||The OFFICIAL Coldplay FanFic Thread 2||CUZ WE IZ COOL

[*MX*ColdplayObsess3d]

New Chapter!!! Again!!!

 

The Right People

Chapter 3: Will

 

 

 

 

*Guy's POV*

 

I'm not so sure if I should be doing this. I'm only helping to write this thing because I have nothing else better to be doing and because Chris asked me to. The guy's got some great powers of persuasion, I tell you.

 

Oops, Jonny's looking over my shoulder, so I should probably begin.

 

 

We needed a drummer. Bad. With the help of my now being this yet unnamed band's bassist, we still needed a drummer, for there is no band without the drummer.

 

So this is the story of how Will Champion became our drummer.

 

{FLASHBACK}

 

"Hey, Guy come here! I have a very special assignment for you!"

 

I walked over to Chris who was sitting on Jonny's bed and fiddling with his acoustic guitar.

 

"Alright, I already know I'm gonna regret it, but what do you want?"

 

He stood up and grinned. "You are going to go and find us a drummer."

 

I looked at him in shock. "Hell no."

 

"Hell yes, Guy. You are going to find us a drummer and you are going to do it by the end of this week."

 

I shot him a skeptical glance, but I knew he meant it, so I agreed.

 

{END FLASHBACK}

 

It was a Tuesday when I agreed, so I had until Saturday ti find us a drummer.

 

First, I asked if anyone in my Engineering class was a drummer. Because I normally never spoke, they all stared at me funny. None of them played the drums.

 

Then I tried the library. No luck.

 

Instead, I found him while I was playing football.

 

{FLASHBACK}

 

I kicked the black and white ball up against the side of the building, thinking about my assignment. It was Friday, so it was either find a drummer now or in the time before rehearsals.

 

During my thinking, I didn't notice the person standing behind me.

 

"You like football?"

 

The simple question scared the crap out of me, since I didn't expect it.

 

"Yeah, but only kicking the ball around."

 

The guy looked familiar, now that I thought about it; hadn't I seen him at the fresher's party? I could've sworn I've seen him before.

 

Anyway, I'd just thought of something else, besides whether or not I knew him.

 

"Hey," I asked, "do you know of anyone that plays the drums that would be willing to join our band?"

 

"That's what I came here for. I've got a drumset, and I know how to play them. When I heard you guys, I knew that once you got a drummer, you'd make it big time. I've never been a part of something as huge as this will be; so, in short, I'd like to join your band."

 

{END FLASHBACK}

 

Talk about a miracle.

 

[Viva_La_Coldplay]

-

[Chloe_Martin]

Chapter 13

Chloe got changed into her pajamas and began to relax when a knock was at her door she went and answered it, she got the shock of her life it was Chris and he looked upset he just walked straight in and sat on the lounge. Chloe sat next to him and asked what was wrong “I miss you so much nothing is the same anymore and it’s not just me everyone else misses you as well please come back to London I will never ever let anyone hurt you”. “Chris I can’t and you know that” Chloe replied, Chris held her hands and said “run away with me” she looked up at him with those bright blue eyes looking at her what was she going to do she couldn’t say no to him, “ok but I don’t have anywhere to stay” “stay at my place” Chris said “thank you but when I find a place I’ll move in there, ok?” Chloe said “ok that’s fine as long as you’re in London then I’m happy” Chris replied. Chris helped Chloe pack her things that she had and they got the first plane to London, Chloe slept at Chris’ that night and had to talk her mum into believing that moving back to London is the best thing of her life. Chloe told her mum a heart aching story about how she loves the boys and she finally let her move back to London.

[Chloe_Martin]

Chapter 14

They all had a party to welcome Chloe back to London it was so exciting they all had the time of their lives; Chloe went out on the back verandah and looked up at the stars twinkling in the moonlight, Chris then came out and stood next to her looking at the beautiful night sky as they were talking Chris got closer and closer to Chloe. As she was looking at the night sky Chris turned around and put 3 fingers up at Jonny, Jonny nodded his head and went to the music player then the song started it was Hero by Enrique Iglesias. Chris grabbed Chloe’s hand and started to dance it was the same song that they danced at the graduation when they were crowned King & Queen, they looked into each other’s eyes and it was magical it was exactly the same as graduation it felt like they were the only two people in the world. Then Chris whispered in her ear “I want to show you something”, so Chloe followed him and they went around the corner to find a swing with lights all around it, Chloe sat on the swing and Chris stood behind and gave it a light push they had the best time then Chris was on his knees in front of the swing and Chloe fell off they were now lying on the grass watching the stars, Chris sat up looked down at Chloe and though *oh my god I can’t believe I’m staring at the most beautiful woman in the world* Chris couldn’t resist he had waiting long enough he knelt down and kissed Chloe. Chloe was in complete shock after one more minute Chris got back up and he put the biggest grin on his face, they were both in love and it scared Chloe she got up and said “I got to go” she placed a kiss on Chris’ cheek and left. Chris stood there and then walked inside the house Jonny went up to him to see Chris with a very upset look on his face “hey mate, what happened” Jonny asked “I blew it I couldn’t resist I kissed her and then she left” Chris replied. Jonny got Chris a drink and they talked, Chloe was at her new house that she had just bought lonely just thinking about that kiss and how much it meant to her Chloe went because she loves Chris so much if she kissed him anymore than she wouldn’t be able to resist but take it further.

[Chloe_Martin]

Chapter 15

The next day was awkward the boys were all in the studio talking about the night before, Chloe walked in and said “oh great ummm maybe I should go home” Chris jumped up and asked if he could talk to her so Chloe did as what she was told and Chris locked the door. “Chloe I’m sorry if I offended you in any way I couldn’t resist” Chris said “resist? What are you talking about” Chloe followed “I mean…… I mean uhhh well I love you Chloe I love you more than anything in the world” Chris replied, this started to make Chloe go teary and she didn’t know what to say she loved Chris more than what anyone could imagine “Chris I love you too” she said as she started to smile, Chris grabbed the back of her neck and started to kiss her they were both in heaven when they were rudely interrupted by Guy knocking on the door asking if they were alright “were fine Guy” Chris yelled at him through the door. Chloe giggled “Chloe would you go out with me?” Chris asked “OH MY GOD YES!!!” Chloe loudly answered, she threw her arms around Chris and squeezed him tight when she could see that Chris couldn’t breathe she let go and walked out of the room. *7 months later* Chloe and Chris were at a celebrity party hand in hand cuddling each other they were so madly in love it was crazy, Gwyneth Paltrow was there her and Chris had a bit of a fling about a year ago and she still had her eye on him. Chris went up to the bar and Gwyneth came up to him flirting and everything, Chloe got angry so she walked up to them when Gwyneth grabbed Chris and kissed him Chloe broke it up and told her to go get fucked.

[*MX*ColdplayObsess3d]

Yay new (and probably last) chapter; The Right People was only meant to be about how they all met. But don't worry yourselves; I have another fanfic idea on the edge of my mind...

 

The Right People

Chapter 4: Some time later...

 

 

 

 

*from now on there will be no more POVs*

 

 

As time went on, the group became closer and closer friends. Some said that it would take a nuclear bomb to separate them. They were always together, inseparable, that quartet. As their music got more and more popular, they acquired more and more fans, and they knew...

 

They had met the right people.

 

 

[*MX*ColdplayObsess3d]

A songfic is a fanfiction written to the lyrics of a song. I saw nothing like that here, so I'll try my hand at one.

 

The song is "Look After You" by The Fray

 

 

Look After You

 

 

 

If I don't say this now I will surely break

As I'm leaving the one I want to take

Forgive the urgency but hurry up and wait

My heart has started to separate

 

Chris looked at his best friend who was sitting to his right. He had to say it, now otherwise he just might explode...

 

"Jonny," he whispered, "I have something of major importance to tell you."

 

Jonny looked up and saw the somber face of his one love in life... "Yes?"

 

Chris's eyes became vacant as he said the words that Jonny had been waiting his whole life to hear...

Oh, oh,

Be my baby

Ohhhhh

Oh, oh

Be my baby

I'll look after you

 

"I'm in love with you. I have been, have been for so many years..."

 

There now, steady love, so few come and don't go

Will you won't you, be the one I'll always know

When I'm losing my control, the city spins around

You're the only one who knows, you slow it down

 

Jonny tried not to show too much emotion at that, even though he was ready to burst...

 

"Jonny, I know you probably hate me now, but I couldn't contain it any longer..."

 

"I don't hate you, Chris, in fact... I'm in love with you too."

 

Chris's eyes bored into Jonny's, locked together for what felt like eternity...

 

Oh, oh

Be my baby

Ohhhhhh

Oh, oh

Be my baby

I'll look after you

And I'll look after you

 

"You mean it, right?"

 

"Have I ever lied to you?"

 

"No." It came out as a whisper.

 

If ever there was a doubt

My love she leans into me

This most assuredly counts

She says most assuredly

 

"I'll show you I'm not lying," Jonny said.

 

"We'll show each other..."

 

And they both leaned in, lips meeting halfway...

 

Oh, oh

Be my baby

I'll look after you

After You

Oh, oh

Be my baby

Ohhhhh

 

All was as it was meant to be, now...

 

It's always have and never hold

You've begun to feel like home

What's mine is yours to leave or take

What's mine is yours to make your own

 

"Chris..."

 

"Hmm..."

 

"Everywhere I've ever been, I've never felt like I was truly home... until now..."

 

"Well Jonny, I'll tell you what... I think we are home now."

 

Oh, oh

Be my baby

Ohhhhh

Oh, oh

Be my baby

I'll look after you

 

 

 

[*MX*ColdplayObsess3d]

"DEFINITION OF A MARY SUE: Often loosely described as an 'original character',

these evil Mary Sues prowl the realm of fanfiction, plaguing all movies,

books, tv shows, etc with their perfect hair and 'remarkable' eyes. They are

most usually the 'perfected' version of the author, lacking personality,

depth and character. They exist for the sole purpose of falling in love with

the man. Bad plot devices and gaping plotholes usually surround these

creatures,"

All of Us are Done For

Chapter 1: An Introduction

 

 

 

 

It was a normal day in the Bakery. Guitars were being strummed, keyboards played, drums pounded on, and computers were being manned by the usual crew.

 

But this was all about to change...

 

For this is the world of fanfiction, where anything is possible. The Authoress holds the key to the story, and can change it at any point that pleases her. The characters are at her command, and so is the scenery, the plot, and everything else. And since the Authoress was in one of those moods where all she wanted to do was create chaos, she sat down at her computer and began to type...

 

 

[*MX*ColdplayObsess3d]

All of Us are Done For

Chapter 2: The Real Story

 

 

 

 

They were packing up to leave the Bakery. Jonny was putting his guitar away, Guy his bass, Chris was organizing his notes and scribblings, and Will was helping put the microphones away.

 

When all was done and locked up and the crew had left, Coldplay stood outside saying their customary goodbyes. And they were all set to leave when...

 

"SQUEEEEEE!!!! 1! LIKE OMG ITZ CLDPLAY!! 1!! &*^%&u(!!!!

 

Approximately 57 MarySues came sprinting in it's most artistic form down the dark street. Cries of "MARRY ME GUY!!6!!" "ZOMG IT CHIRS MARTIN" "JONNY!! MY TRU LUV!!!! RUN AWAY WIT MEH!!" "!1!1!1!1111111111111!!!!" and other assorted (and very suggestive) grammar-less unintelligible forms of "SPESHUL SPEEK" (the official most "WUNDRFL" language in the world) filled the air.

 

And just like that, the 57 MarySues multiplied into 6!598! and attacked the band in the most delicate and angelic way.

 

But before they got there, the band was already sprinting back inside the Bakery, fleeing from the yet unnamed creatures that they all knew were not of this world.

 

They activated the SUPER alarm system that would turn the Bakery into a fortress. Bars dropped over the windows and in front of the door. Fear, an necessary element in stories like this, crept into the hearts of the four men.

 

Finally, after an antagonizingly long time, Chris screamed.

 

"WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED OUT THERE!?!?! WHAT THE FUCK WERE THOSE BLOODY THINGS??!!"

 

Jonny turned from staring vacantly into space and made them all look at him, giving each of them a hard stare before he spoke.

 

"I know what they are. And they are some of the mos horrible creatures on earth.

 

I used to love this website called Fanfiction.net. It had some wonderful stories based on all kinds of books, movies, you name it...

 

But some of the authors liked to incorporate these characters called "MarySues" into their stories. Most of these stories were for fun reading only, not to be taken seriously. But some of those stories were so real... like they could only have been written from experiences. Real stories.

 

And I have the feeling... those stories are real, and we're living in one."

 

 

 

[Viva_La_Coldplay]

-

[jknc]

sorry.................

[*MX*ColdplayObsess3d]

All of Us are Done For

Chapter 3: I Don't Want to Believe

 

 

 

 

"You're not serious. This is a joke. I'm going to wake up now, this is all a dream, and I will wake up at my piano because I drifted off..."

 

Chris was in hysterics. Pinching himself, twitching, generally fidgeting. Guy and Will had that deer-in-the-headlights look to them, or like they had just been shot. Jonny was as calm as ever.

 

This went on for about two minutes. Then they all heard a Voice, a Voice with a capital V, speak from all around them, and the Voice was infused with Power (with a capital P).

 

"I AM THE ALMIGHTY AUTHORESS. I AM YOUR CREATOR. BOW DOWN BEFORE ME."

 

But the Authoress had forgotten that the characters, no matter whether she created them or not, had to have some semblance of free will, otherwise the story would be no fun to read or write. And it was this small measure of freedom that kept them standing.

 

"Who are you? What do you want with us?" Guy, normally the one to keep his mouth shut, whispered.

 

"I JUST TOLD YOU. I AM THE ALMIGHTY AUTHORESS, AND I CREATED YOU."

 

"Alright then, tell us, O wonderful Creator, what are those things that were attacking us a moment ago?" Will, the bold one, asked.

 

There was silence for a moment then...

 

"YOU HAVE GONE TOO FAR. I NOW LEAVE YOU TO WHATEVER FATE I CHOOSE."

 

And with that, the metal bars over the windows and doors vanished, leaving Coldplay to fend for themselves.

 

"Jonny?" whispered a frightened Chris.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"I don't want to believe. I don't want to believe that this is happening."

 

 

 

[coldplayisawesome]

King for a Day

 

 

 

They laid in the grass beside each other and stared up at the twinkling stars. The moon was already halfway through the sky. The crown rested by their feet, discarded minutes earlier due to discomfort.

 

“It's been a crazy night, hasn't it?”

 

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

 

It was a breezy evening when they agreed to go together. Since it was the penultimate month of spring, the sun set later in the evening, but the air cooled long before the pinks and oranges brushed against the horizon. The two boys sat in the stretch of grass in between their yards, watching as the last of the small children disappeared into the neighboring houses for dinnertime.

 

Jonny shivered lightly as one blond-haired boy carelessly threw his bicycle to the ground and ran up the steps to his house. He and Chris had been seated there, silently, for precisely three hours and forty-seven minutes. Almost four hours. That was the longest he had ever been around someone and not talked (and he wondered how Chris wasn't filled to bursting with speech at the moment), yet he was completely comfortable with that fact. There were often days when he felt like he shared some sort of telepathic bond with Chris.

 

“What's today?” Chris abruptly asked, though he knew very well that it was the sixth of May. His body had a plan which it had kept secret from his brain, from the tiny rational portion of himself. True to the scheme, his brain was out of the loop even now, in what his body had dubbed the 'execution phase.' Chris let himself talk, though the vibrations shaking his vocal chords felt like someone else's.

 

“It's the sixth.”

 

“Do you want to go to prom with me?”

 

Jonny had certainly not expected it. He turned to gawk at Chris, but he ultimately answered, “Yes.” Chris smiled without meeting Jonny's gaze, felt his heart and other internal organs swell inside his torso. His brain was starting to be incorporated in the ordeal, since his body had found a satisfactory reply. It would all go downhill, he knew.

 

“Will they allow it?”

 

– But his body was still in control; although his brain demanded that he speak the words he remained silent, grinning, and only kept his worries to himself for the moment. After all, he had spent his entire life worrying about this. Now was the time for joy.

 

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

 

The first task was to inform their parents. It was bound to happen anyway, as Chris's mother had taken to inquiring every single day if he had found a nice girl to go to prom with yet; on the seventh, he kindly told her, “No, but I have a date.”

 

“Well, who?” she followed up in an overly excited tone. “What's her name, what does she look like? Where does she live?”

 

Chris briefly reflected on all the various and lengthy ways he could respond to his mother's questions. He decided instead that simplicity was best.

 

“Jonny.”

 

His mother reacted by giving him a confused look and then glancing over her shoulder as if Chris had just seen the boy somewhere in the background and was calling out to him. When she turned back to her son she looked no less baffled. “Jonny?”

 

“Jonny,” Chris plainly repeated. He was in no mood to disclose further.

 

With a sharp inhale and a look of sudden understanding, his mother replied, “Oh! Oh. Jonny. Oh. Well, then I guess I know what your date looks like.”

 

“And you know where he lives.”

 

His mother absentmindedly nodded. “Yes, that as well. Hmm. Jonny.”

 

Chris watched his mother stare into space and he scratched the back of his neck. “So, that's a good thing, right?”

 

“What's a good thing, dear?”

 

“You know, Jonny... he is nice. He's not a girl, but he's nice and I really like him.”

 

“Sure.” His mother appeared to return from the other world she had been momentarily trapped in. “You two have known each other your whole lives.”

 

Chris smiled a little. “Yeah. He's my best friend.”

 

“Jonny is a good choice.”

 

Chris's smile grew wider. One down, most likely a hundred more to go.

 

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

 

After the parents (all of whom almost immediately accepted their arrangement and were even thrilled after a short while) came the school. Chris had tried to hold back as much anxiety over the entire situation as he could, but this was simply one obstacle that they could not just ignore.

 

Apparently it wasn't enough for Chris and Jonny to sign up separately for the prom and therefore unofficially be each other's date; boys going to prom together was boys going to prom together whether or not one blue sheet of paper listed their names in the same row. But it wouldn't have been a problem if they could have kept it quiet until the actual event.

 

Somehow a few students had found out that the two boys were going with each other and, as bits of high school gossip sometimes do, this news had made its way to several parents who were not so keen on the idea. Chris's mother became heavily involved in defending their plan – much to Chris's surprise, though really she just wanted her son to be happy – and she attended several meetings with the parents who had complained and the principal of the school.

 

It took a rather long and heartfelt speech from Chris to do the trick; a week before the dance, the final meeting took place. Not only were Chris's mother and the principal in attendance, but of course Chris himself, the teacher who also served as the head of the planning committee for prom, and the parents of a girl whose name was something like Emily. Chris wasn't sure he knew her.

 

“We just don't want our daughter exposed to this sort of thing,” Emily's mother was saying. To her right, her husband sat, nodding firmly.

 

“Oh, please, your daughter is almost eighteen years old,” Chris's mother retorted. “Not only is she almost an adult, she has probably already been exposed to far worse.”

 

“I beg your pardon?”

 

“There is no reason why my son-” Chris's mother began to argue, but her voice was drowned out by Emily's mother shouting back. Nothing either of them said was coherent.

 

After roughly ten seconds, the principal cleared his throat. Surprisingly, he managed to be loud enough to silence the two women.

 

“Are we quite done here?” the teacher asked in a bored tone.

 

The principal looked around at the occupants of the room and sighed. “We have to come to some sort of final decision. Preferably in a peaceful manner and without any more shouting.”

 

The man rubbed his forehead, clearly exhausted. Chris bit his lip. When five seconds had passed without anyone else speaking, Chris gathered some oxygen in his lungs and spoke up. “C-Can I say something?”

 

All eyes turned towards Chris: Emily's parents glared at him, the principal and teacher looked passive, and Chris's mother gave him a pleasant smile.

 

“By all means,” the principal told him. Chris fidgeted and prepared what he was going to say.

 

“Uh,” Chris began, his throat suddenly very dry. He swallowed and started over. “Well, prom is a big deal for a lot of people. I mean, for some students it's, like, the one thing that keeps them going through high school, you know?”

 

He didn't receive an answer. He hadn't expected to. He drew a deep breath and continued.

 

“It's not such a big deal for me. I think it's just like any other dance. But... I don't know how Jonny feels about it. To be honest, I'm not sure it really matters how he feels about it. That sounds harsh, I know, but... I just mean that...

 

“Well, Jonny and I have known each other all... all his life, I guess, since I'm older – but you know what I mean. We've been best friends since before we could even talk. We do almost everything together. I even... I haven't even chosen where I'm going to college yet, because I'm not sure where Jonny's going and I don't want to go anywhere without him. I know that probably makes me pathetic, but I guess that's what I am then. I...”

 

Chris paused. The silence in the room and the intense stares from the others made him feel even more nervous. A large part of him was glad that Jonny wasn't in the room. He stared at the ground and forced himself to go on.

 

“All I want is to have one night to show him how much he means to me. I guess it doesn't have to be prom, but...” Chris shrugged his shoulders. “... I just thought maybe it could be. At least then I'd have a good excuse to spend a lot of money.”

 

Chris let out a small, nervous laugh. After that, the only sound in the room was the squeaky noise the principal's chair made when he sat back, looking rather ponderous.

 

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

 

Very few students actually watched when they walked into the room, hand in hand. For the most part, they were all too busy dancing or talking among themselves to notice or even care that Chris and Jonny had entered – which was just as well, since it allowed for the boys to focus on enjoying the evening.

 

Chris was particularly glad for it, not just because of all the trouble they had gone through in the prior weeks, but also because the hours before he left his house to fetch Jonny had been among the most hectic and nerve-filled in his entire life.

 

The first thing that went wrong was that he lost his tie. The worst part about it was that the tie did not actually belong to him. It was a tie that his father had let him borrow for the night, a nice plain black tie that looked like it must have cost a small fortune. And Chris lost it within an hour of receiving it. He searched his room from top to bottom and still came up empty-handed. He checked every crook and crevice in the living room in case he had left it behind after speaking with his father. Eventually, he found it, resting on top of the suit jacket lying on his bed. He cursed the matching colors and set off to ask his father how the hell he was supposed to actually tie the tie.

 

Then came the shoe fiasco. One of his greatest fears was that the shoes would fit perfectly until the night of the dance, when suddenly he would find that his feet had somehow swelled like balloons and could no longer fit into the shoes. Luckily, no such thing happened; however, he did have a run-in with a nasty patch of mud just outside the front door of the house. He cursed the spring rain and went back inside to clean off his shoes.

 

Consequently, he was nearly ten minutes late when he finally walked over to Jonny's house. He knocked on the door and hoped that the worst of his luck had already passed. He felt no better when Jonny opened the door, looking effortlessly perfect. He cursed his own ineptitude and the tight feeling in his chest.

 

“Sorry I'm late,” Chris spewed, feeling rather embarrassed afterward. Jonny shook his head.

 

“No, it's fine. I actually only just finished getting ready. And I was afraid that you would show up too early and it would take me forever to finish and you'd have to wait around and you'd get bored and I'd lose something and I wouldn't be able to find it and...” Though the timid tone in Jonny's voice was quite clear, Chris could just barely detect it. It wasn't until Jonny continued with, “Well, the past few hours have just been kinda... hectic,” that he realized maybe Jonny's perfection wasn't so effortless after all.

 

Chris smiled and leaned in to place a soft kiss on Jonny's cheek. He didn't fail to notice the light flush just under Jonny's bright eyes and he took a few seconds to muster up the ability to speak again.

 

“Let's go,” he said in a near whisper. Jonny reached back for the door with one hand and forward for Chris's hand with the other.

 

Chris stepped in another mud puddle before they reached the sidewalk.

 

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

 

“OK, everyone, if I can please have your attention,” the girl on stage announced to the room. She was the head of the student council. She seemed to have an overly bubbly personality, judging by her tone of voice. The students in the room all turned their focus towards her. “The votes have been tallied and it's time to announce your prom King and Queen!”

 

There were a few joyful shouts and lots of clapping in response. Chris hooked his arm around Jonny's and rested his chin on the other boy's shoulder as they watched.

 

The girl on stage pulled an envelope seemingly out of nowhere. She turned to look towards the band behind her and said into the microphone, “Drum roll, please!”

 

The drums rolled and the girl on stage opened the envelope with quick fingers. She read the note and leaned into the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, it is my honor to announce that your prom Queen is... Hannah Andrews!”

 

The room burst out in applause and several girlish shrieks as a dumbfounded girl in a powder blue dress climbed the steps to the stage. Chris stood up straight and released Jonny's arm to clap along. The girl on stage handed Hannah a fancy tiara and let Hannah take over the microphone.

 

“Uh... Wow,” Hannah said. “Uh... Thanks, guys. I... Thanks.”

 

Hannah gracefully placed the tiara on top of her neat hair and walked to the side of the stage. The crowd settled and the other girl resumed her position, this time with a brand new envelope in her hand.

 

“All right, so, we actually had a tie for this one. Under normal circumstances, we would have an impartial party pick one winner to be crowned King, but... well, you'll see. This is different.” The drums sounded again; the girl opened the envelope slowly, though it seemed quite clear she already knew what it would reveal. “OK. And now for your prom Kings... Chris Martin and Jonny Buckland!”

 

“Seriously??”

 

Somehow Chris's outburst had been heard by everyone in the room – he figured the crowd would have broken out into applause once more before he could shout properly. Alas, the students were silent and the girl on stage heard him loud and clear.

 

“Yes, seriously! Get up here, both of you.”

 

Chris and Jonny shared a nervous glance before embarking on the path towards the stage. The other students started clapping and cheering. Chris's heart was pounding at an alarming rate and his hands were trembling.

 

The girl on stage held a crown in her hands. When the two boys finally stood beside her she said into the microphone, “I'm not sure which one of you to give this to.”

 

Chris immediately reached forward and grabbed the crown from her. Then he turned and placed it on Jonny's head. Jonny smiled at him. There were several “aw”s emitted from the crowd.

 

“You guys are too cute,” the girl said with a wide grin. She turned a bit to address the entire room. “Now, since the winners have been announced, it's time for the first dance! Normally, it would be the King and Queen sharing the dance, but,” she briefly faced Hannah, “you don't mind giving it up, do you, Hannah?”

 

Hannah shook her head with indifference.

 

“Good. Although, I suppose if you'd like, you can bring your date onto the floor and join in. You are the Queen, after all.” She laughed a bit and addressed Chris and Jonny. “All right boys, it's your show now!”

 

Chris held his hand out to Jonny. Jonny grabbed it and they began to walk off the stage and into the clearing the crowd had made for them. As the band started to play, Chris slid his arms over Jonny's shoulders and Jonny placed his hands on Chris's waist.

 

Chris closed his eyes and smiled into Jonny's neck. He thought for a long time about whispering You're my king, Jonny, but could never find the courage to actually do it. He knew it was true and that was good enough for now.

 

Jonny sighed when he felt Chris bury his face in his neck. The crown on his head didn't fit quite properly over his hair and he knew that eventually he would have to take it off. But he still couldn't believe that he was lucky enough to be here with Chris, let alone to have been given such a title. He would gladly have given the crown to Chris instead, and had actually intended to deny Chris's gesture – but that look in Chris's eyes when he gave Jonny the crown was just too much to bear. Jonny had been incapable of moving then, and even now the mere thought of Chris's expression made his knees weak.

 

Jonny moved his hands to Chris's back and held on tighter.

 

They danced like that until the night was over, not paying attention to any of the other students, simply basking in the warmth of each other's company.

 

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

 

“Yeah. But I'm glad. I think this was the best night of my life.”

 

Chris turned his head. He could still see the crown shining atop Jonny's head, though it was not actually there any longer. He smiled.

 

“Mine too.”

 

 

[jknc]

So here is the deal.

I don't usually post here.

But I wrote this little story.

And the incredibly awesome Kimberly made this banner.

So I just had to post the story and the banner.

Thanks to Kimberly the Great for her incredible skills.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 1

 

Guy looked around the ancient old room.

Full of elegant surroundings.

Then he looked at his empty champagne glass.

"Tell me again why we are here," he whispered to Will.

Will smiled politely and nodded to a passing couple.

"Because Chris wanted us to come and we weren't busy."

Guy frowned at Will.

"Who wasn't busy? I am always busy"

"Shut up," Will suggested, "And appear supportive."

"Supportive? I don't even know these people."

Will pinched him lightly on the arm.

"You know Chris' sister. It's her wedding."

"Yeah..Yeah..But I still don't see why we had to come all this way and stay in this drafty old rundown castle."

Will waved to someone across the room.

"Could you please stop your whining?" he hissed.

While smiling at the same time.

Guy took a deep breath.

"My glass is empty," he complained.

"Well get some more liquor," Will suggested.

A trio of gorgeous young women entered the room.

Causing Guy to immediately perk up.

He handed the empty glass to Will.

"I could do that or I could go trolling for bridesmaids."

He straightened his tie.

Ran a slim hand through short hair.

And licked his lips in anticipation.

Will shook his head in disgust.

"You are a male chauvinist pig," he remarked.

"Perhaps," Guy admitted.

He picked up a silver tray and examined his reflection.

Will nudged him.

"Too late," he said.

Guy followed his glance.

All the girls were clustered around another man.

"He's not so great," Guy snarked.

Will laughed.

"He's so gorgeous that I would sleep with him," he told Will.

Guy frowned at his best friend.

"I always knew there was something gay about you," he observed.

Causing Will to slap him on the head.

"I'm just saying...you ain't getting nowhere with that guy around," Will cautioned.

 

CHAPTER 2

 

Guy finished showering.

He spent a few minutes checking himself over in the mirror.

"Looking good," he said, with a wink at his own face.

He whistled a little tune as he readied himself for the night.

Despite Will's doubts he had made much progress with all three girls.

Ending the party by telling them which room was his.

All three making promises to stop by and "Chat."

He was well aware of his attraction to the opposite sex.

And once in his room with the presence of that big bed.

There was no way any female could turn him down.

He checked the supplies that he always kept.

A picture of his dog.

Check.

He didn't have a dog but girls always fell for his animal tales.

His black label American Express card.

The most famous card of all.

If the dog didn't do it.

The card would for sure.

And finally, his supply of condoms.

Arranged by color.

He always let the girl pick.

It gave her some measure of control.

And he didn't care.

Color wasn't really his concern at a time like that.

He laughed softly to himself.

Depending on the timing.

It was possible for him to get lucky three times in one night.

Still not the personal best he had achieved in college.

But he wasn't that young anymore anyway.

And to be perfectly honest..

He hadn't tried as hard either.

Guy sat down on the edge of the large bed.

Bouncing up and down a few times.

"It'll do," he observed.

Then he positioned himself.

In a seductive pose against the large pillows.

He stretched and yawned.

Then began to wait.

 

CHAPTER 3

 

Guy didn't wake up when his door opened.

He didn't wake up when the person clicked the lock shut.

He didn't wake up when the slim figure slid into bed beside him.

He didn't wake up until soft, lips touched the curve of his neck.

Then he smiled slightly to himself.

He reached up to touch the soft cheek of the other person.

"Let me do all the work," a voice whispered.

Guy tingled with anticipation.

"That's the way I like it," he said.

Relaxing and taking gentle breaths.

Soft lips kissed down his throat and to his chest.

Where a warm tongue took over.

Working its' way down to his erection.

Then shocking him with the fierce grasp of teeth.

"Whoa!!" Guy gasped, "Did you read my mind or what?"

Everything in this scenario was just like he always dreamed.

His entire body was on fire.

Every nerve pulsating.

"Hey baby..." he whispered, "You are making me insane."

A gentle laugh pleased him for some reason.

"I need a condom," he said, reaching for the side table.

A gentle hand grabbed his.

"Make it a red one," the voice said.

Lust dripping off every word.

Guy grabbed a handful in a rush.

There was no way to tell the color in the darkness.

So he just ripped one open.

"Let me," a slender finger took it from Guy.

And placed it perfectly in position.

Then two bare thighs straddled him.

Moving into perfect alignment.

Guy smiled as he felt himself slide into the other body.

Sex is the world's greatest invention,he thought.

Gentle movements became wilder.

Angrier, frenetic almost.

Guy felt the skin of his thighs being ripped in pleasure filled agony.

Until sooner neither of them could breathe.

They could only scream in ecstacy.

Just as quickly, the other body got up from the bed.

Guy wanted to move.

But he was too exhausted.

"Wait..which girl are you?" he asked.

Knowing the question would be an insult.

But he just had to know.

He wanted to see her again.

But the lock clicked and the door opened.

The mysterious lover remained a mystery.

 

(more to come)

 

 

 

[*MX*ColdplayObsess3d]

All of Us are Done For

Chapter 4: Gone

 

 

 

 

They were gone. All gone.

 

Nobody strolled along the streets of London. No buses or cars drove down the highways. Nobody was on Facebook or Twitter, there was no one on Youtube. Nobody was talking to their friends on Skype or searching Google. No planes disturbed the lonely clouds, no homeless lurked in the alleys. No money was being exchanged at the store down the street, no children playing at the park. London, and the world, was empty of people.

 

But not empty; four men, once famous for their amazing music, were standing outside an old bakery, once their studio, now just another empty building.

 

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

 

"So what do we do, Jonny? We've searched the area almost 6 times now; and the most useful thing we've learned is that there's no MarySues," said Guy.

 

"And no people to be found."

 

Chris, who had been silent throughout the search, now spoke. "I want to go back in the Bakery. I really need to do some serious jamming right now."

 

They all stared at him like he had just said he wanted to go shoot himself.

 

"Why? We should be trying to survive, not play music!"

 

"What else are we gonna do? We're the only characters in this fictional world, and besides, if the Sues come again then at least we'll be inside the Bakery and not standing in the street in front of it!!"

 

"But shouldn't we go home?" asked Will.

 

"No! We're the only people in London! And if we split up, then that makes us easier targets for the Sues that are soon to be here!"

 

And as if on cue...

 

"COLEPLAY!!!!! SQUEEE!! 1!! CHRSSY!!! JONNIE!!!!!!!GUIE!!!!WILLIKEZOMG!!!!!"

 

Coldplay had no choice but to run. They ran down the street, then tried to go left but that option was blocked by Sues. They ran right, then left, then two rights and straight, and they ran until they could run no more. However, since the Sues are VFC (Very Fake Characters), they can do as they please and not run out of energy.

 

Coldplay, after running with insane, inhuman speed, eventually ending up at Westminster Abbey.

 

The doors were open; they burst inside and shut the doors, putting as many things as possible in front of the closed doors so that the multitude of MarySues wouldn't be able to get inside. Then they sprinted up the stairs to the highest level of the Abbey and laid their tired bodies on the hard floor, and slept.

 

 

 

[jknc]

Perception

 

 

 

CHAPTER 4

 

Will peered around the corner of the barely open door.

A bleary eyed Guy stared back at him.

"What?" he barked.

Will surveyed the condition of his friend.

"Time for breakfast," he told him.

Guy rubbed his eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked in disbelief.

As he stepped away from the door to allow Will to enter.

"I'm sure," Will told him, "Everyone else is already eating. I came to check on you."

Will blinked his eyes as he adjusted to the darkness in the room.

"Can I put on a light?" he asked.

"Sure," Guy called from the bathroom.

Will clicked on the bedside lamp.

His eyes widened and he laughed.

"Must have been some night after all," he called to Guy.

As he looked at the disarray of sheets and blankets.

Guy came from the other room.

Drying his handsome face on a blue cotton towel.

"It was interesting," he said.

Raising his eyebrows.

Will smiled with a sneaky expression on his face.

"Really?? Care to tell me about it?"

Guy laughed guiltily.

"She was a maniac," he said.

A bragging tone in his voice.

"Apparently," Will said.

Looking at the bed covers again.

Guy opened a drawer and took out a striped shirt.

Checking his perfect appearance in the mirror.

Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of Will behind him.

"Hey..." he said, turning around, "What happened to your beard?"

Will's expression fell flat.

He self-consciously touched his face.

"Why?" he asked.

As he blushed a bright red.

Guy walked over to his friend.

Closely inspecting his newly shaved skin.

"I haven't seen you without one in so long. It's kind of like looking at a stranger," he said.

Will smiled with a trace of affection.

"We have known each other for freaking ever, huh?" he asked.

Guy turned back to the mirror.

"So what happened to it?" he asked.

"Well I had this date," Will began.

Guy laughed.

"Say no more," he said, "That explains it all. But at least tell me this..was she good?"

Will blushed again.

"I don't kiss and tell," he said.

"I don't care about the kissing," Guy said, "I want to know about the rest. Which one was she?"

Will shook his head.

"Can't say," he said, "Which one was yours?"

"Can't say either," Guy admitted.

Causing Will to look shocked.

"When did you get a sense of decency?" he asked.

Guy laughed.

"Don't fool yourself," he said, "I didn't. The truth is I don't know which one she was."

"Excuse me? You don't know which one she was?" Will asked.

"That's right," Guy said, opening the door, "And I hope next time I don't know either. Cause that was sexy as hell."

 

CHAPTER 5

 

"Hi Guy," Chris' sisters friend, Anna said..

With a flirty smile as the two men walked into the dining room.

Guy stopped and looked her up and down.

She was tall and lean.

Tanned from her hobby of playing tennis.

Long, dark hair.

Was it her?

I don't remember long hair.

"What's your favorite color?" he asked.

She blinked large brown eyes at him.

"What do you want it to be?" she asked.

"Red?" he asked, with a wink.

She schrunched up her nose.

"Doesn't go with my hair. I have always been partial to green myself."

No look of recognition.

Not her.

"That's a real shame," he told her.

"One down..two to go," Guy said, as he and Will sat down.

"What's he talking about?" Chris asked.

Will reached for his glass of orange juice.

"He's trying to figure out which girl he slept with last night."

A blank look crossed Jonny's face.

"How can he not know?" Chris asked.

"It had to be one of the three bridesmaids," Guy explained, "Those are the ones I invited to my room."

"You invited all three of them?" Jonny asked.

A look of terror on his face.

Chris was shaking his head.

"Nope, not one of the bridesmaids," he said.

As he took a bite of French toast.

"Why not? How do you know?" Guy snapped.

"Because all the bridesmaids and the bride had a sleepover party last night in my sister's room. It's a tradition sort of thing they all do."

Will and Guy looked at each other.

"So it had to be someone else then?" Will asked.

Chris nodded.

His big blue eyes appearing full of mischief.

Guy stared at him for a minute.

"You shaved too," he declared, "What is with all this damn clean shaveness all of a sudden."

Chris blushed.

"Jonny didn't shave," he said.

A little sneaky tone in his voice.

"Well at least I won't be the only one at the wedding with a beard," Guy remarked.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 6

 

The boys spent the afternoon in various pursuits.

Chris and Jonny went horseback riding.

Much to Jonny's chagrin.

He was not fond of large farm animals.

Will and Guy lay by the large pool.

Will, listening to music and typing away on his phone.

Guy, hiding behind dark sunglasses.

Surreptitiously studying all the females.

"Hello boys," Chris' mother said.

In a sweet tone.

"Everything all right?"

Will nodded.

As Guy studied her.

She was a good-looking woman for her age.

Beautiful skin and eyes.

That red ribbon in her hair really sets them off.

Must be where Chris gets it from.

If she wasn't married, I'd...

WAIT!!!!!!!

OH MY GOD!!!

A RED FUCKING RIBBON!!

DON'T TELL ME..........

"Will..." Guy hissed.

He looked at the other man.

Who was currently ignoring him.

"Will...." he hissed louder.

"What?" Will barked.

Guy was watching Chris' mother as she made her way around the deck.

She moved with grace.

Her legs were slim but firm.

"Oh shit...Will...."

Guy grabbed his arm roughly.

"WHAT?" Will asked again.

Aggravated at being interrupted.

Guy swallowed hard.

"Oh man...."

"You are turning pale," Will observed.

"I think.....I think....."

"You think what?" Will asked impatiently.

Guy jumped up.

"I think I am going to be sick," he said.

 

CHAPTER 7

 

Will followed Guy across the lawn.

He finally caught him at the landing of the great staircase.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked.

Guy turned around.

He was breathing heavily.

His face was white as a sheet.

His brown eyes were huge.

That one vein on his neck was sticking out.

"Shhh," he said.

With a vengenance.

"What's wrong?" Will asked.

Guy's licked his lips nervously.

He looked around furtively.

"They are going to kill me...I mean..for real....I can't believe I..."

Guy shook his head.

To try and clear away the disturbing image.

"Who is going to kill you?" Will asked.

With upturned palms.

"Chris..his dad.. his brother's.....his priest...the grocery man.. and strangers on the street."

Guy's voice rose higher as he talked faster.

He grabbed Will by the arm.

"Come to my room," he whispered.

 

"Say that again.." Will said.

A half smirk on his face.

Guy took a deep breath.

"I think I slept with Chris' mother," Guy said.

Then he took a drink of water and spit it out.

Will covered his face with one hand.

Mostly to keep from laughing.

But he couldn't keep the laughter down.

Guy stared at him.

"You think this is funny?" he screeched.

Will shook his head.

"Calm down Guy...I am pretty certain that you didn't sleep with his mother."

"She was wearing a red ribbon," Guy hissed.

"Coincidence," Will told him.

"You can't be sure of that!" Guy spat.

"Well it would serve you right if it was her, but I am sure it wasn't."

Guy crossed his arms.

"Because for one thing I happen to know that she and Chris' dad went to London last night to finalize wedding details. They came back this morning while we were eating. Which you would have known if you had joined us when you were supposed to."

Guy narrowed his eyes at him.

"Is that the truth?" he asked.

"Yes," Will nodded.

Guy rubbed his hands together.

"That was a close one," he said.

 

 

 

[Viva_La_Coldplay]

-

[J-M-P-16]

Chapter 1

 

Well, being new here, I thought that I'd share the Coldplay fanfic that I've started/am nearly done with :D Well, I realize this may have already been posted, but it wasn't by me, but I'm the one who actually wrote it. The story has also been edited since its being posted here, so . . . enjoy (I have no great title for this, sorry XP):

 

 

Mysterious invitation from the U.S. in the mail, ignore it or not? Sadly, I opened it and it was a gig invitation for a Twelve Days of Christmas party line up. For twelve nights in a row there’s a very formal and big party in New York State. Why someone would ask when they know that me and the band aren’t going on tour again I don’t know, but they did. I asked the guys and they all said it’d be okay and it sounded interesting. We left the day after New Years to arrive in the town we had to be in around 3:00.

 

“We’re here,” Guy said, “not as big as I thought it would be.”

 

“I know,” I said, “still, the letter said that the entire town was coming and that we were staying at the inn for free; eat free too. Not too bad, we just have to perform on the last night.”

 

“That’s four days away!” Jonny cut in, “Why are we here so early?”

 

“Get settled in, over our jet lag, and maybe see what our crowd’s like,” I told him, “That’s what I’m thinking anyway.”

 

“I’m sure,” he said in a very upset tone, “and the next thing you know someone’s off and drunk and unable to perform, perfect.”

 

“That’s not going to happen,” I said, “we just need to focus.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

We settled our small dispute after that and went to the inn. It was a nice old place, part restaurant and the upstairs led to the rooms we were staying in. We got into the rooms, two people per room, and got settled in for a bit. I was just relaxing for a while and I heard a voice in the room:

 

“Get away from here, other wise, you’ll pay the price.”

 

Startled by this, my rational brain said it must be Jonny trying to scare me, “Jon, is that you?”

 

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

 

“You didn’t?”

 

“No, you’re probably just a little freaked out mate, relax.”

 

“I’m trying to, but I just heard a noise, a voice, saying to get out… or pay the price.”

 

“You’re paranoid, again, just relax. I’ll go see if I can find us a cup of tea or coffee, alright?”

 

“Fine.”

 

Jonny left and the minute he did, I heard the voice again, “You aren’t listening to me, get out!”

 

“Who are you? Show yourself!”

 

I suddenly saw a person appear in front of me, a soldier from the American Civil War, “You actually believe that crap, I’m not going to kill you, nor am I going to kick you out, I just wanted to see how people react to that kind of stuff.”

 

“Okay?”

 

“Now, down to business, do you know why you’re really here?”

 

“To perform and have a good holiday in the states?”

 

“Wrong,” he pulled out a rifle and pointed it right at me, “I’m here to show you the good of life.”

 

“I thought you said you wouldn’t shoot me!”

 

“I said I wouldn’t kill you, never said I wouldn’t shoot you.”

 

“Wait wait wait! Before you do that, why?”

 

“You’ll find out in about fifteen minutes, you’ll wake up refreshed and younger, literally.”

 

“What?”

 

“Have fun Chris.” Right after he said that, he shot my left hand, right between the equal (=) sign, and I fainted. I woke up fifteen minutes later, just like the ghost said, and I really was younger. I looked to be sixteen or so, and the guys did too. I wasn’t sure of what was going on, but then I heard a knock on the door. The guys just woke up, like me, and I answered the door.

 

“Yes?” I said sleepily.

 

It was a girl, around the same age as I’d become, she had short ginger hair, “Hey, sorry to bother you, but, do you mind helping out, you and your buddies?”

 

“Uh, sure. What with?”

 

“College idiots tore down most of the decorations and we’re looking for people who can help us out.”

 

“Okay, sure, I guess.” Another girl showed up next to her, whispered something in her ear, and left, “What was that about?”

 

“Oh, nothing, it’s nothing,” she said blushing a little, “but get your jackets and come out to the porch in about five minutes.”

 

“Okay, but, I don’t think I caught your name.”

 

“I’m Mae, you?”

 

“Chris.”

 

“Great, see you outside?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Awesome, thanks again.” I nodded and she smiled at me, then left.

 

“Chris,” Guy said regaining consciences, “what was that all about?”

 

“We’re helping out, get your jackets on and let’s go.”

 

“Okay?”

 

We got our jackets on, and before we left I looked at my hand. The equal sign was still there and there was a round purple bruise between the two lines. I grabbed some loose pieces of fabric I found from my bag and tied them together and then around my hand. I was the last one outside and was amazed to see how much had been destroyed.

 

[J-M-P-16]

Lost+ ft. Curly Cue

 

Well, this is just an idea I got to mix Coldplay and my OC, Curly Cue, together into a story. Just so you know, Curly Cue is only four, now, on with the story:

 

 

“This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this cannot be HAPPENIGN!!!” I thought as I walked around the park. “This is impossible!” I looked at my now much smaller hands, then I looked up, the trees and fences and . . . everything was bigger, except for me, I was smaller. My voice wasn’t even the same, it was much higher than it had been, much higher. I stayed quiet since I became . . . “smaller”, the voice was embarrassing to me, it wasn’t my usual baritone, that, and I hated it. I kept walking in my disbelief for a while, wandering aimlessly, until I heard, “SPEED BALL!”

I turned my head and then everything went black, I woke up in some strange place, lying on a couch with a splitting headache.

“Oh, thank God, you’re awake!” I heard. I sat up and saw a girl, about 16 or so, with short, dirty blond hair, and she was smiling at me. “You okay little guy? You took quite a hit to the head.” She kept on smiling at me, it was a kind smile, but it was still strange to me. Everything was, I had never been in this place, nor have I had a teenager look down at me, normally, it was that they were a fan and looking up at me.

“Is he up, Tori?” I heard a voice ask, a high one, like mine.

“Yes, Aaron, he is. I think you have something to say to this boy, don’t you?”

I heard a pounding on the floor, which hadn’t helped with my headache, but it was the running footsteps of a small boy. He looked to be about four, had oddly white hair, deep brown eyes, and a shirt with some cartoon character on it. He had a blank look on his face, but when he saw me, he dropped his head and looked down.

“Go on,” the girl said, tapping his shoulder so he’d move in my direction.

The boy moved forward and looked up at me, a slight blush on his cheeks, “I’m sorry for hitting you.”

“What?” I finally said.

The little boy’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened slightly to say something, but the girl beat him to it, “Oh, man, you really did hit your head hard,” she said, “You don’t know what happened did you?” I shook my head at her. She sighed, “Aaron, could you get the mirror for me?”

“Okay,” the boy replied, running off and then coming back about a minute later with a hand mirror, “here.”

“Thank you, buddy,” the girl said, messing up the boy’s snow white hair. The boy laughed and she handed the mirror to me, “Take a look.” I looked at her, confused, then looked in the mirror.

I discovered why everything seemed so much bigger and me so much smaller, I was younger. I looked to be about the same age as the boy, four, and there was a huge bandage over my forehead, one on my cheek, and there were a few small cuts that had already healed over. I dropped the mirror on the couch and started shaking.

“You okay?” the girl asked. I couldn’t reply, I was so unaware of what to do, what to say, I was just shaking. “Hey, are you okay?”

I finally said something, but it wasn’t actually words, it was a scream. I screamed . . . why did I scream?! My voice was piercing, and after, I heard another set of footsteps pounding the floor, but it was from above me. Another child ran into the room and said in a worried tone, “What’s goin’ on out here?!”

“Nothing, Curly Cue, the kid Aaron hit . . .uh . . . I’m sorry, what’s your name?” I didn’t answer. “What’s your name, are you gonna answer me or what?” the girl asked again.

“HEY!” I finally heard, and I snapped back into reality. I looked over to where I heard the voice and I noticed the other child in the room. It was a girl, about the same age as the little boy, curly, short red hair, green eyes, and she had freckles that lightly lined her cheeks and nose. She had her hands on her hips and was trying to be serious, a look I recognized from Apple, “Are you gonna talk to us or what?!”

 

[Viva_La_Coldplay]

-

[J-M-P-16]

Lost+ ft. Curly Cue pt. 2

 

 

“Uh . . . um . . .” I managed to get out; I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. This little girl, so much sass and . . . curly red hair with green eyes? My thoughts hit me and I thought myself crazy for almost saying Jon, she was a mini, female Jonny! At least, for a moment, that’s what I thought, but then my brain sorted things out and I was almost back to normal. I looked back at the girl after my zone out and she wasn’t there.

“Wha? Where’d she-” I was cut off by a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see the girl again, a smirk on her face . . . which was right in mine. I jumped . . . she was WAY to close for comfort.

She laughed at me, “You’re funny,” she said in an innocent tone. She nearly tackled me with a hug after that and I could feel my cheeks become warm with a slight blush, “Sorry for hittin’ ya earlier.”

“Uh . . . okay?” I said, rather confused, “What do you mean by that you hit me?”

The girl put her hands on my shoulders and pushed herself away from me, “You’re kidding me, right?”

“No, what are you talking about?”

“Curly Cue, c’mon,” the older girl said, “he did get hit pretty hard, I doubt her remembers what happened.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” I yelled, making my headache worse than before. The red head looked at me funny but she was also surprised. The blond was not impressed with my outburst.

“Okay, a: watch your mouth, and b: you were hit with a baseball, right square in the forehead.”

“Say what?” I asked.

“A baseball, ya never played baseball before?” the red head asked.

“Well . . . uh . . . I’ve played Cricket, baseball, not too much.” The red head’s jaw dropped in disbelief, “What?”

“We need to get you up and out to play some catch!” she said, grabbing my hand and dragging me along with her off the couch and onto the floor. I felt her grip on my hand for not even 15 seconds when the older girl picked the red head up.

“Do you know no personal boundaries?” she asked the red head.

“Personal what?” the red head asked.

“Oh, c’mon, you need a nap.”

“Nu-uh!” the red head protested, “Put me down! I wanna play catch!”

“Last time that happened you nailed this kid in the head.”

“It wasn’t me though! It was Aaron!” The two kept arguing when I felt another tap on the shoulder. I turned to see the boy with white hair again, a couple of cookies in his hands.

“Here,” he said, smiling at me and sticking out one of the cookies, “Curls is always doing this kind of stuff, she’s stubborn. Don’t be surprised either, she knows no boundaries either.”

I took the cookie from him, laughing slightly, “What do you mean by that?”

“I dunno, it’s just what Tori always says.”

I laughed and took a bite out of the cookie, the boy did the same, but his attention shifted from me to the older girl and the red head. I smiled and also watched. It was a short battle, but I didn’t care, it was nice to know that at least one of the people in this place wasn’t insane.

 

[Viva_La_Coldplay]

-

[Viva_La_Coldplay]

-

[Viva_La_Coldplay]

-

[coldplayisawesome]

Enough to Stay Out All Night

 

 

 

“Say my name. Tell me you love me.”

 

A soft laugh. “I thought I was the one who gets to make the demands.”

 

“Do it, please?”

 

There were a few moments of silence. His heart was racing in his chest, but not because of the physical activity. He may have been the one being paid for it, but he needed this just as much as they did. He heard plenty of stories of other boys who felt dirty and used afterward, but not him; he went home feeling loved.

 

It was a rush and it was never enough. He had to go back out again every night, not just to earn his living but to feel wanted. He asked the same of each one, and when they whispered in his ear he closed his eyes and didn't think of them.

 

“I love you, Chris.”

 

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

 

The bus was nearly empty as it always was at this time of day. Most people were at work now, their children at school. Chris probably should have been at home, sleeping, but he ignored his fatigue for the chance at another rush, an indescribable rush better than any other. He quickly checked his cellphone – it was one-thirty.

 

Only a minute later the bus stopped and a man with a dark green cap got on. Chris knew him well, stared as the man sat down on the other side of the bus, taking in all the details he was already familiar with. He wasn't sure how long it would be before the man noticed him.

 

///////////////////////////////

 

There was a giant mirror in the middle of the room. With nothing better to do, Chris stood in front of it and examined his reflection.

 

He started down at his feet, his least favorite feature. He made sure to wear shoes as often as possible, and when he wasn't wearing shoes he wore thick socks so that he would never have to see his own feet. The skin was always dry and cracked and was not a fair representation of his beauty.

 

He liked his legs, though. They were long and slender, and even though his thighs could have been slimmer he thought they still looked appealing. His jeans hung low on his hips and his shirt rode up a bit if he held his shoulders square enough. The bit of skin the movement exposed was pale, but smooth, much better than the skin on his feet.

 

His stomach and chest were flat. He wasn't muscular at all, but at least he was lean. His arms were fairly thin, and his collarbone was prominent. He had a scar on his throat from a surgery he'd had as a child. He used to think it looked ugly, but in time he had grown accustomed to it and was able to appreciate it well enough. He liked to make up gruesome stories about it whenever one of them inquired, which always earned him a bit of their sympathy.

 

His eyes fell over his own visage. Despite the small gap in between his two front teeth, he had always thought he had a nice smile (it was a shame that he smiled too infrequently) and had been told so on several occasions. His hair was growing a bit too long for his liking, the ends starting to curl enough to form actual ringlets. He would have to get it cut soon.

 

His eyes were always the last thing he liked to see. Sure, they were a rather pretty blue and had earned him plenty of compliments in his lifetime, but there was just something unsettling about looking into his own eyes. He had heard once that blue eyes were supposedly equated with innocence – every time he thought about it now he bit back a laugh. He imagined that the bluer the eyes, the more innocent their owner, and so he would ask himself how he ever ended up with such a color. He never felt bad about what he did, but he knew he was far from virtuous.

 

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

 

Chris stared for approximately thirty seconds before Jonny noticed him. He had been in the middle of slipping an earphone over his right ear when he looked up and saw Chris. He smiled and waved with his free hand, saying, “Hi,” in that quiet voice of his.

 

Chris waved back and echoed, “Hi.” Jonny went back to sandwiching the hook of the earphone in between his earlobe and the thick fabric of his cap. While Jonny was distracted, Chris had taken the liberty of grabbing his bag and moving to the empty seat on Jonny's left. He watched Jonny for another few seconds, then nervously glanced around the rest of the bus.

 

///////////////////////////////

 

A pair of hands crept over his hips and up his sides, fingers slipping under the hem of his shirt and slowly lifting the fabric. He was always relieved that he was not as ticklish as some of his other family members were, though he was sure that if he started giggling now it would only be welcomed. Instead, he stood with a blank face and an imagination that replaced almost all of the factual details of that moment:

 

He wasn't in another unfamiliar hotel room at midnight. He couldn't smell the stench of alcohol in the hot breath gliding across his neck. The hands that touched him weren't the hands of a stranger.

 

He was loved.

 

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

 

Abruptly, Jonny removed his left headphone and asked, “Are you doing anything Friday?”

 

Chris had no reason to doubt that Jonny was talking to him, because there was no one else on the bus except the driver. His heart beat a little faster. “I was thinking about going out,” he coolly replied with a casual shrug of his right shoulder. “Why?”

 

Jonny dug into his backpack and retrieved a slightly crumpled piece of paper, which he then handed to Chris. It was a neon green flyer.

 

“There's this open mic at the coffee shop Friday night,” Jonny told him. “I'm gonna play for a bit. You should come.”

 

Chris saw the excitement in Jonny's eyes. He knew how much Jonny loved performing, especially in front of his friends. “Maybe,” he said, looking down at the flyer and tilting his head to the side. “I'll have to think about it.”

 

///////////////////////////////

 

“What's your name?”

 

“John.”

 

Chris smirked. He always used his real name – he needed to use his real name – but he knew that no one else ever did. John was such a common name, such an easy choice. “Can I call you Jonny?”

 

The man hesitated at first, wondering if he was being serious, and then smiled back and winked at him. “You can do whatever you like.”

 

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

 

Chris wrapped a piece of tape around his finger with the adhesive side facing out and stuck it to the back of the flyer. He did this another three times, one for each corner of the paper. Then he carefully held the flyer up to the wall and made sure it was parallel to the other papers he had taped up in the past. He pressed his hand firmly on the paper until he was certain that it would not fall.

 

He stood back and admired his work. He had at least twenty other flyers on his wall, all of which he had received from Jonny. There were also a few small slips of paper from the gigs Jonny had done which had not been important enough for an entire sheaf.

 

The wall was the same one that his bed was pushed up against. He stood on the mattress whenever he needed to add another flyer to the collection. After sticking the newest one up there, he looked down at his sock-covered feet and tried to avoid stepping on the guitar that he always kept on his bed.

 

He jumped down to the floor, but almost immediately went back to the mattress, this time lying down and slipping under the blanket. He reached his hand out and placed it gently on the neck of the guitar. The strings always made a weird, scratchy sound when he ran his fingers over them, never actually strumming. He didn't know the first thing about playing the guitar, but it had never been his intention to use the instrument the way it was meant to be used.

 

///////////////////////////////

 

“I've been trying to sell my one guitar for the past month,” Jonny was telling him as they sat in the coffee shop one rainy afternoon, “but it seems like no one wants to buy it.”

 

“How much do you want for it?” Chris asked. He absentmindedly swirled the coffee stirrer around in his cup. Jonny threw him an intrigued look.

 

“Why, are you gonna buy it?”

 

“That depends. How much do you want for it?” Chris repeated with slight emphasis. He could tell that Jonny was unsure of his reaction to what was probably just an attempt at making conversation, not money.

 

After the pause, Jonny answered, “A hundred.”

 

Chris smiled and held out his hand. “Deal.”

 

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

 

The song was halfway finished when Chris walked into the coffee shop. At first he was afraid that it was Jonny up on stage and that he had arrived late, but he looked and was relieved to find that a woman actually stood in front of the crowd. He spotted Jonny off to the side of the stage, but did not wave; Jonny wasn't even looking at anyone in the shop, his attention focused on the guitar in his hands. He bent over and fiddled with the tuning pegs, then gently strummed a few of the strings. Chris took a seat somewhere in the middle of the audience.

 

He liked to sit in the middle, because it showed that he was supportive without seeming too supportive. He often thought about purposely coming into a performance of Jonny's a bit late just to act like it wasn't the only thing he thought of the entire day, not even close – but it really was the only thing his mind could focus on and he didn't want to miss even a second of seeing Jonny play. So, he settled for sitting a few tables back from the stage.

 

Jonny was an instrumentalist and not a lyricist or singer, but his songs always felt complete regardless, like a few vocals here and there would add almost nothing to the experience. Chris liked to watch Jonny concentrate while he played – his eyebrows drawn but the rest of his face appearing relaxed – but the music itself put him in some sort of trance. Chris was almost jealous of how easy it was to admire Jonny's talent, his art.

 

///////////////////////////////

 

Chris stood in the doorway while he waited for Jonny to fetch his guitar. He looked around, but was far too nervous to actually walk into the room – Jonny's room. He was standing in the doorway of Jonny's room, something he had only dreamed about for ages. There were many little posters taped to the walls of people who Chris guessed were musicians. All the pictures had the glossy look that meant they had been torn from various magazines.

 

There was little else in the room. Jonny had a small desk next to the window which had no drapes or blinds. Chris wondered if the light pouring in ever bothered Jonny.

 

Jonny's bed was against the wall opposite the window. Jonny was off to the side of it now, digging in his closet for the guitar case. The guitar itself rested on Jonny's bed; Chris stared at the guitar, but didn't see it, too busy taking in the image of that bed – the sheets ruffled just a bit – and committing it to memory for the next time he had a client. If only the memory could be more than just an image...

 

Chris pulled himself back to the present and tried to subside the longing he felt deep in his chest as Jonny gently set the guitar down in its case. He very briefly thought about bustling across the room, dragging Jonny down onto the bed and learning the feel of those sheets (and why not? He couldn't be sure if he would ever be this close to the room again), but he didn't, because it couldn't happen like that.

 

While Jonny closed the guitar case and traveled across the room, Chris pulled out his wallet and extracted a wad of bills. He and Jonny traded, case for money, and Chris held the handle of the case with both hands and watched as Jonny looked at the bills with some confusion. Jonny had counted what was there, his fingers stuck in the middle of the pile.

 

Jonny lifted his eyes to Chris. “I thought we agreed on a hundred.”

 

“Well,” Chris began, realizing that the guitar and case were far heavier than he had assumed they would be, “we did...”

 

“You gave me two hundred,” Jonny blankly said.

 

Chris refrained from blinking. “It's worth two.”

 

“Actually, I only bought it for-”

 

“It's worth two,” Chris said again. Jonny stared at him for a while with a dumbfounded look, then seemed to give up the fight and pocketed the money.

 

“Thanks,” Jonny told him in a quiet voice.

 

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

 

“Are you planning on watching the rest of these people or do you want to get out of here?” Jonny softly asked. His voice had come out of nowhere and startled Chris, nearly forcing him to spill the cup of coffee in his hand.

 

After recovering from his near heart attack, Chris turned to find Jonny standing only a foot away and leaning his elbow on the table. Chris quickly looked back at the stage before answering. “Well, I'm sure the other people would appreciate the attention, but,” he glanced at Jonny, “I suppose there are better things to do with my ti-”

 

“Good. Come on,” Jonny interjected, firmly grasping Chris's arm and yanking him out of his seat. Chris was surprised by Jonny's strength, as he was sure that Jonny was surprised by Chris's fragility. He let himself be dragged across the shop to the outside world and decided that in the darkness it was all right to let out a quick smile.

 

///////////////////////////////

 

He remembered the first time it had happened more clearly than he could remember any other time, which made sense, at least to him, since that first time was extremely significant. It was what started everything, what caused him to live his life the way he did now.

 

He had been sitting at the bar, just waiting for someone to come up to him. He had heard that this was how that sort of thing was done and he felt that his source was reliable enough to actually listen to. He waited for quite a long time, but eventually a man did start talking to him.

 

“You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?” The man rested his hand on Chris's arm as Chris glanced up at him. The man looked startlingly young, yet he still managed to have a creepy air about him. Chris didn't really care what he looked like, though. “I'll bet you do all sorts of stuff.”

 

“Anything you want.”

 

“How much?”

 

“Two hundred an hour.”

 

The man gave him a knowing smirk. “You're new at this, aren't you?”

 

Chris stood up and tried to make himself look superior. “Do I look like I'm new at this?”

 

The man thought for a few moments, considering the question. He looked far less certain than he had ten seconds ago. “I guess not.”

 

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

 

There was a tree in the park so huge that both he and Jonny could lean up against it side by side, still leaving just enough room for a third person. The distance between them now was approximately one human body, but that was just because Jonny had his guitar out, and if Chris sat too close he would get hit by the neck.

 

Jonny had just started playing out of nowhere several minutes prior. There was no real lighting around them, but Chris still watched him anyway, and could still clearly see the meticulous expression he wore. He didn't even care that the bark of the tree was scraping against and digging into his back; Jonny and his guitar were beautiful and that was all that mattered.

 

///////////////////////////////

 

He closed his eyes, because he didn't think it made much of a difference whether or not he was really in the moment. The room was pitch-black anyway, and he was sure the other man wouldn't mind too terribly.

 

There was a shift of the other body and then hot air was being quickly exhaled around his ear. Chris kept his eyes shut tight and wondered what wouldn't be weird for him to think of (this being the first time, and he had been working for several months before he had known the dark green cap), because if he didn't think of something else then he may as well have had his eyes open.

 

Then there came a whisper in his ear, deep and wanting. “God, you really are beautiful.”

 

And something in the back of his mind lit up.

 

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

 

“Jonny, how much do you like me?” Chris asked while simultaneously trying to prevent his slightly melted ice cream from dripping down the cone and onto his hand. If he hadn't been so tired, he would not have asked the question; alas, the sun was rising over the horizon and Chris couldn't remember the last time he had slept for more than three hours in a row.

 

Jonny sounded just as tired as he did. “Enough to stay out all night,” he answered with a slight, fatigued slur in his speech.

 

“How much is that?”

 

Chris turned to Jonny. Jonny was doing the same thing he had been doing, trying to keep his hands free of ice cream, except that Jonny looked a lot better than he must have. Chris caught glimpses of Jonny's, tongue every few seconds and in his tiredness thought that he himself felt quite like melted ice cream.

 

Jonny stopped to look up at Chris. Chris could see that, as with most things he did, he had caused Jonny a bit of confusion. “A rather generous amount. You know... We're really good friends.”

 

Even though Jonny was clearly greatly affected by fatigue, Chris still believed what he said – after all, it wasn't as if Jonny was drunk or anything along those lines. They just were both in desperate need of some shut-eye.

 

“Well,” Chris began, importantly, looking out once more at the sunrise, “I'm really good friends with a lot of people.”

 

“Ah. Then I guess I don't feel so special anymore.”

 

Like with everything else, Chris didn't show it, but at that moment he felt like he'd lost a battle.