The Best Years Of Your Life

Chapter Seven: Trying To Move On

 

 

 

 

Jonny's PoV

 

"Jonny...Jonny" Sophie said. I was ignoring her. I just walked off, to Geography. I sat down in my usual seat, the one nearest the window on the back row- next to Guy. Chris was on the other side of the room, trying to ignore me. Sophie doesn't take Geography, an excuse to get away from her.

 

The lesson began and as usual me and Guy didn't listen. Mr Booth wasn't a very interesting teacher and didn't seem to mind if we didn't listen whether that was because he did not mind or that he couldn't be bothered to do anything. Anyway, he wouldn't want to mess with Guy, last time some teacher had a go at Guy- Guy kidnapped his dog.

 

"Guy" I said. He wasn't being his usual self. He knew, of course he knew, I almost forgot. "I'm sorry"

 

"Sorry for what?" Guy asked.

 

"Do you know?" I asked, starting to question myself.

 

"About you and Chris? Yes" Guy replied.

 

"What do you think?" I asked, treading carefully.

 

"What do I think? I think you are making a bloody big mistake, you've got a girlfriend" Guy exclaimed, however trying to be quiet.

 

"I know I am, well, I did" I said before taking a deep breath. "But...it's over now"

 

"Really? Was it just a one-night sexual exploration?" Guy said, grinning.

 

"I...I guess so" I said, smirking.

 

"Well...Chris doesn't seem to think so!" Guy said.

 

"Oh...he does" I said, scratching my head.

 

"Y'know, I always thought he was gay" Guy said. "But not you, you seem too masculine!"

 

"That's because..." I said, lowering my voice. "I am not"

 

"Good to know!"

 

"Hey...you haven't told anyone, have you?" I asked, my eyebrows raised.

 

"No, of course not, what sort of friend would do that? I was just shocked when Chris told me" Guy said, brushing his hair to one side.

 

"Well, at least, say sorry to Chris, he is gutted that you two have fallen out" I said, trying to make myself feel better for betraying Chris.

 

"Yeah...I guess I have been a bit harsh" Guy said.

 

I saw Chris look over at us. I looked back and smiled, he ignored me. I deserved it.

 

The lesson continued for about another twenty minutes, and for the first time in my life at school, I listened to the lesson and actually learnt some stuff as I tried to forget. The bell rang and I saw Guy rush out of his seat and run to talk to Chris.

 

I strolled past, trying to catch what they were saying, they were smiling- that was good enough. I made my way to the toilets in which I stared into the mirror. Re-arranging my hair, and washing my face, I looked at the guy I had become, the guy I saw in the mirror- the guy I didn't like.

 

 

 

The Best Years Of Your Life

Chapter Eight: Two Can Play At That Game

 

 

 

 

Chris' PoV

 

"I'm just glad we are friends again" I said, shaking Guy's hand.

 

"Best friends, dude. Best friends" Guy said, winking before walking off. This made me a hell of a lot happier. Now all I had to do was make up with Jonny. I started walking towards my next lesson- English, upstairs. As I made my way up the stairs, someone tapped me on the shoulder, I turned around- it was a girl I had never seen before.

 

"Hello" she said.

 

"Hello?" I replied, my eyebrows raised and a grin on my face.

 

"Hi Chris, my name is Jane, I saw you square up to Sophie earlier, that was very brave of you" Jane said, flicking her long, blonde hair.

 

"Thank you" I said. "I'll see you later Jane" I continued to walk upstairs but paused and looked back.

 

"Hey...Jane" I said.

 

"Yes?"

 

"I don't know if you are doing anything after school...we should meet up" I said, smiling. She smiled back.

 

"I would love to" she replied.

 

"Great, I'll meet you at the front of the school after the last lesson, yes?" I asked.

 

"Great" Jane said.

 

"Alright then, it's a date, I'll see you there then" I said, continuing upstairs, grinning.

 

------------------

 

The bell rang. It was the end of school. I ran down the school stairs, several teachers stared at me but I continued and waited patiently at the front of school for a girl I had only met a few hours ago. I waited a couple of minutes when I heard a voice calling my name. It didn't sound feminine. It was Jonny.

 

"Jonny" I said, sighing.

 

"Chris" he said. "I'm sorry"

 

"What the hell did I do?" I said, not trying to get too angry.

 

"You did nothing!" Jonny said.

 

"Then why did you treat me like shit?" I exclaimed.

 

"Because I'm a coward!" Jonny said.

 

"Yes that is exactly right, you are a coward!" I snarled.

 

"I'll finish with her, I promise" Jonny replied.

 

"You said that before, but you seem to be closer than ever, if you don't finish with her- I will" I exclaimed. At that moment Jane came up to me.

 

"Hi Chris" she said. I smiled at her and then looked to Jonny.

 

"Who's that?" Jonny asked.

 

"This...Jonny, is Jane" I said.

 

"Nice to meet you Jane" Jonny said, obviously not very happy. "So" he said, looking to me. "Are you staying at mine tonight?"

 

"No" I said. "I'll see you around Jonny" I continued, taking hold of Jane's hand and leading her away.

 

 

 

The Best Years Of Your Life

Chapter Nine: Stepping On Broken Glass

 

 

 

 

Jonny's PoV

 

"Oi! Jonnyboy!" Sophie shouted as she ran up to me, hugged me and quickly kissed me. "I haven't seen you since this morning"

 

I watched Chris and Jane walk away, ignoring Sophie until she hit me in the arm.

"Ow!" I exclaimed.

 

"Then...listen to me babe!" Sophie said, grinning as she chewed gum. "You coming round to mine then and have a repeat of what happened last time you came over!"

 

Not knowing what to say, I said, stupidly.."Yes"

 

"Alright then" Sophie said, grasping my hand and leading me down the road to her house.

 

The second we walked into her house, she slammed the door and slammed me against it and proceeded to take my clothes off- I let her, she lead me upstairs and into her bedroom where she pushed me onto the bed.

 

"No" I said, feeling insecure.

 

"No?" Sophie said. "What the fuck do you mean, No?"

 

"I want to stop this now?" I said, smiling, trying to be kind about the whole thing.

 

"Well" Sophie said, standing up "You don't have to have sex"

 

"No, no, it's not the sex. I want to stop everything. I want to stop us" I said, acting bravely for the first time in my life.

 

"Why?" Sophie asked, bluntly, no tears- no nothing and for the first time in our whole relationship- I respected her, with a dignified response like that- she deserved a proper, truthful answer.

 

"I'm not going to lie to you" I said, taking a deep breath.

 

"Then don't, tell me the truth" Sophie demanded.

 

"You deserve the truth, and I will tell you the truth" Thinking before I spoke, I blurted it out; "I'm gay"

 

Sophie screamed and started punching me. "I'm sorry" I repeated over and over again.

 

"Who is it?" she demanded to know.

 

"No one- I swear, I've not been with anyone, it is how I feel" I said, sighing. "I'm sorry"

 

"I don't want to hear your apologies" Sophie exclaimed. "Believe it or not- I loved you Jonny"

 

I put my hand on her shoulder, she pushed it away.

 

"Did you love me?" she asked.

 

"No" I said, trying not to get emotional. "No I did not"

 

"Get your clothes on Jonny!" Sophie said. "Get your clothes on and get out- I never want to see you again if I can help it!"

 

"Fair enough" I said, starting to pick up my clothes.

 

"Do you think that you are going to get away with it this easily?" Sophie said, laughing. "If you did then you are so wrong, I am going to tell everyone, your best friends, Chris, Guy, Will, everyone, even your mum!"

 

"Please don't"

 

"Oh I will" Sophie said, grinning.

 

"No you won't" I said, closing the bedroom door and turning to face Sophie. "Like fuck you will!"

 

 

 

A Message

 

 

 

 

A song was missing, we felt it so.

The record was unbalanced, something needed to go

in there to fix it, but we weren't quite sure what.

It seemed we were stuck in quite a rut.

One night Chris went home, as he usually would,

and the next morning he came back with something spectacularly good.

"Fellows, gather round," he said to us all,

"I'll play you this song if you come out of the hall."

So we three filled the room along with dear Chris,

and he played us the song that was magical bliss.

"My word, Chris, you've done it!" enthusiastically said by Will,

and we all took turns to awe at Chris's skill.

We asked him to humor us, to hear our plead

and tell us how it came about; reluctantly, he agreed.

"I'll tell you the truth, but I hope you can take it

For you see, my friends, I wrote this song naked."

And not one of us could believe the words that he spoke

Will was left with wide eyes, Guy looked like he'd had a stroke.

But I was calm, for I had actually be lying ere.

It was no surprise, because when Chris wrote it, I was there.

It was a good story to tell the fans, made the girls go crazy

and swoon and nearly faint, acting quite hazy.

Imagine what would have happened had they known I was there as well-

it's possible our lives could have become total hell.

The information, if leaked, would cause an absolute fuss,

and so for that reason we'll keep it just between us.

 

 

-

-

The Best Years Of Your Life

Chapter Ten: As One Door Closes...Another One Opens

 

 

 

 

Jonny's PoV

 

"Jonny" Sophie said slowly. She was beginning to get scared. I knew she was but I couldn't sit back and watch her as she ruined my whole life.

 

"You" I said sternly, pointing my finger. "Are going to listen closely"

 

"Let me go!" Sophie exclaimed. "I'll scream"

 

I paused and pondered the thought of me being caught in this compromising position. A guy keeping captive and threatening a half naked girl. It wouldn't look good. While I was thinking, Sophie took the time to grab a book and smack me round the head.

 

 

I screamed out in pain. "Bitch"

 

She grabbed her clothes and ran for the door. She got out. I let her. I sat on the bed for a while before walking out. She had fled, she was no longer in the house. I slowly walked down the stairs and out of the door- and down the street.

 

 

 

"Al" I said as the door opened. Al stared at me.

 

"Dude, I'm sorry, if my Dad find's out you're here, he will freak" Al said, giving me a funny look and trying to close the door.

 

"Al" I said. "What the hell, just let me in and see Chris"

 

At that moment I heard laughing as Chris and Jane came down the stairs and stood next to Al at the front door. Ignoring me, Jane kissed Chris on the cheek.

 

"I'll see you tomorrow Chris" she said as she walked out of the door, straight past me with not a word being said.

 

"I was just telling Jonny that it wasn't a good idea if he came in" Al said, giving Chris a funny look.

 

Chris stared straight at me and declared; "That is probably wise"

 

As the door began to close, I knew it had to be said. "I've finished Sophie" I declared. I saw Chris' expression change as the door closed, leaving me on the doorstep.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Chris' PoV

 

"We need to talk, don't you think?" Al said, raising his eyebrows.

 

"What about?" I asked, still reeling from Jonny's revelation.

 

"About you" Al said, sighing. "And Jonny"

 

I stared at Al before sitting down on the stairs. "You know, then?"

 

"Yes- I do"

 

 

 

The Best Years Of Your Life

Chapter Eleven: Heart To Heart

 

 

 

 

Chris' PoV

 

"Look...I can explain" I said, getting embarrassed, getting scared. "I'm so, so sorry"

 

"Chris, are you scared?" Al asked, sitting beside me.

 

"No, no" I said, lying.

 

"You don't have to be scared of me Chris, I'm your brother" Al said, smiling and putting his arm around me. "But why?"

 

"Why?" I asked, standing up, getting angry. "Why?"

 

"Dude, I'm not getting angry at you!" Al said. I knew he wasn't, I just wish he was. Maybe I deserved it.

 

"It's because, I love him Al" I said, trying to fight back tears. "I love him"

 

I hugged my brother and we had a connection, the connection you can only have with your family. I favoured it for several moments as several tears trickled down my face.

 

"Chris...Chris" Al said, trying to fight back tears himself.

 

"Look at me" I said, sniffing. "I'm a wreck, you're acting like my older brother!"

 

Al grinned.

 

"In many ways you are, I look up to you man" I said, being honest.

 

"Are you going to tell mum and dad?" Al asked.

 

"When the time is right, I guess I will have to" I said, sighing.

 

"I'll support you all the way man!" Al replied. "Because, you're my brother and I love you"

 

"I just want to be honest now" I said, standing up straight. "I've known for a long time that I am, y'know, that way"

 

Al nodded, I smiled.

 

"Yeah, and It's always been Jonny, even though he is a massive cock! He's my cock!" I said.

 

"In more ways than one, eh?" Al said, chuckling. I wanted to say something back but this was the way I wanted it, to be able to laugh at the way I am, for people to accept who I am and have a bit of fun in the process.

 

"So...I'm guessing that he doesn't feel the same way" Al said, walking into the kitchen to get a drink but still talking to me.

 

"He does...I know he does" I said, smiling. "Anyway" I said as he passed me a can of cola. "How do you know?"

 

"Know what?" Al asked.

 

"About me and Jonny" I said, feeling much happier.

 

"Well, lets just say that if you are trying to keep it a secret- don't fall asleep in each others arms!" Al grinned.

 

"Do you think Mum and Dad know?" I asked, getting worried and feeling stupid.

 

"Mum and Dad? Nah! No way! They don't go near their room if they can try, I was just in there to get a pen!" Al said, sipping his cola.

 

"Ahh! So that's where my pen went!" I said, playing with the can in my hand before asking; "What do you think of, y'know, homosexuality?"

 

"Live and let live is what I say" Al said, smiling and winking at me.

 

"I wish more people were like you" I said, admiring my brother.

 

"So" Al said, putting his drink down. "Tell me, are you full on gay or do you like a bit of both, I mean, you and that Jane were pretty close!"

 

"I don't think I like Jane that much after Jonny, so, no, I think I'm full on gay" I said, getting it off my chest.

 

"And proud?" Al asked.

 

"Well...that, I'm not sure about" I said, sighing.

 

"Look...you can't lead Jane along just to get back at Jonny" Al said, acting as the voice of reason.

 

"Yeah...I know, I've got to do something about this" I said.

 

"What are you going to do?" Al asked.

 

"I'm going to start off by seeing Jonny" I said, patting Al on the back. "Thanks a lot mate, It won't take long" I said as I walked out of the front door.

 

 

 

-

The Best Years Of Your Life

Chapter Twelve: A Strange Turn Of Events

 

 

 

 

Chris' PoV

 

I knocked on Jonny's door and took a deep breath. It was about half a minute until Jonny's mum answered the door with tears in her eyes.

 

"Chris..." she said, grabbing a tissue from her pocket and trying to wipe away tears.

 

"Do you want me to go?" I said, feeling bad.

 

"Jonny's not in" she said, sniffling and smiling. I was about to turn and walk away. But I didn't.

 

"Do you need someone to talk to?" I asked, walking in. "Look, you go sit down and I will go and put the kettle on"

 

She was always nice was Jonny's mum, Anne. When me and Jonny were younger she always used to buy me stuff and treat me when I was staying with her and Jonny. I walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on before sighing and leaning back on the kitchen counter. As I waited for the kettle to boil, a picture drew my attention. It was a picture of Jonny and his Mum and Dad. He looked beautiful, it must have been taken about a year ago. The kettle went off and I was cut off from my daydream of Jonny and quickly made the drinks and brought them into the living room for Anne.

 

"Here you go" I said, passing the cup of coffee to Anne as I sat down beside her with my cup of tea.

 

"You are sweet, Chris" she said, taking a sip. I took a sip before leaning back.

 

"So...what is wrong?" I asked, my eyebrows raised and wearing a comforting smile.

 

"You're not going to like me" she said, starting to cry again. I put my arm around her.

 

"It's okay" I said, smiling.

 

"I've" she said, taking a deep breath. "I have been cheating on his dad! I've been having an affair"

 

I didn't know what to say. I was shocked. She didn't seem to be the sort of woman to do that but, thinking, I realised that I was a part of an affair. Jonny was cheating on Sophie with me.

 

"Oh, I see" I said, feeling uncomfortable.

 

"You hate me!" She exclaimed. "I wouldn't blame you"

 

"You are a wonderful person, Anne" I said, being honest. "I don't hate you"

 

She smiled.

 

"Does Jonny's dad know?" I asked.

 

"No" Anne said, almost laughing. "No, he doesn't. He can't know and neither can Jonny"

 

"Is it still going on?" I asked, trying not to be too nosy.

 

"The affair? No, it's, well, it's still going on" Anne said, seeming slightly embarrassed. "Anyway, don't you think you should be going home, your mum will be getting worried!"

 

"Yeah, I think I might have to" I said. "Look, Anne, if you need help, just ask"

 

"Thank you" she said. As I got up to walk out, she stopped me. "You know Chris, you are going to make a girl very happy some day"

 

I smirked before walking out and shaking my head.

 

 

 

100 Pages

 

 

 

Every morning, when the sun was still gone and his parents were still asleep, Chris sat down at his desk and wrote. He wrote letters, each only a page long. A new day, a new letter to write.

 

Some of the letters were happy. Some of the letters were sad. Some were love letters, though Chris never felt sincere writing those ones.

 

Chris wrote to himself, he wrote to his parents, he wrote to his brothers and sisters, and he wrote to his friends. He wrote to people he had yet to meet, and to people who he could never meet. He wrote to the living and he wrote to the deceased.

 

He hadn't honestly expected to make it past a month. Thirty letters alone seemed like a lot, and Chris never had the best skills for keeping a schedule. But something changed for him with this task he pressed upon himself. There seemed to be some reason that he always remembered to write.

 

Through the course of time, he realized that he was writing to find out why he wrote. His letters, while never intended to receive any responses, became filled with all sorts of rhetorical questions.

 

To his parents he asked if they felt their lives had been intended for them. To his brothers and sisters he asked if they knew what it was like to not know. To his friends he asked why they had been brought together as they were. To his grandparents he asked if they had any regrets. To the living he asked why they lived, and to the deceased he asked if it had all been worth it.

 

His determination was so strong that before he knew it, not one month had passed, but three. And then another week passed.

 

Chris numbered every one of the letters. He was actually frightened when he saw the number 100 at the top of the page. His fear may have stemmed from the feeling that this was it. This was the letter that he needed to write, because it would give him an answer. One final answer.

 

The usual quiet that filled the house as he wrote was now eerie and bone-chilling. Chris shivered and his hands trembled. He thought he might not even be able to write this letter, because he was shaking so hard. But as the pen touched the paper, the lines of ink came out as steady as ever.

 

This day he wrote to someone he didn't know, a boy called Jonny. It felt as if some sort of otherworldly presence was trying to speak through Chris, because he had never met this boy, but he knew everything about him. He could feel the pain this boy had been through, all the suffering he had experienced and the tears he had cried. Chris's heart went out to this boy.

 

He told Jonny that everything was going to be OK. That no matter what awful tragedies he had endured, there would always be someone there to help him get by. Chris wrote that he would be there for this boy, and as he wrote he seemed to have forgotten that they didn't even know each other. But Jonny was as real to him as anything else in his life.

 

Chris wrote that Jonny could always trust in him, and he would always be a shoulder to cry on, if Jonny ever needed it. Then it was no longer Jonny's pain that he felt, but his own pain. He quickly reread what he had written, surprised to find that unlike the other letters, this one lacked any questions. Maybe it wasn't so surprising after all, but he realized that it did need a question, the one question that was burning in Chris's heart.

 

Some of the blue lines on the page ran down as a few tears splashed onto the paper, and Chris penned the last line of the letter: But, Jonny... why don't you love me?

 

Chris threw his pen across the room and buried his head in his hands. He wasn't very happy at all with his discoveries, though even from the beginning he was skeptical of the idea that he would be pleased with his answer. After a few minutes he looked back at the paper, snatched it from the desk and crumpled it with a fiery anger coursing through his veins.

 

Then Chris opened the drawer of his desk and took out every single one of the other ninety-nine letters. He left his room exactly as it was as he walked out into the living room and headed straight for the fireplace.

 

Once he had the fire going strong enough, Chris began to throw the papers in one by one, classified by who he had written them to. He threw his parents' letters in and knew what life was intended for him. He threw his brothers' and sisters' letters in and knew that he would never fully know. He threw his friends' letters in and knew that he and Jonny would meet so that he could save Jonny. He threw in his grandparents' letters and knew that he would always have regrets.

 

He knew he would live for Jonny, but as he burned the rest of the letters his feelings changed, and he suddenly knew that it would all be worth it.

 

When he reached the letter marked 100, he stopped. He had burned the rest in anger, because he didn't want this to be his future, a dreary and loveless existence that he would live in vain. He put the fire out and carried the letter to Jonny with him as he returned to his room.

 

His last question was mistakenly asked.

 

He folded the paper and kept it in his shirt pocket for the rest of the day. Then the next day he took it out and put it in the new shirt he wore. For three years he did this, and every day the paper rested against his heart.

 

At the age of nineteen, Chris was entering his second year of college. He was not late for his first class, but by the time he walked into the room, almost all of the seats had been taken. He quickly rushed to the first seat he could find, and as he turned to his right he saw that he was sitting next to an unusually depressed-looking boy. And something clicked.

 

"Excuse me," he said to the boy, as he reached for his pocket. He unfolded the paper before he handed it over. "I think this is for you."

 

The boy, rather startled, took the paper and began to read it. It was obvious that he had not read much of it before he set it down and reached for something in his backpack. Chris sat by patiently, waiting for whatever this boy was about to do.

 

Without a word, Chris was handed another paper by the boy. The first thing he noticed was that at the top of the page had been written the number 100. He didn't even need to read the letter to know what it said, and he looked up and smiled at the boy, who grinned right back.

 

Then Chris looked down at the bottom of the letter, just because, and he read the very last line: You probably think I don't love you, but I'm just too afraid to show it.

 

And Chris was very pleased with his answer.

 

 

What's Real

Chapter 5

 

 

Christopher sat in the window seat with his face pressed up against the window making faces as he watched his brothers playing outside in the snow. “You know what sucks Jonny? Having the chicken pox on the first snow day of the year. Mommy told me I had to sit here away from everybody else and not scratch. I don’t even feel sick, well no, that’s not the truth, but I still think I should be able to play!” Christopher cupped his hands in frustration and hit the cushion next to him.

 

“Ouch! Watch it mate!”

 

‘Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry Jonny! I didn’t realize you had moved from my bed to over here! I didn’t mean to hit you! Honestly.”

 

“Naw I know you didn’t mean it, I’m just really good at being unnoticed.”

 

“You are so understanding Jonny! I’m so glad we are best friends!”

 

“Hey you know what! My sister and I had chicken poxes at the same time and what we did to pass the time was to use our poxes and connect the dots!”

 

Oh that’s a great idea! I love playing connect the dots and your absolutely right about using my chicken pox’s! I’ll go get my markers!”

 

Christopher skipped across the room and threw open the door and ran down the stairs to the kitchen.

 

“Excuse me mister! What do you think you are doing down here? You are sick and should be upstairs and in bed!” Chris’ mum said as she placed her hands on her hips.

 

Christopher glanced down at his feet and mumbled a short reply. “just bored and wanted some markers.”

 

“You want markers for what purpose? You should be laying down and sleeping.”

 

“Well Jonny and I were going to play a game and I uh”

 

“Tell you what let me make you some chicken noodle soup and then we shall see about those markers. Mkay?”

 

“Okay let me go get Jonny for some soup, he is going to be hungry too.”

 

“Christopher, how many times do your father and I have to tell you, Jonny is not real! He is made up, make believe, imaginary. You need to stop with this nonsense and grow up.”

 

“Mum, that is not true! He’s my friend.. my my only friend.”

 

“Oh Christopher. Here have some soup while I get you some calamine lotion.”

 

Christopher reluctantly sat down and sipped his soup. And soon his mum returned, dotted him up with calamine lotion and gave him and green and blue marker. “You mister, best march up those stairs and rest in bed, because if your father comes home and finds you up and about.. well let’s just say you won’t be singing in the Christmas program.”

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

-+-

 

“Oy where’d you go mate?” Jonny asked as he was flipping through one of the books that sat at the side of Chris’ bed.

 

“Mum made me eat some soup and we got in a tiff over you. Nobody believes me that your real and it’s just unfair!”

 

“Don’t let it bother you. Come here and lets play.”

 

“Right you can have the green marker cause it the same as your eyes and I will have the blue for my eye color.”

 

The two boys sat on Chris’ bed drawing on Christopher’s legs and arms, creating shapes and letters.

 

“So Chris I need you to do something for me.” Jonny said as he drew a heart on Chris’ elbow.

 

“Mkay, what do you need me to do?”

 

“Pass a message on to my sister.”

 

“You have a sister? Oh that’s neat, who is she?”

 

“Ms. Green.”

 

 

 

The Best Years Of Your Life

Chapter Thirteen: Renewed Happiness

 

 

 

 

Jonny's PoV

 

"Hi Mum" I said as I opened the door and ran upstairs, completely ignoring my mother. I jumped on my bed and lay down, starting to think. My thoughts soon made me tired and it wasn't long until I drifted to sleep.

 

The next day was like any other- a school day. I tried to get dressed, get washed and have breakfast like normal. Mum was having a go at me for every little thing but I wasn't bothered. I didn't care what she thought. I dropped the milk and she went psycho, I hit her with the phrase 'there is no use crying over spilt milk' and I swear that she was close to hitting me. After that outburst, I left the house while Dad was shouting at me.

 

The walk took about the same length of time as it always did- around seven minutes. I usually met Chris on the walk to school- but he wasn't there, in fact, there were not many people around until I actually arrived at the school gates. I scanned the area for a familiar face- Sophie. I found her.

 

"Sophie" I shouted to her, she pretended she didn't hear me but I know she did. I ran up to her and grabbed her, there were not many people around, no one seemed to be bothered. She was always at school early, always at school for a gossip with her pathetic friends although she liked to think she was smart and a good girl.

 

"Get off me Jonny" She asked.

 

"Look, Sophie, I'm sorry" I said, smiling.

 

"I couldn't go home last night, scared that you would still be there" She snarled. She was right, I was out of line, I needed to tell her.

 

"You are right. I was out of line. I just thought I should tell you" I said, my thoughts perfectly translated to speech.

 

Her frown quickly turned into a smile and she started laughing.

 

"I get it! You were laughing about being gay! Haha! I can't believe I actually believed you" She said and now everything seemed perfect. "I love you Jonny" she said as she snogged me. "I'll see you later"

 

She ran into the school, grinning and laughing and I found myself doing the same, I turned around and a guy was stood in front of me- Chris.

 

"Chris" I said.

 

"Jonny" He said, looking annoyed.

 

"Chris, I don't know what to say- I'm a coward" I said, looking down.

 

"I don't think you actually broke up with her in the first place!" Chris exclaimed.

 

"I did- honestly, I swear, I told her I was gay and everything" I said, looking up and seeing Chris' face change. He seemed much happier. "Why are you smiling?" I asked, not being able to contain my own happiness. It was his smile- it was just so contagious.

 

"So...you admit it" Chris said. "You're gay?" he asked, talking quieter.

 

"Yes" I said, taking a sigh of relief. "Yes I am" I continued, leading Chris around the back of the school. We sat and talked on the bench for around half an hour, hearing the school bell ring but choosing to ignore it and during this time I realised that what me and Chris had was not just a desire to try new things with each other- we enjoyed each other's company. Some might call it love- I am one of those people.

 

"Look, it's better for both of us if we try not to upset anyone" I said. "Namely Sophie"

 

"I agree" Chris said, holding my hand. "Look, let's go to lessons"

 

 

 

The Best Years Of Your Life

Chapter Fourteen: Getting Back To Normal

 

 

 

 

Chris' PoV

 

"Martin!" Phil shouted at me. He was the only one to call me by my second name, I didn't like it very much but I guess I just accepted it.

 

"Alright, Phil?" I said, Jonny by my side.

 

"Yeah, I'm great cheers, have you seen this?" He asked, holding up a poster, I quickly started reading and so did Jonny. "A Talent competition!"

 

"Yes!" Phil said, grinning with his perfect, white teeth showing.

 

"What about it?" Jonny asked.

 

"What about it? You, Chris, Guy and Will if I can get him to start playing drums are going to get the band going again and enter it!" Phil said.

 

"Well...that's a good idea!" Jonny said.

 

"No!" I said.

 

"No?" Phil and Jonny said in unison.

 

"I don't want to be worrying about a stupid competition!" I said, honestly.

 

"But you guys were good, especially you Chris, you were an awesome singer, you've got a real chance of winning!" Phil said.

 

I looked down, I knew I was good but I didn't want anything spoiling how perfect my life was right now.

"Anyway, why are you bothered, Phil?" I asked, trying to delve away from the fact that I didn't want to do it.

 

"Because, my son, I am going to be your manager!" Phil said, chewing on gum.

 

"Oh yes?" I said, thinking of how bad a manager Phil would be.

 

"Yes I am" Phil said.

 

"And what is the name of our band?" I asked.

 

"I was thinking...Starfish" Phil said, his arms thrown out in front of him.

 

Me and Jonny laughed, and couldn't stop for several seconds.

 

"You are kidding?" I said.

 

"No!" Phil exclaimed.

 

"I'm not going on a stage and referring to myself as a member of 'Starfish'" I said, chuckling.

 

"Why not?" Phil asked.

 

"It's...gay!" I said. I hated the insult. But I had to say it, everyone else did.

 

"Well if it is gay...call yourselves gay!" Phil said, winking. "Now, the contest is in two weeks, you can have your first rehearsal tonight at mine, you better be there! So, are you in Chris?"

 

"Go on!" Jonny said. And I looked into Jonny's eyes and I couldn't say no. He was my guitar hero.

 

"Okay fine!" I said, smiling. "So, who's playing what? Am I piano and vocals, Jonny is lead guitar, Guy is bass and...Will is drums?"

 

"Yes, I'll still have to work on Will but I think he could pull it off" Phil said.

 

"So...your house tonight at like seven?" I asked, trying to make Jonny happy. I think I succeeded.

 

"That's the plan! Cheers guys" Phil said. "I'll see you there" he said, walking off with his trademark swagger.

 

"Cheers Chris" Jonny said.

 

"No problem mate!" I said.

 

"Do you want to come back to mine then for a bit?" Jonny asked. I accepted.

 

 

 

The Best Years Of Your Life

Chapter Fifteen: Easy To Please

 

 

 

 

Jonny's PoV

 

I've been playing the piano since I was six, I was very good. At least I liked to think I was and I actually think this is a brilliant idea. Myself and some of my best friends as well as Chris of course- making music! What could be better?

 

"Will, I'm so glad you could make it!" Phil said, waltzing up to Will who had just walked into Phil's rather cramped bedroom which was currently housing myself, Chris, Guy, Phil and now Willl.

 

"Look, I told you that I can't play the drums!" Will exclaimed but with his usual smile on his face. A little argument ensued for several minutes in which I spent most of my time staring at Chris. Trying to understand the situation I was now in. We accepted each others fondness for each other but in a casual, laid back sort of way, anyway, that's how I saw it.

 

Chris didn't notice me looking at him, he was too busy playing on the keyboard and trying to sing- bless him!

 

Phil clapped his hands which shook me out of my daydream.

"Okay people- let's get started" Phil said.

 

"Uhh, has anyone got any songs?" Guy asked, chuckling and elbowing me, jokingly.

 

The room was silent for a second before Chris made his presence felt.

 

"Uhh, I have got a song" Chris said, modestly. I watched in awe. "It's called 'Easy To Please'"

 

"Sounds crap! Let's listen" Phil said, shuffling to the sound.

 

"Well..." Chris said, taking control. "Uhh, Will, just do a slow drum beat, just one hit of the drum and then the symbol, just do that over and over, can you do that?"

 

"Uhh, I think I can, I'm not a retard!" Will exclaimed, licking his lips before trying it.

 

"Now, Guy" Chris said, walking over to him with a spring in his step. He certainly was enjoying himself. "Just give us some sort of deep, low riff, just think of one on the spot!"

 

Suddenly Guy's guitar gave out a beautiful, rich sound. I liked it. Chris liked it. It felt right.

 

"That's awesome Guy!" Chris said as he turned to me and stared at me. "Just...do something cool Jonny!" he said. "My guitar hero!"

 

I felt happy. Very happy and I did what he said and started to play.

 

"Right, everybody do that over and over, and I'll start to do a bit of singing over the top, and I'd just like you to move in steps when I say, can you do that?" Chris asked, sounding like some sort of teacher.

 

And we all did what he said and admired the song that Chris had wrote, the lyrics were beautiful and inspiring and as we finished the first play through, all we could do was clap.

 

"Well, it needs a bit of work" Chris said, trying to be as modest as possible.

 

"That is awesome Chris!" Phil said. He looked like he was going to cry. "If we play that song- we are going to win"

 

The rehearsal continued for around half an hour, all we did was play the song over and over and Chris changed a few things round. Me and Chris were the last to leave Phil's house and we just walked and talked.

 

"So, you wrote that Chris?" I asked.

 

"Yes I did- I wrote it for you" Chris replied, smiling and holding my hand.

 

"Anyway, my house is down here, like I need to tell you" I said, smiling. I hugged Chris and started to walk off. I was suddenly blinded by a bright light and went down. I heard Chris shout my name and then everything went dark.

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

It had been three years since he had last set foot in this building, three long years filled with endless days, intense training, and pain-staking sacrifices, but he was finally ready. All his hard work was about to pay off.

 

I'm not ready for this he thought as he stared at the metal doors before him, the entrance to what would essentially be his big shot, his one final chance to prove himself. His sweaty palms laid against the fabric of his white button-down shirt. Three years, and what had changed? Could he really have changed enough to make a difference?

 

It was not unusual for him to doubt himself, he had been doing it his entire life. In fact, the only thing he felt confident in was his ability to doubt every little thing he ever did. In a way it was good, in that it made him strive to be the best he could be, but it also meant that he would never be good enough for anything or anyone.

 

“Excuse me, sir, do you intend on standing there all day, or are you actually going to open the doors? Because there are some of us who...” the man's voice trailed off as he turned around to see who was talking to him. For a few seconds they both stood, wordlessly, and stared at each other, then the man regained some of his consciousness. “...need to get to work.”

 

He tried to think of what to say in response, but he couldn't think of anything, so he just stood off to the side to let the man through. The man stepped forward, but stopped beside him and looked him right in the eyes.

 

“What are you doing here?” His tone was much friendlier than it had been, and he sounded concerned, even. “Are you here for...?”

 

“Yeah,” he said, nodding his head a little.

 

“Wow. Well, good luck.” The man placed a hand on his arm and grinned at him. He smiled back, though he faltered because of his nerves. The man seemed to sense this. “You'll get it, don't worry.”

 

“You said the same thing last time,” he replied with a condescending laugh. His hand was still on his shirt, as if the sweat had acted as some sort of glue and the two surfaces were now permanently stuck together.

 

“Well, I mean, I never said when you'd get it,” the man said, and he winked before leaving through the scary metal doors. The doors seemed to have closed, but seconds later they popped open again. “Oh, and Chris,” the man added, “you should come see me when it's over. My office is on the third-”

 

“-third floor,” Chris interjected, and he smiled kindly. “I know.”

 

The man held the door open for another moment, his expression blank, then once again disappeared from sight. Chris remained where he was standing, still trying to gather his confidence. As he stared at the pavement below his feet, he noticed a spider crawling along. A shiver ran down his back; even hearing the word 'spider' freaked him out. It had just always been that way.

 

A few more people entered the building, smiling at him as they went (though he could tell they were judging him on the inside), and Chris finally decided that he wasn't going to make any more progress than he already had, and he too made his way into the place that represented everything his future could, and hopefully would, be.

 

The building was overly air conditioned, and Chris was glad that he had worn a long-sleeved shirt. His thin body didn't allow for a lot of heat to be held, and so any further cooling systems made him shiver as if he was standing waist-deep in snow wearing nothing but a t-shirt and some threadbare pants. As he walked past some of the doors to different offices, he noticed his reflection in the tiny windows. He wished he had gone ahead and gotten a haircut like he was going to, but of course there was nothing he could do about it now. He would just have to deal with it. But then, if that ended up being the deciding factor for these people, he was going to completely flip out at himself for being such an idiot. Why the hell didn't he just get that haircut?

 

Even though it wasn't a good idea, since he was still walking down the hallway, Chris buried his head in his hands. Sighing in frustration, he thought Stop doing this! You haven't even seen these people yet, you don't know what they'll think of you. Maybe they'll like your hair the way it is... Or maybe they'll hate it and think you look stupid.

 

His feet stopped moving without him even noticing. For minutes he stood still, head in hands, and fought a bloody internal battle against his indecisive mind. Had he not spent all that time working towards this? He couldn't give up now, just because maybe someone would disapprove. But if they did disapprove, then what was the point of the past three years of his life?

 

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and it took all he had in him not to jump and scream. Luckily, to help, a woman's voice spoke to him calmly and peacefully.

 

“Excuse me, do you need some help?” she asked him. He slowly looked up at her and shook his head.

 

“Sorry, I'm just... having a breakdown,” he said. He dropped his hands to his side and flashed her a halfhearted smile. “I'm here to audition, so...”

 

The woman's face seemed to brighten a little at the thought of actually being able to assist him in some way. “Oh! Let me bring you to the waiting area then, you can break down there.” She gave a lighthearted laugh, and it somehow managed to make him feel a bit better. It was a really nice laugh she had. Her smile was nice, too.

 

She brought him to a room not too far from where he had stopped. There were quite a lot of other men in there, and as his eyes scanned the room he couldn't find one that he thought he was better than. They all seemed to be thinner, more toned, and just generally more handsome than he was. He almost wanted to cry.

 

He took a seat somewhere in the middle of the room and stared at the man beside him. This man's face was completely smooth, blemish-free, and very tan. Chris was pasty, he had a mole on his cheek and one on his upper lip, and he thought he could already feel his facial hair growing back. There was no way he would ever make it.

 

 

The Best Years Of Your Life

Chapter Sixteen: Twisted Logic

 

 

 

 

Chris' PoV

 

"Please, please" I repeated, hands clasped together in prayer as I paced the hospital room floor, waiting for some sort of news from a doctor. Jonny was in surgery. At least I think he is. I haven't been told much. They've informed his parents but for the moment I am the only one with him.

 

I walked over to the coffee machine and searched my pocket for some change- I had none so I made my way to the water fountain and took a drink. I drank loads, much more than I normally would. Maybe I was nervous. I was. Suddenly the hospital room doors swung open, I hoped it was a doctor, instead it was just Jonny's dad.

 

"Chris" he said, running towards me. "How is he? What happened?"

 

He sat down next to me.

 

"There was a car, the next thing I know- he is on the floor with blood gushing from him" I said, trying to be brave.

 

"Did the car stop?" He asked.

 

"No, no, it just carried on!" I said, sighing.

 

"Did you get the registration plate?" Jonny's dad asked.

 

"No, no, I'm sorry Mr Buckland, I was too busy caring to Jonny" I said, feeling guilty

 

"Don't blame yourself Chris, it wasn't your fault and don't call me Mr Buckland, call me Paul" he said, smiling.

 

"Okay...Paul" I said, chuckling. "Oh, I shouldn't laugh, it's just I'm not used to calling you Paul"

 

"You are almost like family to me, you call me by my first name!" Paul said, pointing his finger at me in a slightly humorous gesture.

 

"Where is...Anne?" I asked.

 

"I don't know, her phone was switched off and I haven't been home" Paul said. "Look..." he said, putting his arm on my shoulder. "Thanks for everything you have done for Jonny in the past, and for you being by his side now, well, it's amazing. You are a great friend to Jonny"

 

I simply smiled. I didn't want to say much. I didn't want him to suspect anything, but, why would he? I mean, we are just like any other best friends- always together. There was an awkward silence for several moments before a Doctor came through the doors. Both me and Paul jumped up from our seats at the same time.

 

"How is he?" I asked, getting in there first.

 

"He's...well but he is in a lot of pain" the doctor said.

 

"What do you mean?" Paul asked.

 

"He has received a lot of damage to his legs" the doctor said, sighing.

 

"So...he's got to use a wheelchair for a few weeks or what?" Paul asked.

 

"He'll be lucky if he can ever walk again" the doctor said. "I'm so sorry"

 

My vision blurred. Those words echoed in my head and the accident appeared in my head, I stumbled out of the room, breathing heavily. Bursting through the doors, I tried to keep myself from falling to the floor, trying to get hold of the walls, but I couldn't any longer and I started sliding down the wall and collapsing onto the floor, tears flooding out. I was in hell.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

“What's your name?” the man asked in a sort of bark, his head faced down and eyes pointed at the clipboard in front of him.

 

“C-Chris. Uh, Chris Martin.” At the sound of Chris's nervousness the man looked up and narrowed his eyes. Then he went back to his clipboard and made a mark.

 

“How old are you, Chris?”

 

“Twenty,” Chris replied, trying to make his voice sound stronger. The man marked something else, then turned to the woman at his side. He whispered a few things to her, and she nodded, then stood up and walked over to Chris.

 

“Take off your shirt,” she commanded, her tone dull and lifeless. Chris felt a little uncomfortable at the request, but he knew it was just what he had to do. And he had promised himself long ago that he would do whatever it took to achieve his dreams. If that meant walking around shirtless- or for that matter, completely without clothes- then he would just have to suck it up and do it with as much confidence as he could.

 

The woman took the heap of fabric from him once he had removed it, and she stood off to the side of the room. The man looked up at him again, and Chris could feel the man's eyes roaming over his body, judging him. But that's what he was there for- to be judged. Still, he couldn't help feeling a little inferior.

 

Chris realized that he had begun to slouch a bit in an attempt to hide in himself, and so he quickly straightened his back and puffed out his chest. Then he realized that he had probably exaggerated the move far too much, and was now coming off as some sort of arrogant juvenile. He really just wanted to put his shirt back on and go home.

 

“Turn to your right, kid,” the man ordered, and Chris did as he said. Though he could no longer see the man's harsh expressions, his mind gladly showed him depictions of what they looked like. When he turned to his left he saw the woman holding his shirt. It looked like she was stroking it as it lay in her arms, and for a brief moment Chris enjoyed the ability to judge someone else like everyone did to him.

 

Chris was pulled forward again by the man, who was now standing right in front of Chris with his hands on either of Chris's arms. The man closely examined Chris's bare abdomen and chest, then pushed Chris's chin and made him tilt his head in various directions. Chris let the man do whatever he pleased.

 

“What do you think, Maureen?” the man asked, facing the woman. Chris still had his chin in the air. “He's at least tall enough. Six two?”

 

“Yeah, tall enough,” Maureen replied with disinterest. “Can we get this shirt back on the kid? It's white, but he'd be far less blinding with it on.”

 

“You are pretty pale,” the man said to Chris in a low voice. Chris felt like his heart dropped into his stomach and his eyes threatened to water. He knew he wasn't going to be good enough. Why did he even put himself through all of this?

 

But he remained silent, because if there was at least one thing he could control, it was what they thought of him based on his words. If he didn't say anything, then there was no way for him to say anything stupid, and therefore no way for them to dislike him because of that.

 

A few minutes later the man said, “All right, Chris, we're done with you,” and Chris was given back his shirt, but not given much time to put it back on. Only half the buttons were done by the time he was back in the waiting room. To avoid any attention, especially negative attention, Chris held the open part of his shirt closed with his hand and quickly made his way out of the room and towards the nearest elevators. There was no one on the elevator when the doors opened, and so in the solitude of the moving box he fixed his shirt properly.

 

Not long after, the elevator stopped again and Chris stepped out onto the third floor. It was almost exactly as he had remembered it, though it looked like it had been touched up in a few spots. If it really was the same, then he knew right where the office he was looking for would be.

 

He had always referred to it as an office, at least in his own mind. In actuality it was just a small cubicle with barely enough room for one person, let alone two fully grown men. But calling it an office made him feel like at least one of them had done something with their lives.

 

The man who had greeted Chris outside the building earlier that morning was at his computer, typing away with his eyes fixed firmly on the screen. Chris stood next to him for a few minutes, smiling to himself. He could hardly believe it had already been three years. Everything still felt the same, though.

 

“Jonny, you're at work, stop looking at porn,” Chris said, very loudly. Jonny stopped typing and slowly spun around. Chris stared at him, laughing, and his laughter only intensified as Jonny tried to shove his finger into Chris's stomach. He wasn't very successful, though, because Chris had a lot more muscle now than he had three years ago.

 

“You've been working out, then,” Jonny said pensively. “I thought you looked a hell of a lot less lanky than before.”

 

“I do seventy-five crunches a day,” Chris said impressively, and he leaned against the wall of the cubicle and folded his arms across his chest. His sleeves were rolled up now; it was much hotter in the building than it had been earlier.

 

“I think that's more than I've done in my entire life,” Jonny quietly said, and as Chris laughed he quickly turned back to his computer. He moved the mouse so that the start bar popped up at the bottom of the screen. “It's eleven-thirty... close enough. Wanna go get some lunch?”

 

“Yeah,” Chris said, and he smiled yet again.

 

 

Wedding Bells

 

 

 

Chris leaned back against the plain white wall in the hallway just outside of the recording room. He raked a hand across the fresh stubble that speckled his jaw as his knees slowly bent and he began to slide down to the floor. It was only nine a.m. and his energy had already been spent for the day. He could still hear Jonny's footsteps as he took his place in the other room.

 

“Where's Chris?” he heard Will ask.

 

“Uh, bathroom,” Jonny answered. “I suspect he won't take long.”

 

Chris supposed that it was meant to be a message to him more than a reply to Will. He needed to get over it. This was just the way life had to be. But Chris knew that, and he knew about every ounce of pain that Jonny had ever felt before, knew it like he had felt it himself. In a way, he had.

 

A mere five or ten minutes before, Chris was in the recording room with Will and Guy, messing around and waiting for Jonny to finally show up so they could begin working. They were on a short break from touring, and they had decided to spend this time thinking about what they would do for the next album, and showing each other what they had already come up with.

 

“Jonny better hurry the fuck up, I'm not gonna sit here all day and wait for him to finally come around,” Guy said. He had gone to bed quite late the night before, and was trying to operate on about three hours of sleep. Guy usually needed at least seven hours in order to not be a complete asshole.

 

“Chill out, man, he'll be here soon,” Chris said, still laughing from whatever silly joke he had made minutes earlier. His bright smile did nothing to assure Guy.

 

“How would you know? When you finally rolled out of bed this morning, did he tell you he'd be an hour late?” Guy's implications were nearly lost on Chris, though deep down he realized what Guy was saying, and he felt like a rock had sunk to the bottom of his stomach.

 

“Guy,” Will interrupted, “give him a break. Jonny's probably with his kid or something.”

 

“Hey, we all have kids, but everyone else is here,” Guy retorted.

 

“Yeah, well, your kids aren't sick right now, are they?” All heads in the room shot to the door, where Jonny was standing, bags under his eyes and looking far too exhausted. He sighed, and decided that he was finished acknowledging Guy's bad mood. “Chris, I need to talk to you real quick,” he said, nodding in the direction of the hallway. Chris felt his heartbeat sped up, and he followed Jonny out of the room.

 

As they stopped walking, Chris still smiling as an attempt to pretend that nothing was wrong, Jonny cleared his throat. Since he didn't say anything afterward, Chris thought it pertinent to ask, “What's up?”

 

Jonny looked up at him; the combination of Chris's smile and his innocently clasped hands made Jonny wish really hard that his life could have been entirely different. He couldn't remember how many times in five and a half years he had wished that.

 

“I'm getting married, Chris,” he croaked.

 

“What else is new?” Chris quietly laughed, though it was obviously from his slight delay that he was just trying to deflect. Jonny tried to keep himself together, a deep frown spread across his tired face.

 

“We set a date. In November,” Jonny monotonously said. Chris chewed the corner of his lips for a while, thinking.

 

“Nine months, huh?” he replied with a quick raise of his eyebrows. Jonny was far from amused.

 

“Really? You know, it's not like you have much room to talk, anyway.” At that precise moment, any tiny particle of happiness that Chris had been so desperately clinging to completely evaporated. His mouth turned down and matched Jonny's grimace, tears threatening to fill his eyes. “And it's not like that. We already have a kid together.”

 

“I'm sorry, Jonny, I didn't mean-” Chris stopped himself, sighed. “You know me,” he quietly said. “You know me better than anyone else does. Sometimes- OK, most of the time, I say shit without thinking about it. So, you're getting married. I'm happy for you.”

 

“I'm gonna ask Will to be my best man,” Jonny told him. Chris found himself completely surprised by Jonny's seeming lack of emotion, but what he couldn't see was just how hard Jonny was working to not break down. If only things could have been different.

 

“I understand.” Chris forced himself to smile, though it came out utterly fake. “Wouldn't want me making a speech or anything anyway. I'd probably burst into tears.” Almost as if to prove it, Chris's lips quivered and he lost his grin, his eyes shining.

 

Jonny rolled his eyes and his pain had manifested itself into a tiny bit of anger. “Chris, don't be like that. I know this isn't easy for you, but I had to deal with all of this shit before, and so I don't appreciate you acting like you've never hurt me either.”

 

“I'm sorry,” Chris sincerely replied, a bit of shakiness in his voice, “it's just that I- I guess I just thought that things would work out for us. Now it doesn't seem like it's ever going to happen.”

 

“I thought that, too,” Jonny said, finally letting his sadness get to him, though only a tiny bit. Despite what his brain was practically shouting at him, he lifted his hand and gently stroked Chris's cheek. “But, hey, you never know what could happen in the future. Right?”

 

Chris took his own hand and pulled Jonny's from his face, then covered it with his other hand. He closed his eyes and whispered, “Right,” and then a single tear dropped onto their joined hands. They stood still for another minute, then Chris let go and opened his eyes again.

 

“I'm going back in there,” Jonny said, “but... I'll try to buy you a minute or two. Guy sounded pretty pissed already.”

 

In spite of everything, Chris smiled. It was a tiny smile, but Jonny hoped that it meant Chris was going to be able to cope. “He is pretty bitchy today,” he said.

 

Jonny took one last long look at Chris, sighed deeply, and then walked away. For the next few minutes Chris sat on the floor with his back against the wall and his head in his hands. He hated feeling this way, and he was angry with himself for not being able to control those feelings.

 

When finally he figured that he could no longer hide, and would have to return to the other room, he lifted his head, and the shiny silver band on his finger caught his eye. He pulled it off and held it tightly in his palm. That ring was supposed to represent his devotion and passion. It was supposed to represent his honor and respect. But most importantly, the ring was supposed to represent his love and happiness; in nearly six very long and sometimes painful years, Chris had never truly and entirely felt either, and certainly not both.

 

While he would never know what his future would hold, the one thing Chris could count on was that the consequential sleepless night he was to endure would certainly result in an array of new music. That was always a bonus.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

inspired, of course, by this:

 

[ame=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oJB3t8O3wiY]YouTube- Coldplay - Chris Marting singing Wedding Bells (unreleased/unfinished new song)[/ame]

 

:cry:

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

Jonny sat with his legs hanging over the rock wall of the garden outside the building he worked at, a small tray resting in his lap. Chris was next to him, cross-legged and facing Jonny, and in front of him was an overloaded plate of salad. He had already eaten half of it, but the lettuce was still threatening to fall off the sides of the plate.

 

“So, how'd your thing go?” Jonny asked, his mouth partially full with the sandwich he had just stuffed into it. He swallowed, then almost immediately took another bite.

 

“It was... all right,” Chris said, stabbing his fork into an innocent piece of iceberg lettuce. He held the fork up and let it dangle limply from his fingers for a while. “Apparently I'm tall enough. But they also told me I was really pale.”

 

“Well, you are, Vampire.” Chris smiled. He had forgotten about that little nickname that Jonny had given him in high school. He was actually a bit surprised that Jonny had remembered.

 

“At least I've been trying to tan.” After deciding that he'd had enough of the sight of it, Chris finally ate the salad stuck to his fork. He frowned at Jonny, both dissatisfied by his food and the complexion of his skin.

 

“Maybe if you didn't wear all those long-sleeved shirts all the time, you could actually get some sun,” Jonny said, flicking the cuff of Chris's shirt.

 

“I get cold!!” Chris defensively replied, pulling his arms back and letting his fork fall and disappear into the massive lettuce monster below. “It's not my fault.”

 

“Cold? When it's eighty degrees out?” Jonny turn to Chris and raised an eyebrow skeptically. Chris continued to frown, but Jonny could tell by his sad expression that now Chris was going into one of his overly self-critical modes. “Hey, man, whatever. People are different. Being pale's not a bad thing.”

 

Jonny smiled, and Chris almost instantly felt a little better. “OK,” he mumbled, and with the way he went back to his previous position, he appeared to have let his troubles go. But he could never really let them go.

 

“When will you know if they picked you?” Jonny asked nonchalantly, returning to his tasty sandwich. Chris looked up at him and waited a bit to answer.

 

“I don't know,” he said. As he watched Jonny eating, he felt this thing return to him that he had only vaguely been aware of before. But now it came on stronger, and he knew that even after three years he still felt the same. “I guess whenever they decide to call me... if they call me. I suspect they won't bother if they don't want me.”

 

“Chin up, Chris, it'll happen.” Jonny gripped his hand reassuringly around one of Chris's ankles, and Chris suddenly lost his appetite. He decided that he'd had enough to eat, anyway.

 

Jonny took his hand back, and neither said another word for quite some time. While Chris was in the middle of staring at Jonny, deeply submerged in a vast ocean of his own thoughts, the front pocket of his jeans started to ring.

 

“Hello?” he said into his cellphone. A man's voice answered, muffled as the phone was shoved up against Chris's ear. Jonny looked up and saw as Chris's face blanked, his eyes a tad wide and his mouth slightly open. After a few moments he blinked, and said, “Yeah, two minutes. Great!”

 

Chris slammed his phone shut and stuffed it back into his pocket as he jumped up. Jonny watched him the entire time, and as he spun he noticed Jonny's expectant expression.

 

“Could you take care of that for me?” Chris asked him, pointing to the neglected salad. “I have to go back in.. they just called me!”

 

Chris's good mood and excitement was obvious from about a mile away. Jonny smiled, nodded, and said, “See? It worked out fine.” Chris wanted to respond somehow, but he couldn't think of anything appropriate at first, and he realized that he needed to get inside as soon as possible.

 

Chris bolted up the stairs to the entrance, but he paused once he reached the top. He stopped, turned around, and flashed one more quick enthusiastic smile at Jonny, then ran through the doors.

 

Could this really be it? After three years of hard training, which had only been brought on by the huge disappointment he'd faced three years earlier, and after what was almost an entire lifetime of wanting to be a model, was he finally there? The cold air hit him from the vents in the ceiling, but the excitement bubbling inside of him was plenty enough to keep him warm. It seemed like the hallway was never-ending, and he worried that by the time he would reach the room he would be too late.

 

But he wasn't too late, and as he walked in he saw that there were only a handful of men left. His only competition. He was definitely relieved to see as he sat down that the man whose perfect visage he had envied before was gone. It just reinforced his belief that he should never listen to himself, even though he could never actually practice that belief.

 

He and the other men waited in the room for what seemed like at least an hour before anyone came in to tell them what was going on. The door to the audition room opened and the woman Chris remembered as Maureen stepped out.

 

“All right,” she immediately began, before she was even completely in the room. “You...” she quickly looked up at the men, “...six have been called back because we think that you are the best, or at least most qualified, for the positions. As I assume you know, there are only four spots available. As you may also have noticed, we work very quickly. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you leave now.” Her harsh eyes scanned the room, and all the men simply stared right back at her. “Good,” she said, a few moments later. “If you'll follow me, we can continue.”

 

She turned back and walked through the door she had entered from. The men stood up and trailed behind her, and Chris, hoping that it wasn't some sort of sign, was the last one to leave the waiting room.

 

 

The Luckiest

 

 

The weather was dull, the air was stale and the humidity hung in the air. Waves pounded the beach leaving in their wake millions of tiny white bubbles. I followed the trail of footprints in the sand to see you sitting in our spot. It had been a rough year and we hadn’t made it here in quite sometime. I hurt you and you hurt me. We thought it would be best if we quite before either of us truly got hurt. But to be honest I think that when you left was when I truly hurt.

 

After you left I couldn’t breathe. It was like someone was holding me underwater waiting for me to stop struggling and just give up and die. Colors became dull and uninviting. I lived in a world of grays and blacks. All I could hear was insect noise and the earth felt cold.

 

Our friends would come by and they would try and cheer me up. They would take me out to pubs and to interesting places, but I felt like I was watching everything from space, I was distant, uninterested, and everything had cloudy film over it. All I could think about was you and where you were. Were you lonely? Were you hurt or sacred? Had you moved on and found someone else?

 

So I started to visit our places. I would go every Saturday and sit all day in that spot and hope that you might show up. I watched the little kids run around chasing the ducks at the park. We used to laugh at the sweet innocent faces and pass them the bread that we brought with us so they could feed to ducks. Their faces would light up like Christmas morning and you would have that twinkle in your eye.

 

I sat on the pier by the fish market running my fingers over our initials. You had brought your dad’s pocketknife that night and sat on the edge carving them in while I made sure nobody was watching. I got distracted from you tickling my feet and while I was trying to get you back we accidently knocked the pocketknife into the water. We were terrified of what your dad would do that we ran all over town trying to find the same knife.

 

I visited all of those places saving this one for last. This is where the earth moved and the stars collided. This is where I first found you. Where our eyes met and everything stood still, like a magic trick making the world disappear. Nothing mattered. I didn’t care where I was going, what I was doing. All I could do was breathe and stare. You’d didn’t have to talk or speak cause your eyes could tell me more than words. I was drawn to you; you had this kaleidoscopic aurora surrounding you and I wanted to be wrapped up in it.

 

Today you sit with two bright yellow balloon tied to your wrist. It’s the only bright thing on this beach besides you. I slowly make my way across the sand and sit down next to you. Your staring out at the waves, watching them carefully roll in and roll out. There is a slight breeze blowing in now and it gently caresses your golden curls and I catch a whiff of your intoxicating aroma. A shiver emerges and crawls down my back and I close my eyes and lay down in the sand next to you.

 

I feel your hand rub mine and I look up and you’ve tied one of the balloons to my wrist. Then you lay down next to me in the sand. Above us are hundreds of yellow balloons floating in the air drifting away. But two sat still.

 

“I have let a balloon go everyday, yet they never seemed to pop or disappear. I hoped that one day you would see them and come back to me. I choose yellow because it was the only color I could think of when I thought of you. You were my light, my own personal sun. When you were gone nothing was bright anymore. I don’t want to be in the dark anymore.”

 

I didn’t say anything; I just reached for his hand and held it close. Lying there on the beach that day I realized a few things. I don't get many things right the first time, but now I know all the wrong turns, the stumbles and falls have brought me here and that makes me the luckiest.

 

-For Dianna-

 

 

-

 

Chapter Four

 

 

Chris had been staggered, though ultimately very grateful, to find that he was in fact one of the four chosen for the job. After two weeks of working with the man who he later discovered to be called Mysterium, though, Chris realized that his job was much tougher than he had expected, which was saying a lot. He knew that he would be constantly under massive amounts of pressure, and he had trained himself to deal with that. Or so he had thought.

 

But it seemed as though every day there was something he did wrong, something he was far from perfect with, and every day he went home wishing that he could just be better. Was it really that much to ask for?

 

Eventually it drove him to one day sit in solitude in the bathroom for an extended period of time, crying nonstop. He even felt stupid for crying.

 

Suddenly, the door opened, and a pair of legs walked in. At least, all Chris could see was the man's legs, though he knew who they belonged to right away. Still, he kept his head buried in his hands, his knees pressed up against his chest.

 

“Chris, what's wrong?” Jonny was beside him in an instant, a friendly hand stretched out to grab Chris's shoulder. He was a little too close for Chris's comfort, though he couldn't say he didn't like it. Chris didn't answer at first, or even look up, he just shook his head.

 

“A-Ask me what's right,” he stuttered through sniffles, “it's a m-much shorter list.”

 

Jonny could see that his friend was in need of some major self-esteem boosting, and he thought he knew what to do; it was certainly not the first time Chris had acted like this.

 

“Fine. What's right, then?” he asked in his clever tone. He finally got Chris to look up at him with that one, though Chris's bloodshot eyes were narrowed at him.

 

“Well...” Chris stared off into space, his lips pursed, thinking. Jonny patiently waited, his hand still on Chris's back. “There you go.”

 

Jonny, in spite of the situation, smiled, and Chris furrowed his eyebrows and looked confused. When he caught sight of Chris's expression, he dropped the smile and tried to imitate Chris. He knew it wouldn't take long to work. Then, five seconds later, the corners of Chris's mouth twitched, and he quickly turned his head and covered his mouth with his hand. Jonny smiled again.

 

“Oh, look at that,” he said, smugly, and Chris hit him on the arm with his free hand.

 

“Jerk,” Chris mumbled through his hand, and Jonny smiled wider.

 

“Come here, you dunce,” Jonny said, and he wrapped his other arm around Chris's front and pulled Chris's head to his chest, something that made Chris feel both better and worse at the same time. But he kept his head resting there, because he didn't want to appear suspicious, and also because he really did like it, no matter what his conflicting emotions were telling him.

 

Jonny had done the same thing every time that Chris was like this, ever since they were both fifteen and Jonny had found this scrawny kid quietly moaning about his life on the curb near Jonny's house. It was something about Jonny's bluntness, and his readiness to insult an already self-deprecating boy he had only just met, that made Chris take a liking to him. Of course, he took far more of a liking to Jonny than he had expected.

 

But that first time that Jonny had embraced him was the first time that he ever felt like anything- even the smallest, simplest thing- was going to be all right. And every time after that he got the same feeling, and to him it was worth it to suffer feeling like his heart was about to burst in his chest. After all, maybe that's what being happy was supposed to feel like. Chris didn't really know.

 

He closed his eyes and laid his hand on Jonny's chest, a move that he hadn't even consciously thought about, and he quickly realized it was rather bold, but as Jonny didn't say anything about it, he figured it was all right. He could feel and hear Jonny's heart beating, and it made him think things that he had always tried to avoid thinking for fear of the consequences.

 

He thought about how Jonny's strong arms wrapped around him was like nothing else he'd ever experienced. He thought about how if he had the option, he would say like that forever, because there was no other place in the world that he'd rather be, not even on a stage modeling in front of millions of people. I like it when you hold me, Jonny he thought.

 

But his eyes opened quickly as he found that maybe he had not actually said that as part of his internal monologue, but as part of his external dialogue. There was no way to tell, really, apart from a reaction from Jonny. He felt sick again, but this time there wasn't such a pleasant undertone to it.

 

“You do, huh?” Jonny asked, as if what Chris had just said was completely normal. Chris panicked a little, but he ultimately decided the truth would be best. At least, he hoped it would be.

 

“Yeah,” he quietly began. “Because... well, as ridiculous as it sounds, people are always judging me, especially by my looks. But you don't do that...” Chris lifted his head a little and looked up at Jonny. “You don't judge me at all. So... I just feel... safe.”

 

Chris was surprised at how easily the words came to him, and how he hadn't even faltered once that entire time. He hadn't really confessed much, though he still did feel like he was pouring his heart out. He wondered if Jonny could tell what else he was hiding.

 

Jonny's arms tightened a little, and he seemed to have moved his head down to let his chin rest on Chris's head. As time slowly went on, he became very aware that something was different, and there was a smell in the air that he recognized all too well from his partying days, as brief a time as that may have been.

 

“Chris, did you... throw up or something?” Jonny asked with a tone that seemed to suggest that even he thought it was ridiculous. But Chris didn't respond with the same incredulous tone.

 

“Um...” Chris froze temporarily, though his mind was hard at work. How was he supposed to answer that? He didn't want Jonny to think he was completely insane, even though he was. But as new tears began to form, he realized which way he would have to go with his answer. “They told me that I could do with losing five pounds,” he shakily replied, trying to sound innocent, but knowing in his heart that there was nothing innocent about any of it.

 

“Chris!” Jonny moved, and Chris thought he was going to stand up and storm out, but he simply grabbed Chris's shoulders and pulled him up so they were face to face. “You don't need to lose five pounds, and that's not the way to do it.”

 

Chris stared back at Jonny with frightened eyes, and he croaked, “I'm sorry.”

 

“Don't apologize,” Jonny said, his expression softening only a little, “I'm not the one you'll end up hurting if you keep doing it.” Chris thought about it, and he felt a strange sensation wash over him as he realized that if it would hurt Jonny more than himself, he would be more likely to never do it again.

 

 

The Best Years Of Your Life

Chapter Seventeen: Time To Pretend

 

 

 

 

Jonny’s PoV

 

It’s always me. It was always me who had to mess things up when everything seemed so great. Even when I was a kid, when I was writing on walls and smashing glasses, I started arguments between my mum and dad.

 

I hate hospitals, they always try to sugar coat everything they tell you, well, not the hospitals, the doctors. I won’t be able to walk again- They make it sound like I’ve dropped my ice cream on the floor. I don’t want to see Chris. I don’t want to see anyone. I just want to be alone- alone with my thoughts. I bet Dad has told Sophie and she is rushing here, I wish I felt something for her like she does for me- but I don’t. I can’t- my mind is now fixated on Chris. But he can’t see me like this.

 

It’s over. I can’t kid myself. Maybe I should write a letter. Would that be a good idea? I’m not sure if I can even write, I think I’ve fractured a few bones in my hand. I’m not even going to try.

 

The door flew open- It was Chris. Not looking at him, I proclaimed; “I said no visitors”

 

“Jonny” he muttered, I turned around to look at him. He looked horrified.

 

“I don’t want you to see me like this- please just go away” I asked, trying to be as kind as possible.

 

“I already have, I’m looking at you right now” Chris said, obviously trying to be calm about the whole situation. “I love you Jonny”

 

“Please don’t” I said before, in much pain I picked up my legs and tried to turn around on my bed, my face in the pillow.

 

“I want to kiss you Jonny” Chris said. I wanted to kiss him as well. “I want to love you Jonny”

 

“How can you?” I said, turning around, trying to ignore the pain. “How can you when I’m like this”

 

“At least you’re still alive” Chris said. “Thank god”

 

“Ooh God, God, yeah, he is great, isn’t he?” I said, laughing. “I fucking hate you God”

 

“Johnny, grow up!” Chris exclaimed.

 

“I shouldn’t have to, I’m a teenager” I said.

 

“Yes, a teenager with his whole life ahead of him” Chris said, sympathetically.

 

“Have you been crying?” I asked, noticing Chris’ eyes.

 

“No” He lied. I knew he was lying.

 

“Chris, I play sports- I can’t now” I said, trying to accept the fact.

 

“You’ve still got your music…and me” Chris said, smiling. And then I realised, I wasn’t just getting myself angry, I wasn’t just getting myself upset, I was upsetting the people I love the most.

 

“Chris…I’m not going to lie to you” I said, facing down, not having the guts to stare him in the face.

 

“What?” Chris snarled. Sensing I was going to say something he didn’t want to hear. He was right.

 

“I want to die, Chris. I don’t want to live anymore. Now, please, just get out and leave me alone” I said, taking a big breath in and giving out a long sigh.

 

Without a word being said, Chris walked out much to my surprise. He would be much better without me in his life.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

 

Jonny absentmindedly tapped his fingers on his desk in boredom while thinking about what he would eat for dinner. He had only come back from lunch with Chris a few minutes ago, but he was already preparing for the future. There was nothing else for him to do anyway, apart from actual work.

 

It had become a sort of ritual for them. Every morning, he and Chris would meet in front of the building and chat for about five minutes until they both really had to get to work. They would work for a couple of hours, then at eleven-thirty- or “Close enough!” as Jonny liked to refer to it- they would break for lunch and go out somewhere to get food. Every once in a while Chris was too busy, so Jonny would either have to wait, or go by himself (he never went by himself).

 

That day hadn't been a problem, since Chris was just finished with what he was doing as Jonny walked into the room. Jonny stood by the door, and as Chris spun around and caught sight of Jonny his eyes bugged and he quickly tried to cover his bare torso with the shirt in his hands.

 

“Hey, Jonny,” he said as he swooped over. “I'm done for now, um... I just have to get dressed...” Jonny waited around dumbly, and Chris was staring at him. After a few seconds, Chris cleared his throat and said, awkwardly, “Could you maybe, like, turn around or something?”

 

“Oh, yeah, right.” Having forgotten Chris's weird aversion to being shirtless around other people despite that is was basically his job description, Jonny gave an apologetic look and faced the open doorway. While he was there, he figured he might as well start to make his way through the door.

 

As he stopped in the hallway, Chris walked up beside him. “Where are we going to today?”

 

“I don't know, wherever,” Jonny replied, shrugging his shoulders. “You decide.”

 

And so they found themselves dining at the local pizza parlor, mostly because the service was quick and cheap, and Chris didn't have much time before he had to be back. Neither did Jonny, really, but that didn't matter much to him. He didn't care about his work as much as Chris did.

 

Jonny sat back at his desk a good fifteen minutes earlier than he had planned, and to waste time he played some solitaire on his computer. After the first game (which he lost), he decided that solitaire wasn't his thing, but planning his dinner for that night was. He managed to come up with the delicious meal of leftover spaghetti and microwavable meatballs before he was hit with the sudden urge to use the restroom.

 

The bathrooms on the third and second floors were all out of order, so Jonny had to travel all the way down to the lobby. On his way down the small hallway leading to the men's room, he passed a familiar tall and minty-smelling figure which just walked by him without even acknowledging his existence. He abruptly stopped and turned around, because for some reason he had a very strange feeling.

 

“Chris?”

 

Chris slowly faced Jonny and said, “Hey,” but he couldn't hide his guilty look. He fiddled with his hands for a bit, then he seemed to give up and walked towards Jonny. “I have to get back to work. And you do to, eh?” Chris lightly tapped his hand against Jonny's arm. “If we wanna keep working at the same place...”

 

Jonny said nothing, he merely stared at Chris with a look of utter disappointment. He even shook his head a bit, and Chris frowned back at him, then stared at his feet. Eventually, Jonny walked away in the directions of the restrooms, Chris discreetly watching him with his head still down.

 

He felt like the world was crashing down on his thin shoulders. The only person he had thought he could never let down had just walked away from him without even saying so much as one word, and he found that it hurt a thousand times more than if it had been anyone else. Instead of taking this experience and using it as motivation to change his behavior in a positive way, though, he decided to spend the rest of the day and then some letting himself know just how worthless he thought he was.

 

Great, you can't do anything right he thought. Now even Jonny hates you, because you're so stupid. But it was only a matter of time...

 

That night, in his tiny living room, Chris laid on the floor and stared at the ceiling. He felt he didn't deserve to sit or sleep anywhere comfortable, or for that matter, to sleep at all. He also didn't eat anything, which he thought would just be a good punishment for himself, though he seemed to have forgotten the actual reason Jonny was disappointed with him in the first place.

 

Then he remembered what Maureen had said to him that day, about how he was probably still the heaviest of the models. It had sounded like she was trying to casually throw it into the conversation, but he knew that she was telling him he needed to step it up or he wasn't going to be as successful as the others. That's all he wanted- to be successful. It didn't matter to him what he had to do to become successful, as long as it happened.

 

For most of his life he barely had friends, or so he thought, and he was therefore used to being alone. But now was the first time he could remember that he actually felt lonely. He didn't like it at all.

 

After what seemed like ten hours- and very well could have been, as it was now clearly very late in the night- Chris rolled over onto his side. Deep down he knew what to do to make things better, but he also knew that he couldn't be happy anyway if he just gave up on his goal.