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[coldplayisawesome]

The Alley

 

Chapter Three -- Part One

 

 

Chris rushed past the large crowd of students playing footbag by the school's entrance. He had made a habit of exiting the school as quickly as possible once the end of the day's bell rang, just so that he could reach home and, more importantly, Jonny as quickly as possible. One of the students in the circle nearly bumped into him as she backed up to hit the foot sack with her shoulder in a timely fashion, but luckily Chris dodged out of the way. He meant to keep walking, but a sudden and familiar laughter halted him in his tracks.

 

He turned his head ever so slowly to the left, as that appeared to be the direction from which the laughter originated. Standing roughly ten feet away, teeth biting down hard on his bottom lip to stifle any further laughter, was Jonny. Chris blinked forcefully to ensure that he had not simply imagined the other boy's presence, and he was delighted to find that when his eyelids reopened, Jonny still stood, looking at him and smiling.

 

“Jonny!” Chris beamed, taking the necessary steps forward in order to reach the smiling boy. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Well, obviously I'm here to watch you get nearly trampled by teenage girls,” Jonny replied in a sly way that made Chris feel like his insides were grinning.

 

“Oh, that.” Chris shrugged. Then, after a few moments of not knowing what to do, he sharply inhaled and leaned in closer to Jonny.

 

But Jonny cringed backwards, holding up a hand in between Chris and himself. “Chris, uh, not – not here. Not...” Jonny cleared his throat, “in public.”

 

Chris slouched back and nodded firmly. “Oh, OK.” He pushed up the frames of his glasses and noticed that Jonny was staring off into the distance behind him, an almost pained expression painted across his face. He turned to follow Jonny's gaze, his eyes stumbling upon two thuggish boys relatively close to the doors of the school. “Those are your friends, right?” he tentatively asked, knowing full well that they were in fact Jonny's friends.

 

“Yeah.” Jonny's tone made Chris want to throw his arms around the other boy and hold on as tightly as he could without causing injury. He held his breath for a few seconds and reminded himself, Not here.

 

“But you haven't talked to them in a while.”

 

Jonny ducked his head momentarily as he mumbled, “They just sorta stopped coming around.” Then he flicked his eyes up at Chris again, making brief eye contact and sighing. Chris could feel Jonny's pain in his chest as if it were his own, and he thought maybe the look in Jonny's eyes said, You're my only friend now. Part of him felt special thinking that – he and Jonny, together, against the world – but he knew that it didn't make Jonny feel special at all, and so the other part of him burned with empathy.

 

“Shall we leave?”

 

Jonny nodded slightly and began to stalk off towards the road. Chris walked beside him, very close, and he scrunched up his nose to keep his glasses from falling as he stared at the ground beneath them.He felt very tempted to grab Jonny's hand, but once more Not here rung in his ears. Which was just as well, as Jonny had folded his arms across his chest and so his hands were not really available anyway.

 

They walked quietly for roughly five minutes. Chris had wanted to say something, but try as he might, he could not think of a single word to utter. The entire time he just thought about what other people would normally do in this sort of situation, coming up quite short-handed, until finally Jonny was the one to break the silence.

 

“Do you need me to carry any of your books for you?” he asked, one of his hands reaching up to nervously scratch the back of his neck. Chris looked at him and smiled, a sort of excitement lit in his eyes.

 

“No, I finally got my locker to open!” he exclaimed. “So, I only have a few books in my bag.” In seemingly genuine interest, Jonny raised his eyebrows.

 

“You actually got it open?”

 

“Yeah! I was so happy I almost started dancing, until I remembered that I was in a hallway full of other people and I can't dance.” Chris shrugged, stared off into space and tilted his head.

 

“I'm sure your dancing is lovely,” Jonny said with a smile capering about his lips.

 

“Then maybe I'll dance for you later.” Chris was completely aware of not only how suggestive the reply was, but how strange he sounded saying it. His voice came out very flat and almost unenthusiastic, and how could anyone like that? He was too awkward for his own good.

 

“Oh my. That sounds promising. But you're not going to make me pay for such a private viewing, are you?” Jonny spoke quietly, his voice deep and rough. Chris wondered how he could emulate such a tone through his own voice. Could he, even?

 

“Well, I guess that depends on what you're willing to consider payment.”

 

Jonny laughed, throatily, and the pair continued to trade provocative statements – Chris envying Jonny's natural talent at sounding unbelievably sexy the entire time – until finally they reached the alley. Normally, Chris would have left briefly to place his belongings in his room, but today he did not feel like doing such a thing. He really just wanted to be with Jonny for a while, so he figured that his room, as well as his parents, could wait.

 

Chris carelessly tossed his backpack to the ground and sat down in his usual spot beside Jonny. “So, what shall we be reading today, Jonny?”

 

“Oh, you aren't going to dance for me?”

 

Chris shook his head, then authoritatively waved a finger at Jonny's face. “Education first, mister.”

 

Jonny sighed and rolled his eyes. “Of course. How foolish of me.”

 

They spent the next few minutes deciding on which of the books (all had come from Chris's attic) would be the one they would focus on for the day. Jonny read for an hour or so before Chris, struck with a sudden musing, interrupted him mid-sentence.

 

“Jonny, can you write?”

 

Unwavering, Jonny finished the sentence he was on, then turned to Chris. “What?”

 

“Can you write?” Chris repeated, pushing his glasses up and then clasping his hands together. He stared at Jonny expectantly as Jonny shot him a bewildered look. He didn't know if that meant yes or not.

 

“I... can write my name. That's about it.”

 

Chris nodded several times in a thoughtful way. He snatched the book from Jonny's hands without warning, and grabbed his backpack, which still rested a few feet away. From the backpack he extracted a pen and a plain yellow folder. He took a few sheets of blank lined paper from the pockets of the folder and handed the bundle over to Jonny. Jonny cautiously accepted Chris's offerings, the pen shaking slightly in his hand as he stared at the paper.

 

“I haven't... done this in a while, so...” Jonny lifted his green eyes and pointed them at Chris. “I'm not sure I remember exactly how to.”

 

“Just try,” Chris told him with what he hoped came out as an encouraging smile. He watched closely as Jonny went back to the paper, finally allowing the pen to touch its thin surface. The first letter came out as a rather crooked hook, and Chris could already sense Jonny's desire to give up. But he continued, moving the pen much slower this time to make the 'o,' which appeared a lot steadier than the 'J'. Next came the double 'n's, and as Chris observed his mind wandered and he thought about magnets.

 

If the Earth were entirely covered in a sheet of metal, and somewhere in space – far away from this galaxy, maybe even at the illusive other end of the universe – an enormous magnet existed, larger than the entire Milky Way, would the Earth suddenly be pulled to it? How long would it take to reach the magnet, especially if it were at the other end of the universe? Could the universe actually have an end? And how would the magnet truly differ from the sun, for wasn't the sun's gravitational pull a sort of magnetic force to begin with?

 

By the time Chris pulled himself away from the ceaseless questions and back to the present, Jonny had finished his first name and was working on what Chris guessed was his last name. When completed, Jonny leaned back and Chris read out what he had written.

 

“Jonny Buckland. Very nice.”

 

“Yeah, it's all right,” Jonny said in a low voice. Chris was unsure of whether Jonny meant his handwriting or his name. Either way, he thought it best not to dwell, and so he took the paper in his right hand and the pen in his left. He knew Jonny was watching him as he started to write his own name.

 

“My handwriting isn't so good,” he told Jonny in an almost apologetic tone, pulling his hand away so that Jonny could see. “Since I'm left-handed, I guess, so the ink tends to smudge. It's just not that good anyway, even if there weren't any smudges.”

 

“Chris,” Jonny mumbled. Chris turned to him with a questioning look, but he realized that Jonny was simply trying to read the paper. He felt a little guilty now for not making it more legible. “M... Mar... Martin?”

 

“Yeah.” Chris beamed and shrugged his shoulders. Jonny reached over and slipped the pen out of Chris's hand. On the fourth line of the page, he began to copy Chris's writing. He slid the fingers of his left hand under the folder to keep it steady, and Chris's breath hitched, as Jonny had grazed a very tender spot on Chris's leg. He was certain he saw a faint smile etched on Jonny's face afterward. Chris cleared his throat. “Looks good, Jonny.”

 

Jonny looked up at Chris and flashed him a wily grin. “You're right, your handwriting sucks. Even compared to mine.”

 

Chris gasped and tried to frown in an obviously fake way. He pushed up his glasses, lifted a hand to his heart and wished that he had the ability to produce tears on call. “That hurts me, Jonny. I am hurt by your words.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Jonny leaned in until there was only an inch between his face and Chris's, “you still owe me a dance.”

 

“Fine, but you have to dance with me.”

 

“Deal.” Chris smiled and bent forward, briefly locking lips with Jonny. Then he held out his hand to Jonny as he stood. Jonny sighed and rolled his eyes. As he held onto Chris's hand, he said, “This better be good.”

 

Chris shrugged. “Well, I already told you I can't dance, so you've gotten your hopes up for nothing.” He released Jonny's hand and took a step backward, a deep breath. “OK. Let's do this.”

 

Chris brought his arms up towards his chest, but, unsure of what to do next, he let them fall to his sides again. Then he realized that this was quite a good move to start with, so he repeated the motion. He already regretted agreeing to Jonny's request. In an attempt to look slightly less awkward, he began to move his feet as well. Dancing might have been easier if there was anything to dance to. His eyes had roamed around the alleyway in order to not meet Jonny's stare and feel even more embarrassed, but when he did finally catch Jonny's gaze, he noticed that the other boy was just watching him and smiling.

 

“Come on,” he whined. “You have to do this, too, you know.” Jonny narrowed his eyes at Chris, but he did begin to move in what looked like an attempt to mock Chris. After a few moments, though, Jonny seemed to have found his own rhythm, and was doing a whole mess of ridiculous dance moves, even more ridiculous, Chris felt, than just pumping his arms and shuffling. Chris gave one loud, obnoxious laugh and said, “Nice moves.”

 

Jonny laughed heartily and shook his head. “I'm not a dancer, either.”

 

Chris laughed along, shuffling his feet so that he became closer to Jonny. He managed to grab hold of Jonny's left hand with his right, lacing their fingers together. He set his left hand on Jonny's shoulder, and felt Jonny's hand placed gently on his back. Several seconds passed as they still moved out of sync with each other, but before long they were dancing perfectly together. “This is much better.”

 

“Yeah,” Jonny agreed, “I bet we don't look like idiots now.”

 

“Certainly not.”

 

Without the use of his hands, Chris had to resort to scrunching his nose to keep his glasses from sliding. Jonny watched him and smiled the entire time. After a few minutes, dizziness began to set in, and so they stopped spinning around and settled for slightly moving back and forth within a very limited range of distance. They must have danced for ten minutes at the very least; Chris was quite enjoying himself even though his nose was beginning to ache.

 

“You have to go home soon, don't you?” Jonny quietly asked in Chris's ear. His fingers curled slightly into Chris's back, though not so much that the action caused Chris any pain. In turn, Chris gripped Jonny's shoulder just a pinch tighter.

 

“Yeah, probably,” he mumbled. “My parents might be wondering where I am, although I'm sure they could guess.”

 

“All right.” Jonny moved back slightly and placed a kiss on Chris's cheek. “Well, I don't think we should try for careers in dancing, that's for sure.”

 

“No, I don't think so either.” Chris laughed lightly and went to pick up his backpack. Jonny bent down beside him and held the paper they had written on earlier.

 

“Do you – Do you mind if I keep this?”

 

Chris turned to Jonny, whose head was bowed down sheepishly, as if his question had been embarrassing. Chris smiled at him, shrugged and said, “Sure.”

 

Head still ducked, Jonny folded the paper in half and slid it into the book to mark where they had left off. Chris looked to him after he had slid his arms through the straps of his backpack. His eyes followed as Jonny slowly stood up. Chris stepped towards him, thumbs looped around his backpack straps.

 

“You look like you're going to your first day of kindergarten,” Jonny told him, grinning.

 

Chris laughed, then promptly kissed Jonny. “Goodbye.”

 

“Goodbye, Chris.”

 

After making certain that his glasses were properly pushed up, Chris spun around and began to walk home. He could sense Jonny's eyes on his person until the rounded the corner, and then quite suddenly he felt sad. He often felt this way after parting from Jonny, especially on days like this when they had been so happy together. Chris hated leaving that behind.

 

The next day he made sure to scan the school yard for Jonny once classes had ended, but there was no sign of the green-eyed boy. Chris went along without fretting, assuming that Jonny would just be waiting for him by the alley as he always did. But as Chris trudged down the sidewalk, he noticed a very familiar dark blue car drive up beside him.

 

He stopped and turned as his father rolled down the window. “Chris, Chris, Chris,” Stephen said, nodding towards the back seat of the car. “Hop on in.”

 

“Oh.” Chris did as he was told, opening the back door and hurriedly sitting down. “Where are we going?” he asked, once they began to drive down the road.

 

“We're going over to your aunt's tonight,” Stephen replied.

 

“Oh.” Chris tried not to sound disappointed or upset; it wasn't that he didn't like his aunt or cousins – they were all very nice people, actually – but he had a strong feeling that he wouldn't see Jonny again until the next day. He had been looking forward to hanging out with Jonny all day, ever since he woke up to the sound of his mother waltzing into his room with a breakfast tray. But he hadn't seen his cousins in months, and he had completely forgotten to write his aunt a thank-you note for the last birthday present she had sent him, so maybe he owed it to them to visit. That was what he told himself, anyway, several times during the evening, because he had no choice but to be there.

 

When they did finally return home, it was nearly eleven o'clock and Chris was so tired that he didn't even bother staying up to do any of his homework. He did have a study hall first thing in the morning, so he figured that would provide him with ample time to complete his assignments. Then for the rest of the day, he tried to concentrate in classes, but was totally unsuccessful as his desire to see Jonny was even stronger than it had been the day before.

 

Again, Chris was not surprised to not find Jonny waiting for him outside of the school. He decided now that it had been a one-time thing, which was perfectly all right with him. But ten minutes later, his house in sight and only a few hundred feet away, he did not see Jonny waiting for him, and he did worry. He turned down the alley and saw that Jonny was sitting in his usual corner, knees to his chest and staring at the ground in very much the same way he had when Chris had done that really stupid thing he didn't like to even think about anymore.

 

Chris slowly walked towards Jonny, who didn't seem to show any sign that he knew Chris was there. Chris was unbelievably happy at being in Jonny's presence, though he could definitely sense that something was not quite right.

 

“Jonny?”

 

Jonny looked up at Chris, utterly tired and, oddly, surprised. “Hey,” he weakly said. “I, uh... Where were you yesterday?” Chris quickly explained that he had been dragged to his aunt's house and had only returned at a ridiculously late hour. “Oh. All right.”

 

Chris absentmindedly licked his lips. He hadn't quite fixed the situation yet. He looked around lamely, as if that would solve anything. Then he noticed that there were a large number of cigarette butts in a neat pile to the right of Jonny. Almost without thinking, he said, “That's quite a lot of cigarettes.”

 

“You know I smoke,” Jonny quietly replied, then coughed, as if the two were connected.

 

“Yeah, but,” Chris looked over at Jonny, pushed up his glasses, “none of those were there two days ago, were they?”

 

Jonny stared for a while, the expression on his face indicating to Chris that he was trying very hard to hold something back – some emotion, some word, some part of himself that Chris wasn't supposed to see. “I was worried.”

 

Now Chris felt as if at least one issue had been addressed. And he felt a rather awful burning in his limbs, whether guilt or empathy he could not say. “I would have told you, Jonny, but I didn't have any way to-”

 

“It's not your fault,” Jonny interrupted, shaking his head, his voice much louder than before. Still Chris felt the burning, so he scrunched his nose and formulated a plan.

 

“Do you want to go for a walk around town?” Jonny looked up at him and nodded. Chris held out his hand, but it seemed that by the time he did, Jonny had already stood up. He let his hand fall back to his side, dejectedly.

 

“My stuff will be safe if I leave it here, right?” he asked. He could still see reservation shining in Jonny's eyes.

 

“Should be.” Chris removed his backpack and dropped it on the ground. Casually, the two started towards the opening of the alley.

 

They were silent for a while as they walked into the town, past many of the busy stores. Chris walked on Jonny's left, relying on Jonny to navigate them through the streets because he was too busy watching the green-eyed boy. Jonny had his arms folded across his chest, staring out into the distance in front of them. The look in his eyes suggested that he had spaced out, but Chris had a feeling Jonny paid closer attention to their surroundings than at first appeared.

 

In a way, Chris wondered if going for a walk hadn't been the best idea after all. He found himself sporadically glancing back and forth between Jonny and the semi-crowded street around them, while the disheartening Not here played repeatedly in his mind. He swung his arms a bit, having nothing better to do with his hands but clap them together at the height of each swing.

 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity spent in silence, Jonny quietly asked, “Is it all right if we skip the reading today?” When Chris looked at him, he added, “I don't really feel up to it.”

 

“Yeah, we can skip it,” Chris said. If he couldn't make Jonny feel better any other way, maybe this would do. He shrugged his shoulders. “I think you've been making a lot of progress with that.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Then the quiet fell over them once more, and neither spoke until they were back in the alley. Chris had, in another attempt to brighten Jonny's mood, mentioned that his backpack was indeed still there, joking that if it hadn't been, maybe Jonny should find his friends and ask them to give it back.

 

“Although, I guess that would give me a good excuse not to have my homework,” he said. Chris did not laugh, though, until he was certain that Jonny took no offense. To his relief, Jonny gave him a smile, if not halfhearted, and so he felt it appropriate to laugh.

 

“I could give you a pretty good excuse not to have your homework,” Jonny retorted, “and you'd be able to keep your things as well.” Chris stared at him, blankly, not entirely sure how to react or what Jonny had in mind. Obviously, it was something rather intimate, but as far as Chris was concerned, that didn't narrow the options down too much.

 

“More dancing?” Chris replied, though not with discomfort. He simply couldn't think of anything else to say. Jonny sort of grimaced and shook his head. “Oh. Well, then, I'm not sure I can partake in this activity, Jonny. After all, I am just a young, innocent, teenage boy.”

 

Jonny nodded and responded with, “Aren't we all,” which Chris thought sounded more like a statement than a question.

 

Chris shrugged. “Well, I think there are a lot of girls in the world who aren't boys.”

 

“That's true.” Jonny smiled in defeat. He looked down at Chris's hands, wrapped tightly around the straps of his backpack. Chris thought he heard a sigh. “I take it you'll be going home now?”

 

“I can stay if you want.”

 

“No, it's all right. You should do your homework and remain an innocent teenage boy.”

 

“Well, I guess I can't argue with that.” Chris's shoulders twitched up and he began to take a few steps backward. Pointing a stern finger at Jonny, he said, “Tomorrow, we will continue reading. Don't think you're getting out of it forever.”

 

Jonny rolled his eyes, but Chris could see that he was clearly smiling. “Can't wait.”

 

Chris paused momentarily to stare at Jonny. Then, a few seconds later, he turned around and went home, a strange feeling sweeping over him. He felt like maybe he had left too soon, yet he also felt as if he hadn't left soon enough. The sensation unnerved him, even long after he was stowed away in his room with his untouched homework in his lap.

 

This was only the beginning. Chris observed in the following days several instances which led him to believe that something had changed, and not for the better. He and Jonny spent less time sitting beside each other and reading from Chris's books and more time walking around town in silence. Jonny bid Chris farewell each afternoon with a hug that always felt as if it were meant for mere acquaintances.

 

But there were times which appeared as though nothing had changed at all; when one day Chris made a joke about his mother's cooking, Jonny looked up at him and grinned from ear to ear. His eyes seemed to glow in a way Chris hadn't seen in a fortnight. Chris was so happy then that he barely noticed Jonny scoot an inch away from him afterward, but he did catch it.

 

Slowly it became apparent to Chris that Jonny moved away from him any time he tried to get closer. Each time Chris's throat went dry and when he spoke his voice would come out unintentionally hoarse. He realized one day, sadly, that they only ever touched when Jonny initiated it. Suddenly, Chris found himself not looking forward during the day to meeting Jonny after school. On the weekends he stayed in bed longer, because he couldn't brave that tightening pain in his chest when Jonny greeted him with an absentminded, “Hey.”

 

So, as always, Chris formulated a plan. He ran through the strategy in his mind as he walked home from school. The plan was relatively simple – Chris was just going to forget that everything felt different and act as if Jonny wasn't trying to avoid him – but he was truly afraid that it would fail.

 

He could see Jonny standing and waiting even from a far distance. There were butterflies flapping frantically in his stomach, pins and needles pricking through his veins. The plan had to work. It had to.

 

Chris steadied his breathing as he stopped in front of Jonny. “Good afternoon,” he said in a surprisingly plain and calm voice. Jonny lightly laughed at him.

 

“Good afternoon to you as well, sir.”

 

Then Chris thought Oh. I can do this. He smiled and leaned in to kiss Jonny. He couldn't do it, actually, because as soon as he moved Jonny knew what he was doing, held up his hand and said those two dreadful words:

 

“Not here.”

 

Chris always thought of himself as somewhat of a nerdy boy. He wore glasses and braces, yes, but he also had a love for knowledge. He really did like school, in a way that no one else his age seemed to. He was always eager to learn; however, what he was taught in school didn't always stick with him, and he was by no means a genius. Regardless, he was sure that in all of his schooling he had never been taught that human organs could rip apart by themselves, and therefore his heart could not have literally broken in two. Yet, the pain was there, as if someone had opened his chest while he was still conscious and had guillotined his heart – worse, actually, because Jonny had done it.

 

His pain must not have been apparent, though, because Jonny nodded to the alley and said, “Come on,” without any hint of having seen a change in Chris's expression. Chris watched as he walked away, and then furrowed his eyebrows, scanning the surrounding area.

 

“No.”

 

Jonny stopped and quickly spun around. There was clear panic in his face. “What?”

 

Chris took a deep breath. “I'm done,” he said.

 

“What?” Jonny repeated, no less fearfully than before.

 

“I'm tired of you leading me on, OK?” Watching the frightened look strewn across Jonny's visage, Chris felt a strange sense of empowerment. “I'm done. I'm going home.”

 

True to his word, Chris stormed past Jonny, who was still standing in the opening of the alley and gaping. After a few seconds, Chris heard Jonny exclaiming behind him, “Wait! Chris!” but Chris ignored his shouts and didn't stop moving until he was inside his house. He closed the front door and immediately sat down after dropping his backpack to the floor. He brought his knees to his chest and buried his head in his knees, hoping that his mother wouldn't come in and ask him what was wrong.

 

He only sat for a minute or so before Jonny knocked on the door, shouting his name again. Chris let him yell for a few moments, and then finally stood up and opened the door.

 

“Chris,” Jonny said in an exasperated tone. Chris stepped onto the porch and shut the door again. “I-I... Will you at least explain to me...”

 

Chris stared out into the alleyway, carefully averting Jonny's gaze. “Jonny, do you remember when you came to meet me at the school that one day?” He could see Jonny nod out of the corner of his eye, but he had planned to continue regardless of Jonny's response. “And when I tried to kiss you, you said, 'Not here.' Which is fine. Not liking public displays of affection. That's fine.” He accidentally looked at Jonny. He decided that he may as well not break the eye contact now. “But, Jonny, you said that to me even when we weren't in public.”

 

Jonny sighed heavily and shakily. Chris bravely took a step forward.

 

“It's OK if you don't like me, Jonny. I'm used to people not liking me. But will you just please tell me and stop messing around with me? Because I can't take it anymore.”

 

After a very long bout of silence, Jonny quietly said, “I'm sorry, Chris.” Chris took this as an answer rather than an apology, and he undid his brave step by moving back towards the door. His hand was on the doorknob as Jonny declared, “No, no, I do! I do like you.”

 

“Then prove it.” By this time, Chris was standing inside again, and he nearly slammed the door shut. He wasn't sure why he chose to say that as his last statement, or how Jonny was supposed to prove anything now that the door had practically been closed in his face, but he ignored his strange logic and snatched his backpack up from the floor.

 

From the safety of his room, he stared down into the alleyway for most of the evening. A few times he saw Jonny pacing around, and he wondered if Jonny would actually do as he said. A large part of him wanted to believe that Jonny would, because otherwise it meant they really were over, and Chris didn't like that at all.

 

Chris went to bed earlier than usual that night. A couple of hours had passed since he had last seen Jonny, and as he slid under the covers he did not feel very confident in what the future held.

 

 

[coldplayisawesome]

The Alley

 

Chapter Three -- Part Two

 

 

In the morning his mother whispered loudly from the doorway to wake him up. As his mind was trying to register reality, he wondered why she didn't just use her normal voice to wake him. He turned his head towards the door and sleepily rubbed his eyes.

 

“What is it, mum?” he mumbled, finding it difficult to keep his eyes open.

 

“I think you might want to have a look outside, dear,” she replied. Chris reached for his glasses and shoved the frames onto his face. He stumbled out of bed and across the few feet to the window. Immediately, a blob of some sort of pink substance that had been smeared across the building opposite their house caught his eye, and he assumed that was what his mother was referring to. But he had no clue what it was or what it was supposed to mean. “It might be best if you look from the living room.”

 

Chris nodded, pushed his glasses up, and followed his mother downstairs. Even from the entrance to the living room he could see the pink substance through the window, which now appeared to Chris to be spray paint. His heart raced as he stopped at the window and took in the letters the spray paint formed, spelling out the words I LOVE CHRIS MARTIN.

 

Even though Chris's mouth was always open anyway, he felt his jaw drop at the sight. Ignoring all of his mother's pressing questions, such as, “Where are you going?” and, “Shouldn't you at least put socks on?” he ran outside, still barefoot and in his pajamas, leaving the front door wide open, but not having the slightest care. He flew down the alleyway and towards Jonny, who lay against a garbage bag in seeming unconsciousness. Chris did not think at all in those few seconds; even though Jonny was clearly sleeping he still bolted towards the boy, and when he reached Jonny he threw his arms around him and squeezed him like he was just a giant teddy bear. Jonny was roused by the action, lifting his head and staring with a bit of confusion at Chris.

 

“Well, good morning to you, too,” he muttered. Chris pressed his cheek against Jonny's and held him even tighter.

 

“I love you, too, Jonny.” And as Jonny's declaration had pulled Chris completely from his tired state, so Jonny was energized by Chris's reply.

 

“You do?”

 

Chris nodded and pulled back a little, so that Jonny could wrap his arms around him as well. Chris thought he could sense something like relief in the way that Jonny hugged him, though perhaps it was simply his own relief he was feeling. He had honestly been terrified until he looked out of his bedroom window, and now all he could think about was how lucky he felt.

 

“Jonny,” Chris began several minutes later, when they were no longer embracing, “where did you get that spray paint from?”

 

Jonny gave him a slightly fake smile and answered, “Nicked it from one of the shops.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Jonny twisted up his mouth as Chris fixed his glasses. “Do you have school today?” Then, after Chris nodded, he continued, “I can walk with you, if you like.”

 

Chris beamed. “All right. But I have to go finish getting ready first. I'll come back out in, like, fifteen minutes.”

 

Then, fifteen minutes later, Chris found Jonny standing outside of the alley, casually waiting. Chris smiled as he walked up. Surprisingly, Jonny grabbed Chris's hand, lacing their fingers together, and they started towards the street. Chris was unsure of just how widely he could smile without breaking any part of his face, but Jonny seemed content to try to test the limits. Of course, he probably wasn't doing so intentionally. Chris still couldn't help beaming.

 

They didn't do much talking at first, so as they walked Chris was able to think over a lot of what had happened in the weeks prior, as well as overnight. As happy as he felt, Chris did think it a bit strange how everything changed so quickly.

 

“Jonny, do you actually love me?” Though he wasn't looking at Jonny, he could sense green eyes shooting him a look. Jonny answered as if he knew exactly what Chris had been thinking.

 

“Yes, I'm not just saying it. I know it's not something to just say, it's not something to take lightly. And I have liked other guys before. I know what that feels like compared to this. Even if we are kinda... young-ish... I mean, it's not like I've never liked anyone before and I've suddenly decided I'm in love.”

 

Chris felt a twinge and frowned. “Oh.”

 

“That's not what I meant,” Jonny apologetically replied.

 

“I know.” Chris turned to face Jonny and shook his head. “No, it's OK.”

 

“And I do believe you.”

 

Chris shrugged. “Maybe that's because you're in love with me.” Jonny laughed, kissed Chris on the cheek, and then took his hand back, swinging his arm over Chris's shoulder. Chris wrapped his own now-free arm around Jonny's waist. “I just don't understand why you acted like that, then. If you do.”

 

Jonny let out a low sigh. “It's hard,” he hoarsely said, and somehow Chris knew exactly what he meant; or, he knew enough to forgive Jonny completely.

 

When they reached the school, Chris felt Jonny's arm tense around his shoulder. He looked up and into the crowd of schoolchildren and, sure enough, found Jonny's so-called friends standing not too far in the distance. But he turned and Jonny didn't seem upset. In fact, he was smiling as he too turned to face Chris.

 

“Well, I guess this is it, then.” Chris nodded, and at first he thought the situation felt rather first-date like. His eyebrows involuntarily lowered. “Have a good day, yeah? Don't let people throw stuff at you.”

 

“I'll try.” Jonny, still beaming, shrugged his shoulders (this forced Chris to double-check that he was actually Chris and Jonny was still Jonny). Then he reached out and pushed back a lock of Chris's hair. After very wrongly making an association with the times his mother used to fix his hair, Chris found himself pulled into a rather tentative kiss.

 

“Hey, Chris?” Jonny quietly asked when they were still only an inch apart.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Don't go back to being asexual, please.” Then he kissed him again. And again. And a third time for good measure. Chris felt like he was having trouble keeping up. After the fourth one, Jonny lightly laughed and pulled back a bit further. “Oh. I guess you have to actually go in, huh?”

 

Chris laughed along. “Yeah, I kinda do.”

 

“It's not enough that you're at the school?” Chris crinkled his nose and shook his head. Jonny sighed. “Greedy bastards.”

 

“But maybe it's like what my mum used to tell me when I was younger and refused to go to bed.”

 

“What's that?”

 

“The quicker I fall asleep, the quicker I'll wake up and be able to...” Chris paused briefly to blush and consider almost not finishing the sentence. “To finish reading my comic books.”

 

“Ah, so you're saying that I should leave, and then before I know it the day will be over and you'll be back?” Jonny thought about this with his eyes pointed towards the sky, tilting his head back and forth. “That hardly seems right. I mean, it's not like they'd let you out early just because you showed up early.”

 

“Oh. That's a good point.” Chris glanced at their surroundings and pushed up his glasses. “They don't let me read my comic books in class, either.”

 

Jonny laughed softly. “Poor you. Goodbye, Chris,” he said, and after a three-second pause, he kissed Chris one last time.

 

“Goodbye.”

 

Chris remained standing in the same spot even after Jonny had left, feeling much too giddy to move just yet. Plus, he was not entirely convinced that this was the real world; perhaps he was still tucked away in his bed and peacefully sleeping.

 

Dream or not, he did eventually walk into the school. Once he stopped at his locker to collect his books, dropped his math textbook – the heaviest of the lot, of course – on his foot and felt the sharp pain even through his shoe, he thought it would be safe to assume he actually was awake. He had never felt pain in a dream before. Or happiness, now that he thought about it.

 

In math class they discussed limits, and Chris found his attention drifting elsewhere. He stared out the window at the nearly cloudless and beautifully blue sky, wishing that the sun was just a little further to the west than it was now. In his mind, the blue of the sky mixed with the yellow of the sun, and all he could think about was a thuggish green-eyed boy who really wasn't that thuggish at all. Maybe just a little intimidating in appearance, but nothing else. Chris was definitely lucky, though maybe a bit too lucky for his own good.

 

Throughout the rest of the day he wondered how all those other students who had been outside in the morning could have not seen he and Jonny together, for surely if anyone had they would have said something to him, probably made fun of him, and yet he had not received any more torment than usual. Unless they simply did not care, which still left Chris feeling puzzled.

 

Jonny waited in the schoolyard again that afternoon, much to Chris's delight. They skipped the grand salutations, though, for the opportunity to return to the alleyway as quickly as possible. Jonny seemed eager to show Chris something, though he refused to say what. Chris felt his anticipation grow larger as they neared the alley.

 

From the pile of books in the corner of the alley, Jonny pulled out a story which they had not yet read together. “I did some practicing today while you were gone,” Jonny said to Chris, holding up the book.

 

Chris thought he felt something like pride swell inside of him. “Really?”

 

Jonny nodded and they spent the next ten minutes going over the story. Chris realized then just how much progress Jonny had made during their time together. He thought about it some more and came to the conclusion that Jonny's hard work and perseverance were definitely on the list of things about Jonny to love, which brought Chris to bring up a seemingly random question:

 

“Why do you believe me, Jonny?” Chris asked, presently unaware that Jonny, not having heard any of Chris's internal monologue, had absolutely no clue what Chris was referring to.

 

“What?”

 

Chris looked at Jonny and lowered his eyebrows. “This morning you said that you believe me. That you believe that I love you. But why?”

 

“Why? Uh...” Jonny seemed to be at a loss for words, whether because he was taken aback by Chris's question or because he simply had no answer, Chris did not know. He feebly gave up after a few seconds. “Why wouldn't I?”

 

“You said it yourself. You're way more experienced than I am. I don't know about any of this stuff at all. I've never even liked anyone else before. Why should you believe me?”

 

“I don't know,” Jonny said in a defensively quiet voice, shrugging his shoulders. “I guess... I know you wouldn't lie to me.”

 

“But I could be mistaken.”

 

“Well... that's not your fault, then. If you believe yourself, then I believe you.” Jonny shifted slightly so that his body was angled towards Chris. “Why does it matter so much?” he asked, not with bitterness, but with concern.

 

Chris's shoulders twitched upwards as he stared at the ground, purposely avoiding Jonny's gaze. “I just feel really confused.” And he also felt their afternoon was taking a surprisingly serious turn, but he kept the mood going anyway; he scrunched up his nose and took the lack of response from Jonny as an invitation to continue. “Because I like you... I love you, but you're the only person I've ever felt like this for. Felt anything for, really, so, it's – it isn't very clear to me at all. My parents, well, they probably don't think I am, but they want me to be some really popular kid with lots of friends and lots of girlfriends, and I feel like I'm disappointing them because I don't fit in and I don't even know if I like girls. I've never liked a girl, but I've never liked another boy before, either. You're the first person I've ever liked, but you are a boy and I don't know if that means anything.”

 

Jonny was silent for another few seconds. Chris was slightly glad for this; with the quietness it was easier for him to pretend like he was just talking to himself again, which he figured was part of the reason he had been able to say all of that aloud.

 

“I'm sorry you feel like that,” Jonny finally told him. “I know what that's like, to have no idea what's going on and to not have anyone to talk to about it. I can't promise that I can actually help you, but I am willing to listen at least. It shouldn't matter anyway, though. Who cares who you like?”

 

Chris smiled. “As long as I like you, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Jonny laughed.

 

 

[iPsy]

As promised...before I start any new FanFic's, I will be finishing a number of ones that I neglected.

You probably won't remember this one but well over 2 YEARS ago, I started a Superhero fanfic entitled 'The Coldplay', I only did one, very short part, but I never continued it...until now!!!

 

For those (probably all of you!) who need their mind refreshed, here is part one:

 

 

 

 

The Coldplay

PART ONE

 

 

 

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

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

"What film are we seeing then?" said Will

"The Dark Knight" replied Chris

"I've never seen it!" said Will

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

 

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

 

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

No reply is heard.

 

THREE HOURS LATER:

 

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

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

Chris is scribbling something in a notebook.

"Chris?" said Jonny

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

 

"The Coldplay?"

 

 

 

 

And here...is the newly written PART TWO!:

 

The Coldplay

PART TWO

 

 

 

 

"I'm here, I'm here, has the film started?" Phil asked, dressed in nothing but a towel and a cheeky grin, his hair dripping wet.

 

"It finished...you were up in that bloody bath for three hours!" Will exclaimed, angrily, turning to Phil and then turning back swiftly, throwing Chris' notebook to the floor.

 

"What's with him?" Phil asked, shrugging, as he looked at himself in the mirror.

 

"I don't know" Chris said, in a very British accent. "Is there something wrong with my idea, because if there is, I think you should have the decency to tell me"

 

"Idea? I like ideas. I'm king idea. It was my idea to manage this band and if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be where you are today" Phil said, smugly.

 

"What? Lounging about a grotty old bakery with the same friends you've had for twenty years?" Will exclaimed. "Yeah, thanks Phil"

 

"So now there is something wrong with us, is there Will?" Chris said, raising his voice. "Will...I have sacked you once, and I can sack you again"

 

Faces of disgust littered the room.

 

"Alright...that was uncalled for" Chris said, hanging his head in shame, starting to talk quieter. "But what the fuck is wrong with you, man?" Chris said, his voice becoming louder, more angry and strangely, more American.

 

"How old are you, Chris?" Will said, shaking his head.

 

"Ooh, I know this, 30-something, right?" Phil said, his eyebrows raised. He was ignored.

 

"This is the sort of stuff we did when we were little kids, Chris" Will said, his tone becoming softer and more sympathetic.

 

"Excuse me...but what is this idea?" Phil asked, sitting next to the other guys on the sofa. "Oops, I better be careful my towel doesn't fall off, like last time!" Phil said, sighing. "That was an unfortunate experience for everyone involved"

 

"The idea, Phillip, is that Mr Chris Martin wants us all to become superheroes!" Will exclaimed, his arms outstretched.

 

There was silence for a few moments before many of the occupants at the same time uttered the word; "Aweeeeeessoooooommmmmmme"

 

Chris' frown turned into a massive grin.

"You don't know how happy I am right now" Chris said. Guy, Jonny and Phil were looking up at Chris in total awe, hanging on his every word, like lovesick teenagers.

 

"Okay, we need to make preparations" Chris said, clasping his hands together. "So...Guy, I think you can make costumes, can't you?"

 

"I'll do my best" Guy said, in a very camp tone.

 

"And Jonny, my darling, best friend Jonny" Chris said, still grinning. "You can turn this place into our secret hideout. Can you do that for me lovely?"

 

"Of course!" Jonny replied, standing to attention with a saw and a hammer which had seemingly appeared from nowhere.

 

"And Phil" Chris said, his hands on his hips. "Well, can you just stand around and look pretty, okay sweet cheeks?"

 

Phil simply winked and ran upstairs.

 

"Now everyone, get to work!" Chris said, sighing in accomplishment. "Oh, Will, I forgot about Will" he said, looking around but he was gone.

 

"Will?" Chris said, walking into the kitchen, slipping on the floor as he did so. "Will, are you in here?" Chris continued, he heard the door slam behind him. Chris turned around and there was a note attached to the front door.

 

Chris walked over and picked up the note and began to read;

 

To Chris, Jonny, Guy and Phil.

 

GET FUCKED!

 

Love, Will x

It was stamped with the official Will Champion seal of disapprovement.

 

Angrily, Chris screwed up the letter and threw it across the room. "Well he always had a way with words, that is why I made him the bloody lyricist- not! Well, I'll prove him wrong, we'll probably end up saving him from some evil guy called The Joker!" Chris chuckled before running upstairs to join his fellow superheroes.

 

[iPsy]

The Coldplay

PART THREE

 

 

 

 

It was a very long, hard night for Jonny full of sawing every bit of wood and pipe in the building, hammering everything in sight and basically changing The Bakery from, well, a bakery to a superheroes secret hideout.

 

Guy, the self-proclaimed most handsome member of the group, had spent the whole night knitting, sewing and turning normal clothes into superhero costumes. He was very proud of his work.

 

Phil spent the night having another very long soak in the bath. He still felt that he wasn't clean enough and by breakfast time he was in the shower.

 

Chris spent the whole night thinking long and hard about how they, as a group, could change the world.

 

"Rolecall" Chris shouted from the bottom of the 'stairs' which had changed from a staircase to what resembled 4 fireman's poles and within moments, Jonny, Guy and Phil arrived at the bottom.

 

"Jonny 'The Shredder' Buckland!" Jonny announced. "Here!"

 

"Guy 'Pretty Boy' Berryman is here...and pretty!"

 

"Phil...uhh...'Sweet Cheeks' Harvey is right here!"

 

"And I am Chris 'The Boss' Martin and together...we are The Coldplay!" Chris announced, triumphantly, but it fell flat.

 

"Y'see, that name, it needs a bit of work, don't you think?" Jonny said, bringing the mood down.

 

"How do you mean?" Chris said, squeezing into his bright yellow costume.

 

"I mean, as superheroes, we are supposed to have secret identities." Jonny said. "Do you see what I mean?"

 

"Yeah...duh...of course, we are The Shredder, Pretty Boy, Sweet Cheeks and The Boss, we are not using are own names, silly!" Chris said tutting as he put hair gel on his hair while looking in the mirror.

 

"Yeah...but we are using our band name. If we are calling ourselves 'The Coldplay', people are going to guess that we are Coldplay" Jonny said.

 

"Hmm...yeah" Chris said, pondering. "Well has anyone else got any ideas?"

 

"How about..." Phil said, the others were waiting in anticipation. "How about, 'Chips'?"

 

"Chips?, Is that the best we can come up, damn, I'd rather people knew our identities than to be named after a potato product!" Jonny said, almost lost for words.

 

"So...'The Coldplay' it is, we'll just have to see how it goes, and if we do get caught out by people, then, they will become our enemies!" Chris said.

 

"Isn't that a bit harsh?" Phil said, chuckling.

 

"But when there are superheroes, there have to be villains!" Chris said.

 

"Yeah, but we can't just pick and choose them!" Jonny exclaimed. "So..." Jonny said, everyone was still stood to attention in their new costumes. "What do we do now?"

 

"We wait for the sign!" Chris said, looking up. "And that sign is the thing that everyone hates more than anything!"

 

"And what would that be?" Phil asked, his eyebrows raised, very intrigued.

 

"Well think..." Chris said, joining Phil in raising his eyebrows. "Yes, a Justin Bieber song!"

 

And sure enough, the sounds of Justin Bieber warbling could be heard very loudly all around The Bakery.

 

"Here we go!"

 

 

[iPsy]

DP.

[iPsy]

The Coldplay

PART FOUR

 

 

 

 

“We are The Coldplay” Chris exclaimed, punching his fist into the air before running down the street, quickly followed by the rest of the gang.

 

“So what’s the problem?” Phil asked. “What’s our first mission?”

 

“That is!” Chris said, pointing across the street to a woman being mugged. “Let’s go guys!”

 

“Help” the old woman cried, stereotypically as she was pushed to the ground.

“Thanks for the purse, darling?” The mugger grinned, before turning round and being faced by Chris, Phil, Jonny and Guy.

 

The mugger simply laughed. Sighing, Chris asked; “What’s so funny?”

“Who the hell are you lot supposed to be?” He chuckled, not scared one bit. “Superheroes?”

 

“Yes!” Chris said proudly. “We are The Coldplay…and I am The Boss!”

Phil shook his head.

 

“And we want you to give that poor old woman her purse back!” Chris said. “…Please?” he continued, grinning in hope.

 

The mugger pushed Chris over and he toppled to the ground, tripping on the curb. The mugger began to run away. Jonny helped Chris up, pushing Jonny away, Chris proclaimed in a deep voice; “Stop thief!” before running after him.

 

A chase ensued. Jonny and Guy weren’t far behind while Phil tended to the old woman. Chris started to catch up to the mugger.

 

“I’ll say it again” Chris said. “Stop! Or I will make you stop”

 

“Bollocks” the mugger replied. Chris was now by his side. The mugger looked over in disbelief.

 

“Do you want to stop now?” Chris asked, as they both turned a corner, the mugger was gasping for breath.

 

“No, never!” the mugger replied before tripping over himself. Chris, Jonny and Guy came to a halt as they stared down at the mugger, having him surrounded.

 

“Do you want to give us that purse back now?” Chris said, one eyebrow raised in contempt as he looked down at the man who was now cowering on the floor. Without another word said, the mugger handed Chris the purse.

Staring hard into the eyes of the mugger, Jonny, Guy & Chris knew that the man was now very scared.

 

“Just…let me go” the mugger pleaded.

 

“Well, thanks for coming to this party” Chris said. “How about a party bag?”

 

“What the fuck are you on about dude?” The mugger enquired, genuinely scared for his life, as these super human men continued to stare him down with some sort of psychic spell.

 

“Would you like a little present to remember us by?” Chris asked.

 

“No. I don’t” the mugger replied. “Just let me go!”

 

“Wrong answer!” Chris replied menacingly before punching the mugger straight in the face with an almighty blow.

As the gang stepped back, the mugger lay on the ground, motionless.

 

“What’s happened to us?” Guy exclaimed. “When the hell did you get so strong?”

 

“Well it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Chris said, to the expressionless faces of his fellow superheroes, as they walked down the pavement triumphantly.

 

“Is it?” Jonny asked.

“Yes, these costumes have given us super powers!” Chris replied, feeling his costume with his bare fingers. “Yes, these are some of your best work, Guy!”

 

“Well…thank you Chris” Guy replied, blushing. “But if you have got super strength, I wonder what powers the rest of us have, I mean super strength is all well and good, but all superheroes have that, ‘The Coldplay’ should have better super powers, don’t you think?”

 

“Guy, Guy, Guy, you are so naïve” Chris said, shaking his head. “We don’t choose the super powers, the super powers choose us”

 

“So when does that happen?” Guy asked, puzzled.

 

“It already has!” Chris said, grinning. “Look down, Guy”

 

“F…fudging hell!” Guy said, astonished, trying not to swear. “I’m like 200 foot tall! Can you hear me down there?” he said, very excited.

 

“Oh my god, what super power have I got?” Jonny said. Jonny looked around in astonishment as a horde of women approached him. “Well hello ladies” he said as they all gathered round him, stroking him everywhere.

 

Chris stopped, still smiling. “Hey, guys, where is Phil?”

 

“Yeah and that old woman” Guy shouted from up above. “Where’s she gone?”

 

“They were just here, weren’t they?” Chris said, puzzled. “Phil!” he shouted.

 

“Phil!” Jonny shouted, the horde of women echoed his shouting.

 

“He’s gone…he’s actually gone, he is actually nowhere” Chris said, genuinely scared and worried for his friend.

 

"Maybe vanishing is his super power?" Guy said, trying to lighten the mood, still in awe of his super power.

 

"That's probably it! He's probably joking around" Chris said. "Look, let's all go back to our hideout, I'm sure he'll turn up!"

 

"Can the girls come?" Jonny asked, his smile now larger than Guy.

 

"Uhh...yes...but they all have to wear blindfolds!" Chris demanded. "Now...COLDPLAY! AWAY!"

 

 

[iPsy]

The Coldplay

PART FIVE

 

 

 

 

A very loud alarm screeched around every square foot of the Bakery, waking all of it's occupants after a very long night of debauchery.

 

"What's that?" Jonny asked, waking up, knocking over several woman that were sprawled across him in the process.

 

"I don't know" Chris replied, appearing beside Jonny, rubbing his eyes, he was still in his costume. "Shut the hell up!" Chris exclaimed as the alarm continued to ring around the Bakery.

 

"Maybe this is a Justin Bieber song, eh?" Guy said, suddenly appearing next to Chris.

 

"I thought you were supposed to be really tall!" Chris shouted, above all the noise.

 

"I just click my fingers and I can switch to normal size" Guy replied. "How else do you think I can get in here?"

 

"Has Phil turned up?" Jonny screamed, his voice hoarse.

 

"No!" Chris shouted. And at that moment, the alarm stopped.

 

"Seriously what was-" Guy said before being interrupted by a voice.

 

"The Coldplay!" a woman's voice announced, obviously in place of the alarm.

 

"Oh, fuck, this must be our arch enemy! I never thought it would be a woman" Chris replied. "I should have known we'd get one of those sooner or later!"

 

"Yes, I am your arch enemy, Barbara!" the voice replied. Guy burst out laughing.

 

"Barbara? I thought you would be called something like 'The Great Destroyer' or something like that...but, Barbara?" Guy said, still chuckling.

 

"Ooh, you think this is funny, you won't be laughing when I tell you that I have Sweet Cheeks!" Barbara announced.

 

Guy, Chris & Jonny looked at each other- puzzled.

 

"Oh for god's sake, you can't even remember your superhero names?" Barbara screeched. "It's Phil, I have Phil!"

 

"Phil!" Chris exclaimed, Barbara started laughing an evil sort of laugh. "You give him back you monster!"

 

"Hahahaha! No way, and in case you hadn't guessed because you are all insanely stupid, I was that 'old woman' you saved!" Barbara announced proudly. "Never judge a book by it's cover. You have 24 hours to save Phil, or he will dye. Goodbye!" the voice cut out.

 

"Oh no" Jonny replied. "This is bad!"

 

"Don't worry lads, we are the heroes, and the heroes always win in the end!" Chris announced, valiantly. "Now, are you going to stand there or are we going to get Sweet Cheeks back?"

 

"Of course!" Guy said, smiling, clicking his fingers before smashing threw the top of The Bakery. Rubble descended down. "Woah, sorry guys!"

 

"It's alright Guy, it wasn't your fault" Jonny said, smiling. "So, Chris, what happens now?"

 

"We go out and get Phil!" Chris announced.

 

"Where will he be?" Jonny inquired.

 

"Well where do old women hang out?" Chris said, smiling because he knew the right answer.

 

"In old men's bedrooms! The dirty bitch!" Guy said.

 

"Well maybe your Grandma, Guy!" Chris said, disgusted. "No, but my Grandma likes to do more traditional things"

 

"The Knitting Club?" Jonny asked.

 

"The Knitting club!" Chris replied. "That's better than my idea! Let's go!" he said as all three of them began to walk out.

 

"What were you thinking?" Guy pondered.

 

"Does it matter Guy?" Chris snapped, slightly embarrassed. "Now, let's go!"

 

A voice could be heard from behind them and this time, it wasn't a woman. It was very familiar.

"Need any help?"

 

"Will!" Jonny said, grinning and running towards his friend.

 

"No, not Will, I am 'The Approving One'" he announced. "Now let's kick some old woman arse!"

 

 

[iPsy]

The Coldplay

PART SIX

 

 

 

 

"Will! I'm so glad you changed your mind!" Chris said, getting emotional as he hugged his friend. "But, you haven't got a costume!"

 

"It doesn't matter, I'll just wear a hoodie or something" Will replied, shrugging off the problem.

 

"Uhh...Will" Guy butted in, trying to get Will's attention. "Uhh, I did make you your own costume, just in case you did decide to join us" Guy said, producing a bright purple and yellow costume.

 

"Oh, buddy!" Will said, grinning widely as he hugged Guy. "I love it!"

 

"So what's next then, 'The Approving One'?" Chris asked with a toothy grin.

 

"We're gonna kick some old woman arse!" Will complied.

 

"Everyone outstretch their arms!" Chris demanded, in a deep tone.

 

"Huh?" Jonny asked, genuinely puzzled.

 

"Well all groups have a little huddle, don't they, why don't we just put our hands on top of each other?" Chris asked. Will laughed.

 

"Okay" Will said, still smiling. "Let's do this for Chris" and the four of them did a little ritual before setting off out into the daylight.

 

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

 

After several hours of loose ends and wrong directions, The Coldplay arrived at the biggest store in town, The Knitting Club, by this time it was dark. Chris, Jonny, Guy & Will gathered in front of the giant building.

 

"So what do we do now?" Jonny asked.

 

"I don't know" Chris replied, making sure they actually did have the right place. "I guess, we just, go in!"

 

"Wait, Will doesn't know what his super power is!" Guy blurted out, Will looked dumbfounded.

 

"Super powers?" Will said, excited. "You've all got super powers!? I've got super powers?"

 

"Yeah" Chris said, proudly. "I have got the power of super strength, Jonny has the power of attraction and Guy can be 300 feet tall!"

 

"300 feet tall, really Guy?" Will asked, shocked.

 

"Yes" Guy replied, smugly as he clicked his fingers and shot up to the skies in a matter of milliseconds.

 

"Well...what have I got?" Will asked, looking at his body, but before anyone could say anything else, there was a massive noise.

 

Every single window of the gigantic building suddenly smashed, thousands upon thousands of shards of glass rained down on the men.

 

"No time!" Chris exclaimed. "We're going in" and the four of them, with Guy back at normal size, sped into the building, being careful not to be hit by any of the glass.

 

The front foyer of the building was very conventional, a front desk and about ten tables and chairs littered around the room smartly and seemingly from nowhere, a smartly dressed, glamorous, blonde haired woman appeared, her high heels clacking on the clean, marble floor.

 

"Is Barbara here?" Chris announced. There was no answer. "I said, Is Barbara here?" Chris shouted, looking around. Jonny and Guy were gone. Will was still there. "Stay back Approving One" Chris asked. "If you've got no super powers, be careful."

 

"I'll be right back here if you need me, Boss" Will said, nodding slightly.

 

"Answer me!" Chris snarled. The woman's face was expressionless.

 

"You will speak when you are spoken to!" the woman snapped in a Spanish accent. Chris shut up. "Now you are saying you are looking for Barbara, yes?"

 

"Yes, I am" Chris said. "I am looking for Barbara, and my friend, he goes by the name of Sweet Cheeks"

 

"Ahh" The woman replied, with some emotion finally being shown as her bright red, lipsticked lips showed a slight smile. "The one with the lovely face, yes, I know where he is"

 

"WHERE IS HE?" Chris shouted, angrier than he's ever been. "Stop messing about, tell me where my friend is!"

 

The woman's smile turned into a big frown as the woman accelerated at Chris, knocking him to the ground. She started screeching incomprehensibly. Will ran up towards her but was knocked down by an invisible force.

"Help!" Will screamed as he landed on his back, very much in pain. Jonny appeared out of nowhere and ran into the action. "Where have you been?"

 

"Scouting" Jonny replied, smiling before turning towards the woman who was still messing with Chris' mind. "Oi, the blondie!"

 

The woman turned to Jonny before moving away from Chris and turning back to normal, smiling as she approached Jonny. "Well hello handsome" she said, grinning.

 

"Hey, you disgusting, ugly whore" Jonny said, playing games with her, she seemed to take the abuse as a compliment.

 

"You have a way with words" the woman replied. "What's your name again?"

 

"I'm The Shredder and you are possibly the most repulsive woman I have ever seen in my entire life" Jonny said, winking. In the background, Chris slowly got up from the floor and started creeping up to the woman.

 

"Ooh, you're going to make me blush" the woman said, actually starting to blush.

 

"Now, can you tell me something?" Jonny asked.

 

"Anything, anything!" she replied, moving her hair out of her eyes.

 

Chris started to approach the woman, his ears were ringing and his vision was dizzy.

 

"I would like you to tell me where my friend is" Jonny asked, calmly. "Where is Sweet Cheeks?" and as Jonny said that, Chris punched the woman in the back of the head and she fell to the ground, smashing into pieces.

 

"Yes!" Chris said, proudly as he looked down at what was left of the vile woman's body.

 

"You idiot!" Jonny screamed. "She almost told me where we would find Phil!"

 

"What?" Chris replied, puzzled.

 

"Yeah, that's right, you've ruined out chances you moron!" Jonny snarled. "Just get lost, I obviously don't need you to get Phil back, so get out of my way" Jonny continued, pushing Chris out of the way as he made his way across to the staircase at the other side of the room.

 

"You've really done it now!" Will said, shaking his head at Chris before running after Jonny. At that moment, Guy arrived back in the room.

 

"What did I miss?" Guy asked, as Jonny and Will made their descent up the stairs to the first floor.

 

"Oh nothing" Chris said, pissed off with himself. "Nothing apart from the fact that I've made things a hell of a lot harder!"

 

"What? Where are Will and Jonny going?" Guy asked, Staring at them as they went out of view.

 

"I don't know!" Chris said. "But you, you are staying with me"

 

 

 

[coldplayisawesome]

The Alley

 

Chapter Four -- Part One

 

 

They were only kissing at first – snogging, as Chris so Britishly thought to himself – but Chris should have expected (though maybe deep down, he had) that being alone with Jonny in his room with a decent sized bed while the house was completely devoid of other beings would lead to other things, like him being spread flat on his back while Jonny was roaming somewhere around his navel.

 

Chris's parents had gone out for a nice dinner date that evening and so Chris was left by himself for several hours. He had informed Jonny of this and told him that he was not allowed out while his parents were gone. He thought nothing of inviting Jonny inside, though, under the pretense that they would be hanging out in his room. Which he would certainly be doing now, of course not with the same connotation.

 

He felt Jonny undo the button and unzip the zipper on his trousers. He laid there and stared at the ceiling, wondering if he should take off his glasses for this. Jonny would probably say something about it if it was necessary.

 

Chris let out a low and breathy moan as Jonny kissed the bit of soft skin exposed between the hem of his shirt and the elastic waistband of his boxers. He wasn't sure if he was quite ready or prepared for all of this, yet he felt the pressing desire burning in his extremities and he knew he wanted to try it. Plus, Jonny was practically unstoppable at this point and if Chris was being honest with himself, he knew full well from the moment he opened the door to Jonny that this was where they would end up.

 

He raised his hips slightly, just enough to allow Jonny to slide his jeans down his thighs, the fabric gathering at his knees when he relaxed back into the mattress. Then Jonny's fingers curled around the elastic waistband stretched across his pelvis and slowly peeled back the thin fabric, and Chris sharply inhaled as a burst of air hit his bare skin. His eyes still pointed upwards, Chris let his eyelids steadily droop until all he saw was darkness; this allowed for him to better focus on the press of Jonny's lips on his skin, a sensation which was dangerously creeping up the inside of his leg until it was no longer Jonny's lips, but Jonny's tongue on the most sensitive skin he owned.

 

But within a few minutes, a time that felt far too short, it was all over. Chris gaped at the ceiling in shock as Jonny laid down beside him. He heard Jonny laugh softly and could feel his piercing gaze.

 

“Are you all right?”

 

“I-I just – ” Chris stammered – “You just... We just...”

 

“Yeah,” Jonny cautiously agreed, the amusement still seeping through his tone.

 

“Wow.”

 

Jonny laughed again, but abruptly stopped moments later. The mattress shifted a little as Jonny sat up, looking rather concerned. Chris turned to him and shot a questioning look, though Jonny did not see it, as he was turned towards the closed door.

 

“Did you hear that?” he asked. Chris strained his ears for any peculiar noises, but he heard nothing out of the ordinary.

 

Then, just as he was about to answer, a woman's voice called from the first floor, “Chris, we're back!” Chris immediately sat up as well and frantically tried to redress himself, all the while muttering various unpleasant but not exactly vulgar phrases, which he thought Jonny might have laughed at had the situation been not so frightening.

 

“Jonny!” Chris hissed when his trousers were properly on. “Jonny, you have to... hide... somewhere. Hide in the closet! My mum is probably going to come up here any minute and talk to me and if you're here that can't end well.”

 

“I – All right,” Jonny quickly acquiesced. He scurried across the room and into Chris's closet; no sooner had he closed the closet door than a knock sounded from the other door in the room. Chris apprehensively stood and went to open it, hoping his mother would only take a few seconds to talk at the most.

 

“Hi, mum.” Chris stood awkwardly and stared at his mother, wondering if he looked at all guilty.

 

“Chris, your father and I are going to watch a movie downstairs. Would you like to join us?”

 

Chris swallowed to wet his dry throat and tried not to sound too hoarse or to let his voice crack. “Uh, no thanks. I've... got some homework to do.”

 

“Can't you put it off for a few hours?”

 

Chris shrugged. “Well...”

 

“You're right,” his mother said, nodding. “I suppose we could all watch a movie together some other time, then. Well, your father and I will be downstairs if you need us.”

 

“Oh, OK.”

 

His mother glared for a few moments longer, then smiled politely and walked away. If he had looked any bit guilty, she certainly hadn't acknowledged it. Chris breathed a short sigh of relief as he closed his bedroom door again, then crossed the room and opened the closet door.

 

“There's a joke in all of this, I'm sure,” Jonny announced as he stepped out of the closet, motioning to the small space from whence he just came. “I think neither of us should make it, though.”

 

“Um,” Chris began, pushing up his glasses and squinting at the door. “I wasn't going to.”

 

“So... I guess I'm stuck in here for a while, huh? Unless you think you can manage to sneak me past your parents somehow.”

 

Chris thought for a few seconds. “Actually, maybe you should just stay here tonight.”

 

“You want me to spend the night?” Jonny asked in a voice that sounded more stirred than disbelieving. Chris watched as Jonny turned and shot a look back at Chris's bed. He felt a pang of sadness as he noticed the longing in Jonny's eyes and wondered just how long he had been sleeping in the alley outside. Chris figured the thought of sleeping in an actual bed was what enticed Jonny, never thinking that it may have been his presence in said bed which was more appealing.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Jonny looked back at Chris and smiled. “All right.” Chris beamed at Jonny as well, until Jonny gave him a pensive look instead. “You're parents won't be able to hear us talking from downstairs, will they?”

 

“Well, they might be able to.” Chris shrugged slightly, though he actually was not sure that his next sentence was really that much of a joke. “But I always talk to myself anyway, they won't be able to tell the difference.”

 

“Lucky for us, then.” Jonny smirked and glanced at the bed once more. Chris grabbed Jonny's hand and pulled him down to sit on the mattress. For several moments Chris eyed Jonny, brief clips of memories from earlier playing in his mind while his inner voice threw around phrases like repaying the favor. Then Jonny moved a tad and Chris realized their hands were still together. “That's an impressive comic book collection you have in that closet, by the way.”

 

Chris felt his cheeks redden for some reason, whether due to embarrassment or the fact that his thoughts had been less than pure he couldn't be sure. Either way, he cleared his throat and replied with, “Oh. I've been collecting them since I was about seven.”

 

“That's quite a long time.”

 

“Do you want to see some of them?” Jonny smiled and kindly nodded, and any of Chris's unrefined thoughts completely disappeared as he stood up and walked over to the closet.

 

They sat for a few hours on Chris's bed, Jonny flipping through various issues of Chris's comic books and quietly reading them with impressive speed. They alternated for a while, and so once Jonny finished an issue, Chris would begin to read the next. Chris sat up against the back of his bed frame with Jonny beside him, but Jonny was closer to lying, his head rested comfortably in the crook of Chris's elbow.

 

When the time neared eleven o'clock, Chris returned the comics to the grand collection and trudged across to his dresser. Jonny's attention was elsewhere as Chris pulled out two sets of pajamas and proceeded to hand one of the sets to Jonny. Chris said nothing, merely waited for Jonny to finally look up at him. He didn't mind, though, since he had plenty of time to just stare at Jonny, which was (now that he thought about it) one of his favorite things to do.

 

Jonny gave him a confused sort of look when he finally did move his eyes upward to find Chris's outstretched arm shoving clothing at him. Chris crinkled his nose and wondered if Jonny was ever going to take the pajamas from him.

 

“Oh. Unless you'd like these ones instead,” Chris suddenly spoke, switching the positions of his arms so that he held the other pajamas closer to Jonny. “I don't care either way.”

 

“You want me to sleep in your clothes?” Jonny asked in a tone that suggested his confusion or surprise had not subsided in the least, and had perhaps even increased slightly.

 

“Well, I just thought you might want to sleep in something more comfortable.”

 

“Thanks.” Jonny smiled in an almost shy way and he seemed to hesitate before finally taking the clothes from Chris's open arm. Chris noticed then that the pajamas Jonny had taken were actually his favorite ones – the shirt was made of the softest material he had ever felt in his life and the elastic waistband of the bottoms fit snugly against him, never too tight or too baggy like his other bottoms – and yet he felt an odd sort of pleasure knowing that Jonny would be the one to wear them now.

 

Without saying another word, Chris headed towards the other side of the room to leave Jonny to change on his own. He was tempted to sneak a peek at Jonny dressing, but somehow felt – a bit irrationally – that would be wrong in the end, and so he stuck to staring at the floor until he himself had changed.

 

But when he did finally look up again he found that Jonny had not finished entirely; Chris was just in time to catch a glimpse of the pale skin stretched over Jonny's thighs and burrowing under his strikingly red boxers, a shade which Chris was sure had thoroughly colored his own face by now. Jonny didn't seem to notice anything unusual, though, when his eyes met Chris's. He just gave a grin and returned to the bed.

 

Chris walked around to the light switch by his door. He waited until Jonny was comfortably underneath the blankets before turning out the light. He slid the thick black frames down his nose and off his face as he glided over to the bed.

 

“Jonny, can you put these on the nightstand for me?” Chris asked, reaching through the darkness to hand Jonny his folded glasses. Jonny did as he was asked, then laid on his side and stared as Chris settled beside him. Though the room was dark, a bit of moonlight shone through the window and allowed for both boys to see each other, at least well enough for Chris to notice the dumbfounded look in Jonny's eyes.

 

“Whoa...” Jonny whispered, sounding as if it was just a thought which he had accidentally voiced.

 

“What?”

 

“It's just – I've never seen you without your glasses on before. You look... like, an infinite amount of times more gorgeous than normal.”

 

Chris paused to ponder. He figured Jonny meant to compliment him. “Oh. Should I get contacts?”

 

As if Chris's question was completely ridiculous, Jonny plainly answered, “No.”

 

Chris scrunched his eyebrows together. “But you just said–”

 

“Without your glasses, you look a hell of a lot better. But with them on, you're Chris.” Chris could faintly see Jonny shrugging. He quieted himself to a murmur and added, almost sheepishly, “I love Chris.”

 

Chris felt quite startled to hear the words; though it was not the first time Jonny had confessed his love, Chris was used to hearing him say, “I love you,” and now, to hear his actual name in there, his insides twisted and he had the strong urge to bury his head in Jonny's shoulder and never move again.

 

“Oh, OK,” he replied, breathless and giddy. “Well, goodnight, Jonny.”

 

“Goodnight, Chris,” Jonny whispered back. Then they both wiggled closer to each other until their bodies were flush, and Chris felt Jonny's arms slide around his waist. He closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep.

 

When his consciousness returned, he found himself turned on his back with Jonny snuggled up against his chest. Though his eyes were closed, he felt the heavy weight of Jonny's arm on his stomach and figured that Jonny was still sleeping. He shifted a little and sleepily placed his hand on top of Jonny's and sighed into his pillow, determined to return to his dreams once more. Then he felt Jonny move as well and he smirked until Jonny was still and someone standing by the door cleared their throat.

 

Chris's eyes flew open and the blur in his doorway slowly took the shape of his mother. How could he have possibly forgotten (or at least not considered) that his mother often came into his room to wake him up on weekends? He looked down at Jonny, who hadn't bothered to glance over and was staring with wide eyes at Chris's chest. Chris let his head fall back against his pillow so that he could focus on the ceiling.

 

“Morning, mum,” he casually began.

 

“I want both of you downstairs in three minutes,” she sternly replied. He could tell just by her tone that she had her hands on her hips. “Three minutes. And if you're not downstairs by that time, I think you can guess what will happen. Then, of course, I shudder to think of what your father will have to say...”

 

The footsteps that followed indicated her departure. Chris thought briefly and decided that he couldn't actually guess what would happen if they took too long to move downstairs, but his mother had been right; his father would probably be terrifically unhappy at being woken up too early on his day off.

 

“Jonny, can you hand me my glasses?”

 

His eyes still pointed at the ceiling, Chris felt the mattress fluctuate and then thick-rimmed frames were shoved into his hand. Hastily, he slid the glasses onto his face. When his vision was finally clear, he noticed that Jonny was staring at him and smiling. Chris almost let himself get distracted, until he realized that they had already used up most of the three minutes his mother had granted them.

 

He scrambled out of bed and bounded towards the door; halfway there, he spun around and held his hand out to Jonny, who was steadily making his way across the room. Once Jonny had grabbed Chris's hand, they walked downstairs together.

 

Though his mother had not specified where exactly in the breadth of 'downstairs' they were supposed to be, Chris hazarded a guess and led Jonny towards the living room. They sat on the couch and while at first the room was otherwise empty, Chris's mother showed up within thirty seconds of their arrival, Chris's father trailing behind her and wearing a thoroughly tired look. Chris thought he could have passed for a zombie of some sort.

 

“What is all this about, again?” he asked, drowsily.

 

“Well, Stephen, I think you should know what sort of thing your son gets up to late at night.”

 

Chris glanced at Jonny to find that the other boy was already giving him a knowing look. He turned back to his parents; his father was staring at them now, looking very confused indeed. After a few seconds, he lifted his arm and pointed to Jonny.

 

“Jonny, right?” Chris turned as Jonny, presently pale-faced, nodded. His father continued to stare. Then, what felt like ages later, a comprehensive expression fell across his face – a smile, even, Chris thought. “Ah. Chris!”

 

But his reply seemed to have been too enthusiastic to satisfy Chris's mother. “Stephen!” she hissed and, sure enough, her hands had found their way to her hips once more. “Chris has clearly decided that he can just sneak around us and do whatever he pleases, and you are condoning this behavior?”

 

“Well, clearly what's done is done,” Stephen replied with a quick wink in the boys' direction. Chris sank into his seat a bit, unsure whether or not this was good. His father didn't appear to be upset with him at all, which certainly was positive, but his reaction did make Chris feel a bit embarrassed. “And so I think little can be done in response-”

 

“Yes, but, Stephen, what if he tries something like this again?”

 

Chris's father laughed. “Really? Come on, honey,” he lowered his voice, “this is Chris we're talking about. There's nothing to worry over.”

 

Clearly not pleased – and probably feeling rather undermined – Chris's mother held up her hand and opened her mouth to reply, but decided against it at the last moment. She let her hand drop and turned to the boys.

 

“Chris, why don't you two go make some breakfast, all right?”

 

Chris was about to agree when he suddenly remembered Jonny's aversion to kitchens. He looked at Jonny apprehensively, but Jonny appeared rather confident and nodded his head. Without actually answering his mother, Chris stood up and brought Jonny into the kitchen.

 

“Jonny,” Chris began as he noticed a slight tremor in Jonny's hand while they were standing by the fridge, “if you don't want to be in here, I can tell my mum and-”

 

“No.” His voice shook as well, but he sounded certain of his decision. “No, I'm fine. I'll be fine.”

 

Chris said nothing in return, but he did reach out and grab Jonny's trembling hand. “So... I guess we should make breakfast, then. How does French toast sound to you?”

 

Jonny gave him a blank look. “Fr... what's that?”

 

Chris tilted his head and examined Jonny for a while. Then he smiled and proceeded to pull a carton of eggs out of the refrigerator.

 

Chris did most of the work preparing the food, since Jonny had no clue what to do. He didn't mind, though. Jonny helped by setting up the table with plates and utensils. Together they made a pretty decent team.

 

Every now and then they heard shouts from the other room. Even when his parents weren't yelling their words, Chris could still hear what they were saying to each other quite clearly. It wasn't as if he and Jonny were making enough noise in the kitchen to drown them out.

 

“Calm down. You're getting way too worked up-”

 

“I can't believe you.”

 

“All I'm saying is that Chris isn't the type of kid to be doing anything frequently enough for us to fret over it. Besides, did you see him? He's happy.”

 

“Stephen, I am thrilled that you're not overly angry about this, but this is actually even more ridiculous! I found them in bed together. Just because they are both boys does not mean that this can just blow over!”

 

“Does it bother you that your parents talk about you like that?” Chris jumped a bit at the sound of Jonny's voice. He quickly threw a glance over his shoulder, then returned his attention to the pan on the stove.

 

“It's true,” Chris replied. He pushed a piece of toast around the pan with the spatula. It didn't look quite ready to be flipped just yet.

 

“That doesn't mean it can't bother you.” Chris heard the sound of one of the chairs by the table moving ever so slightly across the floor. Then Jonny was beside him, leaning dangerously close. “We don't have to talk about it. I was just wondering.”

 

Chris looked at Jonny. “Why should I be bothered if it's true?” He bit his lip and looked down again. “Can you bring me one of those plates?” A few seconds later, Jonny was gone again.

 

In Jonny's brief absence, Chris tried to silently work out whether or not he actually did find his parents' comments about him distressing. He wasn't deflecting Jonny's question when he answered; Chris really did believe that if it was the truth, then he had no right to be upset. And his parents knew him well enough that anything they said about him would definitely be true.

 

He couldn't come to a definitive conclusion by the time Jonny returned to his side, though. He took the plate from Jonny, setting it on the counter beside the stove. Then he looked at Jonny and thought for another few seconds.

 

“It bothers me, but I don't want to let it.”

 

“Good for you. Besides, maybe it's not as true as you think it is.” Jonny playfully nudged Chris's arm. “You were the one who insisted I spend the night, anyway.”

 

“Yeah, but I wasn't the one who...”

 

Chris was fully prepared to finish his sentence, had it not been for the sudden arrival of his parents into the room. His father looked indifferent and his mother looked defeated; he could only guess how the argument had been settled.

 

“Who what?” Chris's mother asked, sounding livid. She looked as though she wasn't going to drop the subject, until she caught the look Stephen gave her. “Never mind.”

 

“We made French toast, mum,” Chris brightly told her, sliding the last piece onto a plate and bringing it over to the table. He placed the plate in the middle so that it could be reached from all sides. Chris took a seat, Jonny following and occupying the chair beside him, then went ahead and grabbed two slices for himself.

 

“It looks good, Chris,” his father speculated. “Maybe we should make you cook more often, eh?”

 

“Well,” Chris began with a shrug, “then you're going to get either a lot of French toast or a burned-down house.”

 

Stephen laughed heartily, though when Chris caught a glimpse of his mother he noticed her eyes were wide as if she were truly considering the consequences of forcing (or even letting, for that matter) Chris to prepare meals more often. Then he felt Jonny's hand gently and briefly squeeze his knee, and though he had not been aware of any negative emotions he may have had, he suddenly felt better.

 

He threw a quick smile at Jonny. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his father lean towards his mother and whisper, “See?” and his mother merely nodded.

 

It was remarkable, really, that the breakfast then went on without a single bitter remark or nasty glare. It was also worth noting that neither of Chris's parents realized that Jonny had worn Chris's clothes, a set of pajamas which Chris himself frequently wore around the house. Chris shrugged and was glad no one saw it.

 

When breakfast was finished, Chris and Jonny returned upstairs to change into regular clothes. His mother stood in the doorway of the living room as the two boys climbed the stairs, and he caught a glimpse of the disapproving look she threw their way. Though normally he hated to disappoint his parents or to even think that he had disappointed his parents, Chris felt nothing but happiness right now.

 

“Want to go for a walk around town?” Chris asked as he pulled a clean shirt over his head. After sliding his arms through the sleeves, he turned to look at Jonny, who was changing on the opposite side of the room.

 

“Yeah, sure.” Having already changed his clothes, Jonny sat down at the end of Chris’s bed. “It’s kind of weird to think this, but, uh… well, like, right now I’m glad in a way that my parents aren’t alive.”

 

“That is kind of weird,” Chris agreed. He watched Jonny closely, trying to analyze why Jonny might have said something like that at such a time. Jonny stared back at him, obviously trying to find a way to explain his thoughts.

 

“It makes it easier, you know, that I don’t have to worry about them finding out.” Chris pulled at the hem of his shirt to fix the fabric as he walked over to where Jonny sat. “And I don’t just mean about us, but, like… well, anyway, it’s just a bit easier this way, I think.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Chris stood awkwardly for a few moments before holding his hand out to Jonny. Jonny smiled as he took Chris's hand and stood up. They walked downstairs once more to find that Chris's mother stood in the exact position she was in when they left. Chris stopped in front of her, Jonny beside him.

 

“Jonny and I are going for a walk.”

 

Chris's mother said nothing for a while. She stared right into Chris's eyes with an almost blank expression. “Christopher,” she said, “I just hope you understand why what you did was wrong.”

 

Chris intended to reply, but before he was able to a shout broke out from the other room. “Get over it already!” Stephen yelled. Chris's mother turned around, fuming, and left the two boys. Chris took this as their cue to leave.

 

“Do they fight like that a lot?” Jonny asked as he and Chris stepped off of the porch stairs. Chris shook his head. “Sorry.”

 

Chris shrugged off the apology. If anything, he felt he was more at fault than Jonny for the whole situation. He laced his fingers with Jonny's and scrunched his nose. “Did your parents fight a lot?”

 

“I – uh, I don't really remember.” Jonny scratched the back of his neck with his free hand. “You know, since I was so young.”

 

Chris thought that Jonny sounded like he wasn't telling the truth, but he didn't want to press the issue any further. No matter how Jonny acted when they talked about his parents, Chris always felt like it was a touchy subject, and rightly so.

 

They walked around town for a while along their usual route. As they passed by one of the stores, they saw the shop owner arranging a sign just outside the door. Chris absentmindedly looked over, and he noticed that Jonny was ducking his head as if he were trying to hide. Chris chose not to say anything until they were past the store.

 

“Jonny, why were you trying to hide?” Jonny gave him a confused look, though Chris thought it looked a bit fake. “When we went past that store. You didn't want that guy to see you.”

 

“Oh, yeah. I don't think that guy likes me very much,” Jonny said.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Well, I might have lifted a few things while he wasn't looking and I think he's suspicious.” Chris drew his eyebrows together; Jonny said all of this with such a casual tone that Chris didn't quite understand. His parents had always taught him that stealing was wrong. Didn't Jonny think so, too?

 

Then again, Chris's parents had always told him that smoking was also bad, and Jonny did that. In fact, Jonny had done a lot of things in the (sometimes recent) past that would be considered perverse. Now that Chris thought about it, he did recall Jonny's answer weeks before when Chris asked where he had obtained the pink spray paint (which still laid bright against the brick across from Chris's house):

 

“Nicked it from one of the shops.”

 

So, maybe Jonny didn't think it was so wrong after all. But Chris was left with an unpleasant feeling in his stomach, even long after they finished their walk and returned to the alleyway.

 

Jonny had one of the books Chris had lent him in his lap, prepared to start reading. He glanced up at Chris first, though; Chris's odd mood must have been apparent, because Jonny looked at him with something like concern and asked, “What's wrong?”

 

“Well, I was just thinking,” Chris started, eyebrows squished, “about what you said earlier. That you stole things from that shop.”

 

Jonny winced, but said nothing. This convinced Chris that Jonny did think it was wrong – but that knowledge wasn't necessarily going to stop him from stealing. What would stop him? Chris felt certain that the unpleasant feeling he experienced could be washed away if he knew that Jonny would not repeat these actions in the future.

 

Jonny's eyes remained on Chris. Chris figured Jonny was waiting for him to continue his thoughts. He made a quick decision and took a deep breath. “Jonny, will you promise me something?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Chris felt a wave of happiness at the thought of Jonny willing to make him a promise without knowing what the promise was. He only hoped that Jonny would keep the promise.

 

“Promise me that you'll stop doing things like that,” he said.

 

“Promise that I'll stop stealing?” Jonny replied, a look of guilt across his visage.

 

Chris tilted his head. A promise to cease theft was a good start, but Chris couldn't help thinking back on the days when he and Jonny first met, before they even knew the other's name. It was weird now to think that this boy in front of him used to torment him and make him absolutely miserable. But it did happen, and Chris felt sure that some of Jonny's actions toward Chris back then had been influenced by his friends. Still, even though Jonny was more than nice to Chris now, it didn't exactly erase the experience. Chris didn't want anyone else to feel that way, the wretched way he had felt months ago – at least, not because of Jonny.

 

“Not just that,” Chris said. “Promise me you'll stop stealing and... mugging people and calling them names and all of that other stuff.”

 

Jonny gave him a sad look, as if he knew what Chris had been thinking and why he had asked him to make such a promise. His hand slid from underneath the book he held and grabbed onto Chris's hand.

 

“I promise.”

 

Chris squeezed his fingers around Jonny's palm and smiled. The discomfort he had felt melted away in an instant and he felt no need to dwell any longer on thoughts of Jonny's criminal past. He scooted a little closer to Jonny and the other boy began to read from the book.

 

 

[coldplayisawesome]

The Alley

 

Chapter Four -- Part Two

 

 

 

But Jonny's promise didn't last. For several weeks, he managed to do just fine without partaking in any criminal activity. At least, Chris was never aware of any wrongdoing Jonny may have done. He wholeheartedly believed that the green-eyed boy was capable of putting that behavior behind him and that he had dedicated himself to a life of goodness. After all, why would Jonny lie about something like that?

 

The boys spent their time as they always did: Jonny walked Chris to school in the morning; he did whatever it was he did while Chris was at school; then, once Chris came home, the two spent as much of the evening as possible together, reading or sometimes just talking about little things. Jonny seemed to like to hear Chris talk about his day, though Chris never thought any of it sounded interesting.

 

On weekends, they walked around town during the morning hours. Occasionally, Chris's mother would give him money, and they would stop at one of the restaurants in town for lunch. They went to the same restaurant each time, a small building filled with rather kind and friendly employees; even though the two boys had only eaten there a handful of times, it seemed as though the entire staff had remembered them. Chris thought maybe it was just in their job description.

 

The rest of the weekends were spent in the alley, where Chris continued to teach Jonny to read. Jonny had progressed so far with his reading skills that Chris decided to test him with papers that he had received in school, mostly useless fliers that had been handed to him while he walked to his classes. A lot of events were held at his school, and the people who organized the events seemed to love using brightly-colored pieces of paper as advertisements. On more than on occasion he thought about decoration the walls of his room with the fliers. It might look like he lived in a neon rainbow.

 

For the most part, Jonny could read everything that Chris gave him. He had little faith in himself, though, which saddened Chris. He knew that Jonny had achieved a lot in their time together, and that Jonny was even better at reading than some of the kids Chris went to school with, but Jonny couldn't see it for himself, so it made little difference. Chris tried to tell Jonny how well he was doing, but he had a feeling that Jonny just ignored it because Chris was biased.

 

Sometimes Jonny met Chris on campus after school. They would greet each other (trying to be as discreet as possible, for Jonny was still not a fan of having other people watch while he kissed his boyfriend), and then they would walk back to the alley, back to Chris's house.

 

Other days, Jonny did not meet Chris at the school. Most of the time, his absence was due to lateness – he liked to occasionally take naps in the afternoon, and every so often he would sleep for longer than planned – and on those days, Chris would run into him on the way back home.

 

Therefore, when Chris walked out of the building one Friday afternoon and scanned the crowd, he was not worried that he didn't see Jonny's face. He just continued walking through the groups of students, and then onto the sidewalk.

 

Of course, while he may not have been worried, he was disappointed. Not surprisingly, he liked it more when Jonny was there to walk home with him. On days like this, he kept his eyes forward, waiting for the moment when he would see Jonny walking down the road toward him. On this particular day, though, Chris made it more than halfway to his house without seeing Jonny – in fact, he had made it roughly three-quarters of the way without seeing him when he started to worry. He tried not to panic, though. He told himself that it was very likely Jonny had slept even later than usual, and may even still be asleep by the time he arrived at the alley. There was no real need to worry.

 

He thought he heard shouting in the distance. It sounded like someone barking orders at someone else. He tried to remember if there might have been any construction work in progress on any of the nearby streets. He knew how those builders liked to make themselves heard over the roaring of their machinery, and how they often forgot how to use a quieter tone when the machinery was off.

 

There was no such work being done, though, and as Chris drew closer to the alley, the shouting grew louder. He could only make out bits and pieces, certain words like, “money” and “wallet.” For some reason, his pulse quickened as he walked on, anxiety festering in the pit of his stomach. Something was very wrong.

 

He spotted Jonny's large jacket long before he even set foot in the alleyway. He felt only a tiny bit of relief at seeing that Jonny was perfectly fine; presently, Jonny stood in the middle of his two friends. They crowded around the side of the building. One of them was talking (not shouting – clearly, one of the others had done the shouting). Not one of the three noticed when Chris walked up behind them.

 

Chris did find, though, that at least one person saw him. There was a young man (though he looked older than all of them) caught in the half-circle created by the three boys and the building. Across his visage was a petrified expression, until he caught sight of Chris. The moment his eyes connected with Chris's, his face immediately fell in relief.

 

Jonny must have observed the change in the man's face; he slowly turned to see what the man was staring at. Chris glared at Jonny, who immediately realized that he was in trouble. Jonny gaped, and Chris figured that much like himself, Jonny suddenly found himself speechless. Chris thought for a while about saying something, but he eventually decided that silence would pierce deeper. He walked away.

 

As he approached the front porch of his house, he could sense Jonny stalking behind him. He wasn't sure if he wanted to give Jonny a chance to explain himself, but he knew he needed to at least sit down. All of his limbs were trembling and he felt like he could fall over, collapse into a pile on the ground, at any second.

 

He took a seat at the top of the porch stairs and found that his suspicion had been correct; Jonny now stood at the bottom of the steps, looking like he wanted to move further, but was waiting for something, perhaps an invitation. Chris continued to stare, wordlessly.

 

Jonny's red-headed friend called to him a few times, but the green-eyed boy ignored the shouts. He seemed to have found whatever it was he had looked for in Chris, and he began to cautiously advance. Chris tried not to react, other than to watch as Jonny climbed the steps and sat beside him. They exchanged blank expressions for a long while.

 

Chris finally cracked. “You promised me,” he said and his voice broke, just as fractured as he felt. “Jonny, you promised. And I believed you.”

 

Jonny gave an apologetic look, but said nothing. He merely nodded in response. Chris sighed.

 

“I don't know if I can forgive you.” Suddenly, he was overcome with a wave of tears, which quickly flooded his eyes and fought their way down his face. Jonny's expression became even more pained; he looked like he was fighting the urge to move, to comfort Chris in some way.

 

After a moment of thought, Jonny nodded again. “I can't make it up to you. Chris, I'm not as strong as you are.”

 

Chris laughed. It was short, and full of anger, but it was a laugh nonetheless. “I don't feel very strong right now.” Weakly, he pushed up his glasses, and then folded his arms across his stomach, his shoulders hunching a little in the process.

 

Jonny smirked momentarily, and then rolled his eyes. “You're... sensitive, yeah. But you don't let people walk all over you. You stand up for yourself when you need to. When you should.” Jonny fidgeted, shifting between scooting closer to Chris and scooting further away. Ultimately, he ended up in the same spot as before. “I can't handle peer pressure. I just give in.”

 

“You're better than that,” Chris told him, though really he had wanted to say, “You're better than them.” He moved his arms and clasped his hands in his lap. Jonny shrugged.

 

“Am I?” He glanced over at his friends, who seemed to have moved on without him. Then he turned his gaze to the bottom of the stairs. “All my life, I've been surrounded by this. Stealing and people getting beaten and mugged and everything else that I know isn't right. Even when my parents were alive... they weren't good people.”

 

“Well, you just said it yourself. You know it's not right.”

 

Jonny looked at him. “Doesn't that make it worse?”

 

Chris struggled to find a suitable response. He was still mad at Jonny, sure. He wanted Jonny to realize that he wasn't a bad person, that he could actually uphold a crime-free life, but Jonny seemed impossible to convince. When, seconds later, Chris felt another swell of oncoming tears, he stared at his hands and wished for a way to make everything better. He could think of nothing.

 

“I think we might be moving again,” he finally said in a low voice. Might as well bring out all of the bad news at once. He could feel Jonny's eyes on him, urging him to go on. “My parents have been sort of distant lately. At first I thought maybe they were both having affairs, but no. It's what they always do just before they tell me we have to leave. It's not such a surprise. We never stay anywhere for more than a few months.”

 

He heard Jonny exhale a heavy sigh. “I suppose it's for the best.” When Chris looked up at him questioningly, he continued, solemnly, “I only ever seem to hurt you.”

 

Chris shook his head, but he didn't have the strength to speak. Like before, he figured that actions spoke louder than words, anyway. He grabbed Jonny's hand, lacing their fingers together. Jonny held on tightly, and Chris noticed that he seemed to have completely forgotten about his friends.

 

“I have an idea,” Chris said. “I'm not sure if it will work, but I'll ask my parents tonight. And then I'll tell you tomorrow.”

 

“Don't forgive me.” Chris stared at Jonny for a while. He couldn't fully comprehend why Jonny would say this, yet some small part of him understood. He shook his head.

 

“I have to.”

 

“No, you don't.” Jonny spoke in a low voice. There was some hint of desperation in his words, but his tone was nothing short of commanding. “Like you said, I promised you. And I broke that promise. You can't forgive me. If anything, you should hate me.”

 

Chris knew exactly what Jonny wanted him to say – not that it had been difficult to guess – but he felt oddly compelled to speak nothing but the truth. “But I don't. I am still upset, but I know it isn't easy for you–”

 

“I'm sure it's not that easy for you, either, but you seem to be doing just fine.”

 

This bantering was going nowhere, Chris knew. He had no shot of convincing Jonny, and Jonny had no chance of changing Chris's mind either. He felt tired now, though not as hurt as he had before they had talked. He just felt worn out – nothing an afternoon of resting wouldn't fix.

 

Chris let go of Jonny's hand, instead wrapping his arms around the other boy. As his chin rested on Jonny's shoulders, he quietly said, “I'm going to go inside for the rest of the day. But I'll come see you tomorrow morning.”

 

Jonny's hands rested over Chris's shoulder blades, and Chris noticed that Jonny was shaking a little. “Chris...”

 

Somehow, in that one utterance, Jonny had managed to jam-pack a handful of emotions; Chris thought he heard a combination of fear, irritation, urgency, revulsion and relief. It seemed like an odd sequence, but each made sense in its own way. Chris just held on tighter, until Jonny's hands were steady once more and he decided it was time to actually do what he said he would and return to the indoors.

 

That night, as he and his parents sat in the living room after dinner, Chris brought up the subject of moving. His parents confirmed, though reluctantly, that his father was in fact being transferred once again, and that they would be leaving in two weeks.

 

Chris then asked if they could bring Jonny along as well. It was difficult, though, as Chris tried to convince his parents it was a good idea without actually giving away any of the details about Jonny's living situation. He feared that if they really knew about Jonny, they would try to call someone official, and then Jonny would definitely be taken away from him – maybe even sent to jail.

 

Therefore, Chris had no usable argument in response to his mother's question, “What about Jonny's parents? You think they wouldn't care about giving up their son like that?”

 

He sighed and sank into his seat. He couldn't win.

 

Later, while he lie in bed trying to sleep, he thought about asking Jonny to hide in the moving van. He could ride in there to the new house, and surely there would be somewhere nearby that he could stay, just as he had stayed in the alley. Chris's parents would never have to know.

 

But somehow that plan didn't seem feasible. Chris couldn't think of a way of getting Jonny into and out of the van without his parents noticing. And he couldn't ask Jonny to leave this place, the streets and friends he'd known for more than ten years, just to move to another place where he would have no real home. It didn't seem right, even if it meant they could stay together.

 

Chris opted not to tell Jonny about the failure of his plan when they talked the following morning. Though there seemed to be no options remaining, he still had a tiny bit of hope left that somehow he would figure a way to make it work; he would find a way to hold on to Jonny. Until then, he thought it unnecessary to inform Jonny of the situation.

 

Jonny never brought it up, either. He seemed just as overwrought as he had been the previous afternoon when Chris walked into the alley and greeted him, yet the conversation kept a safe distance from the topic. After a while, Chris started to forget, to feel as if none of the day before had even happened, which he was glad for.

 

Instead of reading, Jonny chose to practice writing. Chris dictated short sentences for him to copy down. They mostly consisted of four or five simple words, and hardly used any verbs other than “to be.” Chris didn't want to make it too difficult for Jonny, but he must have underestimated Jonny's writing abilities, because Jonny eventually started writing sentences of his own accord.

 

The first sentence Jonny wrote on his own said, “Chris is bad at making up things for me to write,” which was soon followed by several others:

 

“Even I could write better lines.”

 

“They must not teach much at that school of his.”

 

“If he stayed with me all day I could teach him more.”

 

“Really he is terrible at this.”

 

“But I still love him anyway.”

 

Chris tried to look offended, but the last line Jonny had written made him feel too giddy, and he couldn't actually do anything but bite down on his bottom lip in an attempt to hold back a cheesy grin.

 

“Well, fine, then I guess I'll just go home,” he said, his voice conveying the mock-upset far better than his expression. He even went as far as standing up, brushing off bits of dirt from his hands. He would have stepped forward, too, if it hadn't been for the pair of arms which encircled his legs moments later.

 

“No, don't leave,” Jonny lazily protested, “I take it back.”

 

Chris stared down at Jonny, pushing his glasses against the bridge of his nose to prevent them from sliding off and potentially hitting Jonny in the face. “Oh, yeah?”

 

Jonny glared right back at him with mischievous eyes. “All of it, but the last part.”

 

Chris fought once more to stifle a smile. Ultimately, he lost the battle; he smiled so widely in response that his nose scrunched up and he was able to let go of his glasses without fearing they would fall off. Jonny looked as if he had just witnessed a star-burst right in front of his eyes.

 

“I'd sit back down, but you've still got my legs,” he told Jonny, who seemed to snap out of the trance he was in. He retracted his arms and sat back against the wall as Chris reclaimed his seat. The pen and paper rested on the ground by Jonny's feet, but the green-eyed boy didn't move. He just kept his eyes on Chris, looking as though he was afraid of ruining the moment by performing even the tiniest action.

 

Since Jonny made no attempt to grab the paper, Chris leaned over and took it for himself. He quickly scrawled on the surface, “I could write sentences far more complicated than you ever could, dear Jonny, but I will forgive you, because I also love you. And I know how to use grammar properly as well, which is something that they taught me in, 'that school of [mine].' Well... 'those schools.'”

 

Chris winced a bit, as the thought reminded him that he would soon once again be thrust into the bustling halls of a school entirely new to him, one whose social circles and cliques were sure to have already been long established. He would have to try (and fail) again to make new friends, and his parents would no doubt be disappointed by his lack of success.

 

Normally, Chris wouldn't have minded so much. Over the years, he had grown used to being alone, had become accustomed to having no friends. If everything had stayed the same, he would have been fine with moving – but, of course, this time he made a friend. This time, he met someone who meant more to him than he ever thought possible. Sitting in the alley with Jonny presently and thinking about what he would have to leave behind almost made him wish that their relationship had just remained a mugger-muggee one.

 

Then it wouldn't hurt so much.

 

 

[Abracadabra]

You guys are insane!

[iPsy]

The Coldplay

PART SEVEN

 

 

 

 

Chris looked around the gigantic foyer, looking for any clues to finding his friend. As he walked across the marble floor, pushing smashed pieces of the Spanish woman aside with his foot as he did so. Guy followed.

 

"What happened, Chris?" Guy asked, putting his hand on Chris' shoulder as he stopped.

 

"I've messed up, I'm not cut out to be a superhero" Chris replied, shaking his head as he sat down on one of the crisp black leather sofas which looked like they had never even been sat on.

 

"Chris- you are the strongest man in the world" Guy said. "Well, after Superman"

 

"Oh, Guy" Chris laughed, his voice going all high and squeaky.

 

"Oh and the Incredible Hulk, there's a lean, green ass kicking machine!" Guy said. "I'm telling you, he don't take no shit!" Guy continued, waving his finger everywhere and anywhere in a ghetto fashion.

 

"Guy...you are so gay!" Chris replied, still laughing.

 

"You say that like it's a bad thing!" Guy answered, sternly, almost offended, like he was hiding some sort of secret.

 

"Of course there is nothing wrong with it, it's just you, you are the most handsome man in the world, you'd have no problem getting a girl!" Chris said, shyly.

 

"I think you are confusing me with Jonny" Guy blushed, there was silence between the two for several seconds.

 

"Guy" Chris said, nervously. "Why is it that you've never had a girlfriend!"

 

"It's because" Guy replied. "The reason is, because..."

 

Guy was interrupted by a loud crashing noise.

 

"What was that?" Chris exclaimed, jumping up. "It's from upstairs, let's go!" Chris said, running towards the stairs before stopping and looking back. "You coming, Guy?"

 

"Yeah" Guy said, sighing. "I'm coming". Chris started ascending up the stairs, and quietly, Guy mumbled; "Yeah I'm coming alright...coming out!" before following Chris up the stairs.

 

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

 

Jonny was on the floor, blood gushing from his head, an old man rushed from the scene, pushing Will to the floor in the process. Jonny was unconscious.

 

"Jonny, what happened?" Will asked, his heart racing as he crawled towards Jonny. "Jonny, speak to me!", Will demanded, ripping Jonny's costume, pushing down on his chest and trying to resuscitate him.

 

Chris ran towards Jonny and Will.

"What's going on?" Chris said. "What's wrong with Jonny?"

 

Tears flowing from his eyes, Will got up from the floor. "He's dead Chris."

 

"What?" Chris said, shaking his head in disbelief, Guy was now by Chris' side.

 

"He's dead Chris, and it's all your fault!" Will screamed.

 

 

 

[coldplayisawesome]

Happy birthday, second fanfic thread. :wacky:

 

 

The Water Boy

 

 

Jonny pushed the creaky door open. The building had been abandoned many, many years ago; before that, it had been some sort of factory, maybe a brewery. But it was so long ago that Jonny wasn't even alive when it was last in use, at least commercially.

 

He spent most of his time in this building. It was a quiet place where he could escape from all of the people in the world and just be with his own thoughts in peace. His favorite spot to sit was in a room located on the second floor. There was a small window in the room – the only window in the entire building, in fact – which Jonny loved to sit by and look out of.

 

The view from the window was almost nonexistent. The land around the building mostly looked like a barren wasteland, but it wasn't the land he liked to look at anyway. Since most of the grass had died a long time ago, the long stretch of dirt was perfect for the neighborhood kids to play in. During the spring, when the dirt was actually mud, the little kids would build mud castles and sculpt mud pies. During the summer, the older kids dominated the field and used the space to hold baseball games.

 

These games were held almost every afternoon, as long as the sun was shining – and sometimes even when it wasn't. As long as there were no hurricanes or tornadoes, those boys were out there playing baseball. The teams almost always consisted of the same people. Sometimes a few of the boys were on vacation with their families, leaving one team slightly shorter than the other, and in those cases they would switch a few people over just to even the numbers.

 

Since the teams were mostly the same each game, the boys all had certain positions to play. The boy who pitched for the team which called itself The Slings and Arrows of Outrageous Fortune (The Arrows for short) also doubled as the team's captain. He had bright, blue eyes, thick, curly, cinnamon-brown hair, and a seemingly vast pool of knowledge regarding every single subject one could possibly know about. The team name, which was actually part of a quote from the play Hamlet, had been his idea. From what Jonny had gathered during months of watching these boys play the year before, this boy's name was Chris.

 

Chris had grown a few inches since the previous summer. He now stood taller than most of the other boys on his team and looked lankier than ever before. The ripped jeans he wore just barely hid his bony ankles. He was still rather pale, but after a few weeks in the summer sun his skin would brown.

 

Jonny eagerly climbed the steps to the second floor. Today was the date of the first baseball game of the summer. A few of the boys were already in the field, but when Jonny checked before entering the building, Chris had yet to arrive. He wanted to make sure that he had his position by the window set before Chris showed up.

 

Most of the boys were in the field when Jonny finally sat down. He scanned the crowd and almost instantly noticed Chris – not that he was hard to notice, of course. Chris knelt down at the pitcher's mound, decked out in a plain white t-shirt which made him look a little tanner than he actually was. Jonny liked this shirt on Chris. It was loose enough around the neck that Chris's collarbone showed, but it was tight enough in the back that the fabric clung to his shoulder blades, which Jonny could clearly see now as Chris hunched over.

 

Jonny knew it was superficial to be so fascinated by someone who he only knew on a physical level (not, of course, the physical level his teenage hormones would have liked,but a physical level nonetheless). He knew it was creepy to sit in the comfort of the abandoned building every afternoon and watch the boys play baseball until the sun went down with absolutely no intention of ever interacting with the boys in a normal way. Yet, despite what he knew, Jonny continued to make his way up to the second floor and to the window every day that the games went on.

 

The sun shone particularly bright on this day. Most of the boys were drenched in sweat before the game even began. It felt hotter in the building, Jonny thought. He opened the window to let some cool air in, though it was not as much help as he would have liked.

 

After half an hour of the game, the boys decided it was time to take a much needed break for water. Some of the boys who lived nearby ran to their houses to fill buckets of water from their garden hoses. In the meantime, the other boys sat down and waited. Some tried to find shade, but with the lack of trees, the task was impossible to accomplish.

 

Chris circled the pitcher's mound for a while. Jonny watched him, keeping his eyes on Chris's shoulder blades, then his collarbone, then his shoulder blades again as the tall boy turned, then his collarbone...

 

Chris stopped walking. He wiped some sweat off his forehead. Jonny was just enjoying the view of Chris's shoulder blades through the white t-shirt when suddenly the t-shirt wasn't there anymore and the shoulder blades were bare, covered only by pale skin. Chris discarded his t-shirt in the dirt by the side of the building. He stretched, and Jonny held his breath as Chris's head tilted back, his gaze pointed at the general direction of the window.

 

No no no no no, Jonny thought to himself, no no, don't look up here. Don't look up here, and put your shirt back on; you're killing me! No no no no no...

 

But it was too late.

 

“Hey!” Chris called. Jonny tried to sink down, but Chris was clearly talking to him and him alone; there was no way that Chris hadn't seen him. “What are you doing up there?”

 

“Just... just watching,” Jonny replied. He peeked out to see that Chris was squinting up at him.

 

“You should come down and play with us.”

 

“No thanks, I quite like it up here.”

 

“Well, what are you doing up there? You're just sitting and watching us?”

 

Not quite, Jonny thought, sinking in his seat, no, I wouldn't use the word 'us,' no.

 

“Yes.” A long silence followed, during which he wondered if Chris hadn't just decided to leave without saying anything else. But then, several moments later:

 

“Is it because of the shade? Is it cooler up there?”

 

“I think it might be hotter, actually,” Jonny yelled out the window. Chris made a sort of laughing noise.

 

“What? Why are you up there if it's hotter, then?” he asked. Jonny groaned a little. This was not the way he wanted his first conversation with Chris to go. “Come down here. Wouldn't want you to get overheated.”

 

“I'm fine, really.”

 

“It's hot enough down here, I would know. If it's hotter up there, you'll no doubt pass out. Just come down and at least get some water, all right?”

 

That almost sounded like... concern... Jonny peered outside once more. Chris had his hand over his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun, though he still had to squint. Jonny meant to answer, but was prevented by the fact that he hadn't actually made up his mind yet.

 

“We have people bringing buckets 'round. Just get some water so you don't pass out. Please?”

 

Jonny stared for a while at Chris's exposed chest, and decided that if he was going to make a fool of himself (which would certainly happen no matter what), he may as well make a fool of himself while standing a few feet away from a shirtless Chris.

 

“I'll be down in a minute.”

 

Chris flashed Jonny a wide grin. He went to grab something off of the ground at his feet, but Jonny didn't see what the object was. He backed away from the window and raced out of the building.

 

Before he could even make it out of the door, he heard someone shout, “Catch!” and was promptly hit by some flying object. The person who had shouted started laughing, and as Jonny tried to recover from the attack, he saw a figure with curly hair reach down for the object. It was a baseball glove.

 

“Yeah, OK, I wouldn't want you on my team anyway,” Chris said with a smile. “You can't even catch.”

 

“I couldn't catch even if I had been expecting it.”

 

“It's OK. Come on.” One of Chris's large hands found its way to Jonny's back, and he pushed Jonny along.

 

Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, Jonny thought, it wouldn't be good if you die before you have a conversation that's not weird. Although, if you pass out, maybe Chris knows CPR...

 

“Do you know CPR?” Jonny asked. He cringed a little as Chris laughed.

 

“Actually, my mum's making me take a class next month.”

 

As they walked back to the group of boys, Jonny noticed that the other boys had returned with the buckets of water, and carried several water bottles in addition.

 

“Chris!” someone shouted, and a water bottle flew through the air in Chris's direction. Luckily, Chris was much better at catching than Jonny, though it did require removing his hand from Jonny's back. Chris opened the bottle hastily and took a long sip. Jonny watched as some of the water missed Chris's mouth and dribbled down his neck.

 

Then the bottle was being offered to Jonny, and Jonny could do nothing but stare at the bottle in shock.

 

His lips touched that, Jonny thought, I can't drink from that!

 

“I don't have any weird diseases, promise,” Chris said. “Come on, drink so you don't pass out. You look like you're going to collapse at any minute.”

 

Jonny glared at Chris with a look that said, You don't even know. But he realized what he would have to do, and so he accepted the bottle with a shaky hand. He tried to imitate Chris's move from before and took a large gulp. The water went down just fine (he even spilled less down himself than Chris had) until he really thought about what he was doing. His lips were touching the bottle which Chris's lips had also touched just moments before.

 

Jonny spluttered, pulling the bottle away and spewing a bunch of water onto the dirt. He coughed a few times and felt Chris's hand on his back again.

 

“OK, OK,” Chris said, patting Jonny's back a bit. “Well, we don't want you to drown, either.”

 

Jonny looked at Chris, who kept his hand planted between Jonny's shoulder blades. Another boy – most likely the boy who threw the bottle to Chris – approached the two.

 

“Who's this?” the boy asked, nodding in Jonny's direction. Jonny realized at this moment that Chris had no idea who he was. Chris would surely come to the same realization at any moment and consequently learn that Jonny was just some creepy kid who liked to watch them from the small window of the building.

 

“Erm,” Chris began, and he took his hand off of Jonny's back to point it at him. This is the end, Jonny thought, goodbye Chris, it was nice tasting your saliva... “Jonny, right?”

 

Jonny's spine stiffened. He had no idea how Chris could have stumbled upon this sort of information (though, of course, Chris was incredibly intelligent and seemed to know everything – except CPR), and briefly he wondered if he was the only creep around. The other boy looked at Jonny expectantly, and Jonny shook himself out of his stupor and nodded his head feebly.

 

“Jonny goes to school with us,” Chris told the other boy.

 

“Oh. Is he playing?”

 

“No,” Chris said with a bit of a laugh. Jonny figured he should have been insulted, but he was too busy admiring Chris's smile to care. "He can't even catch."

 

“Oh.”

 

The other boy seemed to have lost interest at this point and walked away. But only a minute later, he and several of the other boys returned with the buckets of water, some of which were now empty. A few of the boys set the buckets down by Jonny's feet.

 

“If you're not playing,” the boy who had spoken before said, “then you're water boy. Think you can handle that?”

 

“Of course he can,” Chris answered. Jonny watched him in awe. “As long as he doesn't try to drink it.”

 

None of the other boys laughed, they just walked away once more, but Chris turned to Jonny with a smile and his eye twitched in what Jonny supposed was a wink. Jonny continued to stare at him in awe, but Chris must have thought Jonny looked nervous.

 

“Hey,” Chris put his hand on Jonny's back for the third time and leaned in, “it's easier than catching, promise.”

 

Jonny gave him a smile as the skin under Chris's hand started to tingle and his heartbeat sped up. Chris rejoined his team moments later, leaving Jonny to admire his shoulder blades as he walked away.

 

One thing Jonny noticed during his time as the water-boy that afternoon was that watching Chris became much easier when Chris was only a few hundred yards away. The little details about him (his collarbone and shoulder blades, for instance) were far clearer from this distance. Jonny had to look at what was happening during the rest of the game from time to time to not appear too suspicious, but since the other boys' attentions were focused on the game anyway, he could stare at Chris for long increments of time without worry.

 

Then, as a bonus, every time the boys stopped for a break, Chris would walk over to grab a drink, and he would say something cute and smile at Jonny. It almost felt like a friendship forming. When the boys finished playing several hours later as the sky turned purple and Chris asked if Jonny would like to continue his profession for the rest of the summer, Jonny did not hesitate to say yes.

 

It would be a good summer, indeed.

 

 

[*MX*ColdplayObsess3d]

And because tomorrow is my one year anniversary with Coldplaying, expect another chapter tomorrow :D

 

 

 

 

 

Chris woke from his early morning car ride nap to find that he was at the outer limits of the city of London. Not that his sleep-ridden brain fully realized that right away, but when he saw the sign that said something to the effect of "Welcome to London," he was fully awake in seconds. London! he thought. Now this is where I want to live someday.

 

His thoughts wandering, Chris broke his reverie with a start as his father, Anthony Martin, parked the car in front of the store.

 

"Remember, Chris," Anthony said, "you have to meet me here at noon. It's nearly eight now, so you have plenty of time."

 

Chris grinned, a rather common expression for his face, and promised to be waiting at the benches in front of the stores at the exact stroke of noon. He got out of the car, and with a wave, his father drove away.

 

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

 

As he opened the door to the little shoe store, the first thing he noticed was that all along the back wall were Converse. His eyes widened involuntarily at the sight of all that he would have to choose from.

 

He also noticed someone else admiring the wall. They wore their own pair of Converse, and looked vaguely familiar. But he pushed any further thoughts of inquiry from his mind and continued with his mission.

 

*AN HOUR LATER*

 

He had decided that the first pair he would get would be the classic black hi-tops. But being the indecisive person he was, he could not for the life of him decide whether to buy the light green hi-tops or the dark blue slip-ons.

 

He took a look around. The only sales clerk in the room was helping someone else, and he didn't want to be rude and butt in.

 

He noticed someone else a little further down from him trying on something; It was the boy he'd seen earlier that looked kinda familiar. As Chris took a few steps in his direction, Chris realized why.

 

He was the new boy at Whitestone High. Chris had seen him multiple times in the hallway, mostly in the company of a teacher or guidance counselor.

 

He sat down on the bench next to the teen. The first thing Chris noticed about him was that something about him seemed a little out of place; but Chris couldn't quite place what was different.

 

"Hey, aren't you that new kid at Whitestone High School? I go there, my name's Chris, what's yours?"

 

The boy brought his green eyes up from where they had been staring at the floor to meet Chris's blue. "Jonny," he said. "Jonny Buckland."

 

And suddenly Chris realized what was so slightly off about the boy.

 

He wasn't a Brit like Chris. He was American.

 

[taameen**sparks**]

In Our Eyes Chapter 3

 

 

 

I passed by the store display windows all of them flashing by. I should really walk slower.. I stopped and slowly put on foot forward. Wait that seems too fast, I looked up and checked the area around me. My eyes wandered from the clear blue skies, to the plain and simple buildings and houses to the people hurrying around. They need to walk slower. I focused on a man running very fast in jeans and a blue t-shirt. Wait is that..? It might be, I should go see if it is… I ran as fast as I could in order to catch up with him. He was still some distance away from me. I was definitely sure it was him. Who else could it be? Running was not going to help me, I stopped and yelled “Chris!” The man turned around, it was Chris! He was stunned “Hey I never thought I’d see you again!” He said surprised.

“Well we both said we would see each other soon right?” I replied cheerfully. This was so amazing!

“So what are you up to?” I asked.

“Well I need to get some stuff four our trip, we’re going to be at tons of festivals this summer so we better be prepared.” He explained.

“Oh well what do you need to get?”

“Uh, let’s see,” He pulled out a crumbled piece of paper from his jean pocket. “I need to get a book for Jonny, some candy for the flight, and just some technical stuff for the roadies.” He stuffed the paper back in his pocket.

“It’s really great seeing you here, you know.” Chris confessed.

“Yeah it’s great seeing you too!” I beamed. “Mind if I tag along with you?”

“Not at all!” Chris replied. We headed out for the music store to get the equipment for the roadies. It was nice, the skies were clear the weather was cool, I was with Chris, the sweetest guy ever. He’s so cute with those gorgeous blue eyes and his short but fluffy hair… Wait was I having feelings for him? I don’t care, I really like him so I don’t see any problem with that.

“So, how have you been?” He asked.

“I’m fine.” I answered.

“Got any sleep lately?” Chris teased.

“Yeah.” I chuckled, remembering the incident. “Hey it’s the music store! Come on!” I exclaimed. I grabbed his hand and ran towards the store. I pushed the door and took Chris inside with me. The music store had maroon painted walls with guitars of all colors hanging from the walls. It was filled with books with shelves containing sheet music and racks for accessories for various instruments. I stood there staring off in to space while Chris walked to the cashier and started talking to the clerk. His voice was so nice and soothing.. it was such a pleasure hearing him speak… Hey! A voiced inside me belted, Get back to reality! Fine…Chris looked like he was almost done with this errand. He grabbed the equipment and walked over to me, “Alright shall we go to the bookstore?” Chris asked. I nodded and we left the music store “Are you nervous about the festivals?” I said.

“I don’t know, I mean I know should be nervous and I’m a little bit nervous but I’ll be more nervous once I’m there and there’s only 30 seconds until we perform, you know?” he confessed.

“I guess that makes sense you’re only nervous when it really matters…I’m sure you guys will do great!” I cheered trying to lighten up the mood.

“Thanks.” He smiled and then hugged me. I almost wanted to scream and jump up and down because Chris Martin, the most spectacular person ever was hugging me. ME! Ahh...Chris felt so warm… he pulled himself away from me. I had the biggest smile on my face and my cheeks were getting really tired from holding the weight of it. “Shall we get going?” I grinned. He nodded and started walking. I quickly massaged my cheeks when he wasn’t looking and then sprinted to catch up with him. We reached the bookstore and entered inside. “Okay Jonny wants me to get this book.” He held up the note right in front of me. I skimmed for the book title and quickly found it. “It should be upstairs.” Chris declared. We stepped on the escalator upstairs. I peered over the rail, looking down at everyone below me. I felt Chris poking my shoulder, “What?” He pointed at a kid in an orange polo and blue jeans on an escalator above who was staring at us with his jaw wide open like a crocodile. “What is he doing?” I broke into laughter. “I have no idea!” He snickered. “Hey we’re upstairs!” He grabbed my hand and we got off the escalator to search for the book. His hand was warm! Not that I was cold or anything, I just liked being so close to him. He was so down to earth and everything he did was just so cute. Chris let go of my hand and started racing down the aisles, searching for the book. I’d figured I should help and started looking around for it. I went through each aisle searching for the book. Where is it? “Chris I can’t find it!” I yelled. Absolute silence. Where did he go? I don’t want to be alone… “Chris? Where are you?” I said louder. I walked around not only searching for the book. Where could he be? After minutes of walking around, I finally found Chris staring about at a book. He was there the entire time? “Where were you? I called for you!” I said irritated. He turned to face me with his pure blue eyes. Every ounce of annoyance I had in my body suddenly faded, I felt horrible for yelling at him like that. “Oh my god, I didn’t hear you. I’m so sorry!” He cried. “It’s fine, now did you find the book?” He pulled out the book from behind. I sighed, our quest was finally over. We exited the bookstore and headed for the pharmacy to get some gum, which went by, pretty fast considering it was next door to the bookstore and we only need to get gum. We finished that errand and then we were at the corner of a street, ready to part our ways once again.

“Hey Taameen,” Chris spoke up.

“Yeah?”

“Well this might seem really sudden but I really like you and I want to get to know you more and I was wondering if you want to be my girlfriend?” He asked nervously. I felt butterflies in my stomach, he wanted me to be his girlfriend! Oh my god! Hold up, he’s waiting for an answer, say something!

“YES!” I blurted.

“Great! Oh it looks like I have to go, I’m really going to miss you.” He said.

“Aw I’m going to miss you so much, hope you guys will have some fun!” I cheered.

“Thanks.” Chris kissed my cheek and said goodbye. Chris..he kissed me.. I thought smiling at what had just happened. Chris Martin, someone who was talented, cute, hyper, funny, and down to earth kissed me. Okay, I REALLY need to get used to this.

 

 

 

In Our Eyes Chapter 4

 

 

I walked down the stairs carrying my luggage in my hand. We were all ready to head to the airport for the festival. I already called Taameen and said goodbye. Now where were the guys? I was getting really tired of holding my stuff. I put the luggage on the steps and did a quick search around my house to see if I missed anything. Everything was fine. Ding Dong! It’s about time! I raced to the door and opened it. There was Guy, Jonny, and Will all ready to go.

“Ready?” Jonny asked.

“Yeah it’s going to be great!” I grinned. I grabbed my luggage and headed outside to the car. I stowed away my luggage in the car trunk and jumped inside the car and quickly put on my seatbelt. I started tapping my feet excitedly, Oh my God this was going to be great!

“Chris calm down! You’re acting like a 5 year old high on a boatload of candy!” Will joked.

“Sorry but I really can’t help myself, this is going to be great I can feel it!” I said with excitement. It was true I really couldn’t help myself!

“Well it’s good to see you pumped like that but tone it down a little, alright?” Will asked.

“Fine..” I sighed. I slumped back in my seat trying to hide my excitement.

 

 

“Alright guys we have to go to Terminal A4.” Jonny reported. I searched around me for any sign of our terminal. “I’m so ready for the flight, I’ve got 165 dance/ poppy/happy songs to listen to on the plane!” Guy exclaimed.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I asked.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well whenever you listen dance tracks on a flight, you act really grumpy afterwards…”

“Oh yeah? Name one time that happened.”

“Let’s see. You did that when we were in France for the Viva tour.”

“I swear it won’t happen again!”

“Sure… Hey there’s our terminal, and it looks like we just made it, people are already boarding!” We hurried over and quickly boarded the flight.

 

 

“Ugh.. Can we go to the hotel now?” Guy complained.

“For the last time Guy, WE NEED TO GET OUR LUGGAGE!” Will fumed.

“Hey Guy what was that about not letting this happen again?” I nudged. He immediately shot me a very cold stare. Jonny found it amusing which made me relieved that someone found what I said funny. “Hey there’s the baggage claim place!” I yelled. What do you call that place? Whatever. We rushed over there, eager to get out of the airport as soon as possible. We waited patiently to see our luggage come out from the curtain thingy. (Except for Guy who was scowling the whole time. Figures.) Why don’t I know these things? Oh well. The luggage came out on the conveyor belt and we all patrolled each area of the belt. I was standing next to a pale man who had pitch-black greasy hair and was wearing a dark green shirt with a white patch that said “I give up” and black jeans. Hm.. Inspirational.

“Cool shirt.” I said quietly.

“Thanks.” He replied in a cool American accent. My eyes darted back to the belt and immediately found my suitcase and guitar!

“Excuse me, I need to get my luggage.” I said politely.

“Oh sure go for it man.” He backed away a few steps to give me some space.

“ Thank you.” I grabbed my luggage and lifted it off the belt and dropped on the floor.

“And there’s my stuff.” He grabbed his things and put it down on the floor.

“I better go catch up with my friends, bye!”

“Yeah I should go too, later!” He took his stuff and waved goodbye and left the scene. I grabbed mine and figured I should look for the others. I found the guys with their luggage waiting patiently for me.

“Got everything?” Will asked. I nodded and off in the distance I saw that man with some other guys that looked like his friends. One of them had bright red hair that looked greasy as well. He was wearing a black shirt with yellow stripes and skinny jeans. Another one had an afro and was wearing a black leather jacket and a white shirt with a spider on it. He was stand next to a guy who had brown hair with blond highlights and was wearing a sleeveless black shirt with white letters that read “Art is the weapon” and skinny jeans. They were all laughing and joking around. Suddenly the red haired one caught me staring and stared back at me! I quickly turned away and signaled that I seriously wanted to get to the hotel. Luckily Jonny knew what I wanted and called the cab to get us to the hotel. We reached our hotel and found our room totally empty. “Hey I’m going play a little bit, alright?” Guy laid his case on a nearby table and unlocked it and had a shocked look on his face. “What is it?” I demanded.

“Chris, this isn’t my bass.”

“What do you mean that’s not yours? It has to be.”

“I mean it’s not mine, come over here you need to see this.” He gestured me over to him. I walked over and saw a glitter covered bass with a black pick guard. ”Wait. Where are the graffiti and the lyrics and the swirlies?” I blurted totally confused, “WHERE IS IT? IT HAS TO BE HERE!!” I picked it up, flipping it over and over frantically.

“Calm down Chris, Jonny open your guitar case.” Will said. Jonny opened his guitar case and a Gibson Les Paul sat there. This wasn’t Jonny’s guitar and things were going downhill fast.

“ARGH NO GRAFFITI!!!!” I yelled.

“Chris, calm down. Now open your guitar case.” I opened up mine and inside was a really shiny white guitar with a black pick guard and…. a Mickey Mouse sticker? The weirdest thing about it was the fact that it was Mickey with his head off of his body and he was displaying the head with his hand.

“Okay…. I don’t think this is mine.” I shut the case and sat there confused. “Will what are we going to do?”

“Well let’s retrace our steps. We were all at different places at the baggage claim. Jonny where were you?” Will said.

“ Hmm.. I was near the beginning of the conveyor belt. I remember standing next to someone with an afro-“

“Wait. Did he have a black leather jacket and a shirt with a spider on it?” I asked.

“Yeah he did!”

“Okay, Will who were you standing next to?” I could feel every inch of my body getting chills. This was like a mystery, and I was in detective mode ready to analyze every single clue in my path.

“I was just standing next to a woman and her son who would not stop whining about how much he really wanted a cookie. It was so annoying!” Will complained. So much for detective mode… “Guy, who were you standing next to?” I asked, desperately hoping for a rebound.

“Some guy with brown hair and blond highlights.” Guy said. Yes, we were finally getting somewhere. “What was he wearing?” I asked. Guy squinted and raised an eyebrow thinking hard about the matter at hand. “A shirt that said…Art is the weapon? Why?”

“Well I was next to this guy with greasy black hair and we were talking for a little bit and then I left and when we were outside the airport I saw him with what looked like his friends and apparently, you and Jonny saw them.” I breathed.

“Okay, so now what?”

“Um I don’t know.”

“Did ask what his name was?”

“No.” I said silently.

“Jonny cancel the gig. Since we don’t have our instruments we can’t play.”

“I don’t think so, I typed in Art is The Weapon and look what I found.” He handed a laptop over to us. We watched a YouTube video of a DJ ranting into a mic and a roller skater entering graffiti covered hideout that turned out to be a diner. In the hideout were the guys at the airport! They were putting on leather jackets, storing brightly colored guns in pockets, and putting on sunglasses. After getting ready they left the diner and drove a rather beaten up car. There was footage spliced in of explosions, laser gun fighting, the DJ being caught by someone wearing white and had a black and white mask on, and a sinister looking bald man grabbing the red head’s face. The video ended and Guy spoke up, “What the hell was that?”

“I liked it, it would be nice to see it as a movie.” Jonny said grinning. He turned to see me with a stunned expression on my face. My eyes were wide open, and my mouth was gaping. “Chris?” Will started shaking me to get out of my shock. I pulled myself together and managed to get words out of my mouth. “Those were the guys. Those were the guys I saw at the airport.”

“So My Chemical Romance has our stuff?” Will asked.

“Yep.” I said blankly. How are we supposed to get it back? We knew who had our luggage but a new roadblock just stood in our way and nothing could make it budge.

“How are we going to get our stuff back?” I could feel sweat dripping from my forehead.

“Call the airport?” Guy raised an eyebrow.

“Would they be able to give some info?”

“Maybe they will. Maybe they won’t.”

“Maybe isn’t good enough for me right now!” I snapped. Anger started bubbling inside of me practically drowning the calm, cool, and collected part of me that knew what to do in times like this.

“You didn’t have to yell.” Guy muttered and got up and left the room. Great. My anger was definitely not helping right now. I need to fix this, we’ve already lost our luggage and now Guy probably hates me…again.

“Can someone please call the airport?” I let out a deep sigh. Jonny reached for the telephone and called the airport. While he was calling the airport, I figured I should apologize to Guy. I searched around the rooms until I found Guy with the glittery bass.

“I see you are enjoying the bass.” Guy started picking at the strings making the bass produce raw sounds.

“I like it, maybe because it’s so shiny but I really like it. I’d like to talk to its owner about it. Hey can I just take this onstage?” He looked up at me and beamed like a little brother.

“Maybe if you ask the owner about it you might be able to. Guy, I know I’ve said a million times in the past but I’m incredibly sorry for how I acted. It’s festival time and I just don’t want anything going wrong although I’m sure we’re going to mess up sometime soon. And in the future if I ever say anything stupid, I really mean I think you’re amazing.” I searched for any sign of reaction on his face. He started chuckling. I sighed in relief. “Alright. I must be filled with amazing.” Guy continued chuckling and strumming.

“Hey I said in the future.”

“ And I know it’ll happen in the future.”

“It might, now could you please come join us?”

“Sure.” Guy grabbed the sparkly bass and walked with me to join the others. Jonny was still on the phone but Will looked extremely excited.

“What’s going on?” I inquired, hoping Will could catch us up.

“So the airport is getting the info on where My Chemical Romance is.” Will reported. Jonny paced around the room speaking into the phone, “So that’s all you know? All right thank you. Goodbye.”

“What did they say?”

“Well they gave me the hotel address they’re at.”

“Great! Let’s go!”

 

We arrived at the hotel and while Guy and Will were gawking at all the cool things this place had and Jonny was lying on the couch trying to sleep, I figured I’d pitch in and ask where was My Chemical Romance. I calmly walked to the front desk and cleared my throat. “Excuse me, my friends and I are here to visit one of the guests staying here. “ A woman with long straight brown hair looked up at me, and said, “Whom are you visiting?”

“My Chemical Romance?”

“Oh they’re in room 367, just take the elevator here to the third floor and there should be some directions around there.” I quickly thanked her and got everyone together and we headed straight for the elevators. I pushed the button to the third floor and the elevator closed the doors and went up. “You guys have the instruments?” Jonny weakly held up the cases and nodded. “Um need some help?”

“YES PLEASE!” Jonny gasped. I lightened his load and grabbed a guitar case. We reached the third floor and left the elevator. “So 367 is…that way.” Guy pointed to the right. We kept walking until we found a green door with a plaque that said 367 and a card reader. “You guys ready?” I grinned. Guy looked rather anxious while Jonny and Will were smiling. I knocked on the door twice waiting for an answer. Silence. “Excuse me, we have your instruments.” Jonny added. Still more silence. “We’re coming!” A voice yelled from inside the room. “Michael James Way, you leave that toaster alone!” The voice said. The door swung open to reveal the same red headed pale skinned man from the airport. “Hello, so you guys have our instruments right?” He asked. “Yes, do you mind if we come in?” Jonny asked. “This is getting rather heavy.”

“Yeah sure, I’m Gerard by the way. What are your names?” We all entered inside a rather messy room covered in clothes, suitcases, and shoes.

“I’m Jonny Buckland,” He put the cases on a couch and breathed a sigh of relief. “Well I’m Chris Martin,” I gave a small wave.

“I’m Will Champion.” Will greeted.

“ I’m Guy Berryman.” Guy said shyly.

“And we’re Coldplay.” We said in unison.

“Cool well this guy here-“ He pointed to a guy reading a magazine who had white hair and brown sideburns “Is my brother Mikey Way. He’s our bassist.” Mikey looked up from his reading and said hi. “And over there is our guitarist Ray,” Ray the curly haired guy raised his hand. “And last but not least, our rhythm guitarist Frank!” Gerard pointed at Frank, greasy black haired guy I met at the baggage claim. “Hey! You’re that guy I met at the airport!” He said excitedly and pointed at me.

“Yeah I’m the guy.” I smiled. “So do you guys want your instruments or what?” Will yelled from a distance.

“Yeah we do!” Gerard replied back. He turned to face me and spoke, “Not that your gear isn’t great, I mean the graffiti looks awesome!” Will grabbed the cases, carefully checked that they were not ours and one by one handed it off to Gerard. Gerard returned the favor with our instruments and handed it off to Will.

“Thanks, and I think Guy wanted to say something about Mikey’s bass, didn’t you Guy?” I turned around and looked at Guy.

“What?”

“What did you say about Mikey’s bass?”

“Oh. Well I think it’s really cool and maybe if you’re okay with it I could bring it onstage?” He looked at Mikey.

“Thanks and maybe you can. Actually wouldn’t it be really cool if we all perform onstage all together?”

“Yeah! That would be so awesome!” Guy beamed. There was something about this crazy meeting and what Mikey said about all of us playing together one day seemed like when we just started the band and playing together with another band just sounded like fun. Fun in the sense that even though there’s a giant gap between Coldplay and My Chemical Romance, we still do the same thing which is make music for everyone to enjoy and share what music has to offer to people.

 

 

[iPsy]

The Coldplay

PART EIGHT

 

 

 

 

Will ran towards Chris, pushing him to the floor, punching him repeatedly in the face. Chris was not in pain, Will didn't have a good punch. With Chris' super power, he could easily punch Will back...but he didn't want to. Will was right. Jonny was dead and it was all his fault. If Chris didn't kill that woman downstairs, Jonny would have saved the day and they all would probably be back at The Bakery having a beer with Jonny and Phil safe and sound.

 

Chris, calmly and slowly moved Will away.

"I'm sorry Will" Chris said calmly. "I'm so sorry, Will"

 

"Well saying sorry isn't going to bring him back now, is it Chris?" Will exclaimed. Chris had never seen Will this upset. Chris was deeply upset but was trying not to show too much emotion, for the sake of the others.

 

"No, it's not" Chris said, shaking his head. "But, if we keep on moving and get Phil back then maybe there is a way to bring Jonny back?"

 

"But that's impossible" Will snarled, as he comforted Guy.

 

"A few days ago" Chris said, walking over to Will. "A few days ago, you would have said that all of this was impossible. But all this is still real, we all have super powers! This is all real!"

 

"And so is Jonny's death!" Guy butted in. "Chris, you've really done it, this is unforgivable!"

 

"Look, just trust me, I've got a really good feeling that...everything is going to be okay!" Chris smiled. "Now, are you going to come with me?"

 

"Why would we do that, our friend is on the floor- dead" Guy replied. "Have you no heart?"

 

"Of course I do!" Chris replied, shocked at Guy's accusation. "And that's why I'm going to do something about it. Look, you can either stay there, looking at a dead man and making yourselves more upset or you could come with me?" Chris continued, holding out his hand. "What do you say, Guy?"

 

"No" Guy replied, more serious than he had been in his whole life.

 

"But...five minutes ago, we were having a really meaningful chat, we were close!" Chris said, hurt.

 

"A lot can happen in five minutes!" Guy replied. "Now just go!"

 

"Fine, I'll go!" Chris replied, looking at his three friends individually before taking a deep breath and ascending to the next floor.

 

Will and Guy looked as Chris disappeared out of view and both of them, although they didn't want to admit it, had some faith in Chris.

 

"So...what was this meaningful conversation you had?" Will asked, standing away from Jonny's body as he wiped away more than a few tears, Guy followed suit, taking a deep breath.

 

"I finally realized and came to terms with the fact that I am in love with Chris" Guy replied, calmly with a smile on his face like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. Which it had.

 

 

 

[coldplayer#16]

Double Date - Part 8

by ~J-M-P-16

 

 

 

I had thoughts about why Mae would pick up the tab for us, but they were cut off by Jon shoving the glass toward me after his second sip, "Try this, man."

 

"Is it bad or something?" I asked.

 

"Just try it!"

 

"Alright," I said, taking a sip, and I was amazed. It was actually really good!

 

"What root beer do you think they use?" Jonny pondered, "Homemade maybe?"

 

"Think again, Peachfuzz," I heard from the other end of the room, "IBC."

 

"What are you doing down here, aren't you supposed to be with the kids?" I asked.

 

"Jon can deal with his cousins for once, I deal with them every other day pretty much."

 

"What an 'IBC'?" Jonny asked.

 

"IBC Root Beer," Mae said, "And I told J to do that you know."

 

"What so special about it?" I asked.

 

"Well, I always preferred it over other root beers, so have other people, so I thought that you guys might like it better. It was just a treat, that's all."

 

"As was picking up the bill for us?"

 

"Yep, why? Can't a girl be nice?" Mae had a smirk on her face now, sliding her jacket over her shoulders.

 

"I know that look, Wadsworth, what's running through that mind of yours?"

 

Mae laughed and just shook her head, "Oh, wow."

 

"What?" Jonny asked, "Chris, what's going on?"

 

"Relax, I didn't think you guys had any cash on you and I felt bad for just attacking you guys with snowballs earlier, so picking up the tab was just a nice thing, I can't be nice?"

 

"Well, no, but I mean-" I stammered, not being able to form a full sentence.

 

"I'm sorry for being nice, sheesh." Mae had her jacket on now and had her hand on the door.

 

"I thought you hated me," I said.

 

"Hated you, hardly," Mae said, pushing the door open, and then we heard something we didn't want to:

 

"MOVE IT YOU RED HEADED BITCH!!" It was a sharp, Southern accent, and then there was a sound of someone falling to the floor. Forest, of course, pushing Mae to the floor.

 

"What the hell, Forest!" Mae yelled, "What are you doing here?!"

 

"Shut up!" Forest spat, turning to our table, "C'mere, pretty boy, face me like a man!"

 

"MURPHY!" Mae yelled, hoping for the ghost, but got the living, some-odd great-grandson instead.

 

"What's going o- . . . Forest, can I help you?"

 

"Not you I want, J," Forest said, "I'm here for that pansy and his boyfriend!"

 

"You leave them alone, it's my aunt's store and I want you out, NOW!"

 

"You ain't the boss of me!"

 

"Chris!" Jonny said, "Fight him!"

 

"No, just wait," I said.

 

"Why wait?!"

 

"Just trust me!" I said.

 

"Forest, get out of here!" the other Jon snapped.

 

"Not until I get a soild, fair fight from him!" Forest yelled.

 

"Look, I don't know what you did to him, but no one messes with my girlfriend and you aren't going to lay a finger on those two!"

 

Murphy might not have shown up, but he knew to be there and what to do, Jon and I became adults again, thank God.

 

"No, Jon, this is my fight," I said, standing up, "and he asked me to come out and fight like a man, so I might as well, right?" I turned to the two boys and the other Jon's jaw dropped.

 

"B-b-b-b-but, you-you were just," he stammered, shaking.

 

"I know, I know, thank your some-odd great grandpa," I said, turning my attention to Forest, "So, you wanna fight? Let take this outside!" I said, actually willing to fight this punk.

 

"Oh, this is gon be easy!" Forset laughed.

 

"What do you mean?" I asked.

 

"You ain't just no pansy, you're the singer for the GAYEST and worst band alive!" he laughed.

 

I was about ready to swing another punch at him but I saw another punch strike him first, right in the temple, "GET OUT OF HERE!" It was Mae who'd swung the punch, but Forest only flinched.

 

"You little bitch!" he cursed, hitting Mae square in the gut. She flew back, choking on air, her head flying hard against the wall. She was gasping for air, the wind knocked out of her, and it was an awful sight.

 

I turned to the other Jon, seeing he was standing there, shocked. I saw his look of surprise change to one I'd thought I'd never see on his face, rage. Pure rage.

 

Forest stood in triumph, knowing he'd won, but the other Jon's fist rose up and swung hard down the southerner's jaw, his other fist swinging hard into his gut, mercilessly swinging hit after hit into the other boy.

 

Once the other Jon knew Forest wouldn't try anything funny, he grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to the door, "You miserable, inconsiderate, pathetic excuse for a human being!" he roared, swinging the door open, "I see your face in this shop again, I will make sure it's more than just me taking you out!" With that, the other Jon flung Forest out of the shop, having him land in a snow bank by the side walk, "STAY AWAY FROM MY GIRLFRIEND, YOU BASTARD!!!" Forest scowled and got to his feet staring Jon down, but he brushed himself off, knowing he was beat. The other Jon seemed to have relaxed a bit, shutting the door and locking it afterward.

 

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he said, "I'm never like that, you know?"

 

"Yeah, but uh, how's about a hand here mate!" Jonny said, meaning Mae. I was standing there like an idiot, mouth open slightly and wide eyed. Jonny, being smart, went over to keep Mae from getting anymore hurt.

 

"Holy shit!" the other Jon cursed, running over to Mae and trying to see if she was okay. Her gasping had slowed down, but her fit hadn't totally ceased. I could see concern in the other Jon's eyes now, a total 360 from what had happened moments before, but Mrs. Cue finally came rushing down.

 

"What happened down here?!" she asked, but she saw three teenage boys trying to make sure the 'rich kid' was okay. I shouldn't be calling Mae that, but she is! I saw her finally calm down enough to get up, she was struggling, but the other Jon had her arm around his shoulders, acting as a balance for her. He led her upstairs and Mrs. Cue was busy on the phone, calling who I hoped was Mr. Wadsworth.

 

"So, does this mean no root beer float?" Jonny asked.

 

[coldplayisawesome]

oops, i almost forgot that today's Sunday. :P

 

The Alley

 

Chapter Five

 

 

Chris talked as he and Jonny journeyed to the alleyway from the school. He had been talking for most of the trip, but Jonny honestly couldn't pay attention to a word he said. Sure, Jonny listened, but he focused more on the sound of Chris's voice rather than the meaning of his words. Besides, Chris most likely spoke only about his day at school, and rarely did those stories ever differ.

 

Jonny felt like he had a hard time concentrating on a lot of things lately – ever since the fight he and Chris had. He was acutely aware of the fact that Chris would be moving within a relatively short amount of time. Chris had never specified a date, but it had already been an entire week, and Jonny didn't think that much time remained.

 

He tried to enjoy his time left with Chris as much as possible, despite his wandering mind. But no matter what, he couldn't help thinking – as selfish as it may have sounded – of just how much his life sucked. Though he had not made many acquaintances in his lifetime, those people he had known had all abandoned him at one point. First his parents, then his friends, and soon Chris would join the ranks among those who had left Jonny to himself.

 

Jonny almost hated Chris at the moment – or, at least, he wanted to. Hating Chris would make it so much easier to let him go. Jonny had warned himself, had seen the danger long ago, way back when Chris had spent the day at his aunt's house. Jonny realized then that he was becoming too attached to Chris, and that he needed to stop it. But it was already too late at that point. He had already fallen in love.

 

Although Jonny had been through this sort of thing before, he felt worse now than he ever had, and not because he was in love with Chris (though he was). With his parents and his friends, he had never received any sort of explanation, any sort of reason for their sudden disappearances. To make up for the lack, he blamed himself, despite what the truth may have actually been. It was the only way for him to make sense of what had happened.

 

But such was not the case with Chris. Jonny had done wrong plenty of times in the past few months. He had made greater mistakes than he ever could have imagined. Following this logic, he should have been the reason for Chris's departure. His terrible actions should have been the ones pushing Chris away, but, oddly, they weren't. For all the errors he had made, Chris still loved Jonny, still wanted to be with him. Something else was ripping Chris away; a greater force which neither of them could control. Somehow, that made it even worse. Jonny felt lost and completely hopeless.

 

Suddenly, Chris stopped talking. Jonny soon realized that it was because they had reached Chris's house. They now stood facing each other at the bottom of the porch steps, and Jonny forced himself back to reality as Chris opened his mouth to speak once more.

 

“I'll be right back. And I have something for you...” Jonny might have made a suggestive comment, were it not for the nervous look on Chris's face. Instead, he just gave the other boy a quizzical look. “Just wait here, OK?”

 

Jonny nodded; what else would he do? While he waited, he sat on the bottommost step and dwelt further on his misfortunes. He wanted to stop feeling so miserable, but he just couldn't shut his mind down.

 

It was only a few minutes before Chris returned. Chris made his way down the stairs and went to sit down as Jonny stood up. Jonny caught sight of Chris changing his movement mid-step and consequently trying to keep his balance as he stepped on the ground in front of Jonny. He tried not to laugh, even though Chris's awkwardness never ceased to amuse him.

 

As he suppressed laughter, Jonny noticed that Chris held a large manila envelope in his arms. Jonny could feel those giant blue eyes boring through him. He was suddenly overcome by what seemed to be the sadness which poured out of every one of Chris's orifices. For a while, they stayed completely silent, only conversing with their eyes.

 

Then, as if he abruptly remembered the envelope, Chris jolted and offered the pocket to Jonny. Cautiously, Jonny pulled it away. He stared down at the flap, both curious and afraid to know what it held inside. Chris didn't seem like he would start talking until Jonny opened the package, so that's exactly what the green-eyed boy did. He slipped his hand inside and felt a bundle of papers, but they felt different from loose-leaf and even computer paper. They felt, as odd as it may have sounded, glossy.

 

Sure enough, Jonny removed the papers completely to find that they were bound together to form a comic book. He had never seen this particular issue before, but he recognized the characters and the title on the front. He felt more like he held a bar of gold in his hands than just a collection of paper.

 

Jonny looked up at Chris, who must have known exactly what Jonny was thinking, because he said, “It's my favorite one. But I want you to have it... I don't want to leave without you having something to remember me by. Even if you won't forget me without it.”

 

Jonny gazed at the book again. He knew it was ridiculous that something like this could render him speechless, but he also knew that it meant so much more than what appeared on the surface. Chris was giving Jonny a piece of himself, essentially, and Jonny searched his brain trying to think of something to give him in return.

 

He held his hand up to Chris and muttered, “Wait.” Chris nodded. Jonny stuffed the comic book into the envelope and ran to the alley. From under one of the discarded bags in the corner he removed a thin book and set the package from Chris into its place. Then he ran back.

 

Chris looked just as weighed down as Jonny had when he had been given the book. In fact, he looked even worse than Jonny had felt. The book was the same one Jonny had started teaching himself to read from. As Chris stared at the cover, Jonny could see tears forming in his eyes. His chest ached at the sight.

 

“Jonny,” Chris began in a broken voice. The water started dripping down his cheeks; one drop actually managed to splash onto the book's cover. Chris held the book against his stomach and looked up at Jonny.

 

“Please don't cry,” Jonny said, but he too sounded feeble. He watched as Chris closed his eyes, perhaps in an attempt to cut off the flow of tears. When he opened his eyes again, he set the book down on the porch steps and stood as close to Jonny as possible without actually touching him.

 

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, then he threw himself forward and buried his head in Jonny's shoulder. Jonny put his arms around Chris's back.

 

“For what?”

 

“I couldn't tell you before,” Chris said, though his voice was muffled by both Jonny's shoulder and his own crying. “We're leaving tomorrow. I should have told you earlier, but I just – I couldn't.”

 

Jonny tightened his grip. “It's OK,” he quietly said, and he thought it was true. He thought it was probably better that he hadn't known sooner. Knowing might have only made him feel even worse, if possible.

 

“I knew I should have told you, but it was like every time I tried, I couldn't say it.”

 

“Chris, it's OK.” He shoved his nose into Chris's hair for a few brief moments; then he brought his hand up to cup the side of Chris's face. When Chris looked up at him, he brought their lips together. He could taste the saltiness of the tears which had fallen past Chris's mouth and Chris's braces scraped against his teeth as they usually did. It occurred to him that this would be one of the last times it would happen.

 

As they broke apart, Jonny noticed that Chris looked a little bit cheerier. He cheeks had started to dry and the corners of his lips turned upward ever so slightly. His glasses slid halfway down his nose, so Jonny pushed them up. Chris smiled for real this time, and shrugged his shoulders.

 

“At least I don't have any homework to do tonight,” he said. Jonny smiled, too. “We can spend the whole afternoon together. And the evening, and maybe some of the night. But I'm not sure how early we're leaving. I guess it depends on how long it takes to load the van.”

 

“Well, then.” Jonny's smile faltered just a bit. He swallowed in an attempt to coat his dry throat. “Let's make the most of the time we have left, right?”

 

Chris nodded, and they kissed again. They headed to the alley, where they sat and talked for a few hours. After Chris came back from eating dinner, they walked around town.

 

As the evening went on, Jonny felt an increasing sense of anxiety crushing him from the inside. He managed to keep his thoughts away from the fact that within twenty-four hours he would be completely alone, but the feeling still consumed him. He was sure that Chris felt it, too, and he could see the sadness in the other boy's eyes, even if Chris had done a great job of hiding it.

 

They laughed as often as they could, mostly at rather inappropriate times. Chris laughed whenever Jonny made a (generally cruel) comment about one of their fellow pedestrians, an act which Jonny felt certain Chris would not have done under any other circumstances. Then again, Jonny probably wouldn't have made the comments under different circumstances, either.

 

When they saw a tiny mouse scamper down the road in an attempt to escape the claws of a tawny cat, they laughed. When they saw a little girl crying over a glob of ice cream she had dropped on the ground, they laughed. When the little girl's mother glared at them as if they were laughing at a funeral, they laughed.

 

They spent another hour sitting on Chris's porch steps, scanning the wood for random patterns and pictures. Mostly they just found a bunch of lines, but in searching they were able to continue laughing. Chris took his glasses off several times to see if any of the lines formed shapes when blurred together, but he was just as unsuccessful as he had been with his glasses on.

 

The last time Chris removed his glasses and stared at the porch, Jonny took the opportunity to snatch the frames and slide them onto his own face. It was strange to look around with them on; it looked like some sort of bubble surrounded the entire world, and Jonny actually felt a little dizzy after a few seconds.

 

“Wow, you are really blind,” he said. He lifted his hand in front of his eyes, and realized almost instantly that it was not a good idea. He decided that he would take the glasses off in order to prevent himself from vomiting, but before he was able to, he and Chris were interrupted by the front door opening.

 

Chris's mother stepped onto the porch, but immediately froze. “Oh, there you are.” Chris turned to face his mother, though Jonny felt certain that she would be nothing more than a colorful blob in Chris's vision, which is also how she appeared to Jonny. “Chris, it's eleven o'clock.”

 

She said nothing else, but Chris didn't need to hear more. And, based on Chris's response of, “Oh,” Jonny guessed the rest of the conversation as well.

 

Chris turned back to Jonny, squinting a little, and he pulled the glasses off of Jonny's face. Jonny felt a little relieved, since his vision had now returned to normal and he felt much less dizzy. Glasses still in hand, Chris leaned forward and kissed Jonny.

 

Chris slipped the frames on again and said, in a quiet voice, “I'll see you in the morning.”

 

For a moment, Jonny felt the squeeze of anxiety again; it was so bad that he almost couldn't breath. It didn't last long, though, so Jonny was able to cough a bit and choke out, “Yeah. In the morning.”

 

Chris smiled sadly, leaned forward to wraps his arms around Jonny, and in the embrace they kissed another time. Jonny wasn't sure if Chris's mother had her eyes on them, but he didn't care, either. He tried to enjoy the moment without thinking about how soon it would be over – how soon everything would be over.

 

He thought about sitting on the porch for a while after Chris went inside, but he decided that it might seem a little creepy. Instead, he stood up and trudged toward the alley. He figured he may as well try to get some sleep, though he knew that he would be unsuccessful and that any sleep he did get would be no help. He felt so tired.

 

The night hours dragged on. It felt like a century before the sun even rose again. Then it was a while before he saw a figure walking down the alley, rushing toward him.

 

He sat up as Chris approached, though he stopped himself from standing when he noticed that Chris was in the process of sitting beside him. After Chris sat, he rested his head on Jonny's shoulder. Jonny could tell without even looking at Chris that the other boy had gotten just as much sleep as he had.

 

“What time is it?” Jonny asked, mostly just to break the silence.

 

“About six-thirty,” Chris answered, his voice quiet and his words slurred from fatigue. “My parents are still sleeping, but I couldn't, so I figured I would come out here and see if you were awake, too. Which you are.”

 

Chris lifted his head at this point. His eyelids were drooping, and Jonny imagined that his probably were as well. “I've been awake since yesterday morning.”

 

Chris laughed lightly. “Me too.” Jonny let his head drop forward so that their foreheads touched. Chris leaned in further until their noses pressed together. Silence fell over the two for a long time. The only sounds to be heard were the sounds of their breathing, and the occasional rustle of clothing as Jonny ran his fingers up and down Chris's arm.

 

Several hours later, Chris's parents came searching for him. They must have known where he was, though, because as his mother called his name while standing at the alley's opening, she didn't sound too worried. His father backed the moving van into the alleyway to make it easier to carry and load in the boxes.

 

Jonny volunteered to help them pack the truck. He never considered that by assisting them he was essentially speeding up their departure; he just wanted to spend more time with Chris. Besides, the two boys dawdled enough to make up for the difference, and in the end Jonny's aid may have actually prevented the family from leaving sooner.

 

Finally, though, the devastating moment came when Stephen walked out of the house and announced that no more boxes remained. Jonny felt the water rush to his eyes even before his chest tightened. He looked to Chris and saw that the other boy seemed oddly calm, especially considering the slight breakdown he had endured the day before.

 

Chris simply turned and took a step toward Jonny. His parents walked toward the front of the van, giving the boys a moment alone. Jonny wished they hadn't. At least with Chris's parents there, Jonny could have pulled himself together for a while; he saw no reason to do so around Chris, and it was because of this that as Chris wrapped his arms around Jonny, the green-eyed boy sobbed, something he had not done in a longer time than he could remember.

 

Chris remained composed, though; Jonny could feel the desperation in Chris's embrace, but when Chris pulled back to face Jonny, there was no trace of such emotion in his face. His hand was a little shaky as he brought it up to Jonny's cheek, much in the same way Jonny had done to Chris the previous afternoon.

 

Chris licked his lips and took a deep breath, but it felt like forever before he actually spoke. “This isn't goodbye, right? It's like... see you later.”

 

Jonny wanted to respond and tell Chris that it certainly didn't feel like 'see you later,' but he couldn't find the strength to speak. He sniffed a little.

 

“Because it could be, right?” Chris continued. He sounded as if he were trying to convince himself as well as Jonny. He shrugged slightly. “The world is a big place... but England's pretty small.”

 

Jonny found himself laughing, even though he didn't think he could in a situation like this. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Right. I'll see you later.”

 

Chris beamed, which Jonny both detested and felt glad for. He leaned forward to kiss Jonny, and the two boys were very reluctant to pull away. When they did break apart, though, Chris still smiled. He reached down and grabbed both of Jonny's hands in his own. “See you later, Jonny.”

 

He gave Jonny's hands a squeeze, and Jonny saw Chris's lips tremble just before he separated and left for the van. Jonny stood still and watched as the three Martins slid into the van, started the vehicle, and drove away. When he could no longer see the van in the distance, he turned to face the closed door of the house.

 

More tears dripped from his eyes as he stumbled forward and collapsed onto the porch stairs. He brought his knees as close to his chest as he could and buried his head in the space between his knees. He sat like that until the sun set and all that surrounded him was darkness.

 

 

[coldplayer#16]

Double Date - Part 9

by ~J-M-P-16

 

 

I know Jon was just joking around, but it was not the time. Mrs. Cue did call Mr. Wadsworth, and Max, but to no avail. They both had their phones off, but we were allowed to stay if we liked. Jonny didn't care, but I felt a bit of a need to stick around and at least see that Mae would be okay. It was my fault that Forest showed up . . . kind of, if I hadn't of snapped at the music shop . . . oh, never mind!

 

"Chris, are you sure we should do this?" Jonny asked.

 

"Look, you can go back to the inn and wait or stay here with me," I said, walking up the steps. It had been a good twenty minutes since Forest was thrown out (literally) and I hoped Mae would be herself again.

 

"Can we go upstairs now, Mrs. Cue?" Jonny asked.

 

"I guess," Mrs. Cue said, "It's Jon's call, not mine."

 

"It's fine," the other Jon said, coming down the steps, "she actually does want to see you."

 

"What?" I said, somehow surprised.

 

"Yeah, both of you, actually."

 

Jonny's jaw dropped, as did mine, "Are you kidding?!"

 

"No, he's not," Mae said, coming down the steps, "Do you mind if we talk, alone?" Mae's emphasis on her words worried me a bit, but Jonny and I went up anyway, finding nothing but a small apartment. There was a couch and a chair set up, a small little living room, actually, then a hallway with more rooms we didn't get a chance to explore.

 

"Why is this place here?" I asked, kind of confused.

 

"College kids," Mae explained, "they rent this place out and live here and . . . well, it's better than living too far off of campus, like living at the Porter's."

 

"Huh?"

 

"Oh, forget it, what I want to know is why the hell was Forest after you two!"

 

"Um well . . ." I said, my voice rising and cracking slightly.

 

"Chris got in a fight with him at the music shop," Jonny said flatly, as if it were nothing.

 

"Oh, really?" Mae said, eyebrow raised and hazel eyes locked onto me, "care to explain yourself, Christopher?"

 

"Who gave you the right to call me by my full name?!" I asked, trying to avoid the conversation.

 

"Sorry, Christopher Anthony John Martin, how's that?" Mae smirked.

 

I frowned, "And what if I called you by your full name?!" I snapped.

 

"You don't know my middle name," Mae said, "But that's not the point, Chris! Why did you fight Forest, he's an asshole and doesn't know when to shut his mouth!"

 

"You got that right," I said, "he doesn't."

 

"What'd he say?" Mae asked.

 

"He called you a whore."

 

I could see Mae's expression change from concern for us to rage, I saw a vein pulsing on her neck, "Anything else?" she gritted.

 

"Not until he came after us," I said, "then . . . well, you know."

 

"Yeah, I end up with a bruised stomach."

 

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen you know?"

 

"I know, just . . . go get Jon, please?"

 

"Sure," I said, standing up, letting Jonny lead the way out. Mae called us back, but just asked for me.

 

"Anything you can talk about in front of him you can say in front of me," Jonny said sternly.

 

"J, please!" I said, trying not to start a new fight.

 

"I just remembered something, only for Chris, okay?" Mae said, now over by the steps.

 

Jonny's eyes met Mae's, a sharp look from his reaching hers, "Fine," he said. He didn't leave right away, he took me by the sleeve to get me to bend over a bit, which I did, feeling his lips press to mine. He let me go after a few seconds and had a smug look on his face, walking down the step and leaving me in a rather awkward position.

 

Mae hadn't moved her eyes from me, I could feel it, and when I turned around, her arms were folded, eyebrow raised. I walked over to her, my cheeks probably red and I didn't look at her, my eyes were glued to the floor.

 

"I guess it's true, huh?" Mae said flatly.

 

"What is?" I asked.

 

"Green eyes of jealousy."

 

"Your eyes are kind of green."

 

"Hazel, Chris," she corrected, "they change depending on what I wear, really."

 

"Does it matter though?"

 

"Kind of, but I'm not here to bore you with fashion, you haven't gone that far into your bromance . . . or have you?"

 

"Excuse me?!" I barked, my voice cracking slightly.

 

Mae laughed, "I'm teasing! Sheesh, I know you guy aren't flaming."

 

"Nor do we intend to!"

 

"I'm glad," she said, "are you going to look at me or are you going to act like a puppy that's done something wrong?"

 

"The puppy thing sounds good."

 

"Oh, shut up!" Mae said, lifting my head up so I'd look up at her, "I wanted to say thank you."

 

"What?" I asked, surprised once again by Mae's words.

 

"You stood up for me, and for yesterday, you put up with my being a right bitch."

 

"Well, I didn't think you'd take it well, so I kind of expected the worst." Mae raised an eyebrow again, "I know what you mean though, and I understand."

 

Mae smiled and hugged me, "Thank you."

 

I just smiled and hugged her back, "Of course." She let me go after a short bit, and I could see her cheeks had gone slightly pink. "I'm sorry about Jon."

 

"He has the right," she said, "us having a little history."

 

"A bit, yeah, but up to a point."

 

"Of course," Mae said, "now, uh . . . I think Max will be here any minute."

 

"Max or Jon?" I asked with a laugh.

 

"Probably both," Mae said, laughing slightly, now, seriously, isn't your Jon waiting for you downstairs?"

 

"You have a point."

 

"I'll see you guys later, okay?"

 

"Yeah," I said, hugging her again before leaving, "see you tonight."

 

I could see a slight blush rise to Mae's cheeks and a smile on her face before I turned and walked down the steps. I admittedly had a smile on my face, but that quickly turned when I nearly ran over the other Jon . . . I did actually, falling down the steps and landing flat on my back, him landing on his stomach next to me.

 

"Watch it, Martin!" the other Jon yelled.

 

"Sorry, didn't see you!" I said, getting to my feet. Jonny came over and helped me up, and a woman who I didn't recognize went over to see if the other Jon was okay. She helped him up and looked over at me.

 

"You must be Chris," she said, holding out her hand, "I'm Mrs. Wadsworth."

 

[coldplayer#16]

Okay, so, this is not another part of Double Date, sorry. It's a new little thing I'm writing (about 3 or 5 parts long) because a while ago Brooke asked me to do a drawing of Chris and Jonny in a game of bumper cars. I discovered I was down right horrible at drawing bumper cars and gave up, but this idea came to me instead so . . . yeah :sweatdrop: Alright, enough talk, ONTO THE STORY!:

 

Bumper Cars

 

 

 

A day out at the theme park, a little something that Mrs. Young’s class of fifth graders had been looking forward to. The class was a small one, which was good, less parents that need to come along and supervise as well as less trouble with keeping kids with their chaperones. The class all had their permission slips in and were boarding the bus to get going. They all wanted to pile onto the bus, but their teacher kept them in line and they got on one at a time.

 

“I can’t wait to get there!” one of the boys, Will, said, “Roller coasters, here I come!”

 

“Oh, you think you can handle it?” Guy asked, “Last time you went on one you wet your pants.”

 

“I WAS SIX!” Will shouted, getting a glare from the teacher.

 

“Nice one, man.” Guy snickered

 

“Shut up,” Will pouted.

 

“What are you two on about?” a voice asked. The boys turned to see their friend, Chris, his arms folded and eyebrow raised, “Are you still on that little incident back in first grade?”

 

“Maaaaaybe,” Guy said innocently, eyes rolling and landing on Will, an evil smirk on his face. Will didn’t even have to look at his friend to know he had a smug look on his face, he raised his fist and brought it down on the other boy’s arm. “OW!”

 

“I hate you, you know that?” Will said, still not looking at Guy.

 

“No need to hit me!”

 

“Oh shut up you two!” Chris snapped, “Honesly, you guys are like a couple of old ladies.” Chris smiled while his friends looked back at him with evil looks. Chris’s moment of triumph was interupted by the sound of laughter from behind him. He turned and saw the new kid, snickering and holding his hands over his mouth to try and keep from laughing, but small giggles were escaping his lips.

 

The new kid was a red headed boy, curly red hair, with green eyes and he was pretty shy. He hadn’t really made any friends yet, even if he’d been there for a good week or two, he didn’t seem to fit in just yet. His name was Jonny, and that was really all of what most of the class knew about him.

 

Chris knew a bit more though, but it was only because of the odd feelings he felt for the new boy. He watched him during recess, drawing with chalk or maybe just on the swings, not even trying to pump himself, just sitting and staring up at the sky. He didn’t understand why he didn’t try to join the other boys when they played a game of kickball or maybe even football, or why he didn’t talk much, but what Chris did know was that he liked the new kid. Sadly though, his feelings of liking the new kid were confused, and like most elementary students, instead of telling the other boy he liked him or even just getting to know him, Chris was a bit of a jerk to him. He’d push poor Jonny off the swing so he’d hit the ground, stomped on the chalk Jonny’d use to draw, or even just making faces at him from across the room when the teacher had her back turned.

 

“What are you laughing at, newbie?!” Chris snapped.

 

Jonny immediately stopped laughing and stood up right, his face pale, “N-n-nothing!”

 

“So sure?”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“What’s wrong, huh? You look scared about somethin’.”

 

“N-n-no, I’m not sc-scared!”

 

Chris grabbed the other boys collar, “Oh yeah?”

 

“Please don’t hurt me!” Jonny blurted, tears forming in his eyes.

 

“Christopher!” Mrs. Young snapped, hand on her studnet’s shoulder, “Leave the poor boy alone and get on the bus! We’re ready to leave, you two are holding us up!”

 

Chris looked up at his teacher and sighed, letting the other boy’s collar go and sulking his way onto the bus. Jonny follwed, keeping his distance from Chris. Chris looked up and saw that there was only one seat open, every other one was full.

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said under his breath.

 

“Go sit!” Mrs. Young snapped, pointing at the empty seat. Chris frowned and made his way to the seat, a shaking Jonny standing in front of him moments after.

 

“You gonna sit or stand there like a fool?” Chris asked.

 

“Um . . . I uh . . .” Jonny stammered.

 

“Oh sit down!” Chris said, grabbing the other boy’s hand and pulling him into the seat. Chris was smiling on the inside, he’d gotten a brief chance to hold the other boy’s hand, but it only lasted so long. Jonny snapped his hand away and tried not to seem too frightened, something he failed to do.

 

The bus began to move and the class was off to the park, a bunch of chatter rising into the air and the sound of the radio starting to play was barely audible to anyone. Chris sat and stared out the window, arms crossed and pouting slightly, he was trying to make it seem like he hated his seating arrangement. He didn’t really, it’s something he’d been hoping would happen, but the teacher’s seating chart had the boy’s on opposite sides of the room.

 

He felt some movement from the other boy, he turned his attention to him instead of the passing world outside. Jonny had just unzipped his jacket and pulled something out, it was green and before Chris even knew what it was, he snatched it from the other boy’s hands.

 

“Hey!” Jonny yelled, reaching his hands out to retreave the stolen item, “Give it back!”

 

Chris put a hand out and kept it on Jonny’s forehead to keep the other boy out of reach, “What is this thing?”

 

“It’s a hat, if you must now,” Jonny said, giving up on his struggle, “I brought it with me.”

 

“Why?” Chris asked.

 

“Do I have to explain myself to you? NO!” Jonny protested, reaching out again, even though Chris hadn’t moved his hand.

 

“Oh, cool it!” Chris snapped, holding the boy away again.

 

“Give it back, it’s mine!” Jonny yelled. Chris smiled and let his hand fall to his side, thinking he’d get the boy to fall over, but the bus turned and made Jonny hit the window, then onto Chris.

 

“Get off!” Chris yelled, a blush rising to his cheeks. He pushed the other boy over to the other side of the seat, nearly making him fall out, but Jonny grabbed the back of the seat before he could fall.

 

He pulled himself up into the seat and put a hand on his forhead, “Oww . . .”

 

“Are you gonna answer me then?” Chris asked, voice weak.

 

Jonny didn’t even bother to look at the other boy, let alone anser him, he brought his knees up to his chest and hugged his legs. Chris could see a red mark on Jonny’s forehead, not blood, just red. It was the start of a bruise.

 

“Must bruise easy,” Chris thought. He put a hand on the other boys shoulder, “Hey . . . c’mon, get up.”

 

“Shut up!” Jonny snapped, his voice shakey and high. Chris saw tears forming in the other boy’s eyes again.

 

Chris felt bad, but at the same time didn’t know what to do. He opened up the now curmpled hat and slid it over the back of Jonny’s head, “There, happy?” Jonny didn’t answer, he stayed in his little ball, face hidden now, the hat falling onto his back. Chris sighed and took the hat again, “Fine, if you’re not gonna waer it, I’ll just-” Chris was cut off by a hand reaching out and snatching the hat. Jonny scowled at the other boy, putting the hat on, covering up most of the giner curls.

 

“Why are you always such a jerk?” he asked, “You’re only ever mean to me, not any of the other boys! Why am I such a prime target huh?! Is it because I’m new, or because I’m ginger, or because I don’t fit in like most kids? What is it that makes you so mean to just me?!” Jonny was furious now, but the bus had stopped, they had arrived at the park.

 

Chris didn’t get a chance to answer either, Jonny noticed and got up immediately, realising what he’d just said might get him a punch in the face, but Chris wouldn’t dare do such a thing. He thought he was just teasing, but clearly not, he’d done worse than he thought. He got off the bus and found Guy and Will.

 

“I’m happy that the old hag didn’t separate us into different groups,” Guy said, “we finally get to be in a group together!”

 

“What?” Chris asked.

 

“Didn’t you hear her?” Will asked, “Mrs. Young put us into groups of four, we’re all together with my dad.” Will explained.

 

“Who’s the fourth person?” Chris asked.

 

“Me,” came a sad voice, “She said I was with you guys.” It was Jonny, and Chris couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was in the same group as the kid he liked and finally figured out he’d hurt.

 

“Alright, you boys ready?” Mr. Champion asked.

 

“Yeah dad, I think so,” Will said, “You guys ready?”

 

“Yep,” Guy said with a smile.

 

“Sure,” Chris said weakly. Jonny just nodded and the group started into the park. They started off small with the rides and agreed that they’d work their way up to the rollercoasters and such. Jonny wasn’t happy with his group, but the other boys seemed nice, so maybe he could hang around them instead of Chris.

 

“So, you’re Jonny right?” Guy asked.

 

“Uh huh.” Jonny said in a weak voice.

 

“Oh, c’mon, buck up, yeah?” Will said, “We’re in a theme park for a school trip, it should be fun right?”

 

“Yeah.” Jonny said.

 

“So what’s with the depressing looks huh?!”

 

Jonny smiled a bit and then turned to Chris, who was staring at him. Chris quickly moved his eyes to the entrance of the park to seem like he wasn’t staring, but Jonny knew otherwise. He moved toward the other boys and walked into the park, still slightly afraid of a beating.

 

[coldplayer#16]

Bumper Cars

 

Part 2

 

 

 

“Alright, where do you guys wanna start?” Will asked, turning to the other boys.

 

“I say we do the Silver Bullet first,” Chris said, “Either that or the UFO.”

 

“UFO,” Guy said.

 

“What’s that?” Jonny asked.

 

“That!” Will said happily, point to a ride that spun around in a cirlce, slowly raising up at an angle until it was straight up and down. It seemed fast and fun, but it was the height that made Jonny’s stomach turn. He hated hieghts, and the spinning might not help. Jonny was so collected in his thoughts he didn’t realise that they were already moving. Chris took the opprotunity and grabbed the boy’s hand again.

 

“Coming?” he asked, smiling. Jonny was surprised, he looked at his hand, then up at Chris, who was still smiling. He looked at Chris wide eyed until Chris had a look of concern on his face, “You okay?”

 

“Uh, yeah,” Jonny said, taking his hand away, “let’s go.”

 

Chris smiled slightly and turned, walking toward the ride. Jonny followed, again, kepping his distance, but Chris stopped and turned around, “You sure you’ll be-” Jonny wimpered and put his arms up in front of his face when Chris spoke, fearing he’d be punched, “What are you doing?”

 

Jonny dropped his arms, “A-aren’t you gonna . . . hit me?”

 

“Hit you? Why would I do that?” Chris asked, confused.

 

“I-I thought . . . on the bus I-”

 

“Look, I’m not gonna hit you okay, just can we please go?”

 

“Why are you suddenly being nice to me?!” Jonny spat.

 

“Oh, c’mon!” Chris yelled, sick of questions. He grabbed Jonny’s hand again and started toward the group, Jonny resisting Chris’s grip and his persistant pulling. Jonny was dragged to the ride, where the other boys stood staring at him and Chris with confusion.

 

“Where’s your dad, Will?” Chris asked, not letting go of Jonny’s hand.

 

“He went off to get something to drink,” Will said, “you sure he’s gonna be okay?”

 

“He’ll be fine,” Chris said, “lets go!”

 

The boys all raced into the line, all getting into the same little section together. Will and Guy were on one side and Jonny and Chris in the other. Chris took the outside spot, thinking that since Jonny was acting weird, maybe the inside spot would be a bit comforting. Jonny still wasn’t anymore comfortable.

 

The ride started up and the boys were all beaming, minus Jonny, who was actually a bit scared. He did smile a bit though, once things got going. He had his hat back in his jacket, fearing he’d lose it, and the ride began to lift up and the spinning faster and faster. He could hear the other boys yelling out and laughing as the ride came up to it’s peak, then it slowed down and came to a stop. The boys all got off with a smile on their faces.

 

“That was actually a lot faster than I thought it would be!” Guy said.

 

“What do you expect . . . Silver Bullet now?” Will said.

 

“Yeah, and then we should-” the boys went on and made their plans for the rides, Mr. Champion following them to each one and just happy to see his son and friends happy. The boys went on all the rides they could until lunch, then they decided to grab something to eat.

 

“What do you guys want?” Will asked.

 

“I don’t know, hot dogs?” Guy suggested.

 

“I saw a place with chicken and chips over there,” Chris said, pointing to one of the many food stands.

 

“I think there’s a fish and chips place right over there,” Jonny said, “I’m up for anything though.”

 

“Fish, chicken, hot dogs, it’s all fried in one way or another!” Will said, “I’m going to the chicken place.”

 

“Wait up!” Guy yelled, following his friend.

 

“What you you want Jonny?” Chris asked.

 

“Uh . . . fish?” Jonny said with an uneasy tone.

 

“Is that an answer or a question?”

 

“Fish.”

 

“Then c’mon, let’s go.” Chris started walking off to the stand and Jonny just stood still. Chris turned back and looked at the other boy, “Are you coming?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just . . .” Jonny began, but couldn’t get the words out. Chris grabbed Jonny’s hand again and began walking to the stand, Jonny not trying to resisting. Chris was smiling now, he was happy to be holding Jonny’s hand, even if it was just for a little bit. But he was also happy that Jonny wasn’t trying to let go, in fact, he was hanging onto Chris’s hand with a tight squeeze and then a smile came onto his face. Chris could see a blush on Jonny’s cheek, which was a good sign, it must have meant that Jonny liked him too, right?

 

The boys came up to the stand and Chris ordered two things of fish and chips. They got their food and paid, finding the table where the other boys sat and were already starting to dig into their food.

 

“Hey guys,” Chris said, sitting next to Will, “how’s the chicken?”

 

“S’alright,” Will said, “want a bite?”

 

“I’m good.”

 

“What about you J?”

 

“Huh?” Jonny said, looking over to Will. Will held out one of the chicken tenders and Jonny took it, “You sure?”

 

Will shruged, “I offered didn’t I?”

 

Jonny smiled and offered a bit of fish in exchange, which Will did not turn down. The boys were content with just eating together and talking, cracking a joke or two before finishing up. The boys took up their trash and were anxious to go back on the rides.

 

“If we go on a rollercoaster we might barf,” Guy said. Will put his arms over his stomach and leaned forward, mock-barfing. Being as immature as they were, the boys all laughed at his little display.

 

“Alright, alright, but seriously, what should we do about the rides?” Chris asked.

 

“I know this is going to sound dumb, but what about bumer cars?” Jonny asked.

 

“That’s not dumb at all,” Guy said, “That’s actually a pretty good idea!”

 

“We could still barf though.” Will pointed out.

 

“Okay fine then,” Jonny said, “How about some games then?”

 

“Yeah!”

 

“Last one to the games is a rotten egg!” Chris yelled, racing off to the closest of the game stands. The other boys laughed and raced agter him, Will pushing Guy out of the way so that he wouldn’t lose.

 

“No fair!” Guy yelled.

 

“So what, you’re a rotten egg!” Will said, sticking his tongue out at his friend.

 

“Jerk!”

 

“Excuse me,” a voice said, “you boys here to play or chat?”

 

“Play,” Chris said, pulling out some ones, “Four rounds of darts please.”

 

“Coming right up.” The man running the stand took the money and then placed five darts for each of the boys, “One at a time, boys.”

 

“I’ll go first!” Guy said, throwing the first dart. He missed the balloon on the board, same with the next two, but his last ones popped two of the balloons.

 

“Pick a prize off of the wall here, kid.” The man said, pointing to a section of the prizes.

 

“Me next!” Will yelled excitedly, throwing his first dart, and hitting a balloon right away. He hit two more and missed his last shots. He got a prize from the same self as Guy.

 

“You wanna go next, Jonny?” Chris asked.

 

“I’m no good at darts, actually,” Jonny said.

 

“Nonsense!” Chris said, “Just shoot!”

 

“O-okay.” Jonny threw his first dart, hitting one of the balloons right away. He smiled and looked at Chris, who smiled back and gave him a thumbs up. Jonny threw the next dart, hitting another balloon, and his darts hit a balloon with each throw.

 

“I thought you said that you weren’t good at this!” Will exclaimed.

 

“I guess I just got lucky,” Jonny said, “I’m usually not!”

 

“Top shelf!” the man running the stand said.

 

Jonny smiled and looked at Chris, “What do you think I should get?”

 

“You’re asking me?” Chris said, surprised.

 

“Why not right?”

 

Chris smiled and pointed to one of the tigers that was up on the shelf, and that’s what the boys got.

 

“Your turn Chris!” Guy yelled.

 

“Alright, I’m gonna suck though.” Chris laughed, and threw the darts as best he could, only hitting one of the balloons. Chris shrugged it off, but the man said he could pick a higher prize than he deserved. Chris didn’t object to his offer. The boys went on and played more games, not winning too many more prizes, but having fun none-the-less.

 

They were only killing time, but once they heard the suggestion for bumper cars again, they all ran off to where they cars were, leaving Mr. Champion to hold all of the winnings that the boys had gotten.

 

[coldplayisawesome]

:lipsrsealed2:

 

The Alley

Chapter Six

 

 

NINETEEN YEARS LATER

 

 

He stood in the check-out line behind a woman with far too many children. He couldn't understand how one tiny woman could keep track of and care for six little, possibly sugar-high, human beings running around her and screaming, “Mommy, can I have...? Mommy, I want... Mommy, I need... !” He almost felt a headache coming on just from the few minutes he spent near them.

 

And he almost didn't realize when they had left and it was his turn to stand in front of the cashier. He set his few items on the counter and then looked around at the junk which was displayed in front of the register while he waited for the cashier to get him his change. He never bought into (he almost snorted with laughter) the idea of impulse buying at the check-out; sure, he felt tempted every now and then to buy candy and other goods which he did not need, but he never gave in to the temptation.

 

“Sir,” the cashier said, and he realized that this man had been trying to get his attention for a while now. The cashier held his change out along with a plastic bag which contained his purchases.

 

“Oh.” He took the change and the bag, and thanked the cashier. He almost ran into the teenage boy behind him, but was luckily quick enough to duck before any collision could occur.

 

By this point, the thick-rimmed glasses he wore had slid down his nose. Finding himself devoid of a hand to use to push them up, he scrunched his nose and used his elbow to open the door of the shop.

 

It was a cool spring day outside, but warm enough for the people of the town to be out and about. The streets and sidewalks were not as crowded as they would be in a city, but they were still bustling with people. He didn't know any of the pedestrians he passed, but he still greeted most of them anyway. He liked being polite, as dorky as he knew it sounded.

 

A bench placed just outside of one of the doors caught his eye – rather, a man sitting on the bench caught his eye. But even then, he only noticed the man, because of what the man held in his hands. Otherwise he never would have even looked twice.

 

The man sitting on the bench had a comic book in his hands, so immersed in reading that the book actually hid the man's face. He immediately recognized the book, though, and he almost dropped his bag out of shock. It was bad enough that he had stopped walking so abruptly, because a woman behind him pushing a baby in a stroller almost bumped into him. She made a comment about his rudeness as she swerved around him, but he wasn't paying attention. He was staring at the man with the comic book.

 

“Jonny?” he asked when he finally found his voice. Though the man had not really been moving before, he visibly froze. Slowly, the man lowered the book until dull green eyes were visible.

 

“Chris...”

 

Then Chris found his body as well, and he moved out of the way of the pedestrians, headed toward the bench. He sat down next to Jonny and wondered if he wasn't just hallucinating. Not that he had ever hallucinated before, or that he would have a reason to start now. It just seemed to good to be real.

 

“You don't look very different,” Chris said, in a mystified voice. “Just older.”

 

“I could say the same for you,” Jonny told him. “Except for the braces.”

 

“Oh.” Chris absentmindedly brought a hand up to his mouth. It had been so long since he had last worn braces that he had forgotten what it felt like and had almost forgotten that he ever wore them. Of course, he could still never keep his mouth shut for longer than a few seconds. “I tried wearing contacts once, too.”

 

“I'm guessing you didn't like them.”

 

“No, I remembered what you said about me wearing glasses. You were right. I felt like someone else with the contacts in.” Chris gave Jonny a goofy grin. “It was weird.”

 

Jonny laughed, and Chris marveled at how natural this felt. Being around Jonny again. He had suggested the last time they saw each other that they could always meet again in the future, but he had honestly never expected the day to come. Yet here they were, and even though so much time had passed, it felt like nothing at all.

 

“So, what brings you 'round here?” Jonny asked.

 

“Oh, I just had to get a few groceries,” Chris answered. He pushed up his glasses and realized that maybe Jonny hadn't meant to ask what he was doing here this particular moment, but rather in general. “But I live here now. I'm teaching at the elementary school a few blocks over.”

 

“You're teaching?” Jonny's tone had a hint of surprise as well as wonder. Chris figured that was a good thing.

 

“Well, you know those special classes they have for the kids who have problems with reading? I teach that.” Chris saw a faint smile dancing over Jonny's lips. “Not by myself, of course. There are two other teachers, and we do a lot of one-on-one stuff with the kids.”

 

“That's really cool,” Jonny quietly said. “My job isn't as glamorous. I just work at that cafe over there.” He pointed to a building right across the street from where they sat. “And I guess I haven't done as much good with my life as you have.”

 

“What have you done?”

 

“Well...” Jonny sighed, and Chris could tell that whatever he had to say was going to put a dark spin on their conversation. “I spent some time in jail... But I think it helped, actually. I was able to get help from some really nice people, and I'm seeing a therapist now.”

 

Chris felt like Jonny had more to say, but was waiting for Chris to respond first. “Well, that is good.”

 

“Yeah, I guess. I always knew I had a lot of problems, but I didn't know how to... fix them.” Jonny shrugged. Chris thought he seemed a little uncomfortable, yet also like he didn't want to stop telling Chris about it. “Talking about them doesn't really help by itself, but my therapist has taught me how to deal with them. Or, at least, how to start dealing with them.”

 

“I'm glad,” Chris told him. “I always thought you were too nice for the life you had.”

 

Jonny smiled, but Chris could tell that there was something bothering him. Something he still needed to talk about. Chris waited patiently, and a few moments later Jonny sucked in a deep breath.

 

“So, that's it, then? You're just a teacher. You're not a... father or husband or something?” Chris shook his head, and for some reason, Jonny looked genuinely surprised. “Really? I thought you'd have gotten married to some other nerdy teacher and had a bunch of little nerdy babies.”

 

Chris put on his goofy grin again. “But I'm asexual, remember?”

 

“Right,” Jonny laughed. “Well, Mr. Asexual, are you busy or can you spare an hour for lunch? It's on me.”

 

Chris briefly wondered if he should consider this an invitation for a date, then decided that it didn't matter either way. That could be determined later on. He shrugged. “I suppose I could make room in my busy schedule for a free lunch.”

 

Jonny smiled and stood up, shoving the comic book into his jacket. He held his hand out to Chris. “We can stop by your place first, so you can drop that stuff off.”

 

“OK.” Chris took Jonny's hand and rose from his seat. He made sure to grab his bag from the bench before he forgot. Chris realized that he had the answer to his previous musing without ever having asked the question, as the two then began to walk down the sidewalk, their hands still clasped.

 

 

 

ALL WAS WELL. teeheeheeeheee

 

 

 

 

 

 

[coldplayer#16]

Bumper Cars

 

Part 3

 

 

“Dibs on the blue one!” Will shouted once the gate to the ride opened. He ran to the car as fast as he could, jumping in the seat and Guy got into the car next to him, a red one. Chris found a yellow one, not a color he would have liked, but Jonny had gotten the green one nest to it, so Chris thought he could manage. The buzzer rang and the riders were off, Will swerving around into Guy and then being hit by one of the other kids on the ride. Guy and Jonny were just driving around, hoping to hit one of their friends or someone else, but Chris had other ideas.

 

Chris zoomed in and out of drivers, getting hit once or twice, but he was going for Jonny, falling into his old habit of being mean instead of nice. He did hit him once or twice, but Jonny just laughed, seeing as to how Guy had rammed into Chris after. The ride didn’t lastvery long though, at least it didn’t seem it.

 

“Alright, no one barfed, right?” Will asked, knowing the answer.

 

“Nope,” Guy said.

 

“Un-uh,” Jonny said.

 

“You want to go on the roller coasters now, don’t you?” Chris asked.

 

“. . . Yes!” Will said, his voice high and excited, “C’mon, I know just the ones to go to!” Will led his friends, and his dad, around from coaster to coaster, but the first one seemed to be the worst.

 

“C’mon guys, the name doesn’t mean it’s as bad as you think!” Will said, jumping about and giggling.

 

“Uh . . . ‘Spine Breaker’?!” Guy shouted.

 

“It’s just bumpy, it’s not that bad.” Will said, his voice changed to a monotone.

 

“I don’t know about this.”

 

There was a small debate between the two boys while Chris just stood looking at the sign, unmoved by it’s name or look. Jonny, however, wasn’t as grounded as Chris was, far from.

 

“I’m scared,” Chris heard Jonny mutter, knowing it wasn’t meant for the other boys to hear.

 

Chris smiled and moved over to Jonny, taking his hand again, “You don’t have to go you know?”

 

“I know, but . . .”

 

“But what?”

 

“I don’t want to seem like any more of a loser to the other guys.”

 

Chris smiled and hugged Jonny, “You’re not a loser.”

 

“Why are you suddenly like this?”

 

“Huh?”

 

Jonny pushed away from Chris, “This. Yesterday you were happy to torture me and now, you’re getting all close, why?”

 

Chris started blushing and Jonny just looked at him, curious. Guy and Will were still arguing, to no one’s surprise, but Jonny wanted an answer. He knew Chris had been chasing him, the looks, the hands holding, why the sudden 360 in feeling?

 

“Guys, I’ll be right back,” Chris said to Will and Guy, taking Jonny by the hand and leading him to a place where he knew no one would see them.

 

“What are you doing?!” Jonny spat when Chris finally stopped.

 

“You want to know the truth?” Chris said, knowing he was going to regret this later.

 

“Well, I just want to know why you’ve been so mean and then so nice to me! I thought you hated me!” Jonny blurted out, not knowing what to do. Chris smiled and lifted the boy’s hat up, exposing some red curls and the red mark he’d gotten from hitting the bus window earlier. It had turned a light purple now, but it wasn’t that bad, not as big as a bruise Chris thought it would be.

 

Chris leaned in and pressed his lips to the bruise, “I like you, Jonny, I mean, like like you.”

 

Jonny was stunned, he looked at Chris wide eyed, seeing how red his cheeks were and how Chris’s blue eyes seemed clear now, innocent and caring, unlike the usual cold and angry. Jonny leaned in and kissed Chris’s cheek, “I’m glad the feeling’s mutual.”

 

Chris looked at the other boy, surprised. Jonny was smiling and had a bright pink color on his cheeks, but Chris didn’t know what to say, “But, I thought- I- . . .wha?”

 

“I don’t normally get upset when someone pushes me around, I’m kind of used to it, being the new kid and all, it takes a bit right? I just thought that maybe if I could toughen up and face you you’d like me, but I guess I was wrong. I kept beating myself up after you did.”

 

“I never meant to, I just- . . . I don’t know,” Chris admitted.

 

“I kinda figured it out on the bumper cars, you kept chasing me and . . . well, it seemed not like the new you.”

 

“I’m sorry about all the stuff I did.”

 

Jonny smiled and leaned into Chris, pressing his lips up to the other boy’s and wrapping his arms around him, “It’s okay.”

 

Chris smiled and hugged Jonny back, “You sure, I feel really bad and I-”

 

“What’d I say?” Jonny asked, looking up at Chris with a raised eyebrow.

 

Chris just smiled and kissed Jonny, “You’ve got a point.”

 

“Ready for that roller coaster?”

 

“Race ya there!” Chris said, scrambling to his feet. Jonny did the same and raced with Chris to the coaster, neither one of the caring who won. They were enjoying each other’s company, even if they didn’t start off well. They’d gone through one roller coaster of emotions as is, and you know, what’s a couple of roller coasters to them? They went on each one laughing and enjoying the rides, even the ‘Spine Breaker’, which wasn’t as exciting and terrifying as the name made it seem.

 

“Will, you have a need for roller coasters, don’t you?” Guy asked, the trip coming to an end.

 

“Yes, yes I do,” Will said with a smile, “but you liked it, I heard you laughing and screaming.”

 

“Yeah, and hey, you didn’t wet your pants this time!”

 

“I’m going to murder you!” Will yelled, chasing after his friend. Guy was laughing as he ran away from Will, and Chris and Jonny, well . . . they were smiling, hands laced together, laughing at how silly the other two were being.

 

The boy’s teacher broke them up and everyone got on the bus just like before. Chris and Jonny were still sitting together, hands laced together, smiles on their faces. Jonny had his head on Chris’s shoulder, Chris resting lightly on top of Jonny. They were happy together, and even if the teacher saw them kissing on the way back, or anyone for that matter, they clearly didn’t care. It wasn’t for very long anyway, but you know, for fifth grade, it wasn’t so bad.

 

“Good ending to a good day, huh?” Jonny said, looking up at Chris.

 

“More than good,” Chris said, kissing Jonny’s cheek, “best day ever.”

 

THE END YAY!

 

[Batman]

Repost of:

CAREFUL WHERE YOU STAND

(by Sara)

 

CHAPTER 1

 

 

It was horribly cold, and Jonny was shivering. He had a sweatshirt on, but he had always been a wussy when it came to the cold. Especially this kind of cold. He kept his eyes trained on the sky for any sign of snowflakes.

 

"So are we still on?" he heard Will ask in a whisper.

 

"I don't know, maybe."

 

"There's not too many people out there. Think they'll be disappointed?"

 

"How the bloody hell should I know?" Jonny retorted.

 

"Are you just being a bitch because you're cold?"

 

"Are you asking stupid questions because you have no one else to annoy?"

 

Will shrugged and rubbed his hands together. "This sucks shite."

 

Jonny rolled his eyes and turned away from Will. Pillock. Where were Chris and Guy? Chris had promised he'd be back by now. And Guy had disappeared without anyone noticing, like bloody usual. Christ! When everything had seemed to be going all right, it suddenly just sort of fell apart around them. And none of them seemed to even care.

 

"Jonny, you okay?" Will asked timidly.

 

"Never been better."

 

 

"You look a little panicked."

 

"That's because we have less than half an hour before stage time and our lead singer is MIA!"

 

Will cast a look around the dank little green room. "You could sing in place of him."

"I don't think so, Will. Don't be stupid." Jonny sighed and burrowed deeper into his black sweatshirt. Jesus... What a crappy mood he was in. Usually he was fine, right before they came on stage, but right now he just really felt like going to sleep and waking up when it was all over.

 

His mind wandered, thankfully. But it wandered to a very unfortunate place. Three nights ago, to the tiny, darkened hotel room after they played Brixton Academy. Two rooms, two beds. Guy and Will in one bed, Chris and he in the other. It had been bad, very bad... Chris, though built like a twig, took up most of the boxy little bed. Their backs were pressed together, and one of Chris's feet was nested in the crook of Jonny's knee. That had been okay; pleasant, even. Jonny liked the warmth Chris gave. He was nearly asleep, when suddenly Chris had shifted positions completely. Now his cheek was resting on Jonny's shoulder, and they were spooned together like... Well, like lovers, or something. Jonny blushed slightly even thinking about it. He fidgeted nervously, trying to forget it - but it had felt so right and so perfect. Jonny had never felt so at peace before. But he didn't want to touch that...

 

It was friendship. Jonny was straight. Chris was definitely straight. They were all just regular guys with girlfriends. Jonny had just been having a rough time in the romance department ever since the whole business with fame had started - you had to be careful who you picked. Some were just groupies, and others were earnest. It was a gamble every time, and Jonny, more often than not, lost.

 

But something was different now. Something had turned inside Jonny, and every time he thought of Chris, he thought of Chris's soft cheek pressed against his shoulder and his chest to Jonny's back. Jonny had felt his chest rise and fall with every even breath.

 

"Jonny? You hear that? I think Guy is back." Will stood and stretched, then cracked his knuckles. "Ready?"

 

No, of course not! I can't go up on fucking stage in front of a crowd with Chris right there next to me, crooning like a sex god! "Yeah, I'm ready," Jonny said easily.

 

Guy burst in, kicking the door open with a booted foot. It smacked against the wall loudly, and he grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Yo! You guys ready to fucking rock?"

 

Jonny eyed him dubiously. "You obviously are," he retorted, standing and shoving his hands in his jeans pockets.

 

"Fuck yeah! Chris is nervous, though."

 

"Why? It's only a hundred people or so." Will picked up his drumsticks and twirled them in his fingers.

 

"Dunno!" Guy said. "He's in the loo, standing over the toilet."

 

"Is he throwing up?" Jonny asked, furrowing his brow. Poor Chris... He was brilliant onstage, but not so good with the before-you-get-onstage bit.

 

"Don't think so," Guy told him cheerily, trotting over to where his guitar rested in its case. "I'm not sure, though. Maybe you should check. He asked after you, anyway."

 

"He asked a --" Jonny swallowed his sudden rush of excitement, wincing. "Er... Yeah, all right. I'll go check."

 

He pushed past Guy and walked quietly down the hall to the bathroom, knocking twice on the slightly open door. Chris coughed hollowly, and called in a slightly strangled voice, "What?"

 

"You okay, mate? Guy told me you were puking or something." Jonny cringed at how insensitive his words sounded... but he was nervous around Chris. Every friendly gesture suddenly had to be examined under a new light; a light that made him slightly - no, *extremely* uncomfortable.

 

"No... Yeah. Whatever. I don't know." Chris yanked open the door and Jonny stumbled back a step. He looked like hell, that was for sure; rings under his eyes, face pale, shoulders slouched.

 

"Jesus, Chris. Have you been getting sleep?"

 

Chris shrugged and leaned against the doorframe, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. "Yeah... I haven't really been able to sleep for a couple nights now."

 

A couple nights. A couple nights ago, they had slept together. In the same bed. Like long-time lovers. Jonny shivered, watching Chris's haggard face. "Since Brixton?"

 

"Yeah..." Chris blinked. "How'd you -- er, well... Yeah. Since Brixton. I'm a little out of it."

 

"Can you make it tonight?"

 

"Of course. When I get back though... Well... Where are we staying?"

 

"Dunno. A hotel."

 

Chris fidgeted a little, not meeting Jonny's eyes. "How many rooms we got? Four?"

 

Jonny's head felt light. "No... we're only there one night. We got two rooms."

 

And two beds.

 

 

CHAPTER 2

 

 

NOTE: Told from Jonny's POV

 

It was all a veritable blur after the concert was over. Chris thanked the audience, smiled brilliantly and waved, then lifted his guitar from his shoulders and walked offstage. Will stood, stretched a bit, and jogged after him. Guy laid his guitar down, rocked his mike a little, and then turned to go backstage. I was frozen for a moment, watching the crowd of people, but then I dropped my own guitar – gently, of course – and followed the three of them, knock-kneed.

 

Behind the stage was like a blessing. Chris slumped against a wall and yawned, and Guy punched his shoulder.

 

“Hey! Good work, mate!” He grinned.

 

Chris smiled weakly back. Will trapped him in a headlock and rubbed his head vigorously, but Chris was too exhausted to even yelp and stomp on Will’s foot like he usually did. Then came my turn. I blinked helplessly, trying to think of a buddy-buddy gesture to make without seeming… you know… too buddy-buddy. Without letting on that I was thinking about tonight, because I’m a perverted loser who preys on his best friend.

 

Chris’s bright blue eyes fixed on me – not expectantly, just tiredly. His smile perked a little, and I returned it as best as I could.

 

“Ready to go home, boys?” Guy called.

 

“We’re not going anywhere but some shite hotel, Mr. Berryman,” Will retorted.

 

“So? We can make it cozy.”

 

“Don’t be such a poofter.” Will threw a pillow at him, and Guy clumsily caught it and hugged it to his chest.

 

“I’m not a poof! What are you talking about?” he asked indignantly, in his most feminine voice.

 

“Come on,” I called in my best “rounding up the sheep” voice. “Chris is wiped, and so am I. Let’s get going, alright?”

 

Guy and Will both made faces at me, but I narrowed my eyes menacingly. Nobody was going to get in my way right now. I was a man on a mission, goddammit.

 

“Yeah, let’s go.” Guy gave a small yawn. “I need a bloody shower. Right now.”

 

Will shrugged and sniffed his armpit. “I don’t know about you guys, but I smell like a freshly-watered flower.”

 

Chris laughed. “Somehow I doubt that!”

 

“Look! Have a smell!” Will snickered and held up his arm. Guy staggered backwards, a nauseated look on his face.

 

“Put your arm down right this instant, William Champion! I think I’m going to die!”

 

Chris laughed again, but I could tell he was tired. His shoulders slumped and his smile didn’t quite reach his gorgeous eyes. When we finally made it into the car, he fell asleep while Will and Guy joked, and his thigh rested against mine. I couldn’t keep the tiny smile off my face.

 

- - - -

 

I shook Chris’s shoulder as the car rolled to a stop. He moaned hoarsely, and turned his sleepy blue eyes to me. I smiled at him.

 

“Come on, man. Get your bag from the boot.” I touched his cheek lightly with my thumb, then pulled my hand away, feeling foolish. He didn’t seem to notice as he maneuvered his lanky frame from the small car. He pulled his hang onto his shoulder clumsily and stumbled after Guy and Will, his eyes still half-closed. I grinned and slammed the boot shut, then caught up to him and slung an arm around his shoulder.

 

He leaned against me slightly, smiling. And then Guy was tossing the key to our room – OUR room – at me, and I fumbled, unlocking the door. Chris smirked.

 

“Need some help?”

 

“No, no… I got it… I was never very good at unlocking doors.”

 

It finally opened, swinging inward and knocking lightly against the wall. The room was pitch-dark, and Chris held out his hands in front of him cautiously as he walked in. “It smells like cheap perfume,” he remarked, laughing. “Or a ladies’ room!”

 

“Pleasant!” I gave him a little shove, and slid my hand around on the wall for the light switch. When I finally found it, the overhead light buzzed and hissed as it flickered on. I grimaced. “It’s certainly no five star hotel.”

 

“Well, we’re not going to be doing much,” Chris said practically, dropping his bag on the bed. It squeaked loudly. “Just sleeping.”

 

I eyed him for any signs of sarcasm or nervousness, but he was totally at ease. Of course; just like always. It was hard to tell when Chris was wearing his mask of good humor and when he was truly content.

 

“Right. Well, ah…” I blinked. There was a shelf jutting out from the bottom of the bed. A pull-out. I winced. Did I want to mention it and lose the opportunity of a night next to him, or be the gentleman and offer to sleep on it?

 

Chris didn’t seem to notice it. Though I felt all the more evil and perverted for it, I was relieved.

 

I yanked back the starched covers and kicked off my sneakers, and Chris hopped onto the bed and rolled onto his back next to me.

 

“So, are you tired?” he asked.

 

“Yeah.” I wiggled down under the covers and Chris grinned.

 

“Someone’s got to shut off the light,” he told me.

 

“Yep.” I made myself busy getting comfortable.

 

“I’m not gonna do it.” He yanked the covers over on his side.

 

“Someone’s got to.” I yanked back.

 

“Yeah, but not me!” He took a handful of the blankets on my side and tugged insistently, like a child.

 

“Me neither,” I laughed, kicking his leg.

 

“We can’t very well sleep with the light on, Jonny,” he whined.

 

“You look tired enough to sleep just about anywhere.”

 

“So? Get up. Go turn it off.”

 

“I don’t wanna walk through the dark.”

 

“Don’t be such a baby!”

 

“I’M not the baby here, you’re the one that won’t get up and turn off the light!”

 

“No, that’s you!” He pulled the covers as hard as he could. I yelped and grabbed on, and was roughly yanked over to his side. I drew in a breath so sharp it hurt as my lips brushed his cheek and then suddenly I went tumbling off the bed, him tangled up with me. I landed painfully on my back, and Chris landed on top. Not an altogether undesirable thing, but painful as hell.

 

I wheezed for breath, my vision swimming. The back of my head was tingling.

 

“Holy…” Chris cussed colorfully a moment, regaining his balance. “Jesus, Jon, I’m really sorry… Are you all right?” He cupped my cheek with his broad hand and shook me a bit.

 

I smiled, laughing breathlessly. “You don’t know your own strength, apparently.”

 

He grinned, relieved that I was all right. “Guess not.” He flexed a skinny arm.

 

“Look… ah…” I poked him in the stomach and he giggled. “Are we gonna sleep or what?”

 

He heaved himself off and clambered back on the bed, then scooted into the far corner to leave room for me. I carefully lay down, my back aching, and turned so I was facing him. He was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. His eyes slowly drifted closed, and I waited until his chest was rising and falling evenly and he had stopped moving before reaching out and slipping my arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. His cheek – the cheek my lips had brushed, I remembered – was lying against my chest. I wondered if he heard my heartbeat in his dreams. Was he dreaming about me? Did he even think about me when he was awake?

 

I kissed the top of his spiky head, then shivered. When had I become so bold?

 

…When had I become so in love?

 

[Batman]

CAREFUL WHERE YOU STAND

(by Sara)

 

CHAPTER 3

 

 

NOTE: Told from Jonny's POV

 

When I woke up, it was slowly. My consciousness returned to me in soft, warm waves, and for that I was grateful. The minute I did open my eyes and roll over in bed, a lanky, sharp-elbowed, fuzzy headed, extremely hyper beast was upon me.

 

“JONNY!” Chris bellowed, shaking me. “It’s nearly one in the afternoon!”

 

I stared blearily up at him. “Yes, and?”

 

“You missed all the good stuff! We had breakfast at some place down the road. I brought you pancakes and fruit but it got all… soggy.” Chris nodded his head at a paper bag on the table. “D’you still want it?”

 

I shook my head. “Nah… Thanks, though.”

 

He grinned widely. “And then Guy nearly got some girl’s phone number. They figured out who we were, so we ran then.”

 

“No autographs for the adoring fans?” I rubbed my eyes and grinned a little.

 

Chris slapped my arm in that playful way of his and sat back on his heels. “I thought you were dead. You sleep like… like a dead person.” He blinked and laughed.

 

“Do I?” I sat up and stretched, and was in the middle of rubbing the back of my head when a thought occurred to me. If Chris woke up before I did, and I had fallen asleep holding him…

 

What a bloody idiot I was. Why the hell didn’t I think about what would happen in the morning? Chris was the earliest riser I’d ever known. I was definitely not a morning person. So why didn’t I think that he’d wake up before I did and find himself trapped in my arms?

 

My heart dropped, and I cautiously glanced up at Chris’s face. He was watching me curiously. My heart dropped, flipped, and leapt into my throat.

 

Christ almighty, he knew.

 

“What?” I said irritably.

 

“You’ve been acting strange these last couple days,” he commented mysteriously, pulling his legs out from under him and crossing them. He played with the stitching of the comforter. “Is it the touring?”

 

I shrugged as casually as I could. “Maybe. Dunno.”

 

“But you’ve always been the level-headed one, Jon, and I’m worried about what happens if you go crazy like the rest of us.” He grinned at me, but it wasn’t quite a laughing grin. Chris was uncertain.

 

I shook my head and sat back on the pillow. “I’ll never be as crazy as you and Will. You two just want to have fun. Guy… Well, Guy has a problem with responsibility. But it’s okay, right? We handle it all right. Don’t we?”

 

Chris lowered his eyes. “Yeah, you’re right.”

 

I relaxed a little, recognizing the tone in his voice. Chris had inquired and not gotten the answer he wanted, but he knew the conversation was over. I was grateful, at least, for that.

 

“So, ah…” I sat forward again and Chris glanced at me. “Have you got lunch yet?”

 

He shook his head, and the charming smile returned. “Nah, not yet.”

 

“How about it then?”

 

“Sounds good. But, er…” He raised an eyebrow.

 

“What?” I glanced at him warily. What now?

 

“You should probably… you know… put some pants on.”

 

I knocked him upside the head.

 

- - -

 

Chris rounded up Guy and Will and the four of us took the clumsy van to an “upscale diner” about seven blocks away from the motel. I was thrilled to discover the portions were enormous, but the other three weren’t so pleased, having eaten only a few hours ago.

 

Chris was the kind that could eat whenever, whatever, and not gain anything. He was tall and gangly but he had a petite frame, with relatively small wrists and feet. But no matter what he ate, it mysteriously dropped off his body and was never to be seen again. We would have deep, meaningful conversations about why Chris lacked any body fat. For instance:

 

“I dunno. Maybe it goes to his butt, and we just can’t see it there,” Guy remarked after Chris had left to go to the bathroom, taking a bite of his rather huge burger.

 

Will shook his head, swiping a french fry from my plate. “Can’t be that. I’ve seen his arse. It’s a barely-there sort of thing.”

 

We laughed, though I secretly wondered how exactly had Will gotten a chance to see Chris’s butt.

 

“I bet it goes to his brain.” Guy wagged a finger as if this were the most genius statement he had ever produced. “That’s why he writes so many damn songs all the time.”

 

“Maybe it just goes in one end and out the other,” Will suggested.

 

“That’s gross!” I scolded, throwing a french fry at him. Will attempted to catch it with his mouth but it went down the front of his sweatshirt.

 

“No, no, really,” Guy said. “But which end?”

 

Will and I stared at him.

 

“Front or back?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

 

“You mean…” Will blinked.

 

“If you two don’t stop this disgusting immature conversation right now, I’m going to dump my drink on your heads, retrieve Christopher, and leave,” I told them in my most menacing voice. They laughed at me, just as Chris was sliding into the booth next to me.

 

“What’d I miss?” he asked, taking a french fry from my plate. I whined and tried to steal it back from him but he slipped it in his mouth. I had a momentary dirty thought: I wouldn’t mind getting it back from him now – perhaps with my tongue?

 

But then I looked at his innocent, unaware, unguarded face and felt guilty. I turned my burning face down to my plate and picked at my sandwich.

 

We left soon after that – I think Will must’ve paid – and I didn’t participate in the conversation. I kept glancing nervously at Chris, thinking, ‘What if he knows? What if he’s told Guy and Will about it? What do they think of me? No… I don’t care what they think of me. I only care what he thinks.’

 

And it was true, unfortunately. The more I turned it over in my mind, the more I realized that Will’s and Guy’s didn’t matter to me. But if Chris found out about the way I felt… if he was disgusted or offended or scared or… I don’t know…

 

What if he hated me?

 

I looked at him one more time, and nearly jumped when our eyes locked. He had been looking at me already. And when our stares touched, he didn’t look away; he kept gazing at me with that hooded, mysterious look of his.

 

I turned my eyes away first, ashamed and uncomfortable. I wished I was anywhere but here. I wished I hadn’t had to look back at him that one time, I wished I hadn’t fallen in love with the bastard.

 

‘I’m such a bloody fool.’ I rested my head on the window. ‘He doesn’t know. He hasn’t told anyone. He doesn’t hate me.’

 

I paused to glance into the rearview mirror. I saw Guy’s bright smile. Will was telling him a crude joke.

 

‘He doesn’t love me, either,’ I reminded myself. I turned my eyes away. I didn’t raise them again.

 

I couldn’t meet his eyes. I couldn’t.

 

 

CHAPTER 4

 

 

NOTE: Told from Chris's POV. TOTALLY LAME-O.

 

I zipped my jacket up as far as it would go, cursing at Guy heatedly. The snow was coming down in sheets – wall after wall of wet, cold whiteness. It was piled on the ground nearly up to my ankles already, and it wormed its evil way into my sneakers and melted on my formerly warm and dry socks.

 

“Fucking hell,” I hissed as I fastidiously yanked open the hood of the old Buick. It coughed and sputtered again, and I leapt back. I could hear Will having a laugh at my expense from inside the warmth of the car. I gave him the finger, but he only laughed harder.

 

It must’ve been something like twenty, fifteen degrees out. The snow was relentless, and we were on some stupid dirt road that was covered in ice and our only means of transportation in this God-forsaken tiny little town that I had never even heard of – nearly 90 miles west of Bath – had just crapped out on us, and the other three ******s had sent me out to see what the hell was wrong. As if I knew a bleeding thing about cars.

 

I squinted through the torrent of snow and shook my head at Guy. “What’m I looking for?” I shouted. He turned his hands palm-up, as if to say, “How the fuck should I know?”

 

Well, thank you, Mr. Resourceful.

 

I sighed dramatically and shivered inside my coat, cupping my hands over my mouth and blowing my breath over my freezing fingers. Not much help.

 

I heard the car door open and slam, and Jonny clambered through the snow and joined me. I huddled close to him, but he shied away.

 

“Out of my way,” he said gruffly. “Get back in the car, you fool, you’ll freeze.”

 

 

I wanted to kick him for being such an uptight bastard but I doubted I could kick very hard anyway on account I couldn’t really feel my toes. So I dove back into the car and buried my hands into the warmth of my jacket. The heat trapped in the car was fading, but our collective body heat had fogged up the windows.

 

“Think he’ll be able to fix it?” I asked after my teeth stopped chattering.

 

“He fucking better,” Will retorted. I squinted out through the snow. Jonny seemed to certainly know what he was doing.

 

“We’re gonna be really late,” Guy mourned. I slapped his shoulder, annoyed.

 

“At least we get there at all,” I told him. “I’d much rather be late than freeze to death on this little hick-town road.”

 

Guy shrugged and pointed at Jonny. “Looks like he’s done it.”

 

Jonny slammed the hood and gave Guy a signal. He turned the key, and the engine whined and coughed once or twice, then turned with a satisfying roar.

 

“All right then!” I cheered, then leaned over and turned up the heat as far as it would go.

 

Jonny heaved himself into the car, bringing a sweep of cold air. Will, Guy and I congratulated him, but he just shrugged it off and brushed snow from his jacket.

 

I eyed him in the rear view, wondering just what exactly had gotten into him. I knew something odd was going on, but I couldn’t put my finger on it – which was worrisome. Jonny was not an extremely complicated guy. He had his moods, but they were easily readable. I mean, if eyes were windows to the soul, then Jonny’s eyes were like six-foot bay windows. You could see anything in them, and that’s why he was more of a relief to be around. Will was just a flat line, and Guy was always smiling. You couldn’t see past their masks. But Jonny wasn’t afraid to open his heart.

 

But lately, it seemed as if he was afraid; he hadn’t talked to me in weeks. He hadn’t talked to anyone in weeks. He was less cheery, more awkward, more businesslike, less… well, less Jonny-like. And it bothered me, because he had always been the shoulder I would lean on. Except now he treated me like some unwanted burden.

 

But was that what he really felt?

 

Because certain things he had said to me… the way he sometimes looked at me… Sometimes he would convince me completely otherwise: that he loved me, that he would die for me, that he would spend the rest of his life by my side. But the way he was acting towards me now certainly didn’t seem like it.

 

I remembered back a few months, to the night I had spent in his arms. That was when I knew something other than friendship was growing – but had I been wrong?

 

Jonny must’ve thought I was asleep, otherwise he never would have gathered me in his arms as tenderly as he did, or kissed me on the head, or lay down with me as if we were an old married couple. And I couldn’t figure it out – I couldn’t tell from the way he acted if he remembered it or was trying to forget it. And I didn’t know how I felt about it at all. And I couldn’t ask him; that would be too awkward.

 

I nearly kicked the dashboard in frustration. Guy gave me an odd sideways look.

 

“Chris? You okay over there?”

 

I rubbed my eyes wearily. “I’m fine, mate. Sorry. Just… a little stressed out.”

 

“S’okay.” He patted my shoulder. “We’ll be there soon. We’ll play, mingle a bit, and then get some sleep.”

 

Play, mingle a bit, then go to some hotel and fall asleep in stiff, foreign beds. Wake up, drive in ice and snow and bitter cold to our next gig, play, mingle a bit, and go to another nondescript, unremarkable, bland hotel and fall asleep again in boxy, squeaky beds. I couldn’t hold back the heavy sigh. When had I become so depressing?

 

Jonny must have known what I was thinking, because he reached forward and squeezed my other shoulder. That one touch gave me all the comfort I needed. When he took his hand away, there was a cold spot, and I rubbed it a little. I wanted to thank him or something, but that would seem odd, so I tried to catch his eye in the rearview mirror. He wouldn’t look at me.