The sign says, 'Studio'," Chris said, "but my heart says... jail."

 

He looked back down at the piano, and began to play again.

 

"A sto-"

 

"No, that's no good!" Joe said. "Try again."

 

"But I didn't even really start the song," Chris whined.

 

"Yeah, and it was already not good enough," Nick said. "Jesus Chris- I mean, Christ, I thought you were supposed to be a genius at this!"

 

"None of this feels right," Chris said. "Maybe if this place looked more like the Bakery, I might feel better."

 

"Fine," Joe said. "Hey, Kevin, get over here!"

 

Kevin walked over, and Joe whispered something in his ear. Kevin nodded and left.

 

A BIT LATER

"There, that's the last of it," Kevin said, dropping the piano onto the floor.

 

"Good," Nick said. "Now, play us a tune, Chris!"

 

Chris sat down at his piano. His fingers hit the keys, but it still wasn't right.

 

"I'm sorry, guys. I can't do this," Chris said. "This place looks too much like the Bakery now, and I... I..." Chris started to cry.

 

"Oh my God, you're such a crybaby!" Nick exclaimed. "What will get you to write us a flipping song?"

 

"Well," Chris began, his face lighting up, "some chocolate might help."

 

Fifteen minutes later, Kevin brought in a giant wheelbarrow filled with various chocolates. Two minutes after that, the wheelbarrow was empty.

 

"There!" Nick said. "Is that enough chocolate for you?"

 

"Oh, definitely!" Chris said, licking the last bit of chocolate from the empty wrapper in his hand.

 

"Will you write a song now?" Joe asked.

 

"Hmmm... nah! I wanna go to the park!" Chris said.

 

"The park?"

 

"Yeah, and swing on the swings, and climb on the jungle gym, and go across the monkey bars..."

 

"Aren't you a little old for that?" Nick asked. Chris shot a look at him.

 

"Why do you hate me?" he whined. "Why does everybody hate me all the time?!?!"

 

Chris began to throw a fit, screaming, crying, jumping, and throwing things all over the place.

 

"That's enough!!" Nick finally screamed. "I'm so sick of you!"

 

"Yeah," Joe agreed. "You're going back, we don't care if we're talentless! At least we've still got our looks... minus Kevin, of course."

 

"Yeah!" Kevin said. "... Hey!"

 

"Oh, please. You're about as attractive as dirt," Nick said. "Now, take Chris back, please."

 

"What makes you the boss?" Kevin asked. "I'm the oldest, you know."

 

"Yeah, but no one wants to listen to you," Nick said. "And besides, everyone knows I'm the best looking."

 

"No, I thought that was me!" Joe said.

 

"I think you're both lemurs compared to Guy Berryman," Kevin said.

 

Joe and Nick turned to him and simultaneously said, "Who?"

 

"Seriously?" Kevin asked, rolling his eyes. "The bassist from Coldplay."

 

"Speaking of," Nick said, "where'd Chris go?"

 

The three brothers looked around, but Chris was nowhere to be found.

 

 

THE BAKERY

 

"That's the last time we let Phil make any decisions," Jonny said.

 

"Yeah, I can't believe you were a Jonas Brother," Guy said. "How lame."

 

"Well, we're glad to have you back," Will said.

 

"Thanks, guys," Chris smiled. "I'm glad to be back. But there's just one problem..."

 

"What is it?" Jonny asked.

 

"I still haven't worked off that sugar rush."

 

"Oh, God," Will said. "That's it, where'd Phil go?"

 

"He went to the store to get more tissues, why?" Guy asked.

 

"Because," Will said, "this is his mess. He can clean it up."

 

 

 

A Rush of Blood

 

Chapter XV

 

 

Removed, please PM me if you want to read it.

 

One Day Like This

Chapter 8

 

 

About an hour into their flight, Guy still didn't regret leaving. He figured he would by now. But every time he looked at Emily he felt an aching deep inside, an ache to be with her at all times. As he sat there, as close to her as the two seats would allow, he realized he had never really felt happier.

 

I wonder if Emily feels the same way?

 

She did, of course. In fact, at this very moment she was about to burst inside because he was right there next to her, his arm barely brushing against hers, and yet she couldn't really do anything, since the things she would have liked to have done would not have been considered appropriate for a plane ride. She didn't like the claustrophobia of airplanes either. Even the largest ones felt small and cramped to her. She couldn't wait for the flight to end so she could finally be free to start her life with Guy, and by the way Guy was looking at her, she figured he felt the same.

 

Guy didn't realize, or didn't care to realize, that Emily could see him staring at her. Eventually, he had to force himself to stop, before he lost control of himself completely. He turned towards the window and gazed at the clouds that were below them now. Watching the endless layers of white and gray, Guy suddenly felt a rush of exhaustion and yawned. He then realized just how tired he was.

 

How irritating that even when there's such an amazing woman right next to me that I still have to feel such stupid things like exhaustion. I should be stronger than that.

 

But he couldn't really avoid it, he was only human after all. The concert last night had worn him out, as it always did, no matter how many concerts he played. And then there was the second half of the night, which hadn't involved more than a few minutes of actual sleep. And now that lack of sleep was catching up with him. He started to doze off, but he forced himself to keep awake, not wanting to leave Emily even in sleep.

 

You know you're going to have to sleep sometime.

 

He wished his subconscious would shut up. As crazy as he knew he was being, he couldn't stop. He was afraid to miss anything.

 

Like what, a blink?

 

His subconscious was being awfully sarcastic. He chose to ignore it and fought against the waves of exhaustion instead.

 

Meanwhile, Emily was getting very anxious; the plane ride was becoming her own personal form of torture.

 

She turned toward Guy and jokingly questioned "How much longer Guy? I feel as though we've been flying for weeks already!"

 

Guy took her words seriously though.

 

This is my fault. I should've at least been talking to her. I'm so clueless sometimes.

 

"Um....." He glanced at his watch. "We've still got a good hour and a half to go."

 

Emily sighed, serious this time. She really didn't know how much longer she could take this. But Guy had an idea.

 

"Hey Em, I think I've got a way to help pass the time."

 

He definitely sounded like he was taking her complaint seriously, like it was his own personal responsibility to cure her boredom. He leaned down, so that his face was right next to hers, although Emily was facing forwards. She felt herself start to sweat. She hoped he would try to kiss her or anything, because if he did she didn't trust that she'd be able to control herself. So she just sat there, facing forward, trying to keep as still as possible, while she waited to see what he was going to do.

 

I hope Guy won't feel insulted that I won't turn to look at him. But there's no way I can turn and look at that beautiful face right now. It'd be too much to bear.

 

Emily's worries were for nothing though, because Guy's intention was not to kiss her. Although, the weren't completely in vein, because what Guy actually did was beautiful in itself. After pausing for a brief moment, he leaned in closer so that his lips were right up against her ear, and he began to sing softly to her; Chinese Sleep Chant.

 

If she sleeps she'll forget her boredom and she'll awake with joy to find that we've reached our destination thought Guy with a smile.

 

Emily gasped inwardly, and hoped that she hadn't done so out loud. Fortunately she hadn't. She sat there, in complete shock, as Guy continued to sing to her, his head now resting on her shoulder.

 

This is.....the most beautiful thing......that I've ever heard....in my life. I can hardly believe that any voice could be this beautiful.

 

She wanted to say something, but she knew that if she unclenched her teeth she'd scream due to all the love she felt for him right now. So she just leaned back in her seat and listened to the sweet whispers of the most beautiful man in the world. Guy continued to sing Chinese Sleep Chant, in the best voice he could possibly muster while whispering. He wanted nothing more than to please her, to keep her happy, in any way that he could. It was a new feeling for him, he had never had any real desire to please before.

 

He continued on like this, just repeating the lyrics over and over for several minutes. But ironically, he managed to fall asleep himself in the process, his head resting on Emily's shoulder. Emily then made the mistake of glancing to the side to see him this way, so peaceful and so insanely beautiful. She had to fight back tears. Instinctively, she reached out and stroked his head lovingly, almost as if testing to make sure what she was seeing was real.

 

He tried so hard to stay awake; I saw him; nodding off, trying to keep his eyes open. I even saw him pinch himself to stay awake. I wonder why he wanted to stay awake so badly? Anyway, it appears he lost that battle.

 

She chuckled to herself. Glancing at him again, she sighed, out of contentment this time rather than irritation or boredom, as had previously been the norm. She leaned back again and closed her eyes. She knew sleep wouldn't come. But she had never felt so at peace before. She felt it in every bone of her body.

 

I hope this feeling never ends.

 

It Was All...

 

Part 5

 

 

 

I worried about what was gonna happen between Chris and Guy. When I talked to Guy, he denied what I told him Chris had said, but he was obviously lying, and he sounded a bit angry with the fact that Chris had told me. He's not a very intimidating man, but he's quite an asshole when he's angry. Or really, really, really drunk. Of course, it didn't help that Chris never came back. I went about my business anyway, silently hoping that everything was fine.

 

Later in the day, I decided to take a stroll around the city and look for Chris. When I found him, he was sitting on a bench about a mile from the hotel. Judging by his somber state, I assumed that following Guy did not work out well for him. He was curled up, knees to his chest and his chin resting on his knees. I sat down next to him, but he didn't move at all.

 

“How long have you been sitting here for?” I asked. He shrugged.

 

“It feels like forever, though.”

 

“Do you want to talk?”

 

“Maybe,” he said. “Can we go somewhere else?”

 

“Do you wanna go back to the hotel?”

 

“OK.” He dropped his feet to the ground, then ran his hands over his face a few times before finally standing up. I soon joined him, and we began to walk back to the hotel. “It was such a lovely day today,” he said as he stared up at the sky. “I wish it was always this nice.”

 

“It was pretty nice, huh? But I hear tomorrow's supposed to be even warmer.”

 

“Good. I like this weather.” We continued to walk down the nearly empty sidewalk, in almost complete silence. Every now and then Chris would mention something, either something he saw in the clouds, or something about one of the store we passed, but other than that there wasn't much conversation going on. It was fine, though; I knew he wanted to wait until we got back to the hotel to really talk.

 

We ended up going to my room to talk. There was a rather small couch thing in there, so we both sat down on that. I didn't want to force Chris to talk, so I didn't say anything until he did.

 

“I did talk to him. When I went to the antique place.”

 

“And?”

 

“And I asked him why,” he quietly said, staring down at his hands, which were resting in his lap. “And he told me he didn't like me anymore.”

 

“Is that all he said?”

 

“Basically. And then I said, 'Thanks for letting me know,' and he... Jonny, he flipped me off.” His voice was shaking, and he looked up at me with tears in his eyes and said, “He hates me.”

 

I placed my hand on his shoulder, and was about to say some comforting thing to him, when he lunged forward and buried his head in my torso. So instead, I rubbed my hand up and down his arm while he sobbed. “I don't think he hates you, Chris.” Chris said something in reply, but between his crying and the fact that his face was hidden, it just sounded like a bunch of mumbling. “What?”

 

He slowly lifted his head and looked at me. “Jonny, thank you for being such a good friend,” he said.

 

“Not a problem,” I said, flashing him a friendly smile. He tried to smile back, but it didn't really work. He just kept staring at me. There was a noticeable change in the expression in his eyes, but I wasn't sure what it had changed to.

 

“Jonny...”

 

“Yea-” I began, before I was rudely interrupted by Chris, who had decided to kiss me. “Chris, what are you doing?!”

 

“Shh,” he said, holding his finger up to my mouth. “There's no need to talk.” He removed his finger and replaced it with his own mouth. I felt kinda bad, like if I were to kiss him back I'd be taking advantage of him or something, but I did it anyway. I mean, come on, I was gonna let an opportunity like that slip by? I don't think so.

 

And he was so sweet. His one hand rested on my chest, but he used the other to gently run his fingers through my hair. Kissing him was like... I don't even know how to describe it. It was wonderful. I did feel a bit bad, though. But I mostly didn't. I was too, you know, caught up in the moment. Otherwise I wouldn't have taken advantage of him when he was in such a vulnerable state.

 

In any case, some precious minutes later, Chris finally pulled away. I slowly opened my eyes to see Chris still a mere inch away from me, his eyes darting over my face. At first, he looked like he was smiling. Pretty soon that changed, though. The longer he looked at me, the more his smile turned into a frown.

 

“Oh, Jonny... I'm so sorry,” he said as he backed away. “I-I didn't mean...”

 

“Don't worry about it.”

 

“I'm so sorry,” he said, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

 

“Don't be. It's fine.”

 

“I'm such a fucking idiot!” He buried his head in his hands momentarily and screamed like mad. “Oh my God, Jon, can you please slap me?”

 

Even though he sounded completely serious and very angry with himself, I couldn't help laughing. “I don't think that'll solve any problems.”

 

“Not slapping me's not gonna solve any problems, either, but you seem to be OK with doing that.”

 

“Good point. But I'm still not gonna slap you.”

 

He shook his head, and sighed. “I should get over him, shouldn't I?”

 

“Guy?”

 

“No, David Hasselhoff,” he retorted. “He's so dreamy, but I just can't have him. I think it's time for me to let him go.”

 

“It's not easy to get over someone, you know,” I said. “It might not happen at all, no matter how hard you try.”

 

He stared at me with this painful look on his face. “Seriously, just slap me. Or punch me, that might be better.”

 

“Couldn't even if I wanted to.”

 

“You really are a good friend. Too good, even.”

 

“Maybe you could get Guy to slap you. That'll probably help you to get over him.”

 

“That's actually a pretty good idea,” he laughed. “Thanks, man.”

 

 

One, Two, Three, Four.

 

 

ONE

 

 

It's one of those things you don't ever forget- losing a best friend. There's something about it that you never think it'll be that bad. But when you've been friends for four years, and everything falls apart- it kills you. It tears you up inside and out. You can't sleep, you can't eat, you can't do anything but think about the person you lost. Are they okay? Are they happy? Are they.... are they being loved?

At least this is what I did when I lost Chelsea.

We met freshman year of college. It was a warm fall day on campus and I was absolutely terrified. My major was something I knew nothing about, plus, I was coming from a small town to London. Oh, and I had absolutely no friends. My intentions were to go to college and form a band with some friends- little did I know how far that would take me.

A little after I moved into my dorm I went for a walk to get used to the layout. The buildings were plain, brick, and kind've boring. Everything else around us was beautiful, though. London was honestly my favorite place to be, ever since I was a kid.

It got much more beautiful, though.

I turned the corner to the women's dorms and saw a site that would change my life forever. There Chelsea was, frantically climbing out of an old Mini Cooper with a huge box of clothes in one hand, and what looked like a map in the other. Her hair was tied up, and even though she looked like she was about to faint she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I acted casual, and continued walking down the sidewalk as she crossed in front of me to the front of the dorms, muttering something to herself. Suddenly, I noticed something fall out of the top of her box.

An incredibly sexy black laced bra.

I didn't know what to do. This was obviously a great way to start a conversation, but she was obviously frustrated, and would barely know I'm there. I went with my insticts, picked up the bra as appropriately as possible, and ran after her. "Uhm, miss?" I panted, as I caught up to her side. "I think you dropped this."

As she turned around to look at the bra, I got a better look at her. She was absolutely stunning. Long, curly brown hair, hazel eyes, and a beautiful smile. I waited as she looked down at the bra, up at me, then down at the bra again. "Ahh, shit." she said, throwing her box down.

"What?" I said, slightly confused.

She smiled. "The first good looking British guy I meet and he sees my bra before he even knows my name. Fuck. You wanna go get a beer?"

She was so different. So sociable, warm, and fun to talk to. I knew that we'd be great friends.

The thing is, she never knew that ever minute we were together I fell more and more in love with her.

Living with her was a living hell. She was great, but having to deal with her dates was terrible. She didn't date too many guys, which was good, but when she did, I couldn't do anything. I'd be so worried that this guy would be "the one" since I'd waited yet another day to tell her how I felt. I'd sit in the apartment all day. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I'd just worry.

Thankfully, they were all a bunch of ******s, so she didn't go past a few months with each.

One and a half year, and she still didn't know a thing. I'd made all these crazy theories in my head like, she felt the same way, or she's a lesbian or something. Whatever it was, I didn't care, I was just dying to tell her how I felt.

We were going to watch a football match at my best friend Jon's one night. It was a little after my band and I found out we were getting a record deal, so things between Chelsea and I were a little off. She's a musician too, and didn't get a record deal yet. I hoped she didn't hate me, but knowing Chelsea, I was sure she was acting odd because she thought I would act odd.

I didn't do anything that night. There'd been so many open doors for me to ask her to talk in private, and I didn't say a word. I bit my tongue so hard at times it bled. She even, what seemed to me, flirted a little.

But you know what I did?

I did what I do best.

I left.

We drifted apart after that. I became incredibly busy with world tours, paparazzi, press and making new albums. Chelsea got a record deal a few years later and became one of the most successful solo artists of our generation.

But I was still in love with her.

After ten years of not seeing her, I finally got the chance to tell her how I felt.

 

 

TWO

 

 

A month or two after finishing the incredibly long Viva La Vida world tour, I got a call from a good friend of mine. A good friend named Alicia Keys. She was calling me to ask if I'd perform at her Charity ball in a couple weeks. With nothing else to do, I agreed. Maybe I'd finally meet someone who got my mind off Chelsea.

"There's one thing." She said, kind've quietly.

I asked what.

"Uhm," she said. "Chelsea OBrick is going to be there."

My jaw fell right to the floor. "Do you know where she's staying?"

"Well, she lives in Los Angeles but Chris, she's e-"

Whatever Alicia was going to say didn't matter to me. I slammed the phone down and headed out to the first flight possible to LA.

I didn't bring anything, which was kind've stupid. I had just enough money to rent a standard room at the Hilton in LAX, but no change of clothes, no guitar, just the clothes on my back. Maybe that was best.

After just a few hours of online searching of Beverly Hills homes I found hers. A beautiful, Spanish style home on the very edge of the city. It fit her perfectly.

It was much hotter there than I expected, and as usual, the city was crowded with rich, snobby people. There seemed no reason to me why Chelsea would choose Los Angeles. She could work and live wherever she wanted, and always raved when we were younger about how she hated big cities. This worried me. I was afraid that she'd changed.

I got very nervous on the ride over. We hadn't spoken in just about ten years, so who knows how she'd react. If I were her, I'd punch me in the face. But I really hoped that wasn't what she'd do. I just needed to let her know.

Sweat. Lots and lots of sweat as I parked in front of her house, and walked up the driveway. Two cars were visible through the garage windows. One, a gigantic black SUV. Being a celebrity, everyone has those... I guess.

And in the other window I could see a familiar car.

That old, red and white 1962 Mini Cooper.

It was then, that I knew, I had the right house.

Three knocks, and my stomach flipped like a pancake.

There were footsteps, rustling and some talking behind the door in front of me. I tried to stay calm, and I tried to act cool. But the truth was, I was smiling and sweating like an idiot. Suddenly, I heard the latch unlock, and standing in front of me, was nothing near what I expected.

Standing in front of me was a man. Six foot one or two, with short brown hair, and some gray in the front. Bright blue eyes, wearing a blue dress shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes. For some reason, he looked really familiar. "Can I help you?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Oh, yeah, uhm, does Chelsea OBrick live here?"

"Yes," He smiled. "she's upstairs. Who can I tell her you are?"

Be nice, Chris, be nice. I stuck my hand out. "Chris Martin, an old friend from college."

He smiled. "Hi Chris. I'm Chase. Chelsea's fiancee."

At that point, I could've really used a scotch.

 

 

 

THREE

 

 

I probably should've known. She's such a wonderful girl, she's exposed to all this handsome celebrities... I should've known that someone wasn't as stupid as I was. Engaged. She's engaged.

Chase had gone upstairs to get Chelsea as I sat on their velour couch, that was probably the size of my bathroom. The house was gorgeous. Pastel colored walls, super vintage, artsy statues and paintings were hung everywhere, I was sure by Chelsea's doing. Chase didn't seem like the... well... I didn't really know Chase at all, but I already wanted him dead.

Footsteps started to come down the stairs. One louder than the other... the clicking of heels. I stared at the door. This was wrong. Chris, get out. This isn't right you shouldn't be here. She's ENGAGED!

"Chris?"

Her voice was music to my ears. I looked up, and there she was, standing about five feet away from me. Her hair was much shorter, and curly. But her face. Her face was the same. She had that same smile across her face. The same one I saw ten years ago.. when I left. She was dressed in a black, sparkled t-shirt, stockings and her favorite boots. God, she hadn't changed.

I didn't konw how she'd react. If I were her, I'd kick myself out. But she did the complete opposite. She ran up to me and embraced me for a hug. I couldn't believe it. Chelsea. Chelsea was back in my arms. It was like nothing had changed. For that moment, she wasn't engaged.

"I can't believe it!" She said, laughing. "How've you been? How's the guys?"

She was looking up at me like I was a prized jewel worth millions. I pushed a curl of hair out of her face. "Fantastic. We're all fantastic."

"Ooh wonderful!" She laughed, and sat down on the couch next to me. "So tell me, tell me what's been going on? Heard you finished a big world tour."

I tried to smile. "Just heard you're engaged."

For some reason, I thought I saw a flash of remorse. Then, she smiled brightly, and held out her left hand. "Yep!"

I gasped. There was a beautiful, giant diamond ring engulfing Chelsea's finger. "It's... it's great!"

She nodded.

"So, uhm. When is the big day?" Please don't say soon. Please don't say soon.

"Well," Chelsea looked around, obviously looking for Chase. "I've been engaged for three years."

My heart danced. I didn't know what to say. Her bright, hazel brown eyes stared striaght through me. "Listen Chris," she looked worried. "can we go somewhere and talk? Like, catch up?"

I smiled. "After you."

Chelsea got changed into a t shirt and jeans, and took me to her favorite spot in the city. Hollywood Hill. It was quite the beautiful place. Giant rolling, dusty hills all around, looking down on the enormous city that looks so peaceful from up so high. But I was worried about Chelsea. She didn't talk the entire walk up there, and the fact that the subject of her engagement was so frightening scared me.

All I knew was if he was beating her, I was going to kill him.

 

 

　

FOUR

December 24th, 1998.

Chris is 21, Chelsea is 19.

 

 

"Have yourself a merry little Christmas," I sung. "let your heart be light."

I could feel her eyes on me as I sung the beginning of that classic Christmas song. The snow was insanely heavy outside, and we were alone in the college auditorium, rehearsing for tomorrow night's Christmas concert. I can honestly say it was the most fun I'd had in a long time. We'd gotten a few coffees beforehand and were on a caffiene rush, then we had to head off to my best friend Phil's Christmas party. It was great to have the whole night with her. No girlfriends wanting to gossip, no boyfriends wondering why we hung out so much... yup, just the two of us.

"Ahh, shit." I mumbled as I forgot the words at the end of the song.

Chelsea snorted as I just hummed the tune, and the last strum of my guitar faded out. "Very good," she yelled from the darkness in front of me. "Sinatra would be proud."

I chuckled. "Is that it? Have we gone through the setlist?"

She appeared slowly from the darkness of the stage lights and walked up the steps. "Yep, I think we're done here."

As I began to pack up our guitars, I noticed Chelsea was just staring at me. I looked up, she blushed and looked down at my feet. "What?" I said insecurely.

She looked up at me. Her bright, hazel colored eyes were shining brightly. She was wearing a bright red dress that complimented her chestnut brown hair perfectly. But those eyes. I could get lost in those eyes.

"N....nothing." She finally said, and sharply turned back to the front of the stage, packing up her gear. "Excited for the party?"

What was that about? Is there something on my face? "Not really." I chuckled. "You?"

"Yes!" She said happily. "I think it'll be fun."

"It's Phil."

"Eh, okay, maybe not. But I am excited to see what you got me for Christmas."

I smiled, thinking of the present that was now awaiting Chelsea under Phil's Christmas tree. "Me too."

---

It took us about twenty minutes to run to Chelsea's house through the pouding white snow. We talked the entire time about the gig, songs we'd do, and the party tonight. I couldn't help but think there was something different in her voice. What was up with her just staring at me?

We dropped off our stuff, and Chelsea decided to make some tea before we left for the party.

It was half past seven when I made myself comfortable on Chelsea's couch. "So," I frowned. "how's things with that Josh guy?"

She moaned loudly from the kitchen. "He's out."

My heart fluttered.

Chelsea walked into the room and put a hot cup of tea on the table in front of me. "I just..." she sighed. "I don't get you men."

"We're quite confusing." I joked.

Chris, do it. Tell her. This is the perfect moment. "Chels,"

She looked up, and smiled brightly at me from across the couch.

My stomach was flipping. I stood up and started to pace the room. Chelsea started to look worried. "Chris, are you okay?"

SPEAK!

I grabbed her hand and pulled her in for a kiss. It was even more amazing than I'd imagined all these years. Her tongue was so soft, her lips, so delicate. Suddenly, something happened that was never in my dreams.

She pulled back.

Her eyes were filled with confusion, but she was still about an inch away from my face. She gently put a hand on my cheek, and kissed me again.

Oh, how perfect this moment was.

Present Day.

Did I forget to mention that?

Yeah, I kissed her. She kissed me back, and we never really talked about it again. Part of me thinks she thought I was drunk, the other part of me thinks that she just didn't know what to say. Funny, I had no idea what to say either. No idea for ten years.

Chelsea sat down in front of me, smiling just like she did that Christmas Eve. "Sit." She said. "Talk."

I caught her up on everything that'd been going on in my life, except my dying love for her, of course. I talked about the band, my family, past girlfriends that never worked, and new music I was making. The sun slowly danced across the hilltops as I talked for hours.

"Your turn." I laughed, coughing as my voice got sore.

She was silent. "I don't really know what to say."

I laughed out loud. "Chelsea, you're a rock star! You're life is every musician's dream!"

There was something in her eyes that I'd never seen before- regret. She stared straight ahead as I adjusted myself so I could see her face. "Chels.... what's going on?"

"Sometimes..." her eyes welled. "sometimes I feel like I don't even know my own fiancee. We met at one of his games and I tell you Chris, he was a charmer. He made me laugh, showed me all the steps, and worked all the moves. I really felt like I knew him well but, I think I was just feeling... vunerable? Oh god, you probably think I'm insane."

"Go on." I demanded.

She nodded. "We really don't have any of the same interests. I like art, he likes sports. I like music, he likes trucks. I like Italian, he likes Chinese. I get along with...well... I have much more in common with you than my own fiancee."

Could this become a good time?

"Chris. Am I making a bad decision?"

"I'm in love with you."

 

 

FIVE

 

 

The look of shock, anger, and suprise on Chelsea's face made me ache. Tears were welling in her eyes, and her jaw was completely dropped. She hadn't said anything, which made me wish the last five minutes never happened.

"Well say something." I said, feeling my face get flushed. "Please say something."

She was as pale as paper, and I considered just sprinting down the hill as fast as I could and lying down on a highway.

"W..." she was thinking hard about what to say. "what do you expect me to say to that?"

I love you too! I'll break of the engagement now! Let's run away together! "I don't know." I mumbled.

The feeling of her hand on my knee made me tingle. "Chris, your friendship means everything to me. I know we had some awkward times back in college but I-"

"Don't say that." I was sobbing like a baby at this point, now knowing her answer. "No, don't say that. I want to be more than that."

Silence.

"I'm having problems with my engagment but, not enough to call it off."

That was enough. I needed out. I nodded, wiped a tear off my cheek and began to walk as fast as I could back down the track. Knowing how mature and smart she was, I knew she wouldn't chase me. But I was still hoping that she might call me later.

I sat in my hotel room and cried. I just didn't care anymore. There was plenty of booze in the mini bar to keep me busy as I wept. The love of my life had just rejected me...again.

Chelsea's POV

I couldn't believe it. It was pretty strange how he'd just suddenly showed up at my door without even saying goodbye so many years ago. He was a big star, I was engaged, and he just told me he loved me.

And I think I feel the same way.

But you know what I did? I rejected him.

All I could see was his face- Chase's face- that face he gives me when he's angry. His blue eyes turn red with anger, his fists clench tightly, and the veins in his arms began to show. I know that if I told him I was leaving him, he'd probably kill Chris and I both. Why did I just let him go, though? He was crying. Crying! All the years I'd known the man, the only time I saw him cry was the night we watched Titanic.

It's just the way things had to be. I said yes that Valentine's Day night Chase proposed. Chris left without even saying goodbye. Maybe I could go and work things out. Just don't kiss him, Chelsea. As much as you might want to.

I couldn't stop thinking about Chris the rest of that night. Chase didn't really mind since he was on his cell phone all night, as he usually is. The bedroom was pitch black as I laid in bed, my back as stiff as a board, staring at the ceiling. Light poured into the room as Chase stumbled in. It took me about three seconds to realize that he'd been drinking while I was gone. "Where'd Chris go?" he mumbled.

"Just went back to his hotel." I turned away, trying to hide my tears. I wanted Chris to come to this bed, not Chase. Not Chase.

I could feel the bed sink as Chase climbed in. The smell of his breath made my face cringe as he kissed my shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just tired." I lied.

He mumbled some reply into my back that I couldn't understand, then I felt him climb on top of me. "Chase, no." I grumbled. "Chase not tonight."

Chase didn't reply, and with every push of his chest he pulled closer to me, putting his hands up my shirt and sloppily pressing his lips against mine. He wouldn't stop. With every moan, and plea, and cry he got even worse. He pushed my legs apart with his knee and began to tear my jeans open. Fabric was tearing, and tears were streaming down my face as I pleaded and cried for him to stop, but couldn't do anything to change my fate. He was going to get what he wanted, in more ways than one.

Suddenly, an idea hit me. I reached toward the lamp table for the alarm clock and slammed it over Chase's head as hard as I could. He yelled in pain, pulled away from me and fell backwards onto the floor. I was absolutely traumatized. The man I was going to marry just tried to rape me.

Chris's POV

I was sloppily singing along to "Sympathy For the Devil" as it blasted over the radio. My head was spinning, but Chelsea was the only thing on my mind. I wondred if she was okay. Chase didn't seem like he was right for her at all, but I didn't know him nearly long enough to figure out what exactly was wrong with him.

My thoughts were interrupted by a pounding knock on the door. Who the hell could that be? The guys were all spending time with their families.

It was Chelsea standing behind that door, but she looked terrible. Her makeup was smeared all over her face, she was sweating like crazy and her clothes were torn. She was wearing enormous sunglasses to most likely hide from the paparazzi. "Turns out I do want to be more than just friends." She said. "My fiancee just attacked me, and I really need some comfort right now and... I just, I'm sorry."

Attacked. That was all I could think about. I didn't care about how she'd rejected me, all that went through my mind was that word. Attacked. I was furious.

Chelsea came into my room and told me about everything that'd happened. I convinced her to call the police, and the police gave the press a fake name so the media wouldn't find out. They went to her former house and arrested Chase for attempted rape. When the police left, I really didn't know what we'd talk about. Chelsea had changed into one of my old Bruce Springsteen shirts and some sweatpants, and stared at me like there was something on her mind. "What?" I smiled, slightly drunkenly.

"I'm in love with you too." She said, running her fingers under my chin. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything before I just, for some reason, wanted to make Chase happy. Now I know that man will be never happy unless he gets exactly what he wants, and he wants me to be his sex slave. Chris, you're my best friend and there's no one else I'd rather spend my life with. I love you."

And then, I realized. Chase and I are pretty alike.

We're never happy until we get exactly what we want.

 

 

And You Carry The One - Chapter 12

 

 

“Jonny did you steal everybody’s fucking pants again?” yelled Will.

 

Jonny ignored his question as he had other problems. Namely, balancing on the small boat.

 

“Gah! I can’t swim!” Jonny swayed from side to side.

 

“Don’t worry if you drown I can give you mouth to mouth.” said Chris grabbing Jonny before he tipped the boat over.

 

“Where the fuck are we?” said Will, paying no attention to what he had just heard.

 

“On a boat. In the middle of a lake. In out underpants.” said Chris.

 

“I know that you-” Will was cut off by a purple haze that appeared next to the boat. As it cleared a skinny green man for sea weed for hair appeared in another small boat. He seemed to be wearing a pink tutu.

 

“Hi there. I‘m Ol‘ Greg. Pleased to meetcha.” The boys looked at him, or rather stared at him, in suprise.

 

“What are you boys doin’ in me waters?” he said.

 

“We don’t really know.” said Chris confused, pausing for a second to think about it.

 

“Was you fishin?” he said.

 

“How would we fucking fish with no fishing rod? Or clothes for that matter?” said Will.

 

“Don’t sass me mother licker. I’ll smash you upside your bald head.”

 

“Look who’s talking You’ve got seaweed for hair.”

 

“You don’t talk to Ol’ Greg that way. No one talks to Ol’ Greg that way, because I’m Ol’ Greg. And Ol’ Greg doesn’t appreciate it. I’ma hurt you.”

 

“What?”

 

“I like you. Would you like to see my cave? It has drawings of Ol’ Greg. Mmmhm.”

 

“No….”

 

“What Will means is we’d love to.” said Jonny.

 

“What?! No!” yelled Will.

 

“Don’t mind him. He’s just jealous of your awesome seaweed hair.” said Jonny smiling.

 

Ol’ Greg smiled. He had obviously not visited his dentist in a while. Chris pulled Jonny aside. Or at least tried to whisper so Ol’ Greg could not hear.

 

“What are you doing? I don‘t wanna see his cave!” Chris said.

 

“Would you rather be standing out here in your underpants in the cold? I mean you look sexy and all, but it’s freezing, I want pants, and I can’t swim. Maybe he has extra clothes we can wear.”

 

“The man's in a fucking ballerina outfit!”

 

“So? If we want to leave, we can just press you again.” Jonny said smiling.

 

“Fine. Your lucky you have a great smile you know. Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to put up with you.” Chris said smiling. A purple haze appeared around them and before they knew it they were standing in the middle of some sort of blue cavern.

 

 

 

And another fanfic I've been working on.

 

A Little Maple Syrup And A Lot Of Love (WARNING: extremely smexy.) :P

 

 

Chris walked around the bakery, he had fallen asleep on the piano again. He was half expecting Guy and Will back from wherever it was they ran off to last night. But no, there was only Jonny, sitting on the couch, reading. Chris smiled. Jonny didn’t hear him come in, he was staring intently at his book. Chris picked up a pillow on the floor and threw it at him.

 

“Gahh!!” he dropped his book at looked at Chris furiously.

 

“You made me lose my page!” he yelled. But Chris didn’t care. He thought he looked cute when he was all worked up. He sat next to Jonny turned on the television. Jonny smiled. He could never stay mad at him for long. Especially when he looked the way he did today. It was the bands day off and Chris never liked to do much on those days. All he ever did was sleep or walk around in his boxers or both. (he sleepwalked sometimes) Jonny always thought he looked sexy these days. He always had a bed head and a permanent smile on his face. He sneaked a hand to Chris’ thigh and squeezed it hard. Chris jumped.

 

“What the fuck Jonny?”

 

“I want sex. Right now. Your already in your boxers anyway. Pleeaase?”

 

Chris grinned. He could never say no to that man. He leaned over and started to kiss him slowly, then he remembered something and broke away.

 

“I don’t think we can do it here.”

 

“What? Why?”

 

“Because there’s not enough room on this couch. And Will and Guy will be back soon. We need to take this upstairs.”

 

Jonny grinned. He loved it upstairs. Chris took his hand and leaded them up the swirly steps. As soon as they walked into the room Jonny pushed Chris onto the bed and jumped on top of him. Chris grinned and grabbed Jonny by his shirt and kissed him hard. Jonny kissed back and wrapped his arms around Chris. Chris slid his tongue in and undid the buttons on Jonnys shirt and threw it across the room. He felt Jonnys chest and heard Jonny groan. He rolled over so that he was on top and kissed Jonny’s neck and sucked at his collarbone. He slid a hand down to Jonny’s pants, unzipped, and discarded them as quickly as possible. Meanwhile Jonny reached a hand down Chris’ boxers and rubbed him hard. Chris closed his eyes and moaned. Jonny smiled and pulled Chris closer to him. It was Jonnys turn to take Chris’ clothes off now, which wasn’t hard considering he was only wearing boxers. He kissed him roughly, he felt Chris’ erection against his thigh and bucked his hips at it. He heard Chris moan again. Jonny removed his boxers and now there was no barrier of clothing between them, it was just skin touching skin. Chris secretly loved the way Jonny’s skin felt. It was smooth and soft. He took a moment to feel Jonny’s chest, his arms, his back. He kissed Jonny’s neck as he did this. He smelled him. He smelled like maple syrup and honey. He stopped.

 

“How come I didn’t get any pancakes?” Chris said.

 

“Hmm? Wha?” Jonny opened his eyes.

 

“You made pancakes. Why didn’t I get any?”

 

“Do you really want to have to have this conversation now?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Jonny sighed, pushed Chris off of him, and sat on the edge of the bed.

 

“There was only enough batter for one person.” he said as he pulled his boxers on.

 

“You could have at least shared.” Chris sat up.

 

“Chris, only you would care about something like that at a time like this.” Jonny had his pants on and was standing up.

 

“And only you would love me for it.” Chris grinned at him.

 

Jonny said nothing but smiled at him and picked up his shirt. He never could stay mad at him for long. Chris smiled back, laid down, and decided to go to sleep.

There was the sound of a door opening and closing downstairs. Will and Guy were back.

 

That bastard better not go sleep walking naked again…..

 

Jonny put his shirt on and left the room.

 

 

Sorry for the slow update, you guys, I've been really busy with homework and stuff, not enough time to write. :sweatdrop:

 

How Long Before I Get In??, chapter 2

ps it has sex :sweatdrop: :sneakyjoe:

 

 

We had talked about our plan. So, Chris asked the plane driver, Carlton, to drive the plane over to the houseboat Guy and I shared. Carlton turned the plane into a submarine using some of Coldplay's awesome powers and came to our estuary. We put on some wetsuits and dove into the water quietly (because our plan was a secret).

 

After going through the airlock, we arrived onboard. I was surprised by how lush the band's tour plane was. It was the old Viva La Vida tour plane they used back in 2008, before Guy and I got married. I had almost forgotten how expensive everything was. On the inside was dark red carpet, with a diamond chandelier hanging from the ceiling. To my left was a wooden table. It had a clock on it.

 

After taking in all of these details, I settled in on the couch, next to the stripper pole. "Gee, it sure is boring here," said Chris, sounding bored. "I wonder what we could do."

 

"I know!" said Will cleverly. "Why don't we get Guy's wife to strip for us on the stripper pole while we drive over to Guenyth's house underwater??"

 

"Ooh, that's a good idea," said Guy sneakily. I pretended to not want to strip for a while to play hard-to-get. But Jonny used his left testicle to convince me and I did.

 

Slowly I removed each article of clothing I was wearing, starting with my left X&Y-tour earring. Seductively I threw it to Jonny, who caught it and watched me intently. Once the shirt came off I think was when most of them got erections, so I got on the stripper pole and started being a stripper on it. My legs gracefully intertwined with the cold metal as I put on a show for the ogling band. "Do you like this?" I asked as I unstrapped my bra.

 

"Yes," replied Chris cheerfully.

 

"That's good," I giggled, "because I'm about to pounce like a sexual tigress on Guy right... about... NOW!"

 

Guy giggled in a very feminine & adorable way and I leapt off the stripper pole onto his shoulder, which knocked him over with a thump to the rich red carpet. Slowly I reached down to unzip Guy's pants. "That's good," he said, "my large penis was starting to hurt in my sexy tight Calvin Klein boxors and sexy ripped jeans." Jonny started masturbating.

 

After Guy was completely undressed I removed my pants and panties, and started having sex with him. "Oh," he said sexually.

 

Then Jonny accidentally had an orgasm all over Guy's face. "Silly Jonny," Chris giggled, "you're supposed to orgasm away from the face. Unless it's me," he said, and then he ran over to Jonny, pushed him against the plane wall, and started kissing his tongue. Guy peered over casually as I rode his hard cock, wiping semen from his brow and eating it. Chris undid Jonny's zipper with his tongue and started moving his tongue up and down Jonny's hard penis.

 

"Jonny, you shouldn't have orgasmed all over Guy's face," I said protectively. "Come over here, I should punish you."

 

"Oh boy!" said Jonny, while looking sexy, "this should be almost as good as eating a Jaffa cake!"

 

So he came over, right after Guy orgasmed with a strangled moan, and I leapt up and stood next to Jonny. I always pee a little after I orgasm so I got Guy to lick my ear in a really sexy way and I peed all over Jonny's hard member as I orgasmed, to punish him. But the silly little boy just orgasmed again. Too cute.

 

"Hey, what about me?" asked Chris with a pout.

 

"Oh, sorry, all of us have orgasmed already and we're tired. Maybe you could have sex with nasty Will instead," Guy suggested. Will winked sexily and started untangling his purple scarf and taking off his pink shirt.

 

"Eww," said Chris. "Well I guess you'll have to do."

 

We fell asleep and Chris and Will had some sex.

 

The next morning, we had arrived at Bitch Guenyth's house. We were ready for our plan.

 

 

Death and All His Friends

 

 

 

It was May. The time of year when things warm up and blossom in preparation for summer. Brown turns to green, and gray turns to blue. Rain fills the world, but only for a short while. Then the sun comes out, and the children play in the streets, their parents watching joyously from afar.

 

It started in April. Five weeks of nonstop, no holds barred guerrilla warfare. Seemingly every country on the planet took part. Bombs dropped every few minutes, and a dusty cloud of smoke clogged the air. Bodies, both dead and alive, were strewn across the ground. No one was safe, and after a few short days it became every man for himself. Even the children weren't protected from the violent attacks on mankind. The cause of the war was unknown, but by this point it was insignificant anyway.

 

Just down the road from a small bridge in London was a collapsed apartment building. The building had been home to many occupants, namely one Chris Martin. When the building was crashed into by a small aircraft, it fell in an instant. A simple blink would have caused any onlooker to miss it. One minute the building was fine, the people inside sitting in the misled comfort of their dwellings, and literally two seconds later it was gone. Of course, in a world like this, no one dared to blink.

 

Chris saw the whole thing. He had just returned from a trip down the road to see his friend, who he was afraid had been killed, and as he looked up at the building, preparing to cross the street, it collapsed. He threw the box he was holding (given to him by the aforementioned friend) and ran to help anyone who had survived. He could hear the cries of a few younger children, probably no older than five years, but they remained faceless throughout his search. A few other kind pedestrians lent their hands as well, but not even a group of the strongest men in the world could help the victims. It was a lost cause.

 

With nowhere else to go, Chris returned to his friend's house. On any other occasion, he'd have thanked his stars to be alive, to not have been in that building at the time of the crash. He wasn't thankful, though. Really, surviving anything in this world did no more good than dying. You might make it past one explosion, past one missed bullet, but there's no saying that another one wont find its way to you five seconds later. He forgot the box on the street, though by the time he remembered it had probably been snatched up already. People will take anything they can get their hands on when they have almost nothing left, even if they're not sure what something is. If they see it just laying there, and no one else has taken it, it's theirs.

 

It was just a box of mementos anyway. A few souvenirs remnant from the early days of his band. They were nice to have, but completely useless and an awful encumbrance in this age. He still had his band members anyway, and that was enough. As long as they made it through everything together, or perhaps stuck together in death, then Chris was satisfied. As long as they were together.

 

But two of his band mates he hadn't spoken to in weeks. Guy Berryman, the devilishly handsome bassist, was somewhere in the deserts of Africa, hiding from the Egyptian soldiers and turning tricks in the local village for food. Without his looks, he'd have starved or probably been killed in a matter of days. As a drummer, Will Champion had an acute sense of rhythm, and was able to lead a vast group of troops around the English countryside in hopes of defending his homeland. They'd been successful on a number of occasions, so Chris wasn't too worried about him. Regardless, they'd still not spoken to each other since just after the war started.

 

He and Jonny stayed together, though. They had to. Jonny Buckland, the sweet and generous guitar player, was the only person Chris ever really loved. He could deal without contact between Guy and Will and himself, but if he went a day without talking to Jonny he'd panic. It's not that he didn't think Jonny could survive on his own, just that he wanted to make sure that Jonny was alive at all times. If anything did happen to him, then Chris would definitely not take any precautions to stay alive. Hell, he'd probably walk out into open fire without thinking twice.

 

So he and Jonny stayed together, just down the road from each other. Every day Chris walked from his apartment to Jonny's, until it collapsed, of course. Then they shared Jonny's apartment. They rarely went outside, even though there was no guarantee that staying inside would be safer. They just didn't feel the need to make contact with the outside world.

 

“Jonny, do you remember that plan we came up with, last week I think?” Chris asked as he and Jonny sat on the floor of the apartment one day, eating what was probably their dinner.

 

“You mean... if things don't work out?” Jonny vaguely asked as he swallowed a bit of his food. Chris swirled his fork around in the bowl of rice he had. Rice was mostly all they could eat. All they could find to eat.

 

“What if we just did it now?” Chris suggested. Jonny placed his own bowl down on the floor and moved over to where Chris was sitting. He looked deeply into Chris's eyes and nodded.

 

“We... we could. What about Guy and Will?”

 

“I've been thinking it over, and... there's no guarantee we'll see them again, even after all of this ends. If it ends,” he added. “I just think that there's really no point in doing all of this anymore.”

 

Jonny sat silently for a few moments, thinking. Eventually he nodded again and said, “Tomorrow, then?”

 

“Tomorrow's good.” Chris shoved aside his bowl, too sick to eat now. Everything was so hard to grasp. Never in his thirty-two years of existence did he think that something like this would happen. That some situation would put him in such distress that he would even consider doing what he and Jonny were about to do.

 

The next day they took the five minute walk to the small bridge. The water below it was murky and had been tinted red with blood. Countless numbers of bodies had fallen into the river, but almost all of them had been carried away, leaving behind only a hint of color. Chris and Jonny both stood next to the railing, looking down. As far as either of them knew, the only people who had taken the journey down were those who had not done so on purpose. Until now.

 

“I can't believe we're doing this,” Jonny said as he grabbed Chris's hand.

 

“What else are we gonna do, Jonny? There's nothing left here worth staying for, and... I have faith. We'll be together forever now, and nothing can potentially destroy that.” Chris lifted his arm and kissed Jonny's hand. “We'll be safe, love.”

 

“Let's do it.” Chris climbed the step of the railing, and when he balanced himself he held his hand out to help Jonny up. Once Jonny stood beside him, Chris closed his eyes. Then he opened them back and kissed Jonny as passionately as he could.

 

“Just in case,” he whispered as he linked arms with Jonny. “Here goes nothing. On three?”

 

“One...”

 

“... two...”

 

Just as a giant van came bustling down the road, they both shouted, “Three!” and leapt forward.

 

------

 

The pearly gates of Heaven where nothing like Chris had imagined. Nothing bad, though; they were actually pearlier than he had ever dreamed. He couldn't believe he was actually there, that all those years of preaching he heard had not been incorrect after all. He stood, mouth agape, marveling at the sight before him. For a second he didn't realise that Jonny wasn't with him. He didn't think much of it, though, and just passed it off as nothing.

 

“Excuse me, sir,” a voice said. A boisterous man with long brown hair and an eye patch stood to the left of Chris, his hands clasped together in a friendly sort of way. He was wearing billowing black pants and a white shirt that seemed to ruffle a bit. He was also smiling, and his gap-toothed grin frightened Chris a little. “Welcome.”

 

“Thanks,” Chris said. He tried to hold back his thoughts, but it proved to be an impossible task in the afterlife. “Are you a... pirate?”

 

The man simply laughed. “No, but I get that a lot. Name's Pete.”

 

“Oh. I'm Chris.”

 

“Yeah, I know,” Pete said. “Listen, from the minute we've spent together chatting, and from the years I've watched you from up here, you seem like a nice guy.”

 

“Well, thank you.”

 

“But you don't belong here.” Pete placed a giant hand on Chris's shoulder and led him to a small podium. A paper was laying on top of the surface, and Chris immediately understood what he meant.“See this? This is my list.”

 

“I'm not on it,” Chris somberly said. “It's because I was with Jonny, wasn't it?”

 

“No, no,” Pete reassured him. “Love is love, we don't care about that.” Chris breathed a sigh of relief. “It's because you killed yourself. That actually is frowned upon.”

 

At that very moment, everything came crashing down on Chris. His mind was completely overwhelmed by the prior events of his life and now death. He and Jonny jumped so they could escape the horrors of the previous world and be together in the next. Now, because of that, he wasn't allowed in. And suddenly, Jonny's absence became so much more important.

 

“Where's Jonny?” he asked.

 

“I'm sorry, I can't answer any more of your questions,” Pete apologized. “It's time for you to leave.”

 

“Leave and go where?”

 

“I think you know the answer to that. Sorry, Chris.”

 

Everything turned white, and the picture of Pete and his pearly gates faded. There was just nothing. It was like this for what Chris felt was a few minutes. During that time, he thought about what had happened. He killed himself. He was in the afterlife now. He wasn't allowed into Heaven. Most importantly, he had no clue where Jonny was.

 

Maybe Jonny had gotten there first? And he would have been denied, too. So... wherever this next place was gonna be, which Chris was pretty sure he knew where, Jonny would probably be there when he arrived, smiling and being as gorgeous as he always was. Their afterlife wouldn't be as ideal as they planned, but they'd still be together.

 

The white flickered into black. There was still nothing. Nothing visible, anyway.

 

“Chris, Chris! My main man,” a booming voice said.

 

“Main man?” Chris asked.

 

“Welcome,” the voice announced, and suddenly everything was lit up. A man with fiery red hair and piercing yellow eyes, sitting recumbently on a sort of throne, spoke, “To my domain.”

 

Chris looked around. Hell was nothing like he thought it would be. It actually didn't seem so bad. There weren't any people being tortured, there weren't any giant parties of flames dancing around and heating up the place. In fact, there wasn't much of anything. Besides Chris and Satan, no one else was around. They were on some sort of platform, Satan sitting in his throne, and everything else was just darkness.

 

“This is it?” Chris asked, still looking around.

 

“I'm a very simple man, yes,” Satan chuckled. Chris thought it was odd for a man like that to do such a thing. “Now, onto more pressing matters. You're here.”

 

“Yes, I am.” Satan flashed him a devious smile.

 

“I know what you want to ask, Chris, and I have your answer.”

 

“Where is he?”

 

“Not here,” he laughed. “Obviously.”

 

“Where is he?” Chris repeated, trying not to lose his patience.

 

“A place I think you're very familiar with.”

 

“Where?”

 

“Why should I tell you?” Satan asked, crinkling his nose. “What's in it for me?”

 

“Right... I don't have anything. You can't take my soul, right, because I'm already here?”

 

“A very true point you've made, Chris.” He sat up a bit in his throne, which Chris could now see was black with red satin draped over the seat. “I can't take your soul. But I can do something else.”

 

Chris swallowed. Naturally, he was quite intimidated. “What's that?” Satan once again flashed his devious smile.

 

“I can challenge you to the most testing of games. If you win, I'll tell you where he is and maybe even let you see him. If I win,” he said, standing up and walking over to Chris, “well, you'll see.” He gave a quick wink.

 

“Fine.”

 

“Excellent,” Satan grinned.

 

--------

 

“That's not fair!” Satan yelled. “You cheated!”

 

“I did not!” Chris yelled back.

 

“It's all that yoga you do. You had an unfair advantage.”

 

“How is that unfair? You're Satan, surely you could have made it so I'd lose!”

 

“I... I could have,” Satan replied. “But that would also be cheating.”

 

“I don't see why you'd choose to play Twister, anyway,” Chris said. “You could have at least challenged me to Monopoly. I'm horrible at that game.”

 

“Maybe I should have challenged you to shutting the hell up,” Satan retorted. “You'd have lost that one for sure.”

 

“I probably would have!” Chris agreed. “Anyway, will you please tell me where Jonny is?”

 

Satan sighed. “I still think you cheated... but fine.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Earth.”

 

“Earth?” Chris dumbly repeated.

 

“Earth. University College Hospital in London, to be precise.” Remarking Chris's vacant stare, he added, “He's still alive.”

 

“He...” Chris couldn't speak. His mouth had gone completely dry.

 

“He survived the fall. A group of people passing by saw you two, realized he was still alive, and took him to the hospital. I think he's still in a coma, actually.”

 

“No... no...” Chris repeated. “But we're supposed to... to be together.”

 

“You wanted to be together,” Satan corrected. “If you were supposed to be together, you'd be together.”

 

“So, what, then? I just stay here, and Jonny stays there, and we'll never see each other again?” Chris cried.

 

What is this? Satan thought. This kid comes in, crying about his lost love, and you're gonna feel sorry for him? Who do you think you are, Jesus?

 

“It looks that way,” he said. Dammit... if he doesn't stop crying I'm gonna have to punch him... Ah, who am I kidding? Then I'll feel worse.

 

“Is this my punishment?”

 

“I suppose so.” Don't do it. Don't feel bad for him. If you do it, I'll hit you.

 

Chris sniffed, wiping away the tears from his eyes. “But what about when Jonny dies?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“When he dies, wont he end up here, too? So then I'll get to see him.”

 

Without thinking, Satan said, “You could see him now.” Shit! Aggravated with himself, Satan closed his eyes and felt his hand smack hard into his face.

 

“I could?”

 

Satan took a few moments to accurately prepare his response. He wasn't going to make any more slip-ups. “It is possible for you to return to Earth for a short period of time to visit him. You wont be alive, mind, and no one will be able to see you, but it is possible.”

 

“You wouldn't want to let me go, would you?” Chris asked, the hope building up inside of him. To see Jonny again would be so wonderful, even if they couldn't interact.

 

“Rematch,” Satan said. “We play one more game, and you can go if you win.”

 

“Do I get to pick what we play?”

 

“Of course not!”

 

“Well... OK,” Chris said, defeated. “But just remember, you'll probably lose if we play Twister again.”

 

 

Death and All His Friends

 

 

 

Forty minutes later, after a rousing game of Battleship, Chris was being sent back to Earth. His second victory had not come as much of a surprise to Satan, though he was still reluctant to send Chris back. In the end, though, his tiny portion of kindness got the better of him.

 

When Chris landed, he was on top of the bridge where he and Jonny had jumped. It was weird now to look at the water and think that some of that blood was his. He wondered just how long it had been since he died, and if the people who had taken Jonny to the hospital had taken his body as well. Probably not.

 

He only had a vague idea of where the hospital was. He'd never been there before, but he recalled passing it every day that he drove to his parents' house. His parents... they'd be so disappointed if they knew he ended up going to Hell. As he began to walk down the bridge, he felt a twinge of guilt. Of course, there was no way that they would find out. Even if they were dead, there was probably very little chance of them finding out Chris's whereabouts.

 

It took him nearly two hours to walk to the hospital. Along the way he watched the world around him, witnessed several murders and was oddly glad that he killed himself. The world was not meant to be in such a state. Or maybe it was. Maybe this was all some sort of divine intervention. He kinda hoped it wasn't.

 

The doors of the hospital were open, but Chris soon found that it didn't matter. As he was not alive, he was not tangible, and could therefore drift through any obstacle that got in his way. Like doors.

 

Jonny's room was on the second floor, tucked away behind the sea of stretchers lining the hallways and holding a wave of various injured people. The room was nearly empty, save for Jonny's bed and the few machines he was hooked up to. Chris had no idea what any of the numbers or symbols on the machines meant, but he assumed that Jonny was at least alive. Several of his limbs were poorly wrapped in makeshift casts, and his face was torn with lacerations. Chris cautiously moved towards his body. Despite all the cuts and bruises, to him Jonny still looked beautiful. He reached out to touch the face of his love, only to be sadly reminded of the fact that he wasn't real.

 

“I'm sorry, Jonny,” he whispered. “None of this was meant to happen. We were supposed to die together. If I knew you were gonna survive... I just wanted everything to be OK.”

 

“It is OK, Chris,” Jonny's voice said. But Jonny was still unconscious, and his mouth hadn't moved at all.

 

“Jonny?”

 

“Don't blame yourself, it's not your fault.”

 

“It was my idea.”

 

“And I went along with it. Because I wanted to be with you. Neither of us could control what happened.”

 

“Does it hurt?”

 

“I don't know, I can't feel anything.”

 

“Where are you?”

 

“Turn around.” Chris turned, and behind him was Jonny, standing upright and looking as he had before they parted. Chris slowly walked over to him.

 

“Are you real?” he asked.

 

“As real as you are.” Chris took a second to think this over, before remembering that he wasn't real. Which meant Jonny wasn't either. He took a chance and threw himself at Jonny, wrapping his arms around him and holding him tight.

 

“Oh, Jonny!” he said as Jonny returned his embrace. “Wait... what does this mean?”

 

“I'm not sure, but... I don't think I'll last much longer,” Jonny replied. No sooner than the words left his mouth did an alarming beeping noise protrude from the machines on the other side of the room. A few nurses dressed in their scrubs ran in and tried to preform a number of resuscitations, but to no avail. Chris and Jonny watched on as the nurses called time of death.

 

“I guess you were right,” Chris said.

 

Suddenly, everything went black. Chris spun around and felt the air surrounding him, but there was nothing there. Panic set in once again. He got to see Jonny, which was what he wanted, and he was glad that he did. He would have been upset to never see Jonny again after that, but he would have been much more OK with that if he had gotten the chance to say goodbye. After all, that's what he went back to Earth to do. Now he was just in this oblivion, alone and confused. He had been jerked away from the living world, and even though Jonny had died, they were still not together. Chris wasn't even sure where he was. Everything was pitch black.

 

Was he back in Hell? It would have made some sense, but he thought that by now Satan would have revealed himself again. Or maybe he wouldn't get the chance to meet up with Satan again. Perhaps this was his Hell. Emptiness and confusion. He wondered where Jonny had gone to; if Jonny was also in total darkness.

 

Then, out of pure hope, he gathered his air and shouted a tumultuous, “Jonny!” But there was no answer. Chris sank down into himself as he lost his hope. He wanted to let the tears drop from his eyes, but they wouldn't come. Complete emptiness.

 

A gust of wind came from nowhere and ruffled Chris's curls. Chris stood still. Another gust rushed past him. He stood still. A third gust came and knocked him back until he was just flying. Flying through the darkness.

 

He landed a short while later, on the darkness, it seemed. There was something under his feet, but he couldn't see it. He felt it, though, and it felt solid and firm, almost like a road or sidewalk. Or floor. He moved his foot around. The sole of his shoe slid a bit, and he concluded that it must have been some sort of floor. But he still couldn't see it.

 

Another wind, or perhaps the same wind that pushed him, brought an object to his feet. It was a paper, folded horizontally and stamped with a Chris~. He bent down to reach the paper, but he couldn't grab it. He tried again. The paper just slipped through his hand.

 

His panic and confusion, along with his slightly tired state, caused him to easily loose his patience. “What is this, some kind of sick joke?” he screeched into the darkness. He didn't honestly expect an answer, and he didn't get one, either. His last attempt at grabbing the paper was a fail, and as soon as his hand passed through, the sheet set itself on fire. And just like that, it was gone.

 

The fire left a mark, though, on the floor. It was yellow and scuffed a bit. Chris realised this must have been the floor. Only a small portion of it was visible. He moved his foot into the spot, and as he did so the color spread. It spread as far as it could, until everything was yellow. Chris temporarily forgot his panic and chuckled at the coincidence.

 

Chris took a few steps and wondered if there was anything else to be discovered. The yellow was no more calming than the darkness had been. If only he had any small clue as to where his was, he might have been a bit happier.

 

A boisterous laugh emerged from the distance. The hope that Chris had lost found its way back into his body.

 

“Hello?” Chris called out.

 

“Hey, man,” a voice said. It sounded familiar, but Chris couldn't exactly put his finger on it.

 

“Who are you?”

 

“Come on, you don't recognize your good old friend?” the voice laughed.

 

“No, I don't.”

 

“Don't be so serious man, this is the afterlife, remember? Take a chill pill.”

 

“Do you know where Jonny is?”

 

“Jonny?” More laughing. “Of course. But do you know where Jonny is?” Chris had the sudden vision of a drunk man stumbling around somewhere as he conversed with Chris. Maybe it was his uncle.

 

“No, if I knew where Jonny was I wouldn't be asking you.”

 

“Of course you wouldn't,” the voice said. “Very reasonable argument. You'd like to see him again?”

 

“Yes, please,” Chris said.

 

“I think I can arrange that,” the voice replied. “Listen, I've been watching you some more, and you really are a nice guy. It's a shame.”

 

“What's a shame?” Chris asked. Then, for some reason, he knew exactly who he was talking to. “Pete?”

 

“Hey, how ya doin'?” Pete shouted in Chris's ear as he magically appeared by his side. “Pete's the name, yeah.”

 

“Can you explain to me what's going on?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“... Are you going to explain to me what's going on?”

 

“Not yet. Come on, we've got places to go.” Pete grabbed Chris's arm with his giant hand and pulled him away from his spot. In a fraction of a second, they'd traveled to somewhere completely different. This time there was no emptiness at all. They were in a sort of room still, but it was filled with stacks of oddly shaped boxes. Upon closer inspection, Chris realised these were guitar cases.

 

“Jonny,” Chris said without thinking.

 

“Hmm?” a voice said from behind a nearby stack. “Wait, someone else is here?”

 

“Jonny, I'm here!” Chris shouted. Jonny peeked out from behind the stack. As soon as he saw Chris his jaw dropped.

 

“Oh... Chris...” Jonny ran to Chris and held him tight. “I thought I'd never see you again.”

 

“I know, me too,” Chris said. “But we're here now.”

 

“Yeah, wherever 'here' is.”

 

“Oh, about that!” Pete chimed in. “You guys need to do something for me.”

 

“What's that?” Chris asked.

 

“Look at each other.” Chris and Jonny each set their eyes on the other and smiled. “Now think of one thing. Just one thing.”

 

The guitar-filled room dissolved and gave way to a small town road with a single building standing proudly. Pete had disappeared, too. Chris and Jonny walked up to the building, which they had immediately recognized.

 

“This is our old dorm,” Chris said.

 

“Where we first lived together,” Jonny added.

 

“Is this what you thought of, too?” Chris asked, turning to Jonny. Jonny nodded.

 

“Enjoy, you two,” Pete's voice rang from the sky.

 

“What is this?” Chris asked.

 

“Your afterlife.”

 

“Our afterlife?”

 

“Chris, there is no such thing as a Heaven and Hell. Sorry to break it to you, but it's true. There is, however, an afterlife. Until it's perfect, there may be some slight drawbacks and you might end up being completely miserable, but in the end you stay where your heart desires. And your hearts desired each other. That's what you got. Enjoy.”

 

“Thank you!” Chris shouted, but by then he was certain that Pete was gone. He turned to Jonny and smiled. “It is perfect.”

 

“Come on,” Jonny said, grabbing Chris's arm and leading him towards the entrance of the building. “Let's go spend the rest of our afterlives together.”

 

 

And You carry The One - Chapter 13 (And also the last one.)

 

 

They all looked around the small cavern. It did indeed have pictures of Ol’ Greg. Everywhere.

 

“Uh nice place you have here Greg.” said Jonny looking around.

 

“Yeah. Ol’ Greg wanted to become an artist but then Ol’ Greg decided to become a hermit. Ol’ Greg still likes to draw. I’m Ol’ Greg.” said Ol’ Greg.

 

“Well they’re very nice there Greg. But we have to get going.” said Chris, halfway hiding behind Jonny.

 

“I love you guys. Do you guys love me?” said Ol’ Greg.

 

“Oh crap.” said Will from a corner.

 

“Uh sure Greg. We love you, but we have to get going. We need to buy pants and all that.” said Jonny unsure of whether that was the right thing to say or not.

 

“Don’t lie. Ol’ Greg doesn’t like liars. I’ma hurt you if your lying. I’m Ol’ Greg.”

 

“He’s not lying Greg, we do love you, we just have a very busy schedule at the moment.” said Chris.

 

“Will you promise to visit Ol’ Greg? Ol’ Greg doesn’t get many visitors.” said Ol’ Greg.

 

“Sure Greg.” said Guy.

 

“Alright then. Ol’ Greg says bye. I’m Ol’ Greg. Bye.” said Ol’ Greg.

 

Will went up to Chris and pushed his belly button.

 

“Ow!”

 

The flash of light came back. They all hung on to each other. After a moment they all opened their eyes and saw that they were back in their hotel room.

 

“Oh my God…. Can it be?” Will went over and touched a chair.

 

“Yes! We’re back!!!!” He hugged the chair. Chris walked over to the wall. There was a sticky note on it.

 

Hope you had fun. (Insert sarcasm here) Until next time Chris. Bernard, MJ, and Ol’ Greg say see you soon.

- Fred

 

Chris took it off the wall and threw it in the trash. He went over to Guy, who was hugging the chair with Will. Chris poked him.

 

“So what the hell happened when you and Will were with MJ?”

 

 

 

 

Guy and Will's MJ Adventure

 

 

 

Will stared at the limo.

 

Holy crap…. MJ’s in there. What will I say to him?.

 

“Ey, Will, man are you coming? Chris and Jonny left and Michaels waiting.” Guy said waving a hand in front of Wills face.

 

“What? Oh yeah.” he cleared his throat and started walking nervously to the limo. Guy opened the door. Michael was looking out the other side of the window. Will got in.

 

OMG I’m sitting next to him.

 

Guy got in and closed the door. Michael must not have heard them come in because he jumped at the noise. He started looking for something. He found it. He took out a glass bottle with a cork on the top.

 

“You guys want some?” he said.

 

“SEX! I mean…… yes.” Will corrected himself quickly. Guy burst out laughing. Will turned pink.

 

Wow that was smooth Will. Real smooth.

 

“Were fine Michael. But I think Will here could use a little liquid courage. Did you know he’s your biggest fan?”

 

“Shut up Guy!” he elbowed Guy in the ribs.

 

“Ow! You fucker, that hurt.”

 

“Calm down you two.” MJ popped the top and poured a glass for both Guy and Will. Will downed it with one gulp.

 

“Will, take it slow you know how you get when you drink to much.”

 

“No I don’t. How do I get Guy?”

 

MJ laughed.

______________________________________________________

 

They walked into a karaoke bar somewhere downtown. There weren’t many people. They sat at a booth in the far back so as not to be seen. It may have been another dimension, but MJ was too well known. Will went to the bar to get drinks. There was an announcer at the karaoke stage.

 

“Alright so who’s going to come up and sing next? Anyone? No? How bout you sir? No? Oh forget this. I hate my life. I quit!” he threw a chair against the wall, and stormed out.

 

“What’s up with that guy?” said Guy.

 

“He does that on Tuesdays. If your surprised now you should see what he does Wednesdays. What’s up with your friend? He‘s…. odd.” said MJ.

 

“He’s just real nervous. Your like his God or something. He really loves your music. I should warn you though, when he gets nervous he gets drunk, when he’s drunk he’s a pain in the ass to manage.”

 

“Alright then…” MJ shifted uneasily when Will came back with a tray full of drinks and sat, a little to closely, to Guy.

 

“Will, I think that’s a little much……” said Guy staring at the drinks. But Will wasn’t listening, he was already pouring himself a drink. Guy got an idea.

____________________________________

 

Will was swaying in his seat and starting to get all touchy with Guy.

 

“You know I love you, right Guy? Oh and you to MJ I love you also. I love you guys, if you weren‘t aaallll the way across the table MJ I‘d give you guys a group hug. Why are you so far away?” he said, slurring his words. He reached across the table. MJ backed up against the booth.

 

“Uh… hey Will, why don’t you go up and sing a song?” said Guy.

 

“No, no, no. I can’t sing.” Will said with a confused look on his face.

 

“Aww come on. You’re a great singer. Sing Barbie Girl.” said Guy pushing him to get out of the booth.

 

“Well, ok then.” Will got another drink and made his way up to the stage, tripping over the chair the announcer threw as he got there.

 

“Umm hi, I’m going to sing a nice. Song.” he spit into the microphone. Guy got out his cell phone and started recording it.

 

“I’m a Barbie girl. I’m made up of plastic. It’s very f-fantastic……. In a Barbie world. No. wait. I messed up. I’m a Barbibie girl in a-” he threw up onstage. Guy made sure to save the video for future reference.

 

“Uh, sorry to leave you like this MJ but I’ve got a drunk friend and all. It was nice to meet you. Sorry if we weren’t the best company in the world.” Guy said as he stood up.

 

“Yeah. Go get your friend, I think he’s about to throw up on one of the people near-…. never mind. Nice to meet you guys too, you can take to limo to the hotel if you want. I’ll stay here. ”

 

“Thanks. Oh crap…. Will! Don’t throw up on the nice ladies shoes! Damn it.” Guy ran over to Will and lead him out of the bar.

 

“Guy, I think I threw up…”

 

“I know Will, I know.”

 

They both got into the limo and the driver drove them off to the hotel.

 

 

A Rush of Blood

 

Chapter XVI

 

 

 

Removed, please PM me if you want to read it.

 

Who Knows Why

 

Chapter 1

 

 

"I don't think we should see each other anymore," Chris said.

Jonny leaned back in his chair and looked out the window of the diner.

He rubbed a hand across his face and adjusted his cap.

"Not this shit again," he said.

Chris didn't say anything and he didn't look at Jonny.

He was just tracing little invisible patterns on the cracked vinyl table with his finger.

"It's been two years since we got together," Jonny said, "No one knows anything."

Chris bit the edge of his lip and looked at Jonny.

"It's not that," he said, "I'm not afraid anymore. As a matter of fact, I don't give a fuck one way or another what people know."

Jonny looked at him with confused eyes.

"What then?" he asked.

"Can't you just accept that this is what I want?" Chris asked.

Jonny reached across the table and took Chris' hand.

Chris looked at their two hands joined together and slowly pulled his away from Jonny's grasp.

"I love you," Jonny told him, "I won't let you go."

Chris put both hands over his face and sighed deeply.

"I know you love me too," Jonny said.

"Jonny, please...." Chris looked at him with large, sad eyes.

Large, sad eyes. But they were cold eyes.

"What's happened?" Jonny asked, "You look different."

Chris shrugged his thin shoulders.

"I don't know," he said, drawing his jacket up around him, "I just....I just...don't.."

"Don't what?" Jonny asked.

"I don't love you anymore, Jon. I'm sorry. But there just isn't anything there anymore."

Jonny laughed.

Partly because is seemed like one of those bad jokes that Chris liked to pull and partly because it kept him from screaming.

"Just like that..."Jonny said, "All of a sudden...nothing."

Chris shook his head.

"It's been this way for a few months. I kept hoping that it would change. I kept hoping that the feelings would come back. Some of them. Any of them..but..I just don't feel anything for you anymore."

Jonny didn't move.

"Well," he finally said, "I suppose I should find some other place to live then."

Chris nodded.

"Yes," he said, "You should. As soon as possible."

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

 

"Do you want this?" Jonny asked Chris,holding up a fertility figurine that they had brought home as a souvenir from one of their trips to Africa.

It was a small carved figure that they bought as a joke.

"No," Chris said.

He was staring at the television but not really watching as Jonny packed up his belongings.

"Me either," Jonny said, throwing it into the garbage can with a bit too much force.

Chris flinched a little at the loud noise.

"You don't have to be such a bastard about this," Chris told him.

"Well excuse me if I don't have ice water in my veins like you do," Jonny said.

Chris stood up and flicked off the television.

"I am leaving," he said, "I will be back in a couple of hours. I would really appreciate it if you and your shit were both gone when I get back."

Jonny looked at Chris.

There were three boxes full of his belongings sitting at his feet.

Jonny picked them up one by one and dumped them on the floor of the apartment.

"You have taken everything else from me," he told Chris, "Why don't you keep this stuff too?"

Chris took a deep breath and shoved his hands into his pocket.

Jonny stood looking at him for a moment.

Then he turned to leave.

"Jon?" Chris said.

Jonny stopped with his hand on the doorknob.

"This is it," he thought, "Chris is changing his mind. He does still love me."

Jonny stood perfectly still for what seemed an eternity.

"I need you to leave your key." Chris told him, in a flat emotionless voice.

Jonny walked back to Chris, sliding the key off his keychain.

"Here," he said, slapping the key up against Chris' chest.

Chris looked up at Jonny.

Jonny was shocked by what he saw.

Gone was the sparkle and shine from Chris' pretty blue eyes.

They were so dull and cloudy that it was hard to tell what color they were.

"What is happening to you?" Jonny asked, reaching up to touch Chris on the face.

Chris moved away and pushed Jonny back.

"Nothing, is happening to me,"Chris said, "I just don't love you. Why can't you get that through your thick head?"

"Did I do something?" Jonny asked.

"For God's sake, Jonny, you really sound pathetic. I don't love you. It is that simple. I don't know why. I just don't feel anything when I look at you."

One single tear slowly slid down Jonny's cheek.

"Go to hell," he told Chris.

"I am already there," Chris said.

 

 

 

Who Knows Why

Chapter 3

 

 

"So you and Jonny broke up?" Will asked.

"Yep," Chris said, sipping coffee from his Flaming Lips coffee mug.

"What happened?" Will asked.

Chris set his cup down and began to pour more sugar into it.

"I wish I knew," he said, tiredly.

"So there isn't anybody else then?" Will asked.

Chris half-smiled.

"No," he said, "I could never love anybody but Jonny and now I can't even love him."

"He is pretty crushed about all of this," Will told him.

The black circles under Chris' eyes seemed to deepen as Will talked.

"I want to love him again," Chris said, "If I could love him by sheer force of willpower then I would...but...nothing."

Will sat quietly listening.

"Maybe you need to see a doctor," Will told him.

"And some doctor is going to give me a pill to make me love Jonny again?" Chris asked.

Will laid a thumb across his mouth as he thought.

"No," he told Chris, "Maybe there is something physically wrong with you. You look like absolute hell."

Chris sighed deeply.

"I feel like absolute hell," he said, "I can't sleep. I can't eat. I can't do anything. I just sit in the corner in the dark and wonder where the love went."

"I think there is something you need to know," Will said, touching Chris on the arm.

"What?" Chris asked.

Will had a strange expression on his face.

"What?" Chris asked again.

"Jonny is dating again."

The words should have made an impression on Chris.

The words should have crushed him or upset him at least.

The words should have angered him as he rose up in denial.

The words should have stabbed him in the heart and curdled his soul.

But instead, the words brought Chris a small degree of comfort and release.

"Good," he said, "I think that is a good thing."

Will's hand was still resting on Chris' arm and he was struck by the cold, clammy feel of his skin.

"Jonny is a wonderful guy and a great catch," Will told him.

"I know," Chris said, staring into his cup.

"He won't be alone for long," Will cautioned.

"I know," Chris said.

"You will regret this decision," Will warned.

"Possibly," Chris said, "But I don't want him around if I can't love him the way he should be loved. He deserves better than that."

 

 

 

Chapter 4

 

 

"So..what are you going to do?" Guy asked Jonny as they were driving to a football match.

Jonny shrugged.

"She really wants to get married."

"And what about you?" Guy asked.

"It doesn't really matter to me one way or the other," Jonny said.

"Well that's hardly a great way to start a life together," Guy told him.

"I know," Jonny said, fiddling with his cap, "I should be more enthusiastic. She is smart and sweet and very pretty."

"But?" Guy asked.

"Well, hell Guy....you know....she isn't Chris."

Guy reached over and patted Jonny on his thigh.

"You have to get past that," he said, "You and Chris are history."

Jonny grinned sadly.

"Maybe Chris and I are over and maybe he doesn't love me, but I will always be in love with him."

Guy stopped as the traffic light turned red.

"You are only torturing yourself," Guy said, "You have to accept how things are."

"That sounds so easy," Jonny told him, "I just keep hoping....and then I have these dreams....God, the dreams.."

Guy looked at Jonny quickly because of the extreme pain in his voice.

"The dreams...." Jonny continued, "Night after night....I hate going to sleep. I dream that Chris and I.."

The signal light flashed green and Guy sped away.

"Anyway......" Jonny said, trying desperately to regain his composure, "I am thinking of marrying this girl."

"This girl?" Guy asked, "Can't you even say her name?"

Jonny looked out the window and then he stared at Guy.

"Geez..." he said, "I can't even remember her name."

"Her name is Leigh," Guy told him.

Jonny closed his eyes and murmured the name to himself several times.

"Yeah," he finally said, "Her name is Leigh."

"I thought you said it doesn't matter to you," Guy reminded him.

"It doesn't...so if that's what she wants then why not do it?"

"Why don't you at least talk to Chris first?" Guy asked, "It's been a few weeks. Maybe things are different now."

Jonny shook his head.

"No," he said, "I couldn't stand it. I could not stand for him to look at me with that blank dead look again."

"Look," Guy said, "Maybe at least you can get your friendship back."

"I don't want a friendship with him," Jonny said, "Not after how we were. That's too much to contemplate."

 

 

 

Who Knows Why

Chapter 5

 

 

The door to the little room stood slightly ajar but Chris knocked anyway.

"Come in," Jonny said, as he stood at the mirror trying to fix his tie.

In the reflection of the mirror, Jonny saw Chris walk into the room.

He turned around quickly.

"Hi," Chris said.

Jonny's throat had a lump so big that he couldn't squeeze out any sound so he just nodded.

"You look really nice," Chris said.

Jonny looked down at the tuxedo he was wearing and self-consciously reached up to his head to smooth down his hair.

"Thanks," he finally said, "I can't seem to get this tie right though."

Chris walked slowly to Jonny and examined the tie.

"Here's your trouble," he said, readjusting some fabric.

"Thanks," Jonny said.

He could hardly breathe with Chris standing so close and looking so elegant in his own tuxedo.

"I am glad that you came," Jonny told him.

Chris stepped back a bit and tried to smile at him.

"It seemed like the right thing to do," Chris said.

"I always thought it would be us....doing this wedding thing," Jonny said.

Chris looked down and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"I know," he said, "I always thought that too."

There was silence in the room and Jonny turned back to the mirror.

"She's a wonderful girl," he told Chris.

"I knew she would be if she loved you," Chris told him.

Jonny turned away from the mirror and faced Chris.

"I still love you," he said, bravely.

"Jon..." Chris started to say but Jonny held up his hand for silence.

"I just wanted you to know that. I just wanted you to know that whatever the reason was that it ended, nothing can change how I feel for you."

Chris wanted to cry.

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to hurt.

He wanted to feel desperate.

He just wished he could feel something.

But he didn't.

"It didn't have anything to do with you," Chris told him, "You didn't do anything wrong. You couldn't have prevented it. The love just...just went away. I've tried..God how I have tried to make it come back....but.....it just won't."

Jonny nodded his understanding.

"Will you be okay?" he asked Chris.

"I don't know," Chris said, "I just feel empty and dead inside."

Jonny looked at Chris in the eyes.

The eyes were still so dull and colorless, completely devoid of any spark.

"Will you be okay?" Chris asked Jonny.

"Sure," Jonny said, "What choice do I have?"

 

 

 

Chapter 6

 

 

Some months later Chris was walking down a crowded street in London.

He was exhausted from a long night of trying to write some songs.

It had been raining all day and there were ugly little puddles of slush all over the streets and sidewalks.

He was in a hurry and it seemed as if every person on the street was determined to get in his way.

"Maybe it will help if I jog," he thought.

Chris started to jog slowly through the crowd of people.

"Jonny will be worried if I get home late," he thought.

Chris jogged faster.

"I don't want to worry him for no reason," he thought.

Chris started to run as hard and as fast as he could.

He ran for several blocks until his lungs felt like they would burst.

He ran up the four flights to his apartment and threw open the door.

The apartment was cold and empty and quiet.

In a terrific rush that caused Chris to collapse on the floor, all the events of the past months came back.

Chris lay on the floor in a heap.

He was finally crying.

He was finally hurting.

He was finally feeling.

And it was almost too much to bear.

 

"I can't explain it," the psychologist told Chris, "But it happens every day. You are no different than millions of other people."

"So I am not crazy?" Chris asked.

"Hardly," the man told him, "Love is an intangible but undeniable thing. Most couples go through this. The difference is that some of them are committed to the relationship and some of them aren't."

"And I wasn't committed," Chris said, quietly.

"No, it would seem that you weren't," the doctor agreed.

"And now Jonny is lost to me forever," Chris said, almost to himself.

"I can't tell you that," the doctor said, "That is something that only time will tell."

 

Chris and Jonny met in the park.

Jonny noticed right away that Chris' blue eyes lit up when he smiled at Jonny.

"You seem better," Jonny said.

"Yeah," Chris told him, "So many things have become very clear to me."

"That's good," Jonny said.

They just sat on the bench, not talking. They just looked out at the green grass and the kids playing in the sand.

Chris silently moved his hand close to Jonny's so that their fingers touched.

Jonny didn't do anything for several moments.

Chris' heart stood still while he waited to see if Jonny would move his hand away.

Silently, Jonny intertwined his fingers with Chris' fingers.

And they just sat in silence.

 

The End

 

 

shit posted this in the wrong thread :P

One Day Like This

Chapter 9

 

 

"Alright guys, I booked you a flight for 3:30 and it's 12:30 right now so we should really get going to the airport."

 

"OK off we goooooo" sung Chris with an exaggerated accent.

 

The four men threw their luggage into the trunks of two awaiting taxis. Will climbed into the backseat of the first one, and Phil(to keep an eye on Chris), Jonny and Chris got into the second. The whole drive to the airport, Chris kept on singing. He was in high spirits. He felt confident that they would get Guy to rejoin the band. He sung "I Want You Back" and forced Jonny to sing the harmonies with him.

 

By the time they had reached the airport, the taxi driver was glaring at them as though he would have relished an opportunity to strangle them. For some odd reason, he didn't enjoy the lovely harmonies of Chris and Jonny at all. Even as they exited the taxi, the driver still glared at them. Phil made sure to give him a generous tip. At that point, Chris and Jonny were immersed in their own little world, leaving Will and Phil to happily keep behind and out of their way. They walked a few paces behind, seriously considering what had to be done.

 

Chris might be oblivious and Jonny might be too in love with Chris to give it much thought, but Will knew that despite what he had said earlier about Guy, things between him and that girl were definitely serious. Will could plainly tell that Guy was very firm in his decision. He knew that at the very least, it'd be difficult to convince Guy not to quit. And for a moment, he even wondered if any amount of words would sway him in his decision. But he pushed those thoughts out of his mind quickly. There was no room for doubt, and there certainly wasn't room for more than one emotionally unstable man in their group; Chris already more than covered that position. Besides, they needed Guy, and Guy needed them, even if he didn't think so. They'd convince him; there was no other option.

 

Phil turned towards Will then and started to say something, but then quickly changed his mind and pursed his lips, facing forwards again.

 

His thoughts must've been along the same lines as mine thought Will.

 

Even if Phil chose not to voice them out loud, Will knew Phil was having doubts about the their ability to convince Guy.

 

"We're going to bring him back Phil", whispered Will in his ever calm and level-headed tone.

 

With the exception of occasional angry outbursts, Will was usually a very level-headed man. He preferred reason over immediate reaction. And he knew that Phil was prone to worrying, just like Chris, so he wanted to reassure Phil as much as he possibly could. Phil smiled.

 

"Yeah, of course" he responded, picking up his pace.

 

Probably to make sure Chris and Jonny don't get lost laughed Will to himself, rolling his eyes.

 

It was true though. Chris was horrible with directions, because he never bothered to read any of the signs. Jonny was good with directions, but he would get so caught up in talking to Chris that he wouldn't be paying any mind to where they were going. It had happened many times before, once even causing them to miss their flight. Up ahead, Will saw Phil gesture towards a sign, but Chris still wasn't paying attention so Phil had to actually grab the back of Chris's shirt and pull him in the right direction. Will laughed, louder this time. It was certainly a funny sight. He quickened his pace to catch up with the rest of them.

 

A couple lengthy lines later, they were sitting in the waiting area for flight 309-B. Jonny had his laptop out and was listening to some sort of obscure music as he browsed the internet. Phil was talking on the phone with various members of the crew. He was always arranging and organizing things, exactly the kind of qualities you'd want in a manager, obviously thought Will, giving himself an eye roll. Chris was just sitting, well actually more like bouncing, in his chair. And Will was sitting quietly reading, but kept getting distracted by Chris fidgeting beside him.

 

"Do you mind Chris?" He wasn't being fully serious.

 

"Nope, I don't mind at all Will, your reading isn't bothering me a bit" laughed Chris lightheartedly.

 

He turned toward Jonny then, and seeing the laptop, an idea suddenly came to him.

 

Sitting up suddenly, eyes wide, he exclaimed "If Guy were here he'd be tweeting. So I say we should be tweeting! We can't let the fans down!"

 

"Oooh, let's think of something good to write" said Jonny deviously, pulling the earphones out of his ears.

 

"Oh you guys, really. You're so imamture sometimes" sighed Will.

 

But he was intrigued now, and put down his book in favor of staring at the computer screen.

 

"How about 'Just practicing a little ballet before the flight'?"

 

"No Chris, it still has to be believable."

 

"You're such a killjoy Jonny!".

 

Chris pretended to pout.

 

"I know, how about 'I just watched Mean Girls for the 15th time.' "

 

"Yeah, good one Jon. And then add 'It gets better and better every time I see it.' "

 

"Way to go Will!" laughed Chris, high-fiving him.

 

"Is that supposed to be some sort of great achievement? When was the last time you high-fived me for coming up with a killer drum beat?"

 

They all laughed.

 

"Send the message Jonny, send it, send it!"

 

"I'm sending it! Geez Chris, calm down."

 

"You know, the best part about this is that Guy actually does love that movie."

 

"Well Will, it is a good movie, very well written" remarked Chris, elbowing Will playfully in the side.

 

They had another good laugh at that.

 

Phil returned from the other room then, where he had been taking yet another phone call, and asked "Why do I hear laughing? And why is everyone staring at you guys like you're crazy?"

 

"It's a long story" explained Jonny. "But we sent a tweet from 'Guy'." He used air quotes as he said "Guy".

 

"Aww, I miss out on everything!"

 

Just then, a voice on the loudspeaker barked "Now boarding for flight 309-B."

 

"It's OK Phil, you'll have lots of time to join in on the fun while we're on the plane" said Chris, standing, patting Phil on the back and chuckling.

 

They all boarded the plane in good spirits, but they were quiet now. They were thinking of ways to convince Guy to see the light. They couldn't even imagine an alternative outcome of the band without their bassist and good friend.

 

 

NEW CHAPTER!

 

SPRING & WINTER

chapter 13

 

“So,” said Guy, his words coming out as a tired sigh.

 

“We should get back. It’s getting late.”

 

We were both lying on the dock, soaking up the last rays of the afternoon sun. I admit, it was a rather ungentlemanly thing to do, but Guy had worn himself out swimming, and he hadn’t wanted to get on his horse. Instead, after he’d gotten dressed, he’d insisted that we sit for a few minutes. Those few minutes had turned into a good forty-five minutes as we just rested and listened to the sweet sounds of nature.

 

“I don’t want to go back,” he continued, dangling his feet off the edge of the planks. “I like it with you...here,” he said hurriedly. “I like it here...”

 

“Yeah,” I murmured, blushing. “I like it here too. It’s beautiful. Thank you for bringing me.” Guy picked himself up and rested on his elbows. He looked at me, grinning.

 

“Don’t play along, Christopher. You were truly embarrassed at the beginning. I do apologize for that.”

 

“Oh, it’s nothing,” I choked out, blushing even more deeply.

 

Guy laughed. “Yes, all right. Let’s go home, shall we?” He jumped to his feet, offered me his slender hand, and I used it to pull myself up. Guy winced slightly, and I tried to decide if I’d imagined what I’d just seen.

 

“Are you all right?” I asked hesitantly.

 

“Oh, of course,” said Guy, obviously trying to change the subject. “You’re just heavy is all.”

 

“Right, of c…” I trailed off when I caught a glimpse of his face. He was staring at the dock, his eyes scanning different parts of it in an erratic sequence. “What are you doing?” He coughed nervously and looked up into my eyes, but I got the feeling that he was just looking through me, pretending I wasn’t there.

 

“Don’t be so concerned, Chris,” he said, brushing past me. His dark horse with the long mane tossed its elegant head at his approach. When I walked up to my chestnut mare, she merely snorted at me. I grimaced and looked around at the trees. The lowering sun was casting golden rays through the canopy of leaves, and it looked heavenly. I decided that I would write about it when I got home. The air smelled like honeysuckle, and the crickets were beginning to chirp. Summer was on its way, not doubt about that.

 

“Summer’s nearly here,” said Guy, to my left.

 

“You read my mind. It is gorgeous.”

 

“Not quite as gorgeous as…” he stopped abruptly, and I turned around confusedly. Had he been about to say ‘you’?” Come off it, Chris, that’s just hopeless wishing.

 

“As gorgeous as what?” I prompted.

 

“My old home. In Scotland,” he said evenly. “I miss it sometimes.”

 

“So…how are things going with Joanna?” I asked as we headed down the trail home. Guy paused a lot, taking time to answer my many questions. Certain answers he seemed very touchy about and I didn’t want to push him, so we spent a large portion of the ride in silence. It was so odd that he had been in such good spirits when we had gone swimming, but was now nothing short of moody. “What the hell is wrong with you, man?” I snapped suddenly.

 

“I…what do you mean?” he huffed defensively.

 

“You’re more emotional than a girl of thirteen. Pray tell, what did I say or do that has upset you so much?”

 

“I have just realized that I may have to marry a girl whom I don’t even care for! I would rather join the bloody armed forces than stay at home with her.”

 

“Well, whom do you love, then?” I said, examining the sky above our heads instead of looking at him. I wanted to take on an air of indifference, but that was very difficult to do, since I could feel my heart beating jealousy in to my veins with each contraction.

 

Guy was quiet for a moment. “She has hair the color of gold.”

 

“…And?”

 

“She has eyes that resemble the bluest of skies. Only her eyes are far more beautiful.”

 

I bit my tongue. “What else? Is she kind?”

 

“Very much so. She is a loving and sweet-tempered. But you see…she thinks of me only as a friend and nothing more. She will never return my feelings.”

 

I finally couldn’t help turning to stare at him. Could he really be talking about me? Please, God. I want him to be speaking of me, but I don’t want him to at the same time. Please make these horrid feelings just go away. Strike me down if you have to. Kill me now, because I know I can never be with this man.

 

“What is her name?” I whispered.

 

He smiled bitterly. “You don’t know her, friend.”

 

“But what is her name?” I pressed.

His hair seemed to form a protective curtain around his eyes. “Madeline.”

 

“French, is she?”

 

“Maybe,” was all he said.

 

 

The 5 Stages Of Grief

 

Stage 1

 

 

Denial - (noun) refusal to admit the truth or reality

 

10 months ago.

 

Never had I thought I would ever hear those 3 words. At least not all in the same sentence. I didn’t believe them when I heard them.

 

“Chris is dead.”

 

I heard those words and I laughed. I laughed. This is surely some kind of sick joke I thought. The churning in my stomach and the chills running down my spine told me otherwise. I couldn’t process the words in my head. I thought over and over of their meaning, but it didn’t sink in. Like when you read something in a book over and over but you never really read it. It was Will who told me what happened. It was raining last night. Chris decided to walk home, he never passed up a chance to be in the rain. The streets were filled with water, the rain was heavy. There was a drunk driver on the road, probably trying to get home seeing as it was New Years. Chris was crossing the street when the car had hit him. He was killed on impact, he didn’t feel any pain.

 

“Jonny? You still there?”

 

I stood there for a few more moments. I never answered. I hung up the phone. No. It’s not true. Not Chris. This is only supposed to happen to other people. He couldn’t be dead, I had just seen him last night, at our New Years party. I stared at the wall. I heard the clock ticking. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. I looked at the time. 11:36 AM. I closed and opened my eyes. No, I wasn’t dreaming. I tried to remember what the last thing I said to him was. I couldn’t. To my surprise, I couldn’t remember anything about him. I remembered what he looked like for a few brief seconds, but then he was gone. He faded away. I don’t know how long I stood there trying to remember what he looked like. It felt like hours. I suddenly snapped out of it. I went over and got my keys. He’s not dead I thought. I’ll find him in the bakery writing new lyrics on his piano. I’ll find it was all some kind of cruel joke. He’ll laugh with Will and Guy about how my face looks as I walk in. Yeah. That’s what’ll happen I thought. I’ll all be a joke. I walked out the door and headed for the bakery.

 

 

 

Stage 2

 

 

Anger (noun) - wrath; belligerence aroused by a real or supposed wrong

 

7 months ago.

 

I couldn’t feel anything for the past month. I was numb. I wasn’t any different at his funeral. He was cremated, and had his ashes scattered in the ocean on his favorite beach. He was always so energetic and full of life, there seemed no purpose in putting him in a box, under 6 feet of dirt. I went but I never really felt anything. No sadness, no happiness, no anger, nothing. I still expected him to be there. I went to sleep at night, expecting to be woken up at 2 AM by the phone and the new chord Chris discovered on his guitar, or even a new song he made up about the moon, or cake, or love, or sometimes even toothpaste. But no phone call ever came. I expected to go to the bakery each morning and find him there, passed out on the couch, hugging his guitar as if it was some sort of teddy bear. But no, it was empty. Not much was going on anymore. No Will and his drums, no Guy and his bass, no Chris and his piano. The band had broken up. I still went though. Every single day I went and expected him to be there.

 

One morning I went and he wasn’t there. Suddenly I felt something for the first time in one month. Anger. I was suddenly angry at Chris. Angry that he wasn’t there. Angry that I could no longer see him, hear him, smell him, touch him. Angry at him for deciding to walk by himself that day. But then it wasn’t just Chris I was mad at. I was angry at the driver. The stupid fucking driver who ran him over. I was angry at myself. If I had drove him, this wouldn’t have happened. If only I had driven him. If only I wasn’t such and idiot and hadn’t let him go on his own, he’d still be here. I’d be listening to him laugh, or sing, or even just talk. If only. I wanted to hurt something or someone. I realized I wanted to hurt Chris. Hurt him for making me live without him. I punched the wall as hard as I could. My hand felt like it exploded. I grasped my hand in pain. I hate you I thought. I fucking hate you Chris. If you weren’t such an idiot, I wouldn’t be here right now, I wouldn’t be going through this. I left the bakery and went for a walk to help calm down. I didn’t calm down. I arrived home, and I was still mad as ever.

 

 

 

 

Stage 3

 

 

Bargaining (noun) - negotiating in order to acquire a desired item

 

5 months ago.

 

I knew I couldn’t see him anymore, I knew he was gone. I would have done anything to get him back. I was never the kind of person to ask for anything but I prayed for him back. I pleaded with God to get him back. I said I would change my way of living. I’d give all my money away. I’d cut my own life short, just to have more time with him, too see him again. I woke up in the hospital one day and I didn’t know exactly why I was there. I had 3 broken bones and a sprained ankle. The doctor explained I had tried to jump off my apartments balcony while I was drunk. I had taken to drinking these days. I drunk more some days than others. But I knew it wasn’t the alcohol that drove me to do it. I stayed in the hospital for a couple more days until I was let out. I went to my apartment and collapsed on my bed. I laid there for a few seconds until complete sadness overtook me. I cried for the first time since Chris died. I tried to fight the tears back but they came out anyway.

 

 

 

Stage 4

 

 

Depression (noun) - a condition of general emotional dejection and withdrawal

 

3 months ago.

 

I don’t get as much sleep as I used to. I wake up in the mornings tired, sad, lonely. If I do dream, I usually dream about him. I don’t like getting out of bed, most days I don‘t get up at all. If I do get up I usually just go to the living room and stare at the television set. I leave my apartment only when it is absolutely necessary. I still talk to people on the phone, they usually call me first though. They ask if I’m ok, I say yes, but I know they can tell I’m lying. Never was any good at lying. One night I was in the living room watching T.V, although I wasn’t really watching it. It just makes me feel better with the noise it creates. While I was watching it the power went off. I got up and I flipped on the light switch but no light came. Either the power had gone out of I hadn’t paid the electricity bill, it didn’t really matter. I walked out to the balcony to get some air. I saw that the power had gone out in most parts of the city. I sighed and leaned on the railing, looking up at the stars. They seemed brighter than usual. I suddenly remembered something.

_________________________________________________________________

“Hey! Hey Jonny, wake up. Take a look at this.” I woke up to a finger punching me in the gut.

 

“Ow! Ok, ok, I’m up. Now what the fuck do want?” I got out of bed and slowly followed Chris to the window in my room.

 

“Look at the stars, they’re bright tonight. ” he said in awe as he pointed out the window and looked up at them.

 

“Yup, that’s happens when the power goes out and the whole city‘s pitch black. Can I go back to bed now?” Chris said nothing and just kept looking at the stars. I never got my question answered. I decided I might as well look at them too. After a long while he finally spoke.

 

“Hey Jonny?”

 

“What?”

 

“I love you.” he said quietly. I looked at him for a moment.

 

“I love you too Chris.” he smiled when I said that. I smiled too and went back to bed.

________________________________________________________________

I found myself smiling at the memory. It was when we were sharing an apartment together. I felt tears running down my face as I remembered that I could never hear him say those words again and I could never tell him what he means to me again.

 

 

 

Stage 5

 

 

Acceptance (noun) - the act of accepting

 

Today.

 

I’m not as depressed as I was a couple months ago. I find smiling and laughing an easier task to do. I talk to Will and Guy on occasion and I get more sleep at night. I still dream about him, they’re happy dreams of when he was here. I’ll never really get used to the fact that he’s gone though. I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night and wonder if it was a dream. But no, it turns out it was real and he‘s gone. I usually walk out and look up at the stars when that happens, and think I love you.