The Streets

Part 3

 

 

"Sir?" Guy looked up from his desk.

 

"Yes, Chris?"

 

"There's someone here to see you." Guy took the matter more seriously now, sitting up straight in his chair. He breathed for a while.

 

"Send 'em in."

 

Chris turned and went through the door. A minute later he brought back a young man with slick black hair.

 

"Hey," he said.

 

"Who are you?"

 

The man walked forward and extended his hand to Guy. Guy looked at it with disgust. "Name's Chazz."

 

"What do you want?" Guy's tone indicated that his patience was wearing thin. Chazz backed away a little, but held his confidence.

 

"We have a little problem, you and I." Chazz flashed a devious grin and looked over at Chris. "Who's he?"

 

"I-I'm-"

 

"That's none of your concern," Guy drawled, and as Chazz turned back to him Chris took the liberty to leave. "What the fuck do you want?"

 

"Just a friendly chat," Chazz condescendingly replied. "No need to fret, Berryman."

 

"Listen, either you start gettin' to the point, or-"

 

Chris waited in the other room. He couldn't make out what the muffled voices were saying, but they were obviously increasing in volume.

 

Then suddenly there were two quick bangs, a thud, and Chris's heart sank. He held his breath and stood still. A few moments later he watched as Chazz strolled out carelessly.

 

Once he was gone, Chris went into the room. He tried not to look at the body lying in a pool of blood on the ground, and kept walking until he reached the back room.

 

He knew what to do. He knew this day would come eventually. He'd been lucky enough that Chazz was so inexperienced.

 

Chris stuffed the piled of money into the bags stored in the safe. He tried to move quickly so he could get back home before Chazz realized what a stupid mistake he'd made.

 

He worried for a moment that he'd be following Chazz on his way, but fortunately such was not the case. He realized, though, that he probably looked ridiculously suspicious walking through the streets unarmed and carrying a big black bag.

 

There was an engine humming beside Chris as he walked. He knew not to acknowledge its presence. Then he heard the sound of the window rolling down.

 

"Chris, what are you doing?"

 

Chris stopped and glanced over. As soon as he saw Jonny's look of concern, he ran to the other side of the car and threw himself inside.

 

"Drive," Chris said.

 

Jonny, though confused, did as he was told. Half a mile down the road he asked Chris what was going on.

 

"Lost my job," he vaguely replied.

 

"Like, you were fired, or...?"

 

"Like, my boss was shot and killed while I was in the other room. Not so much fired as laid off. But," Chris meekly held up the black bag, "I've got compensation."

 

"How much?" Jonny asked with a bit of awe.

 

"Twenty grand, give or take." Chris suddenly became paranoid and shoved the bag under his seat. "And I know where there's plenty more."

 

"Great," Jonny said, unsure of how else to reply.

 

Then a thought abruptly came to Chris. "What are you doing driving around here?"

 

"Coming home from work," Jonny answered. "There's some construction going on, so I had to take a detour through the ghetto-" He quickly glanced sideways at Chris. "Sorry."

 

"Doesn't offend me," Chris indifferently said with a shrug.

 

Eventually the car stopped, and they walked up to their apartment. As Jonny shut the door behind him, Chris stumbled into the living room, then rapidly spun on his heels.

 

"We have to move."

 

"What? Why?"

 

"Because they could come after us. After me, and you'd be in danger, too. We can't stay here."

 

"But..." Jonny was preparing himself to argue, but he quickly realized there was no need. The apartment wasn't exactly high class, his job sucked, and their neighbors were a bunch of psycho jerks.

 

"But... you want to live, don't you?"

 

Jonny nodded. "All right, we'll move."

 

 

White Lips Kissed

 

Chapter 6

 

 

I was thoroughly drenched. I laughed at myself for thinking I had been wet before. That had been nothing. This was like being a sponge that was repeatedly dipped into the frigid waters of the arctic. And the game was not even half over.

 

But I hid my misery well. I managed to control my shivering just enough so that it wouldn’t be noticed. Although I feel like Francis wouldn’t have noticed if I had fell over and died right there. He was enjoying himself far too much. Every other second or so he would jump up and cheer. I don’t know why he ever even bothered sitting back down again, when moments later he would end up right back out of his seat.

 

I merely sat there the entire time, silent and brooding. I longed for this day to be over. But I knew that if I could make it through this wretched experience I would be one giant step closer to getting my revenge. And that made it all worth it.

For maybe the second time during the game, I looked out at the field and noticed the players filing off of it. I looked to Francis for an explanation. He finally remembered that I was there with him.

 

“It’s halftime,” he explained. He flashed me a sympathetic smile. That was his worst expression. It made me want to be violent. I had no use for his sympathy. How could he ever sympathize with me?

 

“Oh, already? That went by fairly quickly; I must have been really into the game.” I was quickly becoming the king of lies.

 

“Yeah, it is a great one, isn’t it?” He looked like an excitable little boy going to his first game. It was pathetic and made me love Chris even more. He never cared for football either.

 

We spent our Saturdays doing the crossword puzzle in the newspaper while listening to old tunes on the radio. Or sometimes we would go out, to a restaurant or the movies or to some old shop that just looked really inviting. But we would never watch some silly game, cheering all the time but rarely ever having a conversation.

 

I was shaken from my musings by a sudden uproar from the crowd that was in front of us. I looked up and my stomach flipped. Two men were kissing. They looked so in love. The crowd started to boo them. They didn’t seem to notice, though. They were in their own little world. A lover’s world. Chris and I used to belong to that world. It was a magnificent place to be, and I was jealous.

 

But they were forced out of that lovely place when one particularly aggressive and probably drunk member of the crowd decided to throw food at them. Soon other people joined in until a good twenty people were behaving like zoo animals. I sat and watched the scene unfold, my nausea increasing all the time. The two men ceased their lip lock and covered their heads. With horror I saw one of them brush away a tear.

 

It felt like an eternity had passed before a security guard finally came over and told everyone to settle down. I had a sneaking suspicion he had enjoyed the whole thing. And it seemed someone else had thoroughly enjoyed it as well.

 

I slowly turned my head to see Francis sitting beside me, laughing hysterically. I wished he was drunk right then, so he wouldn’t have looked so horribly wicked. I wished I was drunk, so I wouldn’t be held as accountable if I hit him.

 

“That…that was great!” he choked out between fits of laughter. I lost it then. I could feel my mask slipping off, breaking into pieces. I either needed to strangle Francis or throw up. I chose the latter.

 

“I….I don’t feel so good,” I muttered. I jumped up and ran to the bathrooms as fast as I could, tripping up the concrete stairs and receiving weird looks from everyone I passed. I didn’t care. I hurriedly entered the first open stall and leaned over the toilet, waiting for the relief I needed.

 

It never came. I suddenly remembered that I still hadn’t eaten anything that day. So there was nothing to come back up. Insanely frustrated, I slammed my fist onto the side of the stall. I wanted to end this game now. I couldn’t play anymore, it hurt too much. But I couldn’t, I knew I couldn’t.

 

In this moment though, I truly felt defeated. I actually considered giving up my goals entirely. Maybe I could flush those down the toilet, if nothing else. I slid down to the cold floor and sat against the stall. My phone vibrated then. I didn’t want to answer it, but the vibrations were just adding to my irritation. I quickly flipped it open.

 

My eyes widened. A pre-recorded message was telling me that a package had been delivered to my home, and I wasn’t there to claim it so it was left at my door. A package….the package. The one I had been waiting for. The one that contained the final step in this grueling process, the true key to my revenge.

 

I was instantly filled with relief. I could do this, and I would to this. It was oh so easy. In a few more short, measly weeks, I would have my revenge. Maybe even less time than that, I thought optimistically. Francis was far more unobservant than I had ever imagined him to be. To think that this man, this man who killed with such confidence, was so thoroughly ignorant.

 

Or maybe it wasn’t a surprise. Often I had heard that criminals were idiots. Maybe this was true. Actually, I realized, it must be true. Only someone who was truly ignorant and stupid would commit a hate crime.

 

I stood up with zest and was actually excited to return to my seat next to Francis

in the rain and the cold. I almost skipped down there. But I knew that being overly happy would look just as abnormal as being overly sad would. So I kept my happiness tucked safely within me and returned to the seat with a rather blank expression.

 

Francis turned to me immediately. “Are you okay man?” he asked, looking concerned.

 

It took me a moment to remember what he meant. I slowly recalled my horrible nausea minutes ago. “Oh,” I said casually, “Yeah, I’m okay. It must have been something bad I ate for breakfast or something like that.” I shrugged, but Francis didn’t look entirely convinced. “I’m fine, really” I added. I even smiled.

 

“Good,” he replied. Moments later the game resumed and Francis returned to his jumping and cheering. I returned to my quiet stupor, though this time it was a happy one rather than an angry one. The time passed like a flash of lightning and before I knew it I was home.

 

I changed out of my wet clothes and my spirits lightened even further. I stared lovingly at the little box that now sat on my kitchen table. I couldn’t wait to use its contents. But I refused to open it just yet. I didn’t want to risk getting some uncontrollable urge to use it ahead of time. The moment had to be just perfect. I would wait for the precise moment when Francis would least expect it; when it would have the greatest affect on him. And then I would enact my revenge.

 

 

 

 

Guys.....I'm sorry if this is getting too repetitive. There are just two more chapters after this one.

 

 

-

DIANNA wrote this, but she was all "youuuu can post it on the thread, blahhh!"

 

well, i think it's lovely and deserves to be shared. :heart:

 

Everybody Knows

 

 

 

Everybody knows

Which way the river flows

Everybody knows

Which way the wind blows

 

Everybody knows

How the alphabet goes

Everybody knows

That there are high and lows

 

Everybody knows

Some minds never close

Everybody knows

Some hearts never froze

 

Everybody knows

That love makes C. compose

Everybody knows

That J. is his red rose

 

Everybody knows..............

 

:chris: + :jonny: = :heart:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

:blush:

[untitled or X & Y]

 

[C1 or Chapter 3]

 

 

"Jane" Will whispered as he wound his window down. He was outside the school. Jane looked over.

"Uncle Will!" Jane said, running to the car. Will opened the door, got out and hugged her.

"Where are you off now?" Will asked, smiling. Chris and Guy were waiting impatiently in the car, making noises.

"To mum's" Jane said, grinning, showing her gaps.

"No your not, you are coming home with us" Will said, grabbing her hand, softly.

"Oh, is that okay with mum?" Jane asked.

"Yes, yes" Will said, uncertain before shouting behind him. "Chris, make room for Jane"

Jane jumped into the car between Chris and Guy. Will sat back down in the driver's seat.

"Don't worry- you are safe now" he said with delight, locking the doors and driving off.

 

(X)(a)(n)(d)(Y)

 

The old woman fell over. Jonny ran up to her.

"Let me help you" Jonny said, grabbing the old woman's hand as he picked her up from the ground.

"Thank you very much young man" she said, waddling towards her car with her bags. Jonny looked over to her, smiled and then went back over to her.

"Look, do you want me to drive you home?" Jonny asked.

"No, no, no there is no need" the woman replied.

"Please, I want to" Jonny said, grinning.

"Well okay" the woman said, handing Jonny her keys.

 

 

See you on the other side.

Chris x

Jonny x

Guy x

Will x

Ph

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'M BACK BABY!

 

Jonny’s Jazz

 

 

 

 

Jonny the jeweler found joy from jazz, even Jacob his jealous jabirus’ joy was judged by his jolly jingle. Their jukebox was the jackpot of jazz, though Jasper, Jeremy and Jack jeered whenever it was played. Jonny the jeweler wore jazzy jeans, jumpers and jackets whenever it was played. Jonny the jeweler jumped all around Jamaica jabbering of the justice he would bring to Jupiter next June, through his jolly jazz jinxes. Jonny the jeweler’s jazz would later jerk the jabberwockies in the jungle of Japan to Jonny the jeweler’s Jewelry Junction. Jonny the jeweler’s jazz brought joy to his jade eyes. Jasper, the jarhead who jeered when Jonny the jeweler’s jazz was played got a jackknife to jab Jonny the jeweler and end Jonny’s jazz. Jasper, the jarhead was jumped by a jackal so he was not judged and sent to the Japanese jail. Jonny the jeweler still found joy in his jazz with his jealous jabirus, Jacob unknown of Jasper’s jumping jackal.

 

 

 

[untitled or X & Y]

 

[A2 or Chapter 4]

 

 

 

 

"Chris" Gwyneth shouted as Chris burst into the house, slamming the door behind him. "Don't ignore me" Gwyneth exclaimed, Chris pushed past her to get upstairs.

"CHRIS!" Gwyneth shouted. "CHRIS!" Gwyneth shouted again before running after her husband.

Chris turned around and grabbed Gwyneth's wrist.

"You fucking leave me alone, do you hear me? I don't want to hear another word come from your disgusting fish lips, you fucking slag and you can start thinking about packing your bloody bags as well. And a word of warning, if you are still here tomorrow, it won't be just you in trouble, it will be the kids as well, do you hear me?" Chris exclaimed, letting go of Gwyneth's wrist before walking into his bedroom and locking the door.

 

-\-\-\-\-\-\-

 

Jonny rung the doorbell of the tatty looking flat. He waited several seconds before the door opened. A man was at the door, and when the man came into view of Jonny- Jonny punched him.

"I said I wanted my money" Jonny said. The man was screaming out in pain. "I'm not a man who says things he doesn't mean, you ought to know that now!"

"You will get it" the man replied, wiping blood from off of his face.

"Good. Have a nice day" Jonny said, walking away, grinning.

 

-\-\-\-\-\-\-

 

"Guy Berryman, what a surprise" the policeman said.

"It's nice to see you too" Guy replied, smirking.

"Don't play funny with me boy, this is the third time this month you have been down here, if you want to rob stuff why don't you just be a bit more careful?"

"Fuck off"

"Ooh, bad language, that is not helping"

"I don't care"

"Do you want to go to jail!"

"Not fussed really"

The policeman crouched down and stared at Guy who was sat on the chair. "You are really something"

"Are you letting me go?"

"No, I'll treat you, how about you stay in a police cell tonight, does that sound fun?" the policeman asked, grinning.

Guy grinned back before holding out his hands. "Get 'em on, then!"

 

-\-\-\-\-\-\-

 

"Damn you! Damn you! DAMN YOU!" Will shouted, slamming his fist on the table before collapsing in the sofa, ripping up the letter as he did so.

 

-\-\-\-\-\-\-

 

"Oh my god!" she shouted, running over to Phil.

"I don't want to live!" Phil exclaimed, the noose around his neck.

"Phil!"

"Don't touch me!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Phil get down!"

Phil did.

 

-\-\-\-\-\-\-

 

 

 

The Streets

Part 4

 

 

“Wow, this place is ridiculously fancy.”

 

“Well, we have the money for it.” Chris shrugged and stepped further into the ornate hotel lobby. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, illuminating, among other things, a giant water fountain in the center of the room. Frankly, it looked really overdone.

 

“How may I help you today, gentlemen?” a bubbly woman asked from behind the counter. Chris cautiously walked up to her and placed his hands on the counter's surface, tapping his fingers absentmindedly.

 

“I need a room.”

 

“Do you have a reservation?”

 

“No.”

 

“All right, let me check to see what's available.” She smiled and began to type a bunch of letters on the keyboard in front of her. After a minute or so she paused. “You'd like a room with two beds?”

 

“Just one.”

 

Her smile faltered just a tiny bit, but it was still noticeable. “All right...” She typed some more, then stuck her hand behind the counter and pulled out a set of keys. “Here you are. Your room is on the second floor.”

 

“Thank you,” Chris said as he took the keys. Then looked over at Jonny and nodded in the direction of the elevator.

 

No one else was there when the doors opened, and so Chris and Jonny were alone on the ride up.

 

“Could you imagine if the elevator suddenly stopped?” Chris mused. “I've always wondered what that would be like.”

 

“Well, you know, it wouldn't be so bad,” Jonny said in a low voice. He slyly slipped his finger into the front pocket of Chris's jeans and gave it a pull. Chris stumbled over towards him a little bit and laughed.

 

“Jonny!” Chris playfully pushed Jonny's arm. “Fresh.”

 

“Ah, come on, like you wouldn't love that.” Jonny brought his lips as close to Chris's neck as he could without actually touching any of his soft skin, then just breathed. Chris shivered a little.

 

“Oh, Jonny, you're gonna be the death of me,” Chris whispered, closing his eyes and enjoying the feel of Jonny's hot breath until the elevator stopped and they left to find their room. All down the corridor Jonny walked directly behind Chris so that there was barely an inch between their bodies, his hands running up and down Chris's back.

 

As Chris stopped to unlock their room, Jonny closed the gap between them entirely, hooking his chin over Chris's shoulder and reaching his hands around Chris's sides and down his abdomen. Eventually they came across the top of Chris's pants, and at that moment the door swung open.

 

“You gotta be kidding me.”

 

“What is it?” Jonny asked, too lustful to bother taking his eyes off of Chris. If he had, he would have noticed the two separate beds occupying the room. Chris merely pointed to the beds in response. “Figures.”

 

“Hmm, it's OK,” Chris said, a smile forming on his tired face. “We'll just have to push the beds together and then have lots of sex everywhere. That'll teach 'em.”

 

Chazz sat down without saying a word. His devious grin widened and his eyes fell upon Will's blank face.

 

“Are you gonna ask me why I'm here?”

 

“Why are you here?” Will unenthusiastically inquired.

 

“I took care of something for you. No worries anymore, eh?” When Will didn't respond, Chazz leaned forward in his chair and softly said, “Berryman. No more.”

 

“You...?” Chazz returned to his upright position and smiled broadly, nodding with great movement. “Well... congratulations.”

 

“More like I should be saying that to you! Now you own these streets, man!”

 

“What did you do with his accountant?” Will asked.

 

“His accoun...” Chazz's breathing slowed down and his face fell. “Uh...”

 

“Curly-haired guy.”

 

Chazz anxiously looked around the room, shaking his one leg and tapping his fingers on the other one. “He, uh... Well, I...” Chazz finally looked to Will, his eyes wrought with fear. “I didn't know that was his accountant.”

 

“So, you let him go?” Chazz shrugged his shoulders to confirm. Will absorbed the information and nodded as he took a deep breath. “I suppose worse things could have happened. You're sure he's gone? Berryman.”

 

“Oh, yeah, he was dead before he hit the ground.” Chazz positioned his fingers into gun shape and pretended to shoot a few times. “Hit him right in the heart.”

 

“Good,” Will said, though he had the sinking feeling that he didn't really mean it. The past few months had been sort of weird for him, and he hadn't been acting like he normally did. He didn't seem to find pleasure in his work anymore.

 

“I can find that guy you were saying about,” Chazz told him. “The curly-haired dude. I can find him if you want, I'm sure.”

 

“Yeah, do that.” It was almost just a reflex, Will saying that, and he didn't realize he'd said it until long after to words escaped his lips. It was too late then, but he found himself desperately wishing he could take it back.

 

Don't Go Breaking My Heart

 

 

 

Depression consumes him

like thick fog in the night;

his lips turn down, somberly,

but his eyes still shine bright.

That's how I see it, anyway,

when he looks up and tries

to smile at me, but I can

see past all his facial lies.

 

Except those ocular pieces,

they're so stunningly blue

that I just seem to freeze

and there's nothing I can do

but stare, and that makes

me feel like a creep.

But at least I'm not

watching him in his sleep.

 

Though I have thought about it,

and that makes me feel worse.

It's just that his stares

hit me like a curse

and leave my knees shaking,

my heart pounding fretfully,

so all I can do is sigh

and smile back regretfully.

 

If I had the courage,

if I wasn't so damn shy,

I would look right at him

and tell him exactly why

it seems like I'm "always around

to help lift [his] crazy moods,"

that it's because I hate it

when he sits and broods.

 

It almost takes away his beauty,

that angelic beauty he owns,

when fatigue settles beneath his eyes

and loneliness in his bones.

He confides in me that what's

bothering him is the lack

of anyone around who understands

him and can give his love back.

 

Is he crazy? Is he blind?

Can he not see

that the person he's asking for,

that person is me?

I would gladly give up

everything that I possess

if he could just realize,

if he could get rid of that distress.

 

Maybe then he would know,

maybe then he could smile,

and say that it was me

who made his day worthwhile.

At least, this was all what I thought

until that one fateful day;

I asked him what was wrong,

and he started to say,

 

"Oh, Jon, it's the same old thing

as it always has been-"

then he stopped, and

soon he started to grin.

I thought it was odd,

thought of asking, "What, Chris?"

but when I opened my mouth

he halted my question with a kiss.

 

It startled me at first,

which made him break away,

but I grabbed his arm

and told him, "No, stay."

And I kissed him again,

never wanting to part,

but he pulled back again and whispered,

"Don't go breaking my heart."

 

I laughed, which made him look

at me strangely and tilt his head,

so I just told him, "I won't break it,

Chris, I'd rather be dead

than hurt you." And he

seemed to be pleased.

"You know, Jon, you can

hurt me a little," he winked as he teased.

 

And thus was the beginning of

something that should have started long ago,

because now he's never sad, his eyes

and, well, his entire face only ever glow.

Oh, and I'm happy, too,

though that's secondary to me.

I'm good as long as he is,

and he is, I think he'd agree.

 

 

-

I'm back. With a shitty camera, you can barely read what they're saying, but you can sort of make it out.

My birthday is coming.. I'll get a scanner.

 

Update.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm so sorry :tongue:

The Streets

Part 5

 

 

Will paced around his office for a while. Something had to be done about his life. He almost hated who he was now.

 

He actually missed being that quiet kid in the corner, the one who did everything just like everyone asked and followed all the rules to a tee. It seemed to keep him out of trouble, which he feared he would be in a relatively short amount of time from now. Chazz was not someone he felt he could actually trust, and he was honestly a little afraid of being overthrown.

 

He wouldn't have minded handing over his position to someone else, but he knew that it wouldn't happen as simply as that. It had to end in death. It always did.

 

Will sat down in the chair that had grown accustomed to his body over the years, molding perfectly to his form before he even touched it. He let his hands drop over the armrests, and let his shoulders sag. He sighed tiredly and thought of what to do. Whatever way he chose, he didn't have much time left.

 

Chazz had left hours ago. Will wasn't sure how long it would take him to hunt down Chris. Probably not very long at all, if he was good enough. But Will wasn't sure of that, either.

 

All he knew was that he didn't want to do this anymore. And since he knew how it was going to end, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

 

“OK, I've got it,” Chris said as he reentered the hotel room. Jonny was laying on one half of the combined beds, unclad except for the sheet draped scantily over his body.

 

“Oh, good.” Jonny sat up, not caring where the sheet went, though it did manage to remain covering him for the most part.

 

Chris handed Jonny the newspaper he held in his hand, then made his way around to the other side of the bed. Jonny unfolded the paper and searched for the Classified section.

 

“Jonny, I thought you said you were going to be dressed by the time I got back,” Chris said, sliding under the sheet and pressing himself dangerously close against Jonny. “Not that I'm complaining.”

 

Jonny shrugged nonchalantly. “I was, but I decided I was too lazy to. I'm glad you enjoy it.”

 

“Hmm, maybe you'll enjoy it more,” Chris dreamily threatened.

 

He let his hand slide over Jonny's bare skin until he reached his destination. Then he quickly pulled his hand back as Jonny let out a small gasp.

 

“But first we need to look for a new place,” Chris said.

 

Jonny sighed, and Chris giggled a little to himself. Jonny began to read some of the listings on the page. Chris decided that the silence was dreadfully boring. He nuzzled up against Jonny's neck, breathing in his scent as fully as he could. His lips brushed lightly against Jonny's soft skin, and eventually he just rested his head on Jonny's shoulder and stared at the newspaper, not bothering to read anything.

 

“So, do you think we could find a place around here? The neighborhood seemed pretty nice.”

 

“Well, what about this place?”

 

Jonny pointed out a small ad on the bottom of the page. Chris took a few seconds to read it.

 

“No, no way,” he said.

 

“Why not? It sounds like a pretty nice place-”

 

“Did you even read it? 'Nice, quaint three-bedroom home. Peaceful neighborhood, relatively close to town.' It sounds like 'forget about moving somewhere fun and interesting and just come live here.'”

 

“I didn't realize we were looking for fun and interesting. I thought you just wanted us to leave so we could be safe,” Jonny quietly replied with a tiny bit of bitterness.

 

Chris sat up and furrowed his eyebrows. “Well, yeah, but, I mean... if we're going to be moving into a house, it's somewhere that we'll stay for a while. Don't you think it should be a place that doesn't make us want to shoot ourselves?”

 

Jonny looked up into Chris's vivid blue eyes and smiled. “Good point.”

 

A few hours later, Chris and Jonny had decided on a listing to check out. It was another apartment, not too far from the hotel, and the landlord wasn't asking much for the rent. Of course, that probably meant that the place wasn't all that great, but they were adamant about looking at it anyway.

 

Jonny was getting dressed as Chris finished taking the shower that Jonny had just previously interrupted. He looked at his wavy reflection in the steamy bathroom mirror, not really caring about grooming himself, but pretending to anyway. He wiped off some of the condensation so that the bit of the bathroom behind him he could see in the mirror was the shower, Chris's form quite visible even through the opaque glass.

 

Jonny walked out of the bathroom and went to grab his shoes. He heard the water stop, and within a minute Chris walked out as well, fully dressed. Jonny was always impressed by Chris's ability to speed-dress; he thought it might one day come in handy, though he wasn't sure exactly when.

 

Chris sat down and joined Jonny in his quest to put shoes on. They were both laced up in a matter of seconds, and Chris quickly pecked Jonny on the cheek before standing up.

 

Then quite abruptly came a knock on the door.

 

 

[untitled or X & Y]

 

[b2 or Chapter 5]

 

 

 

 

C & J

 

"Which one do you want?" Chris asked, looking in the jewellers window. Jonny was by his side, holding his hand. They looked at a ring, looked to each other and then smiled. They knew that it was the one they wanted. The one with the beautiful, red gem on it.

"Anything you want" Chris said, walking into the shop, grabbing Jonny's hand.

"Hello, can we help?" the shop assistant asked, looked down at Chris and Jonny's hands holding.

"Yes, we'd like the red gem engagement ring in the window" Chris said, grinning.

"For who?" the woman asked.

"My partner" Chris replied. The woman didn't look happy. "What is the matter?" Chris asked.

"Is that your partner?" she asked.

"Yes" Jonny answered, squeezing Chris' hand.

"I'm sorry, I don't feel comfortable with this" she said, forcing a smile.

"Oh well that is alright" Jonny replied.

"No, no it isn't alright" Chris said, raising his voice. "What the hell are you playing at? What age are you living in?"

"Don't you raise your voice in here!" the woman snapped.

"Don't worry! I'll be seeing you in court, you homophobic bitch!" Chris exclaimed, storming out, quickly followed by Jonny. Chris collapsed on the floor outside, in tears. Jonny sat down beside him.

"We don't need a bloody ring, it's not a ring we need, it is each other" Jonny said, leaning over to kiss Chris. "I will always love you"

 

0|0|0|0|0|0|0

 

W, G & P

 

"Hello" Phil said, holding the little baby's hand. The little baby looked up at Phil. The baby's mother looked up at Phil.

"Thank you" she said. The crowd which had gathered were looking on in astonishment.

"No, thank you" Phil said.

"Well done Phil!" Guy said.

"Yeah, well done" Will said. "So, we still up for seeing the film?"

"No" Phil said, starting to walk off. Guy and Will followed him.

"No?" they asked in unison.

"This has made me think" Phil concluded.

"Oh yes?" Guy asked.

"What about?" Will wondered.

"About having a kid of my own" Phil said, grinning before running towards his car.

"Where are you going?" Guy asked.

"To make a baby!" was the reply.

 

 

 

The Streets

Part 6

 

 

“Wonder who that is,” Chris said of the door, halfheartedly lifting his hand to point to it. He didn't really seem to care as he looked back at Jonny, who stood up next to him, grabbing Chris by the waist and pulling him in for a deep kiss.

 

Then there was another knock. Chris broke away, sighed, and answered the door.

 

“Maid service,” a stout woman said as he opened the door. Chris blinked at her a few times.

 

“OK.” He stepped aside to let the woman in, then nodded to Jonny, suggesting they leave as quickly as possible. “Have fun,” Chris added as he and Jonny left, and he shut the door behind him.

 

“Nice one,” Jonny deviously laughed as they headed down the hall and towards the elevator. Chris smiled at him, resting his hand on Jonny's back.

 

The elevator was sadly full of people when they entered it, and so Chris felt that he should try to be as gentlemanly around the others as possible, and not do what he was planning to do to Jonny. He was fine with that, though. There would be plenty of time later.

 

The lobby was full of people eating breakfast and doing other mundane things like that. Chris double-checked his pocket to make sure he'd brought the newspaper page with him; there was a crinkling sound and a papery feel when he shoved his hand into the fabric, and so he assumed that he had indeed brought it.

 

Jonny's car was parked relatively close to the hotel entrance, but it was such a lovely day that the two men decided to walk. A lot of people had decided to do that, too, and so the sidewalks were a bit crowded, but that was fine. Chris always hated to be cramped up inside a car, anyway, and he loved the open air, even if it was corrupted with the dirty city pollution.

 

The apartment they were to be observing was several blocks away from the hotel. As time went on, the sun began to beat down on the earth a bit more heavily, and even though he was only wearing a t-shirt and jeans Chris began to feel beads of sweat forming down his neck and his back.

 

“Oh, it's so hot out today, Jonny,” Chris seductively said. He sneakily slid his hand into the back pocket of Jonny's pants, a move which Jonny retaliated against by quickly licking Chris's ear.

 

Chris involuntarily twitched a little, and giggled as Jonny said, “Ew, you taste like sweat.” Chris took his hand back and used it to playfully push Jonny away.

 

“I'll bet I taste a thousand times better than you.”

 

“Well, that's just something we're going to have to find out later, isn't it?”

 

“Aw, but later is so far away.”

 

Chris quickly glanced over at Jonny, and the way the sun hit Jonny's green eyes, lighting them up with an alluring fire, made him stop. He reached his hand out to grab Jonny's arm, then slipped his other hand behind Jonny's neck and brushed their lips together. He felt a weird pain, though, far from the normal tingling sensation he got whenever he kissed Jonny.

 

“Did you feel that?” he quietly asked.

 

He wasn't sure why he was talking in such a low voice, until Jonny responded with, “Chris...” and stared down at Chris's chest. Chris's eyes followed, and he noticed a hole in his chest, blood spilling down the front of his shirt. Then he noticed a matching one in Jonny's chest, but before he could say anything he fell forward and collapsed onto Jonny.

 

“Jo... Jon...”

 

Jonny held on tightly as he saw a man running in the background, his slick black hair shining in the sun and distracting almost everyone's attention away from the gun in his hand. A few people were shrieking in the distance, though they were actually closer than Jonny thought, and he too began to feel lightheaded. His legs buckled and he brought Chris down with him to the ground, knowing full well that Chris would never move again.

 

Soon Jonny didn't even have the strength to sit up, and so he laid himself down, Chris still resting on his shoulder, and entangled his leg around Chris's. Then the two lovers just stayed there, motionless, wrapped up in each other as sirens began to blare and their blood mixed on the sidewalk in a deformed heart shape.

 

 

[untitled or X & Y]

 

[C2 or Chapter 6]

 

 

"Night, Guy!" Will said, waving Guy out the door.

"I ought to be going now as well! I'll see you tomorrow Will, and I'll see you sometime Jane!" Chris said, smiling to little Jane. "Good luck" he continued before walking out of Will's front door.

"Is there anything you want?" Will asked Jane, looking down at her.

"I want to go home" she asked.

"Look, Jane" Will said, sighing. "You can't go home and that is that"

"Why the hell not?" Jane exclaimed.

"Hey, don't use that language!" Will exclaimed in disgust.

"Why should I listen to you? You are not my dad!" Jane said.

Will just stared at Jane for a second and watched her begin to cry.

"I'm so sorry" Will said, putting his arm around Jane. "I'm so, so sorry"

 

(X)(a)(n)(d)(Y)

 

"Thank you so much for this" the old woman said as Jonny drove up her drive.

"It's not a problem at all" Jonny replied, smiling.

The old woman got out of the car. Jonny stopped her.

"May I come in for a coffee?" Jonny asked.

"I'm not sure about this" the woman replied.

"Tell me your name" Jonny said bluntly.

"Josephine" she said.

"Josephine, what a beautiful name" Jonny said, getting out of the car, approached Josephine and kissed her passionately. "Now, how about that coffee?"

 

 

 

Smile

 

 

Today is the day. The day. The most important day of my life.

 

It's our first gig, our first real gig. The one to say We made it. We finally made it.

 

After all those years, all that hard work, it's finally paid off. And people are going to recognize us, man! They'll see us, and they'll say, "Wow, these guys, they really know what they're doing. They're great-"

 

Ah, who am I kidding?

We're shit.

 

This gig is for a crowd of maybe 50 people, if we're lucky. It'll probably only be five. And they'll probably leave before the first song has even started. I would. We're shit.

 

So I don't really see a point in trying very hard, but as we're sitting backstage Jonny walks up to me and frowns. I hate when he does that.

 

"Chris, cheer up, man," he says, and I almost snap at him until I remember that I can never snap at Jonny.

 

"They're going to hate us, man, I know it."

 

"So what? If they do, then... at least we still have each other. Uh- the four of us have each other."

 

"I guess."

 

Jonny sighs and stalks off, knowing that he can't help me. It tears me up to think that he can't, though, because I know it hurts him when he has to walk away like that. So the next time he looks at me I try to smile, just to see if he'll smile back. He does, and it's-

 

Well, here's the thing. I never really intended on joining a band. To be honest I could barely play much more than "When the Saints Go Marching In" on the keyboard when I started college. Well, I could play some guitar, too. And that's how it all began.

 

One day I was walking through the halls, and there was Jonny, playing. Normally I wouldn't have cared, except that I noticed he was drop dead gorgeous. Seriously, this man had the most stunning green eyes ever, and as I watched him play (I'm not creepy, I promise) I saw him smile, and that just did it.

 

I ran to my room and grabbed my guitar, then ran back down the hallway and just happened to stumble upon him again, and in my total surprise, I came up with the brilliant idea of us playing together. He smiled at me and agreed, and I had to rush over and sit down next to him before my knees gave out.

 

I was fine with spending my afternoons just playing with Jonny, but he suggested that we find some others and start a band. I couldn't say no, so a few weeks later we formed a group with Guy and Will. Then everything took off from there.

 

Anyway, I guess that smile saves me, because only a few minutes afterward we're heading onstage, and I feel like I'm going to throw up. But I don't feel like running away screaming anymore, which is good.

 

It seems like all I do is blink and we're already halfway through the setlist. Maybe that's because we're only playing about six songs. I look over to Jonny and he smiles at me again, and I can hardly control myself. When the song ends I skip over to him and kiss him on the cheek. He thinks it's all for show.

 

Everyone thinks it's all for show. One day they'll realize it's not.

 

I just hope that that day doesn't come too late.

 

 

 

Final chapter!

 

STORY ONE, CHAPTER NINE

 

 

 

 

You’ll Never Be Lonely

Chapter Nine

 

Chris’ POV

My stroke of genius had me running back to my parents in a flash. I burst into the room my mum and Cathleen shared, forgetting that the both of them were asleep. The baby let out a loud cry, which woke my mother in seconds. My father jumped out of the chair he had been drifting off to sleep in, scooped the newborn into his arms and tried to calm her down. My mum looked around the room feverishly to see who had woken her up. Her eyes finally rested on me, she noticed I had a flushed face from running across a hospital. She gave me a glare that was scarily similar to her “you’re dead to me” look.

 

“Christopher!” My mum and dad shouted at the same time, loud enough to wake Al up, who couldn’t be woken by a screaming baby, but could at the sound of me being yelled at. Cathleen shushed as my dad rocked her gently back and forth. Al just gave me a dirty look for disrupting his sleep.

 

“What do you need, Chris?” My dad said, calming down and going back to sit in his chair. His face looked tired, worn out and old, like the lack of sleep highlighted his wrinkles somehow. I sit down and try to collect myself. I try my best to have a professional look, and work out what to say in my mind.

 

“Well, dad, you know how Al and I went out for a walk earlier to see that boy? His name is Jonny. He’s an orphan now, since his family got into a car accident... I’ve been spending all this week with him and he has no family.” I take a breath as my voice feels flooded with emotion. “The nurses say he needs a good family to take him in; ‘A stable household who want kids’ I think is what the nurse said.” My dad gives me a look as if he knows where this is going.

 

“Christopher, if you are asking us to take this boy in…” My mum interjects. She has the same old, worn out and tired expression that dad has. She looks pretty still, since she’s happy underneath all the stress and wrinkles. Her face is almost glowing and her eyes look sparkly. I realize they are filled with tears.

 

“As much as we would like to adopt Jimmy,” My dad starts though he is stopped when I remind him, that his name is Jonny. “Jonny… We can’t, son. Your mum just had her third child, who isn’t even a week old. She can’t handle her own three children, let alone another.” He continues but, pauses after every word or so, his voice also sounding emotional.

 

“Please, mum and dad! I’ll take care of him, even, so you won’t have to! He doesn’t have a family but, we can be it for him!” My voice was getting louder as I got angrier.

 

“Enough! You don’t understand Chris; taking care of a child is a lot harder than feeding and loving them! He isn’t a pet that you take care of for a week- understand that. Another family, possibly, who are unable to have children, may be able to take care of him better than we can. Wouldn’t you rather see him happy and well taken care of?”

 

My chest hurt as I cried; I don’t want to let Jonny go. I don’t know how the world will treat him anymore. He already knew that the world wasn’t fair, and I didn’t want him to fall into another accident or worse, lose anyone else. I wanted to be there, standing by his side and helping him get better. I wanted to protect him and show him that nothing like that will happen again. I wanted him to know that even though he lost so much, people could still be there as a family for him. I could be his older brother and make sure he would never ache again.

 

I spent hours fighting with my parents over letting us adopt Jonny but, they weren’t moved. Al tried to butt in and help me, since he knew him, but nothing would work. My parents were rocks in the head, which made me mad. I wanted them to care and I needed to see that they could care about something other than “their precious baby daughter”. They never wanted me or Al; since they got together they always wanted a little girl, they told us that all the time. They had Cathleen now, so they couldn’t love another being because of it.

 

One point in the night after the arguing, my family finally fell asleep peacefully- except for me. I stayed up until the late hours of the day, debating on whether I should go see Jonny or not. We were leaving as soon as everyone woke up, so I decided to go tell him my farewells. I brought my jumper along with me and stuffed my small plastic army man into my pocket. It was my only good luck charm and God knew I needed it that moment.

 

I silently crept through the halls like I did just days before, the first night when I saw Jonny, when I didn’t know his story. I walked as I did the second night when I met Hahna, and the same way I walked for all the nights and days following my meetings with the green eyed boy. Tonight was the same as all of the other nights except for one fact; tonight was the end.

 

I prayed Nurse Brooke wasn’t there- what if she sent me back to my room? What if she had taken Jonny away? What if…

 

My head became crowded with many different worries revolving around Jonny. These worries increased at the speed in which I walked. I reached Jonny’s room faster than usual and found myself not knowing what to say when I went in.

 

The door to Jonny’s room was opened so I slid right through it. In his bed, Jonny was lying wide awake, staring at the ceiling. I felt bad for him as I examined his injuries from the doorway. His skin was pale from the loss blood, his broken leg, and the casts wrapped around most of the left side of his body. These made him look broken and defeated but, I knew the part of him that hurt the most was his broken spirit. I knew the doctors would have him healed up and better soon but, they couldn’t fix his soul. I don’t even know if I could…

 

Approaching the bed quietly then sitting down on the corner without disrupting or scaring Jonny was a hard task, but I managed it. I sat on the hard hospital sheets, when Jonny looked up at me. His eyes were dry like he had cried so much there were no tears left.

 

“Chris…” He said his voice cracking. “You haven’t left yet…”

 

“I couldn’t without visiting you again… I guess it’s a good thing you are awake?” I try to smile but, I think Jonny notices I failed.

 

“You’re leaving, aren’t you? What did your parents say?”

 

“Well, they said we- w-we couldn’t…” I started. The rest of my explanation took much longer, and was much harder to get through. His hope fell even further than it already had. His expression looked like he’d just been force-fed a taste he hated the most. “But we’ll always be best friends. We can write letters and I can visit!” I tried to convince him but, he seemed to be as stubborn as my parents.

 

“Will we, Chris?” He sighed, “I already lost everything, and I don’t want to lose you… but I know I’ll never see you again.”

 

Seeing the tears started to form in Jonny’s eyes, I began crying as well. I knew I was reinforcing the “emotional” label the older boys at school gave me, especially after this past week, I didn’t know if I could smile again. I would be seen as weak and emotional for the rest of my school career, which is not a good title on a boy. I moved closer toward Jonny and put my arms around him, pulling him into a hug. He was so small compared to me, still broken as he was when I first met him. He placed his head on my shoulder and cried out loud just as I was doing.

 

At one point, the door opened and I looked up to see Nurse Brooke with a concerned expression on her face. She must have heard our crying and came to see if we were alright. I wanted to tell her that I could take care of this but, I knew I couldn’t handle it by myself. She entered and pulled both Jon and I into a bigger hug.

 

I took this moment to tell her what I was planning before I came to the room. “I asked my parents if we could adopt Jonny earlier. I asked if it could be his Christmas present, that he could have a home and be happy with us.” I trailed off and Nurse Brooke continued.

 

“They said no, didn’t they Chris?” I nod and Jonny cries holding on to me tighter. All my wanting to fill his happiness for the past few days comes flooding into my mind and heart; burning as I know I can’t fulfill them. As tears flow faster between both Jon and I, I tell myself that Nurse Brooke will take good care of Jonny and that one day when everything is alright, we will be best friends just as we are now.

 

The light starts to peek out from the window and I realize I haven’t slept. Nurse Brooke knows I’ll be leaving in about an hour, maybe two. She steps out of the room with tears also in her own eyes and lets us have our final goodbyes.

 

“I love you, Jonny. You are my best friend, and you always will be. I’ll take care of you and be there somehow. You will always have me.”

 

“Promise?”

 

“Promise.”

 

“My best friend, Chris... I love you, too.” As he tells me this, I slip him the army man I had in my jumper. I don’t know why, he probably doesn’t even like army men but, I gave it to him. Maybe it could stop this boy from getting hurt again, the little armed man would fight for him, and only him. It could be the good luck charm he never had, because it was with me that night.

 

“Please remember me, Jonny. I’ll always remember you…” And I untangled myself from his arms, squeezed his hand slightly, got off the bed and walked out the door. Little did I know that that night would be the cause of my sleeplessness for the years to come. Little did I know that my heart would hurt the same as his did after I walked out that door and down the hall to my own family.

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is an actual spoiler, folks.

 

 

The song "Christmas Lights" could play a part somewhere in the future.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Streets

Part 7

 

 

It was one o'clock when Will's eyes began to close, his tired body aching for an afternoon nap. He heard dull footsteps approaching but did nothing to acknowledge them further.

 

"Done." Will listed his right eyelid with great difficulty. The first thing he saw was a black bag, the next the hand that held it.

 

"Wonderful," Will apathetically replied. He closed his eyes again, but he knew he wasn't going to be left alone.

 

"Killed his boyfriend, too." There was no remorse in his tone, more pride than anything else. "And I got their cash. Dude, that Berryman was loaded!" Chazz paused, then started to laugh, refusing to stop or explain until Will looked at him again. "So was my gun."

 

Will blinked a few times, then sighed. He stood up and waited for a while. What he was waiting for exactly was anyone's guess. He himself didn't even really know. Chazz was still grinning smugly.

 

"Well, he did have a lot of clients. A lot of girls."

 

"That's another thing. I was thinkin' we talk to those girls, get 'em to come over to us. What's better than the protection of Champion, eh?"

 

"Yeah, talk to them..." Will stared at the ground. His mind was nowhere near his body; right now he could only think of Chris and how he didn't have to die. No one ever had to die. "Excuse me," Will said, and he walked in the direction of the bathroom.

 

"You won't take long, will you? I think we still got things to discuss." Will sharply turned around and shook his head. Chazz assumed he meant he'd be back in a few minutes. Will kept walking.

 

The bathroom was as clean as it always had been, the floor tiles stained with dirt, the walls with blood. It was how Will had come to power, all those years ago. He once was as ruthless as Chazz, but it had finally taken its toll. His life had caught up with him, and he hated it.

 

When he was young, seeing the lifeless face of a man as his last breath escaped him meant nothing. The blood trailing behind on the wall as his body sunk to the ground was nothing more than some dark red substance he should probably clean up some time. He never thought about the man's possible family. He never really knew what family was.

 

He looked down at his hands and wondered if he ever was that quiet boy. Maybe it had all been an act. Maybe he hadn't changed, he's only revealed his true self. Either way, he couldn't handle it. He couldn't live with the guilt.

 

Will turned the faucet of the large sink, and within a few seconds the water poured out warm. He ran his hands underneath and let the water wash over them. It was almost too hot, and it even burned his skin a little, but he kept his hands where they were regardless. He wanted to feel the pain.

 

He looked up to the mirror at his reflection, unsurprised by what he saw. The passing of time was clearly showing on his face; he was by no means old, but his forehead was starting to wrinkle and lines were forming around his mouth.

 

Then suddenly he became angered by the man before him, and a rage burned inside him that he could not seem to smother. He flicked his hands out, water splashing on the glass surface, but it wasn't enough. With his hand clenched in a tight fist he proceeded to smash the mirror into hundreds of tiny shards, some of which stuck in his hand and allowed for his blood to seep out. He almost liked the way it felt.

 

In fact, it felt so releasing, so freeing that he decided to pull one of the larger broken pieces out of the frame and slide it across his wrist. He let out an endorphin-filled sigh and watched as a tiny red line appeared. As it thickened, he did the same with his other one.

 

He kept the water on as he backed away, smiling and leaning against the wall. Then he grew tired again, and he sat down and let his eyes close.

 

In the other room, Chazz decided he was bored. For a few minutes he examined the various things on Will's desk. They weren't much more entertaining than stared into space. He looked over at where Will had disappeared. It had been quite a while since he left...

 

Chazz got up and slowly walked over to the bathroom. He didn't want to be intrusive, because maybe Will was just taking his time or something, but with nothing else to do he thought he might as well check. He peered inside and his eyes bugged.

 

Chazz stood in the doorway, too shocked to do anything else. He figured that one day he would probably kill Will, just like he did with the others, but not anytime soon. Even he thought he still had a little left to learn.

 

But as Chazz pushed open that bathroom door, he saw that his job had already been done for him.

 

 

 

 

 

um... the end :P

||Catch & Release||

 

Part One

 

 

“So, you really do love me, don’t you?” I asked him lightly. Looking up from the ground, he was unable to look at me in the eyes. Awkward, sometimes he was, but shy was something entirely new. I sensed the reason why he was shy; he was convinced I didn’t feel the same way. “Because if you do, that’s- err- alright with me,” I stammered. “I mean, it’s a little more than okay, that’s- uh… t-that’s fantastic, really.” I started flailing my hands as I tried to verbalize my feelings.

 

Chris was always better at talking, but this time, and this time alone, he didn’t have to say a word. His stare spoke tremendous languages, and I couldn’t hold myself back any longer. I began moving closer, silently allowing my eyes to look into his brilliant ones. As I became closer, my eyes momentarily wandered to his lips. They were inviting, friendly, and happened to be calling my name.

 

He inched closer to the point where I could feel his nose grazing my own. He moved past, but my lips didn’t receive a greeting. He moved his mouth close to my ear, and whispered “Jonny, I do love you.” He took a deep breath, I pressed my eyelids together firmly in retort. I tried with every single shard of self-control I owned to stay still. His breathing near my ear and neck even felt magical- my heart showed that as well by speeding its pace. “Jonny… I love the way your name sounds. Jonny, my Jonny…”

 

He ran his index finger down my spine provocatively. I shivered; my self-control had been substantially weakened with his simple touch. Tearing down my walls of defense was just another one of his teasing habits. It drove me mad- countless times this made me wish his winks were more than mere friendship gestures.

 

“Jonny... Jonny…” he moved once more, shrinking the gap of air between our lips. I closed my eyes, and awaited pure bliss.

 

“Jonny… Jonny! JON!” I heard someone shouting. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes to see Guy shaking the living hell out of me. He had a startling expression on his face, and kept a firm but clammy grip on my shoulders. Anger rushed through me like a tsunami; dangerous, unexpected and sudden. I felt like hitting Guy- punching him for interrupting whatever I had, or for being too close to me.

 

“You’re alright, are you?” he worried. “Um…” he lowered his voice then sat cross-legged next to me, placing his hands on his lap. “You were mumbling something about Chris again, mate…” he played with his thumbs. “You told me to wake you up if anything like that happened again, so, I did.” He sighed. “It was really hard, though, you almost didn’t wake up this time… almost like that was a reality for you.”

 

“I’m fine. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to be alone.” I snapped. Pardon me, if I’d rather live in a fantasy, I thought as he left. Fantasy is all I have… I stared up at my ceiling. I sighed and shut my eyes tightly, that feeling was, and always will be this; just a fantasy time and time again.

 

 

 

 

Part Two

 

 

I sat silently at a small neighborhood restaurant. Alone, with only a cup of coffee as my company, I stared off. I felt cold, bitterly remembering that I’d never actually experience his touch- not if females still existed on the earth. The coffee, still warm against my cold hands, was the only inviting feeling all around.

 

Visiting restaurants alone couldn’t compare to visiting with Chris. I could sit in the middle of the place, and no eye would even look twice in my direction; I was just another bloke stopping by for a bite. With Chris, several people would notice, look sharply away then proceed to whisper to their companions. This had never bothered me- I would much rather have everyone recognize his presence than do as much as glance at me. His beauty deserves attention, which is exactly why he receives it.

 

I took a deep breath, inhaling the distinct smell of coffee, along with traces of flowers and toast. I caught myself thinking of him again- something I ought not to do. The loneliness only gripped my heart with a quarter of the force that my longing and failure held. That clenching fist was not only attached to a muscular arm, but was covered with a spiked glove. That glove wouldn’t remain there forever; it could be removed whenever it pleased to conceal its identity. The gaping hole it left behind was merely a mystery.

 

Of course, I never spoke to anybody concerning that topic- or at least not frequently enough for them to know every detail of my thoughts. Guy knew, but he is also very troubled by my situation. Not only was my health worrying him, but the noticeable fact that Chris never noticed me, even how it affected me. I carry on being the best friend to gather up his pieces when his world was shattered by a girl. The friend that gives the supportive thumbs-up when he looks back before leaving for the night, holding a girl’s hand. It always involved a girl, who always was in the position I could only lust after.

 

I bit my lip firmly to prevent myself from having waterfalls streaking down my cheeks. I shakily took another deep breath, almost hiccupping. Upon closing my eyes for a few minutes, I began to overhear a conversation.

 

“He doesn’t give two shits about me, and he probably doesn’t even know I exist,” a girl’s voice was complaining.

 

“Calm yourself, Tegan. Obviously he knows you exist, how can you ignore a living being in front of your face? The thing that’s missing is that he doesn’t see your end of this; you have to present yourself- make it known,” the other woman was saying, then paused. “Body language is key, I think. Make him want you, make him come after you. If I were you, I’d put out a little,” she continued. The rest of her speech-like pep-talk I’d stopped paying attention to. I was pondering what was already said.

 

Make him come after me? That would be an utterly different approach strategy- but I knew it had to be done. Waiting for him to come around wasn’t going to work anymore; not while I still had desire flowing through the veins in my body.

 

It was then I immediately began potting out the events that were to come. That plot would require diligent practice in the art of seduction. Truthfully, that hadn’t been a skill that had the opportunity to have many practices. I didn’t have much experience under my belt- literally. As I left my tip to the waitress on the table and made my way out, I had heard the second woman remind the first; “Just not too much, you know?” which was something I purposely paid no attention to.

 

I wanted it all, and I wasn’t prepared to halt my speeding vehicle of desire for a teasing pit stop. I wasn’t prepared to settle for anything less than him. I placed my foot directly on top of the gas pedal and sped away down the road only leading me to one place; Chris’ flat.

 

 

 

-

 

Ok, first of all I just wanted to apologize for my lack of reading, writing and reviewing. :P I'm currently working my way through the massive amount of fics I've missed out on. I'll get finished one of these days! Here's a small taste of my latest fic. (I know, I know... Finish current stories before starting new ones... I couldn't help it, this story really wanted to come out.)

 

 

Christopher Anthony John Martin

&

Jonathan Mark Buckland

A Love Story

PART 1

The Younger Years

Chapter 1

First Meeting

 

 

 

Chris had never been too comfortable being on his own in big crowds. Yet, there he sat, in the auditorium at University College London and fiddled nervously with his pencil case.

 

“Hello and welcome to your first day here at the UCL…” The headmaster droned on and Chris soon found himself losing interest. He must really have gone into his own world because there was suddenly a unanimous screeching of chairs and people chattering amongst themselves.

 

“Excuse me?” Chris carefully asked a pretty girl next to him. She flipped her hair out of her face.

 

“What?” She asked, disinterestedly.

 

“Ehm… What just happened?” He sheepishly asked, blushing a little.

 

“You’re supposed to find your room.” She cooly said, clearly wanting to get away from the gangly young man in front of her.

 

“Thanks.” He said to her back as she walked away. His heart sunk a little.

 

“Well that started out just perfect, didn’t it?” He asked himself quietly.

 

He gathered up his things and was the last one to leave the room.

He pulled up his black cargo trousers that always had the bad habit of falling down from his narrow hips. He tightened his army belt and made his way down the corridor that led to the student dorms.

 

So lost in his attempt to find his way – he didn’t notice the man in front of him until it was too late and they crashed into each other.

 

“Oh, shit!” Chris exclaimed as the other man’s things flew out and scattered across the hallway. “I’m terribly sorry!”

 

“Don’t worry about it.” A sweet voice answered him and Chris found himself looking into a pair of the most beautiful pale green eyes he had ever seen. They quickly gathered up the things.

 

“Hi.” He said and extended his hand after stuffing down some paper in his bag.

 

“Hello.” Chris answered and shook his warm hand.

 

“’M Jonny.” The green eyes said.

 

“Chris.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Chris.” He smiled and adjusted his cap. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

 

Chris nodded and Jonny continued down the corridor, swinging a guitar up on his shoulder.

 

“Oh!” Chris excitedly exclaimed and bounded after Jonny, curly hair flopping around his ears. “Wait!”

 

Jonny turned around and raised his eyebrows.

 

“You have a guitar!” Chris stated the obvious.

 

“I do.” Jonny smiled shyly.

 

“Come play with me.” Chris demanded.

 

“I’m rubbish.”

 

“Let me be the judge of that.” Chris cheekily argued. “Please, come play with me.” He shot Jonny his best puppy dog eyes and quivering bottom lip.

 

Jonny relented. “Oh, alright then.”

 

“Tonight?” Chris smiled, braces shining.

 

“I don’t see why not.” Jonny said.

 

“I’m in 136.” Chris said. “I’ll be there waiting at eight.”

 

Jonny nodded and turned around again.

 

Chris looked after Jonny and blushed beet red when Jonny smiled at him as he turned a corner.

 

“Riight… 136.” He sighed to himself. “Now I just have to find it.”

-*-

 

Jonny shifted his guitar from shoulder to shoulder as he slowly made his way down the dimly lit corridor. He bit his lip and took a deep breath of stale air. He found that he had butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He was terribly nervous. Music was pounding from behind several closed doors.

 

He turned a corner and stood outside room 136. He took another deep breath and lifted his hand to knock on the door when it suddenly flew open, revealing a wild-haired Chris.

 

“Hi!” He happily said. “Sorry ‘bout that. I didn’t know if I would be able to hear you over the music, so I’ve been… Uhm… Checking the door a few times.”

 

Jonny squinted and studied Chris for a second.

“Oh…” He said. “You didn’t think I’d show up, did you?”

 

He stepped into the room and Chris shut the door behind him. The place was already covered in music posters and an electric piano stood in a corner. Boxes stood, unpacked, all around the room. On the bed there lay a guitar with a daisy strap on it.

Jonny immediately felt right at home.

 

“I don’t know…” Chris admitted after a few moments of silence. “Some people find me insufferable.” He shrugged, but Jonny saw a flash of pain the deep blue eyes.

He decided to change the subject.

 

“So you like the Pixies, huh?” He asked, motioning to a poster.

 

Chris snapped out of his self-deprecating state and lit up.

“They’re only one of my favorite bands!”

 

“You know ‘Where’s My Mind’?” Jonny asked.

 

“Of course!” He stumbled over to his guitar and picked it up. He threw the daisy strap over his head and looked over at Jonny with shining eyes. Jonny picked up his guitar as well.

 

Their eyes met and they began to play.

 

 

for the plot challenge or whatever you want to call it :P

Writing

 

Part 1

 

 

Jonny was excited. Thrilled, even. He stumbled into the room, but not loudly enough for Chris to look up from his piano.

 

The others had left and gone home now, back to their respective wives and children. Neither Chris or Jonny had either of those, and so they most often stayed behind and continued their work long after the others quit for the day.

 

Chris was playing, his head tilted low, his nose almost scratching the spruce surface of the piano keys. The music was so quiet that Jonny could hear the odd clicking sound each key made as it was pressed down, but Chris was so emotionally involved that to him it sounded like the crashing of waves against his ears.

 

Jonny didn't want to disturb him, so he just stood in the doorway for a while and watched. Chris hit a few notes, and one seemed to settle oddly with him. He lifted his head alertly, then hit the key again. It still didn't seem right.

 

“What is it, Jonny?” he abruptly asked, and Jonny was reminded that he was there. That's right, Jonny had even forgotten his own presence in the room.

 

“Oh, I just wanted to show you something.”

 

As Jonny walked into the room, Chris responded, “Is it a riff? Because I wonder if it'll pick up this shit piece I'm playing.”

 

“It's not a riff, no,” Jonny apologetically said. He didn't correct Chris's self-deprecation, because he knew after years of spending time with the man that it was useless. Plus, he always found that trait of Chris's kinda quirky.

 

Chris pointed his ocean-like eyes at Jonny. “Will it still pick up this shit piece I'm playing?”

 

“It could, I guess...” Jonny finally stopped a mere six inches from the piano. He held in his hand a pale green sheet of paper, one much resembling the color of his eyes. He brought it up to his face and intended on reading, but at the last minute he was overcome with a strange sort of stage fright.

 

Jonny gave the paper to Chris to read instead. He was glad that Chris intently stared at the paper, because he didn't want Chris to notice the spots of red developing on his otherwise quite pale cheeks. They only worsened as he watched Chris's beautiful eyes scan the words, his sleek pink lips moving as he silently mouthed the words to himself.

 

“Sounds interesting,” he finally voiced. His tone didn't sound fake, exactly, but to Jonny it felt as though Chris was not really enthused. Not as enthused as he was, at least. “You're going to do it, then? You're going to write something for it?”

 

“Actually,” Jonny nervously replied, his palms slick with the makings of sweat as Chris looked up to him, “I was hoping maybe you'd want to write something with me. You know, we'd be coauthors, and... you know.”

 

Whatever excitement had been missing from Chris's demeanor before was instantly lit up inside the thirty-three-year-old man. His back arched as he sat up, bright eyes gleaming with prospective creativity.

 

“Yeah, all right!” he quickly exclaimed, then leaving his piano he set off for another room. Jonny followed him tentatively.

 

Chris stood in the corner, fussing over a torn apart and worn out cardboard box. From the bottom he dug out a clunky piece of machinery, coated with a thick layer of dust from what might have been decades of neglect. He began to run his fingers over it in an attempt to free it of the dust, but Jonny stopped him before he got too far.

 

“Chris,” he said. Chris looked up at him with eyes that could have shot and killed innocent pedestrians on the sidewalk, all the while maintaining an innocent, youthful disguise. The perfect crime- no one would have ever noticed the gun his pupils held, not with those vibrant irises in the way. Jonny fumbled for his words. “What are you doing?”

 

“Um... cleaning this off.” He held up the ancient machine and dusted it off again.

 

“I was thinking we could probably write it with my laptop,” Jonny said. “It might be easier than a typewriter.”

 

Chris firmly held the typewriter with both hands, silent for the few moments that proceeded. “Good point,” he replied, and carelessly tossed the typewriter back into the cardboard box. There was a sound like the shattering of glass, but Chris didn't bother to find out what had broken; instead, he widened his already enormous eyes at Jonny and then nearly ran for the door.

 

In the safety of the room with the piano, Chris collapsed onto the piano bench and waited for Jonny to walk up to him.

 

“Dear Jonny, I would think that we should get your typewriter-” Chris shook his head, his curls bouncing accordingly, “I mean, laptop, and start to write this thing.”

 

“That would be a good idea.” Jonny looked up to the ceiling and wondered if his next sentence would have any sort of real impact on his life. “It's at home.”

 

“Then to home we go!” Chris jumped up and grabbed Jonny's arm at the elbow, pulling him along and not stopping or letting go until they reached the hood of Jonny's car.

 

Jonny pulled out his keys and unlocked the car, then Chris immediately threw himself inside. About twenty minutes later, Chris was hopping out just as quickly, though this time he stood in front of Jonny's apartment building.

 

“Which one's yours, Jonny?” Chris asked, reminding Jonny that hardly anyone had ever been to his apartment. As he pointed vaguely to one of the windows on the second floor and said, “That one,” he wondered if he'd even cleaned up enough. If not, he was going to be so embarrassed.

 

“Oh, cool.” Chris looked up at the sky and waited around for Jonny to lead him into the building. Then he stared up at the cracked and off-white ceiling tiles as they made their way up the stairs, and he nearly tripped as a result.

 

“Careful,” Jonny said as he felt Chris's shoulder bump into his. Chris was already walking dangerously close to him, and he was afraid that any further touching might lead to something not so good.

 

The top step creaked as the two men pushed their weight upon it, and Chris waited there, for there wasn't much room on the small landing above for anything else apart from Jonny, who was busy shoving his keys into the lock on his door.

 

“Isn't it bothersome having an apartment in between two flights of stairs like that?” Chris asked. He shut the door behind him even though Jonny had planned to, but Jonny had entered the apartment first to give Chris room to walk in, so it would have been impractical for him to close it.

 

“Eh, sometimes.” Jonny walked past the couch in the front room, but as he passed it he pointed and said, “Take a seat, I'll be right out.”

 

Chris sat down on the tattered brown couch, occupying the cushion right in the middle. He brought his knees together tightly and clasped his hands in his lap, humming to himself. He realized after a while that it was the “shit piece” he'd been playing earlier, and his good mood seemed to drift a little. But then Jonny returned carrying a slim, black laptop, and he felt a bit better.

 

Even though there was no need for him to, since there was plenty of room on either side of his body for Jonny to sit, Chris moved over as Jonny drew nearer. Chris moved almost right up against the armrest, and Jonny took over Chris's previous seat.

 

“OK, so...” Jonny opened up a new Word document, and the cursor blinked on the blank page as he looked at Chris.

 

Chris was staring down at the hem of his shirt, which seemed to have an interesting loose string that Chris was playing with. He seemed so captivated by it that Jonny wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to catch Chris's attention. But after only a few seconds of Jonny staring, Chris looked up at him and innocently said, “Hmm?”

 

“Where do you think we should start?” Jonny asked, and to save himself he turned to the bright computer screen, shining white with the lack of content.

 

“Hmm, I don't know,” Chris softly said. He thought for a moment, blue eyes shot up to the ceiling, and then giggled. “The beginning?”

 

“That would be a good place to start,” Jonny laughed in return, though not daring to glance upon Chris's bright smile. He quickly and perhaps stupidly typed The Beginning, then hit the enter key a few times. “Actually, I think we should come up with characters first.”

 

“You and me, man! It will be a brilliant story.”

 

“I suppose.” Jonny tilted his head to the side and stared at the computer. He could barely make out Chris's reflection in the screen, and part of him wanted to look away, while the other wanted to stare for as long as possible.

 

“Start off like this,” Chris said, holding his hands out in front of him. He waved them a little before he spoke again. “Chris was just an ordinary man- no. Jonny was just an ordinary man, an ordinary guy who liked to... I don't know, do stuff.” Chris dropped his hands and turned his body towards Jonny. “That's all I've got.”

 

“Maybe...” Jonny trailed off, but his fingers picked up on his thoughts and he typed almost without thinking. Pretty soon he had a few paragraphs written down, the first third of the page filled and the words spilling into the second third. Chris read, leaning into Jonny though it was not at all necessary. He'd have been able to see even if he had remained motionless where he was before.

 

In the quietness of his apartment, Jonny could only hear the whooshing of the laptop's fan, and the oxygen being brought into Chris's lungs, along with the carbon dioxide being exhaled. He could even feel Chris's chest move with each breath, since Chris had taken it upon himself to press half of his torso against Jonny's side.

 

“That's so... It's wonderful.” Chris sat back, both to Jonny's delight and dismay, but his words still left a tingle shooting through Jonny's stomach. Compliments always made him a little flustered, and Chris's compliments just made him downright woozy.

 

“Uh, thanks,” Jonny breathlessly said, then he passed the laptop to Chris. He tried to, anyway, but Chris refused to take it. “Come on, you have to write something now.”

 

“Jonny, anything I write will look like shit compared to that.” Chris pushed the very bottom of the laptop back onto Jonny's lap, so that when the laptop was in a stable position, Chris's hand was still resting on Jonny's leg. “You should write it, but I'll help. I think I have an idea for it...”

 

“What's your idea?” Jonny took a risk and met Chris's eyes with his own. He wasn't shocked that Chris's look shook him entirely, but he was shocked by Chris's response.

 

“It could be a love story!” he said with a brilliant passion that lit his entire face.

 

“L-Love story?” Jonny stammered. He wasn't sure what to do with this situation, so he waited for Chris to explain before he did anything stupid.

 

“Well, like... maybe you just broke up with your girlfriend, or your girlfriend dumped you or something, and then you're really sad, but I come along and I cheer you up, and we go out to bars to pick chicks up, but it doesn't go so well because you're still really depressed and I repel chicks like I'm some sort of spray.”

 

Nowhere in Chris's long-winded description did Jonny hear what he wanted, but he was actually a little glad for it. He shifted a little; the laptop was starting to get a bit heated.

 

“All right.” Jonathan briefly glanced over what he'd already written, then began to press more keys and create even more genius work. Chris watched him, now sitting just as closely as he had been before, and Jonny almost couldn't concentrate on the story. He pulled through, though, and once the first few pages were written he took a break.

 

“Jonny, you are so talented,” Chris said in awe.

 

“Thanks,” Jonny said in disbelief, and he set the laptop on the empty sofa cushion next to him and stretched his legs a little. “Do you want some tea or anything?”

 

“That would be lovely, thank you.” Chris smiled, and Jonny had to wait a few seconds for his legs to stabilize before he stood up and went into the kitchen.

 

 

 

Part 2

 

 

At the very same moment that the clock struck twelve, Jonny's eyes flew open. The lights were on all around him, but it was obvious that it was nighttime. His heart raced just a little as he struggled to bring himself into consciousness.

 

He closed his eyes and he sighed, desperately wishing that he was asleep again. It was at this time that he noticed a sort of pressure around the upper left part of his chest and on his shoulder. He was too tired to check what it was, though, and as he tried to drift back into sleep, he thought he still felt the laptop running and heating his legs...

 

It was another one of those dreams, the ones where Jonny was happy. Not that he wasn't happy in real life, just that he wasn't as happy as he'd like to be. The dreams taunted him, mostly when he thought back to them during his waking hours, though sometimes he would purposely turn to them as an escape from stress.

 

There was never really anything distinct he could remember about those dreams apart from the overwhelming sense of peace and serenity he felt. It was nice while it lasted.

 

This time the feeling lasted long after the dream ended, and he found himself waking up with his nose buried in Chris's hair. He wasn't aware of it at first, and he could only smell the wonderful citrus smell of Chris's shampoo and conditioner. Then suddenly he realized what that pressure long ago had been, and he still felt the heat of the laptop.

 

He quickly lifted his head and blinked at the screen in front of him. At some point the laptop charger had been plugged in, which explained the lengthy battery duration, but that's not what Jonny focused on. He and Chris had written quite a lot of the story, but there was a new part written that he did not recall being there hours before, when neither of them were asleep.

 

Either Jonny's quick movements did it, or Chris had already been awake, but Chris moved a little as Jonny was reading the new words. Chris sat up when he realized what was going on, and he even backed into the armrest a bit as if he was afraid of what Jonny would do when he was finished reading.

 

“You were falling asleep and I'd gotten an idea so I just took over,” Chris quietly explained. “It's awful, I know. You can rewrite it if you want.”

 

“No, it's good,” Jonny sincerely said, but Chris knew that Jonny hadn't read far enough to really react to it. Then Jonny stopped and turned to Chris. “If I was falling asleep, why didn't you tell me to wake up or anything? And you didn't have to sleep here, or at least I could have let you sleep in my room or something and I'd have taken the couch...”

 

Chris let Jonny finish speaking, even though Jonny had just kinda trailed off. He watched with observant eyes, thought for a while, then shrugged in reply. Jonny could tell that Chris wanted to say something, but for some reason he was holding back.

 

Jonny slowly returned his focus to the story. Chris bit his lip in anticipation as Jonny started to read once more, and Jonny was surprised by the uncanny similarities to the current situation.

 

'Why are you doing all of this?' Jonny asked. 'I mean, being so nice and stuff. You should have your own life, you shouldn't be bothered with mine.'

 

Chris looked down at his cup and shrugged. Jonny just shook his head and pressed on.

 

'Come on, there's gotta be some reason. It's not that I don't appreciate your concern, I just want to know why you're putting so much effort into all of this, especially since you've been doing it for the past few weeks now.'

 

'Because I like you,' Chris said. 'I just want you to be happy and stuff.'

 

'Don't you want to be happy, too? You don't...' While Jonny struggled to find what to say next, Chris looked up at him.

 

'No, Jonny, I really like you. I'll be happy when you're happy.' Chris paused for a few moments, then asked, 'Are you happy?'

 

'You like me?' Jonny asked almost incredulously, completely ignoring Chris's inquiry. Chris felt as though some sort of weight had been dropped on his chest.

 

'It's just, you know, we've been friends for so long and...' Chris looked away again, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. He told himself it was just the alcohol that was making him so emotional, but really he knew it was just fear. 'Sometimes things just happen, right?'

 

Jonny felt his cheeks grow hot as he read. His pulse quickened a bit, and as he glanced over at Chris he noticed the same expression, the same look of fear as was described in the story.

 

“I don't think they just happen,” Jonny said in a husky voice. Chris drew a sharp breath, not sure what to make of it. “I think maybe if there are two people... It's just meant to...” Jonny looked fully at Chris, and his voice quavered a little as he finished, “...be.”

 

Chris made a face like he was trying to convince himself that this was all real, that everything he'd wanted for the last few months was finally being given to him. The only thing he could think to do was to move closer to Jonny and just sort of wait.

 

Chris's hand rested on the very edge of the cushion on which he was sitting, Jonny's only inches away. Jonny paused briefly, then he moved the laptop onto the seat next to him much like he had done the night before. This time, though, he didn't stand up, he just placed his hand on top of Chris's.

 

Chris exhaled a shaky breath and said, “Jonny, I was so afraid-”

 

“There's nothing to be afraid of,” Jonny told him. He took his other hand and gently brushed Chris's cheek.

 

Chris smiled at him, then leaned forward to press their lips together, but he stopped before he did. “I've never been with a guy before.”

 

“Neither have I,” Jonny softly replied. “But I'm glad the first'll be you.”

 

It was Jonny who closed the gap between them, and both men closed their eyes as their hands seemed to wander over each other's bodies. Jonny soon found it necessary to relocate the laptop again to the floor as he laid down and pulled Chris on top of him.

 

“We could write this into the story, you know,” Chris whispered, and laughed a little.

 

“I don't feel like writing anymore,” Jonny meagerly replied.

 

“Oh?” Chris asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively. “What do you feel like doing, then?”

 

“This.” Jonny slipped his hand around the back of Chris's neck and pulled him down a little, kissing him as passionately as possible. When they broke apart, Chris found himself utterly speechless, so he merely let his head rest on Jonny's chest.

 

Jonny bent his head down a bit and kissed the top of Chris's head, the citrus smell wafting over him again. He smiled, and realized that with the rapid beating of his heart and flipping of his stomach came that happiness that he so desired. It was almost too perfect to be true, like maybe this was just another dream or a clip of fictional writing, but Jonny was confident that it was neither, because he felt it so deeply that it could not possibly be anything but real.

 

 

 

 

 

 

for anyone who wants to know, this was my challenge, as given to me by jackie:

 

Plot: Chris and Jonny are writing fiction about themselves. (so it's like a story about writing a story :P)

Characters: C&J (other members of the band optional)

Line that must be used: "It could be a love story!"

 

 

:awesome:

 

Plot Challenge story :D

 

Katie Glynn

 

 

 

The air was heavy with a thick musky fog. It hung in the air like a net, draped over every surface casting shadows on the brick walls and buildings. A faint smell of jasmine and cinnamon floated in the air adding to the ere of mystic. Night was quickly befalling the sleeping city of London.

 

Down a crooked ally way, hidden deep within the shadows sat a fortuneteller. She was heavily adorned in bangles and many bright colored stone rings that emphasized her long worn fingers. The woman was wrapped in a deep purple cloak that hid her frail figure deep within its many folds. Her wiry hair peeked out from the hood of the cloak adding to her entire demeanor. She laid her hands on top of her make shift table and awaited the passing of a foolish man. She was one of the best in her line of business; always able to lure in her bait with a false hope and then suck them dry and leave them pondering their purpose in life. She did this day in and day out. It was how she lived.

 

The locals were vastly aware of her ways and often whispers would be passed amongst themselves. Oft the whispers were “she has gone and done her deed, and left him to the dark corners of her twisted mind.” She would chew them and spit them out. And who is this fortuneteller you might be asking? She has many names, the devils advocate, shadow crawler, grave creator. But her real name is Katie Glynn.

 

A tall man dressed to the nines just got out of his carriage and began to walk down the gravel drive to ward his hotel. He had spent the evening gambling and surprisingly had come away with money still in his pocket. A brisk wind had started to blow causing his top hat to blow off his head and down the street. It tumbled further and further away. The man stumbled after that hat heavily influenced by the numerous shots of whiskey he had during the night. Looking up he saw the hat roll down the alleyway. Grumbling to himself he continued to chase after his top hat until he could no longer see it. It was as if it had vanished into thin air.

 

The man scratched the back of his head, looked around the ally and then saw his hat. Miss. Katie was cradling it in her scarecrow hands. She flashed him a toothless smile and stretched forth her hand toward him. He took his hat and mumbled a thank you and turned to leave, but stopped when he heard her speak. The voice did not match Miss. Katie, it was no nails against a chalk board, but a sweet harmonious chorus of angels.

 

“I know you hearts desire young man. I know how you have been visiting her for the last 3 months, I know how you can get her, I know!”

 

Entranced by her melodic voice the man simply nodded his head and dragged his feet close to her. She grinned again and beckoned him into her shack. That was the last time the man was ever heard off.

 

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“Datson! Have you feed the dog? It’s doing that thing again, you know when it lays there and doesn’t move.”

 

“Bones, you lazy sack of cow dung, it’s dead! It was your turn to feed him too. Ood God can you do anything right?”

 

“Sometimes, but that would make my statistics much too high and you know how I like my reputation to be only slightly better than the police.”

 

Datson Ford shot Sherbet Bones a death glare from across the room and then proceeded to open the blinds and let in the non existent sunlight.

 

“Ah what a typical London morning.. rain and grey skys. My favorite.” Bones exclaimed

 

“Shut your pie hole Bones, we have a new case!”

 

“Ford if this is about the fat woman down the street it was her niece that stole her apple turn over’s and her son set the cat’s tail of fire killing the dreadful thing.”

 

“So glad of you to clear that up for us!” Datson announced with a fake gasp of astonishment. “No you imbecile this is quite different. Apparently Lord Duston was in town from Ireland for the weekend. He was here gambling away the family fortune like all Lords do. Well his body has just washed up in the Thames. But the interesting part was on his forehead was a bright cherry red lipstick kiss mark. It is known as..”

 

“ The sign of love and devotion, ha it is no other than the sign of Miss. Katie Glynn, the psychotic fortuneteller who tried to coax me into her shack of a home. Do you know what this means Ford?”

 

“We are going to find her and hand her over to the police whilst almost getting our selves killed and having me ruin once again one of my best suits?”

 

“No! We can sit here and finish our cup of tea, and enjoy the pitiful I mean beautiful morning. And that suit is awful Datson, be sure to cast it into the fire.”

 

“I’m not amused Bones.”

 

“I never expected you to be. Now listen here, we will go out and find Katie Glynn, but first I need a cupcake.” Datsun just sat there staring at Sherbet wondering if he should make a comment and risk being humiliated or to just go and find a cupcake.

 

“Your sitting there wondering whether to make a comment and how humiliated you will be when I retort back or to just go and get me a cupcake, well first off I want chocolate with those tiny sprinkles and second why are you still sitting there?”

 

Datsun stood up and made sure to kick the back of Sherbet’s chair as he went to find a cupcake.

 

“Sprinkles Datsun sprinkles! Those are of grave importance!”

 

“I’ll show you what’s important.” Datsun closed the door and went in search of the holy cupcake.

 

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“So the last time she was seen was when she was gathering the rat’s from the sewers?”

 

“Ay Mr. Bones. Just ore there she was sat a pickin’ em up bys their tails. It was a gruesome sight if I evers saws ones.”

 

“I see, well thank you Mr. Braumwell.”

 

Sherbet Bones turned and strolled up the street, he was investigating some leads he had discovered about his case and was getting closer to his culpret.

 

Up ahead Ford was sitting on the bench with a newspaper across his lap. He had a most awkward looking facial expression and kept glancing downward at the paper.

 

“Trying a new look Ford? Paper pants? A way of the future?”

 

Datsun looked up at Sherbet and simply grimaced at him.

 

“Hmm well then I detect you are hiding something beneath that newspaper.”

 

Datsun looked up in alarm and stuttered "Nnnnooo, no no nothing I’m not hiding anything. Nothing at all, just enjoying this paper on my lap, apparently there is going to be an election coming up and they parliament is in uproars over..”

 

Sherbet reached out and tried to snatch the newspaper from Datsun’s lap, but both men grabbed at the paper and tore it in half. Datsun was quick and crossed his legs and placed his hands in his lap.

 

“Damit Datsun! Just show it to me already!”

 

Datsun’s checks went a bright shade of pink and he shock his head back and forth.

 

“I am highly trained in the arts of crossleggedfixedness and know how to use it, now show or be warned!”

 

Datsun sat there for a second and then slowly uncrossed his legs.

 

“My God Datsun, what have you done?”

 

“Nothing, I’ve done nothing, it’s stuck.”

 

“Oh you naughty man you, was it the fat lady? I saw her looking in your direction? I think you two would be splendidly happy together or wait was it the lady with the face full of moles? She would do that to me too!”

 

“Holmes I swear on my mothers mothers fathers uncles brothers roommates nephew I will kill you if you don’t put a cork it in and help me.”

 

“Help you eh? In what way? I’m quite good with my hands but I’m not sure about my..”

 

“Forget it you sly fox. Just give me your trench, hopefully It will cover it.”

 

“My my, I sure hope it does, that quite a bit large to cover and I’m not sure my coat will do it.”

 

“How would you like to die Bones? Slow, painful? Cause I will make it happen!”

 

“Haha Enough enough I jest, here have my coat, but lets continue with our case, perhaps some walking will erm help.”

 

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“So how did you know that crooked Miss. Katie Glynn was the murder? The coroner found no way of death, yet here he is dead. All that was left was the kiss mark on his forehead?”

 

“My dear dear police man, my story is far far above your comprehension level, I can draw this in pictures, but I doubt that will help. Let’s see I asked the local when they had last seen her, she was collecting rats, intresting hobby I suppose, but I deviate. Katie Glynn is famous amongst my people for her interesting mark of the kiss. It’s her kiss of death if you will. Anyway she used the rat-tail juice to create a ‘potion’. Not a real potion of course, but just something to fool the Lord into thinking it was real. It was in fact poison the juice of the tail mixed with teriyaki sauce and blood create a deadly poison that is not traceable by a coroner.”

 

“If it’s not traceable then how do you know?”

 

“Why it’s quite elementary my dear police man. Katie Glynn is dead back in her hell hole in the ally. She was creating the concoction again for her next victim when I happen to drunkenly stumble upon her. She beckoned me in claiming to know my hearts desire about some girl. Well first off she was complexly wrong there, but I continued to let her go at it.”

 

“Bones are you meaning to tell me you fancy someone?” Ford exclaimed.

 

“That is precisely what I mean my dear Ford.” Bones said with a twinkle in his eye.

 

“Well that is fine and dandy but what of Miss. Katie Glynn Mr. Bones?” The police man asked.

 

“Right, well she does this thing where she will come up with this absurd tale of how you can get your love by drinking her potion but it will cost you. She also makes a show off how she will drink to your love as well. You see she makes two one with the poison and one without. She gives you the poison and then drinks her safe one. Well I made sure that while she was not looking I added sprinkles to her drink. Then I pretended to drink to the love of my life.”

 

“You added sprinkles to her drink?” Ford cried out.

 

“Yes, Datsun! Sprinkles that is why I had you get me a cupcake. I ate the chocolate goodness and saved the sprinkles. You see when sprinkles are added to her potion they create a poison and that is why Miss. Katie is lying dead in her shack.”

 

“Well done Mr. Bones! You have solved the mysterious case of Katie Glynn! You have our most sincere gratitude.”

 

“And none of mine, come Ford we have business to take care off.”

 

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“Datsun, you need to be more careful in public. I thought you didn’t like me anymore.”

 

“Sherbet it was you that did that to me, now stop talking and take me to bed.”

 

“Oh feisty we are tonight! I like this.”

 

Datsun and Sherbet were quick to rip each other’s clothes off. They fell on to the bed grabbing and pulling each other closer. Moans of joy and pleasure were shouted. Hair was ruffled and sheets discarded. Soon they reached their climax and lay entangled together breathing in each other’s sweet aromas.

 

“Datsun you have taken me to the moon and back!”

 

“As have you Sherbet, but you know what I have that is going to make this better?”

 

“Newspaper?”

 

“Cupcakes with sprinkles.”

 

“You naughty naughty man. How you tempt me!”

 

“Come here so I can rub it on your chest and then lick it off.”

 

“With pleasure Ford, with pleasure!”

 

 

here is what Rachel challenged me with!

Plot: Chris and Jon are back to their alter egos Sherbet Bones and Datsun Ford investigating the mysterious case of Katie Glynn.

Characters to be included (but not limited to): Chris (Sherbet), Jonny (Datsun), Katie

Line that has to be used: “Datsun! Just show it to me already!”

 

 

 

 

The Turtle

 

 

 

 

One day I was walking on the beach. It was so lovely; the sand was warm and so was the air, but not too warm. The breeze from the ocean kept the temperature at a cool level.

 

As my hands and feet glided over the sand I craned my neck a bit to see my surroundings. Being the nice summer day it was, there were plenty of people at the beach. But I kept an eye out for a special pair.

 

See, it was a few years ago that I stumbled upon these creatures, at a time that was very odd to be stumbling upon... well, anything, really. It was springtime, but very early on, and it was certainly not a time to visit the beach.

 

But there they were, two tall young men, one running feet ahead of the other, both laughing. I could tell from that very moment that there was something special about them. And not just because they seemed to have no care for what the weather was like.

 

When the lankier one stopped running and turned around to wait for the other one, there was a tiny flash in his eyes of something like I'd never seen before. It was some sort of light, some sort of brilliance inside him that ached to break free of its human prison. Whoever this man was, he was going to go far, that was for sure.

 

The next week they showed up again, acting like they had before. If I could have, I would have asked why they came at such an odd time of the year. Alas, it was impossible, so I just watched them again to amuse myself.

 

Rain fell down on the sandy grounds for the following weeks, and it was safe to assume that they would not appear for a while. I was only half right; one day the lanky one came and sat down very close to where I was. I think he saw me, and stared for a little bit, but then he looked back out to the ocean. He seemed sad.

 

Summer arrived then, and I saw more of the two men, though oftentimes they were accompanied by a young lady as well. The lanky man ran around, as it seemed to be quite a characteristic of his, while the other man stayed behind with the lady. He and she always seemed to walk very close, heads together, always talking about something.

 

During fall and winter I was gone, and so I do not know if they ever came in those seasons. Once spring returned, so did the men. The lady was no longer around, and the lanky man looked as though he had even more energy than before. I think once he attempted to do a cartwheel even, though if I recall correctly he did not succeed.

 

Then another lady was with them, but only once, and she looked very similar to the lanky man. She might have been a sister.

 

Fall and winter arrived and left, and the very first day I revisited the beach I was blessed with their company. Right then it felt almost as though I was watching them grow a little, and I wondered if they knew that I was there the whole time, watching them, sensing the truth they were both hiding.

 

It was a cloudy day. Not storm clouds, though, just beautiful puffs of white dashing across the deep blue sky. I loved days like this, and there was something in the air that made it even better. There was just this sense that something was going to happen.

 

The lanky man may have felt it, too. While he and the other man were sitting near to where I rested, he turned and smiled, the same passion I had first seen in him longing once more to be set free.

 

He leaned over and whispered something in the other man's ear, then the other man looked at him. Slowly the two leaned towards each other and the moment came that everyone had been waiting for. Well, the three of us had been waiting for it, certainly. I don't know that anyone else would have been interested.

 

In my many years of watching over a beach where people loved to make out, I'd never seen such a sweet couple as those two. Even when they were not together, they were, in a very strange, very spiritual way.

 

I did not see them all on this nice summer day, cooled by the ocean breeze. It made me worry a little.

 

But then the day began to fade as the sun began to set, and somewhere among the pink and orange streaks I caught a glimpse of two men walking together. Their hands were intertwined, their souls finally connected, and as they walked and passed by, they stopped.

 

"Hey, Jonny, look at this cute little guy," the lanky man said.

 

The man called Jonny stared down at me and smiled. "Aww."

 

I tried to interact with them, but I'm not sure it worked so well. It was strange; I felt as though I was one of their close friends, yet that was clearly far from reality. They had never known me before in their lives.

 

"That's so weird, the way he's moving his mouth looks like he's trying to talk to us or something."

 

I was trying to talk to them, and this is what I had said: I am so glad I have met you two, for I feel as much a part of you as you yourselves. You may not know it, but I have watched as you have progressed through your relationship, and I can tell that there are only good things left to come in the future for you both.

 

"Yeah, it kinda does," Jonny agreed, and the two men left again.

 

Ah, but they were so happy, and that's all that mattered.

 

 

It can't be undone.

Chapter 1

 

 

Hammer nail hammer nail. The pattern was consistent, place a nail in the correct spot then swing the hammer and hit it the head into it’s place in line. It was therapy to the man who was swinging the hammer. He was building the frame of the house he planned to live in from that day forward. The plans had been designed many years ago then discarded when another opportunity arose, but now that the incident had taken place he felt the need to escape from that world and start fresh elsewhere.

 

The man had driven many hours in an old beaten pick up truck with building supplies in the back, searching for the place to start over. He had found that spot high up in the mountains. It was a stunning alcove that over looked the North Sea. All around him was the true beauty of earth. No sky rises, concrete jungles, and none of the people he never wanted to see again. The man had told no one where he had gone. He left his computer, his phone, and any other device that would allow someone to communicate with him. He didn’t want to be found. Not until he felt at ease with himself after what had occurred.

 

The plan for the house was simple. It consisted of the basic needs and nothing more. It had always been his ideal place of serenity. The frame took shape quickly, he had been working on it since the breaking of dawn and it showed. Sweat drops glistened down his shirtless back. Muscles ached from the long day of hard labor. The sun had burned him, but he didn’t care, it would be a deep tan in the morning. He was proud. Proud because of what he had accomplished, but there was still that twinge of sorrow, he knew that he would always feel it. It would be his constant companion from now on, he just hopped it would get easier, but it wouldn’t.

 

Day after day he did the same thing, he would rise with the sun, build his home from the inside out until the sun sunk back behind the mountains again. He was meticulous about every detail. Making sure that no surface was left un-sanded or corner primed and painted. He knew how to do it all; he had trained to do such work. It would have been his profession, he had plans to open a business where he would design homes and then build them and landscape them. But that feel through and he found himself placing those ideas into boxes in the carriage to gather dust.

 

Soon the frame became walls and the walls became rooms and the rooms became a house, but that house would only be a house. It could never become a home. It was lacking another warm body and it would forever.

 

The man had completed the house. It was a modest thing and it would suit his needs to perfection and nothing else. It would not create a family, it would not bring him comfort, it would not change his past, it would not have a warm heat beating, but it would do most everything else which is all he could hold on to.