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

[coldplayer#16]

Coldplay in Wonderland

 

Part 28:

 

 

 

WARNING: if you are allergic to/dislike mush and stuff that seems to make absolutely NO SENSE, I suggest you not open the other spoiler and just skip this chapter. Moving on, forgive any typos, and on with the story:

 

 

 

The Hatter's blush was deep and spread from ear to ear, he was speachless. Chris ended up losing it, falling onto the bed, arms crossed around his stomach, laughing so hard it almost hurt. He'd never seen anyone do anything like that before, so it was pretty funny to him.

 

"Are you going to answer me or what?" Tori asked, letting the jacket go.

 

She got nothing from the mad man at first, it took him a minute to process what had just happened. He sighed and smiled, "You're good, I must admit, how long could you hear us?"

 

"I was up when Chris grabbed my hand, before you even showed."

 

The rabbit's laughter came to an abrupt stop, "You what?!"

 

The Hatter laughed, "So, you heard everything?"

 

"Yes sir, but jealous of a 16 year old girl, and you're how old?"

 

"Older than I look, dear child, and I've been with Chris for longer than you think too."

 

The girl took a moment to think about what the mad man said, "How old are you guys?!"

 

"Well, if I'm honest, I'm a freak of nature, I'm older than Charles Dodgson-"

 

"YOU'RE OLDER THAN LOUIS CARROLL?!" Tori exclaimed.

 

The mad man smiled, "Glad to see you know your authors, but if you'd let me finish, I pre-date his story, not the man. I was a young man when I discovered this place, cast out of my job as one of the top tailors because of my side job as a hatter, the mercury destroyed my mind and on one of my trips out and about, I stumbled into the same hole you came here through.

 

"I figured how to preserve my age, created a home, and served as a loyal servant to the king and queen. I would be long dead on the surface, but my age was preserved whenever I returned. I saw how England changed, saw many amazing things, and also horrid ones.

 

"I'm not about to go into it, but as for Chris . . . well, his age in human years isn't too far off from his current form."

 

"But you said that-" Chris cut in, but he cut off when he received a sharp look from the Hatter. Chris sank in his seat and let the mad man go on.

 

"If you'd listened I said in human years you're just a teenage boy, not even 18 yet. However, since you're not really a human, you retain your age the same way I do, you probably would have croaked by now as well. This is all true for Phil as well, we're all much older than we seem."

 

"Looks are deceiving," Tori managed to say, "but that still doesn't answer why-"

 

"You stole my man and I don't share well, okay?"

 

"You could've just said that," Tori said.

 

"Right, well, I've been thoroughly embarrassed in less than ten or so minutes, and I'd like to try and regain some of my dignity, even if it be by falsehoods, by drowning myself in tea and treats. I'll be in my quarters if you need me." The Hatter turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him and leaving Chris and Tori alone.

 

Neither of them knew quite what to say, Tori was still taking in all the information and Chris . . . well, he was doing the same. It took him a little less time though, and he looked over at the girl and hugged her.

 

When Chris didn't get an answer, no hug in return or even a look, he leaned in and kissed her cheek, "You okay?"

 

Tori sighed, "Yeah, it's still just a lot to take in, this place is so weird."

 

The rabbit laughed, "Well, maybe for you," he tightened his grip a little bit, "you still aren't convincing me though."

 

Tori smiled and wrapped her arms around him, curling into him and smiling. Chirs smiled, kissing the girl's forehead and then nuzzling her. Tori started laughing again, but she broke away from the rabbit's grip.

 

"Convinced now?" Tori asked.

 

Chris smiled at her, "No," he leaned in and kissed her, "I'm not."

 

Tori smiled and hugged him again, pressing her lips up to his, "Now?"

 

Chris laughed and kissed her one more time, "Mostly."

 

"You just want attention again, don't you?"

 

"That's only part of it, something's still bothering you, huh?"

 

The girl's shoulders tensed and she looked from the rabbit, a slight blush on her cheeks, "I'm not quite sure how to approach it."

 

Chris looked at her, an eye brown raised, "So . . ."

 

"I guess what I'm getting at is that-" the girl side and took a minute to think, "you're not off the hook either."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"I mean, as much as I got out of the Hatter, you said something that's kinda put me off as well."

 

"How so?"

 

"I mean, you said- even if it's been a day you-"

 

Chris knew what she was getting at, but he saw things from her point of view, and as embarrassing it was, he just laughed and hugged her, "Was it really that bad to hear that? I mean, I said it may have only been about a day, but-"

 

Tori wrapped her arms around him again and laughed, "It seems so daft now that I think about it."

 

"I was talking to J anyway, but I know it may have been a bit fast of me, but I- . . . I dunno, I just . . . you're right, I think it's kinda silly now too, but I mean, I-"

 

Tori just smiled, "You got a chance to say how you actually felt, and I guess since the Hatter was way before me, it makes sense."

 

"You feel a bit better now?"

 

"A little, and as crazy as I think it is that the Hatter's right, the suit fits."

 

"Wait, you mean that? So what if I said that word, but like I said, it may be too soon to say that but I- I uh . . . You're not upset?"

 

"Why would I be?" she asked, kissing him, "I think it's sweet."

 

Chris laughed and started nuzzling the girl, getting her to laugh again, but he kissed her cheek and just cuddled her. He felt her lips up to his again and she smiled at him, "Love my bunny boy."

 

 

[coldplayer#16]

Coldplay in Wonderland

 

Part 29:

 

 

 

Forgive all typos and blah blah blah, STORY!:

 

Chris couldn't quite process everything at first, he never ever would have even thought of saying that word out loud if he'd known she was listening, but at least he knew she felt the same. 

 

Tori felt the rabbit's arms tighten around her, "I- I know I may have spoken too soon, but you have no idea how happy I am to know that."

 

She laughed and pulled away from him, "You are right though, love is a strong word, and-" she cut off short, feeling Chris's lips press up to hers again.

 

"It fits, though, you said so yourself."

 

"I was quoting the Hatter."

 

"But you agreed." Tori didn't know quite how to answer, but Chris laughed and hugged her again, "I'm glad you're okay." She smiled and blushed, cuddling into the rabbit again and letting out a heavy sigh. Chris lifted away and looked at her, "What's on your mind now?"

 

"Just . . . being here, what about back home, how long have I been gone, how do I know that these scratches won't show when I return, how do I know I won't be killed?!"

 

Chris sighed and thought, "Well, I can tell you not long has passed on the surface, you'll be back home the same day you left, I promise you that, and the Hatter will be sure you're in the same condition we brought you here in, and Will as well. As for that last part, trust the dagger, I guess."

 

"What time is it now, anyway?"

 

"Time for you to get a watch," the rabbit answered, "luckily for you though, I have mine." Tori rolled her eyes and the rabbit flipped the lid to the pocket watch open, "Quarter passed five, dinner should be ready soon."

 

"Dinner?"

 

"Yes, dinner, you know, food? Biggest meal of the day?"

 

"No duh, but I mean, what kinds of food do you have here? All I've had today was cereal, coffee, sweets, and some water. And some tea as well, but I don't know if it counts because it was spiked more than once."

 

Chris laughed, "Well, I guess a proper meal is in order, huh?"

 

"Well, yeah, but I mean . . . is food the same here as it is on the surface?"

 

"I dunno, I only eat so much, but from what Jon has told me, the veggies are pretty much the same, and the fruit. Well, there are some different ones, but I'm sure there's something that will suit your fancy."

 

"What about meat?"

 

"Tori, what did I just say?"

 

"I know, I know, but I was just curious."

 

"If you really want to know," they heard, "it's far different." Phil appeared at the door, smiling at the two.

 

"How long have you been there?" Chris asked.

 

"Just got here, I swear, just heard the food questions, nothing more."

 

"Well then answer them, please," Tori said.

 

"Alright, no need to be snippy, but since I'm no herbivore, nor a game animal," Chris shot the cat a dirty look, just the reaction he wanted, "I can say the meat is different. Fish are, anyway, surface fish are rather bland if I'm honest."

 

"How so?" Tori asked, "How much have you tried?"

 

"Jon's brought me some of the surface fish, fried and also some he caught and prepared himself, but they aren't quite the same. Surface fish only have one flavor, there's no differential as you eat."

 

"Different flavored fish, I mean, those that change flavor as you eat them?"

 

"Oh, you haven't tried anything until you've had some, it's just amazing!"

 

"Yeah, well, how about other meat?" Chris asked, "Canibal."

 

"Oh hush," the cat said, walking over to the two, "Will actually sent me for you two, you were right, dinner is almost ready. Ican take you downstairs if you're not up to walking."

 

"No, no, I'm fine," Tori said, "I'm sure I can make it."

 

"Fair enough, what about you?" Phil asked, annoying the rabbit.

 

"I can manage," Chris said, tone flat.

 

"Alright, I'll see you downstairs," the cat said, disappearing.

 

It was quiet for a minute, but then Tori got up, "Well, shall we?"

 

"We shall," Chirs said, standing up and stretching. Tori smiled and held out a hand, and once Chris put his arms down, he smiled and took it. He laced his fingers through hers and the two headed for the dining room. 

 

The dining room was enormous, more like a hall than a room, but there was an array of food set on the table with places set for the royal family and their guests. Tori couldn't tell some of the dishes, but it was still food, and most of what was set was very familiar. Chicken, pork, assorted vegetables and fruits, all in an amazing display which made the girl's mouth water.

 

"I didn't know what you'd want," came a voice, "I did my best to find surface dishes, and with the Hatter's help, we got the chefs to come up with this." It was the king, and soon came four brightly colored orbs surrounding him, "Dear, I believe we're ready to dine, don't you?"

 

"Indeed," the queen said, growing out from one the orbs, "Children."

 

The other three orbs went to  a seat at the table, the princesses and prince appearing and sitting in their spots. The Hatter came out and took his spot, Phil sitting across from him. Chris moved to the chair next to the Hatter, pulling out the one next to his for Tori. The girl smiled and took her spot, Chris following and taking his.

 

"Daddy, what's this thing?" the prince asked, pointing to the chicken.

 

"Try it," Tori said, taking the knife and cutting off a leg for him, "It's delicious, I promise."

 

"Is it surface food?"

 

"Yes, and you got one of the best parts."

 

"What part?"

 

"The leg, dark meat."

 

"Dark meat?"

 

"Yeah, dark meat. Have you seriously never had chicken before?"

 

"Victoria, you and I are the only people here that have," the Hatter said, "The dishes we know and have had for years as humans are new to everyone else, and I suggest you mot start him off with a leg."

 

"Why not?!" the prince shouted, "I wanna try it!"

 

"Okay, first, never call me Victoria again, it's Tori, and second," the girl moved the leg to her plate, "I'll share and let you try it, okay?"

 

The prince reached his plate out and Tori placed a bit of meat on it. His sisters followed, and Tori just laughed and split more pieces off for the two girls. There was only half left, and she saw Phil staring at the bird.

 

"You've never had it either, Phil?" Tori asked, holding up the rest. The cat shook his head, "Give me your plate, the rest of this can be yours."

 

"Don't you want it?" the cat asked.

 

"Not to sound selfish or rude, but if I have a leg, I want a whole one."

 

"So you only give me half?"

 

"You've never had it, you don't know if you'll like it or not," the girl smirked, "I know I already do, and if I gave you a whole one and you hated it, it would be a waste."

 

"She has a point," the Hatter said.

 

"See? Now, plate," Tori said, giving the cat the rest of the meat.

 

Tori could see the children didn't quite like the chicken, but they had made themselves plates, so had their parents. Chris ate with gusto, enjoying his meal, veggies and fruits filled his plate. The Hatter had gotten other bits of pretty much everything offered, which he was munching down happily.

 

"Right," the girl muttered to herself, fixing a plate for herself. She was amazed by how much was offered and how great it tasted, but soon enough it was mostly gone. There were scraps, but what was left was taken care of by the king.

 

"How, how was it?" The Hatter asked, "same as at home?"

 

"It was delicious, thank you," Tori said, "Why do you ask?"

 

"Who do you think made it? These people don't know the first thing about surface food."

 

"You did the chicken?"

 

"Yes, and other dishes, thank you, I may be mad but that doesn't mean I can't cook."

 

"I didn't say that."

 

"Right, well, I'll leave you be, I wonder where Chris ran off to?"

 

"He's mine, you said."

 

"I was sharing, and I even said I wasn't good at it, being mad and an 'Indian Giver' are both titles I hold."

 

"Right, I need some time alone anyway."

 

"You okay?"

 

"Why do you care?"

 

"Can't show concern?"

 

"No, no, it's fine, I'm just curious, I thought you'd hate me."

 

The mad man laughed, "Hate is a strong word, and it's several sit sizes away from being right. In fact, it's like a left boot trying to fit on a right foot, it just doesn't fit. I may have been slightly . . . envious of the affection Chris has for you, but I'm past that."

 

"Mostly," Tori laughed, to which the Hatter rolled his eyes.

 

"Look, I don't hate you, Chris and I have a job and that's to make sure you're safe and protected and-"

 

"It's a job?"

 

"More or less, more like one we've adopted since you arrived. So, are you okay?"

 

Tori took a minute before she answered, "Yeah, I just need some air."

 

"Absolutely not," came Will's voice, "After earlier, I don't want yu out there alone."

 

"Fine, then where can I go to at least be alone with my thoughts?" Tori asked.

 

"Well, Jon, show her to Chris's quarters, it's right by yours, so you can watch over her."

 

"Well, I don't think she needs to be under constant supervision," the Hatter said, "besides, I don't know where Chris is and shouldn't he have a say in this?"

 

"True, but-"

 

"Oh, all of you shut up," a voice said, "she's coming with me." The queen appeared and smiled at the girl, "Come along, dear, let's get you cleaned up."

 

[Destrokk]

Living the Life Yellow Crayon :)

 

 

It was kindergardne time at the playhouse disney with baby chris and ababy johnny it was nighttime too

-agoo chris give me tha t guitar- jony said

- no jony haha- chris

-why bitch-¿ jonny said

- cos!! - chrus replied

 

then baby gwyneth cam ecrwling with her nails all pink

- chris give jonny his guitar!!- gwyneth said

- no but i cant because its mine- chris

said

- johnny said- "i will steal that guitar"

 

chris and jonny lock eachothers eyes in a dungeon and grab both of their pennies and

"chris that hurst lol!"

!lets use nuettall again hehhee

"okay well in todays lesson i learned that we should share our stuff"

 

part 2 coming up

 

 

[Viva_La_Coldplay]

-

[coldplayer#16]

Coldplay in Wonderland

 

Part 30:

 

 

 

Small warning in advance, this is kinda long and not quite as normal as the story used to be, but . . . well you'll see. Forgive any typos and whatnot, on with the story:

 

 

Tori smiled and started to follow the queen when she saw her turn around, "Hatter, come along, just for a moment, her clothing is a wreck and, if you don't mind-"

 

"It's what I do, ma'am," the Hatter smiled, "not a problem, not at all."

 

"Thank you, you know where we'll be." The queen took Tori's hand and flew off. 

 

"She's headed to the baths, isn't she?" the Hatter asked.

 

"Yes, yes she is and-" the wheels in the king's head began turning and his face was blank with a forming idea.

 

"Will, you okay?" the Hatter asked.

 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," the king replied with a smile, "You know how you'd bandaged Chris up earlier, his entire upper body covered up?"

 

"Yeah, what about it?" The king just smiled and let the mad man figure it out on his own, which he did shortly after, "Oh no, no way, I know I told you to start thinking like a mad man but-"

 

"Oh, what's the matter Jon? Afraid of female anatomy?"

 

"She is a teenager!"

 

"Yeah, so what's your point?"

 

"God, I swear, you've been hanging around me too much," the mad man said, "How do you expect me to get her to accept the idea?"

 

"You don't, you surprise her," the king smiled.

 

"How do you think I won't end up with a broken set of balls?"

 

"I'll give you a couple of mirror clones, no big deal, you explain it to her once she's all wrapped up."

 

"But why do I have to do it?"

 

"Because, first off, you're the only person I know-"

 

"No shit."

 

"You know what I mean, that can wrap up someone in an incredibly short amount of time, and two, it'll fit with the plan."

 

"How so?"

 

"I'll explain once your done, and one more thing, get her clothes to match Chris's."

 

"Why?"

 

"Think about it."

 

The gears in the Hatter's head took a minute to all work together properly, and then it hit him, "Oh, you mean for-"

 

"Yes," the king smiled.

 

"You, sir, are out thinking a mad man, just like your dad."

 

"Well, I try."

 

"And you succeed. Just one problem I can foresee."

 

"Oh?"

 

"Chris. He's very protective and rabbits tend to have an amazing sense of hearing. I don't know where he's run off to, but if he hears an uproar and Tori screaming, he will become cross. Not only that, with me there . . . can you see a problem?"

 

"Explain it to him first," the king said flatly.

 

"How do you expect me to do that if I don't know where he is?"

 

"Find him."

 

"And if I can't in the right amount of time?"

 

"How do you know he won't just figure it out?"

 

"It takes him a minute to process things, Will, I'm not saying he's slow, but when he becomes cross, he-"

 

"I know what happens, I remember last time, I'll find him and tell him. But first," the king put his hands together, facing the mad man, and then split them apart, palms facing out. Two more Mad Hatter's  were produced, "You have your team, now, get to work."

 

The three Hatter's nodded and the original dug in his hand for the wrapping, handing it to one of them and then running off in the same direction, to the baths.

 

"Thank God for that man," Will muttered to himself, wandering off to find the rabbit.

 

Chris was in a very predictable spot, the kitchen, his attention turned to the chefs as they mixed batter together and were setting out sheets of cookies to cool.

 

"Christopher, you're not impeding on progress in here, are you?" the king asked, surprising the rabbit.

 

Chris turned and smiled, his face with patches of flour and the bandages on his arms with very similar splatters of flour, powdered sugar, and small bits of dough. 

 

The king couldn't help but laugh, and one of the chefs cut in and said, "He's been a good bunny, your majesty, very helpful."

 

"Made a batch all by myself," the rabbit said proudly, pointing to two of the cooling trays lined with cocolate chip cookies.

 

"Thank you, Chris," Will said with a smile, "Get washed up, I have to talk to you for a moment. Nothing bad, but just to talk."

 

"Yeah, sure," Chris said, hopping up and headed to the sink. He washed off the flour and other small stains, heading out of the kitchen with the king.

 

Will then began to explained what was going on, most ofnit Chris didn't totally understand, but he was told he'd understand it soon enough.

 

Tori, meanwhile, was down in the castle's basement, enjoying a hot bath. She was covered with dirt and scratches, a wick bath wouldn't have killed her. And it didn't, it actually felt quite nice. The queen was in the opposite bath with the two princesses, trying to get her children to behave and let her wash them.

 

"Aren't they old enough to have a bath by themselves?" Tori asked.

 

"Yeah, but this is honestly a sad mother's excuse to have a bath. I never have time to usually, and the girls don't mind, besides, Eva is usually in your tub."

 

"I apologize for invading, but-"

 

"My dear girl, you're fine, enjoy it."

 

"Yeah, besides, you're new," said the younger of the two girls.

 

"Yeah, and?" Tori asked.

 

The little girl shrugged, "I dunno, mummy and daddy bring in new people a lot, I just know to be nice to 'em. So, if a bath is being nice, then okay."

 

Tori laughed at the little girls logic, "How old are you?"

 

"Four."

 

"Her name's Juno," said the other girl, "I'm Eva."

 

"I kinda figured," Tori said, "and how old are you?"

 

"Six."

 

Tori smiled, "You guys are only a few years younger than my little brother, he's ten."

 

"How old are you?" Juno asked.

 

"Much older than you are," Tori said, "I'm sixteen."

 

"And mummy's age will not be mentioned," the queen said with a laugh, "now come on, out of the tub, time to get dressed and see if there's any dessert. Hopefully your father's bathed your brother."

 

"Probably not," Eva said, "he's very busy."

 

"I know dear, I know, I just-"

 

There was a high screaming and in came the naked prince, climbing into the tub with his mother, "Daddy told me to get clean."

 

The queen sighed and let the girls out of the tub, letting her son get himself cleaned up.

 

Tori laughed, "Nothing new with this one."

 

"Pardon?" the queen asked, now wrapped up in a towel and washing her son's hair.

 

"My brother used to do that when he was little. If I was in the bath, he'd run in and want to get clean as well. He stopped at about five, but still."

 

"Yes well, it's daddy's job to wash you, isn't it?" the queen said, looking at the little boy.

 

"Uh huh," the prince said, "but daddy said he had battle plans to make with the pyscho-man!"

 

"The Hatter?" Tori asked.

 

"Yeah!"

 

"He's not psycho, he's mad."

 

"Isn't it the same thing?"

 

Tori thought about it and he had a point, "Well, sort of, but he's the Mad Hatter, mostly knows how to keep himself. Psychos don't." The girl reached for her towel and the queen covered her son's eyes.

 

"There's a fresh set of clothing in the changing room for you, dear," the queen said.

 

"Thank you very much, your majesty," Tori said with a smile.

 

The little prince waved at her and his mother rolled her eyes, but Tori laughed and waved back. She went into the changing room, seeing the princesses had already gone, and she found her new change of clothing. She got her trousers and everything else on, I'm not going into details, obviously, but just before she'd put on her blouse, she heard the door creak open.

 

"Rex, your majesty?" the girl asked. She felt something suddenly wrap around her torso, suddenly dragging her back and wrapping her up in something. She didn't know what it was until she saw who it was at the door, the mad man.

 

"Hello, child," he said, "I'm sorry  but-" his sentence was cut off, Tori raised a fist and struck upward at the underside of the mad man's chin. He suddenly burst into smoke, another one taking his place and wrapping her up in another layer of bandage. He was behind her again, and Tori swung around and rammed her knee into the new mad man's crotch. He winced and disappeared into another burst of smoke.

 

The girl was in a coughing fit, only her chest was covered, but that wasn't quite enough. Another layer of bandages came, this one covering her entire upper body, and she ended up by the real Hatter.

 

"What in God's name are you doing?!" the girl said, squirming to get away.

 

"Relax, relax, this is to help us, and you in a way, so hold still while I secure this," the mad man said, trying to tighten the fabric and tie it into place.

 

"What are you trying to do, make a boy?!" Tori snapped, still squirming and ignoring the Hatter.

 

"Sort of, but if you'd just hold still I'd explain!"

 

Tori sighed, "Fine, but tell me this, why did you have to sneak up on me?!"

 

"Reasons," the Hatter said, finishing up, "I didn't want to do this, I swear."

 

"Right," the girl said, tracing the mad man, "can I finish getting dressed now?"

 

"Yeah, yeah, but meet me outside, I have a lot to explain to you."

 

"Joy, more craziness," the girl said, getting the new shirt around her shoulders, "well, we're here, talk."

 

"P-pardon?!" the mad man said, wide-eyed. 

 

"Talk damn it, we're here, TALK!"

 

"Button up first, for God's sake," the Hatter said, a slight blush on his cheeks. This was way out of his comfort zone, he never understood women, he could hardly understand himself sometimes, but that's the price of mercury poisoning your brain.

 

Tori buttoned up and walked past the Hatter to the door, "Are you coming or what."

 

"Yeah, and look, I didn't want to do this."

 

"I can tell, but that still doesn't explain to me WHY you wrapped me up and are giving me a 'Y' instead of an 'I' at the end of my name."

 

"You'll see soon enough," the Hatter said, "be warned though, Will may put me up to something like this again, and if and when he does, I'm sorry in advance."

 

"Okay?" Tori said, "Are you not allowed to tell me why or something."

 

"Simply put, yes."

 

"Well then why'd you say we had to talk?"

 

The Hatter thought a moment and then he remembered, "I am allowed to tell you, actually, we need doubles."

 

"What?"

 

"Look a-likes, dear, you'll see why later."

 

"Okay, is that why my shirt is white now?"

 

"Indeed."

 

Tori took a minute to process everything, and then a thought occurred, "Where's Chris?"

 

"Beats me."

 

"You don't know?"

 

"Obviously not."

 

"He's okay, he's run off to his chambers for a bit," came the king's voice, "nicely done with the wrapping, Hatter."

 

The Hatter just looked down and blushed slightly, "Still don't know why I had to do that, I could've just asked."

 

"Right, but then you would have had to explain more," Will said, "Tori, can we talk?"

 

"Of course," the girl said, "What's on your mind?"

 

"Alone," the king said, "Hatter, go check up on Chris, keep him distracted."

 

The Hatter looked at the king and raised an eyebrow, "What? Why do I-" 

 

"No questions."

 

"Look, I better bloody be able to ask you whatever I want of you, I changed your nappies and help raise you, I think a simple explanation of what's going on now is fair!"

 

"Right, but I am your king, and what I say goes,just keep him busy, please?"

 

"I want a reason."

 

"Because of many reasons," the king said, waving a hand over the Hatter and making him disappear.

 

Tori looked at where the Hatter was, back at the king, and then back to where the Hatter was. Her jaw was dropped and her eyes were wide, "Buh- but you, he- just- . . . WHAT?!"

 

"The Hatter was a bit of a nanny to me and my brother when we were little, when my parents were busy, they trusted him more than they did the nurse."

 

"Why?"

 

"I haven't the slightest idea."

 

Tori bit her lip and thought, "Where'd you send him?"

 

"To Chris."

 

"Thought so, and what do you need to talk to me about?"

 

"Well," the king snapped his fingers and the two went to a new room. It looked like a study, there were books lining the walls, a desk and chair, writing materials, and a few other pieces of furniture strewn about the room.

 

"Where are we?" Tori asked.

 

"Guess," was the king's reply.

 

"Your office?"

 

"Close, my father's."

 

"Don't you use it though?"

 

"Seldomnly," the king said, reaching in his pocket, "you're still curious about what's going on?"

 

"Yeah, I don't see why you need look a-likes."

 

"Like Jon said, you'll see soon enough." The king walked past Tori and kept his back to her, "Another reason we're doing this is to prepare you."

 

"You mean dehumanize me and then rebuild me? Like the army?"

 

"Precisely," the king said, turning around, "You have only been here for so long, and I wish we had gotten you here earlier, I really do."

 

"Why? I think I'm fine."

 

The king laughed, "Oh how wrong you are."

 

"Pardon?"

 

The king pulled his hand out of his pocket and had a pocket knife in his hand, "I'm sorry."

 

"Jon, what's going on, where are we going?!" Chris demanded, trying to catch up with the Hatter's quick pace.

 

"The King's study," the mad man said, "That's where he always goes, I don't know what he's doing but I don't think I like it."

 

"How can you tell?"

 

"He shooed me away, he was in a rush, I don't know what for but-" there was the sound of a high scream coming from around the corner, Tori.

 

"HOLY SHIT HE'S LOST IT!!" the Hatter yelled, darting to the study. Chris was close behind and they saw the door was already open and Tori was darting down the other side of the hall.

 

The Hatter grabbed the sword he'd kept hidden behind his jacket, running into the study, "Will, what did you do?!"

 

"Made your life easier, and proved a point," the king held up a fist full of blond hair, "She's not ready."

 

"How does that make my life easier? And why did you have to do that?!"

 

"You know as well as I do creating a look a-like requires similar physical features, too different and the transformation takes too long. We need it to be fast."

 

"Right, but still!"

 

"We need to buy more time, she's got to be more prepared than she is now."

 

Chris felt sick and was confused, "I still don't know what's going on but-"

 

"Go to her Chris, let the adults talk," the king said.

 

"I am an adult!"

 

"Hardly."

 

Chris ran and jumped, foot extended and inches away from the king's face. Will raised a hand and stopped him midair, "Attacking a monarch? How dare you!" Will flung his hand forward and Chris flew back at the Hatter, sending both of them into the wall.

 

"I know what I'm doing," the king said, "She's not ready, and you two need to relax. I know you two are just looking out for her but-"

 

"It's not just them," came a voice, "I am as well." It was Phil, and he appeared behind the king. He kneed him and brought the king to the ground, arms wrapping around from behind him, claws extended and piercing through the fabric of the royal robes, "You tell us everything that's going on right now or I will rip your torso apart."

 

 

 

Part 31:

 

 

 

"Threats," the king laughed.

 

"Don't test me, boy," Phil hissed, pressing his claws to the king's ribcage.

 

"Such disrespect," Will said with a sigh, "but I know when I'm beat. But I've already told you, it's training."

 

"The he'll kind of training is that then?!" Chris snapped, "She's just a girl!"

 

"Right, but the one who's going to help us and kill that damn demon," Will said, "now, if you let me go, I'll-"

 

"Keep him Phil," the Hatter said, pointing his sword at the king's head, "Consider this treason if you must, but we asked you nicely more than once, and you haven't given us a good answer. I can't just pull your ear and talk stern to you like when you were a boy, explain your reasoning for all that you've done."

 

The king laughed, "I thought you would have thought it out by now, Jon."

 

"I don't know everything, you know that, now, explain."

 

"Fine, but like I've said, it's training. I know a girl's hair is one of those things you shouldn't mess with, but if we need a look a-like and need one fast-"

 

"You've gone over this," the Hatter said, "I think I understand that part, but why with the sneaking up and secrecy?"

 

"Do you really think she'd listen to reason in this case, right now she's probably run back to the infirmary and is bawling her eyes out-"

 

"THANKS TO YOU!!" Chris snapped.

 

"Let me finish," Will said, "It's a mental thing, and emotion. She's got to anticipate that things are changing and that's she's  warrior now."

 

"Toughening her brain up? That is the most pathetic thing I've ever heard," the Hatter said.

 

"WHAT IS GOING ON?!" they heard from the end of the hall. The four turned their heads and saw the king, another one, standing in shock.

 

"Wait a minute, but I thought, you-" the Hatter said.

 

The trapped king laughed, "You fools, you really thought I was that fool of a king?!"

 

"Should have known it was you," the Hatter said.

 

The trapped king's body transformed and it was a woman, her hair dark and eyes red, "Hello, Jon, long time no see."

 

"Will, how'd she get out?"

 

"How do you think?" the real king said, "I was through interrogation and suddenly she turned into me and fooled my men, just she did you."

 

"Very clever," the Hatter said with a smile, "So, Stella, tell me, why are you working for him?"

 

"The real king will rise, and this fool will fall," the woman said, "Now that your little hero is a wreck, she's not going to rebound so easy. She's in no condition to fight, you know it as well as I do."

 

"She will be," Will said, "Phil, you know what to do."

 

"Oh, this is new," the woman smiled, "killing me? What good does that do you?"

 

"More than you will ever know," Will said, taking the Hatter's sword, "Now, Phil." The cat looked up at the king with disbelief, "That's an order, now!"

 

Phil shut his eyes and sank his claws into the woman's side, ripping up and across in and x-shape across her stomach. She was not dead, but she was laughing, and losing blood at a surprising rate.

 

"You really are a fool," the woman said. Will had had enough of her and moved her so she lay on her back, bringing the sword up and thrusting it down into the woman's body, silencing her forever.

 

"Holy shit," Phil said, looking at the body and his blood stained hands and vest, "Did I really just-"

 

"It was an order, you were doing as you were told," Will said, "I'm sorry you all had to see that."

 

"I didn't see anything," Chris said, moving the Hatter's hands away from his eyes.

 

The Hatter's hand shot back up and covered the rabbit's eyes, "It's best you don't," he said, "let's go find Tori, hmm?"

 

"Jon, I think I can handle seeing some blood."

 

"Let's go!" the Hatter said, pushing the rabbit along with one hand, the other arm covering Chris's eyes.

 

Phil was in shock, shaking slightly, his eye didn't move from his blood stained hands. Will sighed and took the sword out of the body, letting it fall onto the floor, "I am so sorry, Phil. But like I said, I told you to, you were in no wrong."

 

"I just killed someone, I mean, birds and stuff are okay but . . . oh Stella."

 

"She was an ally for the longest time," Will said, "I'm glad my parents fired her and kept Jon as a nanny, she was a horrible nurse."

 

"Think that's why she was working for your brother, trying to get back into royalty?"

 

"She couldn't kill my mother and she couldn't kill me, even with her shape-shifting skills, knowledge of manipulation, and magic."

 

"I need a bath."

 

The king laughed, "An odd thing for a cat to say, but you know where the baths are, I'll clean up in here."

 

"Thank you," Phil said, disappearing immediately after.

 

The Hatter and Chris, meanwhile, were at the infirmary, trying to see if Tori was there. She wasn't, no one had seen her since dinner, minus the queen and the kids, but otherwise it was the Hatter and Chris who had seen her last.

 

"Where could she be?!" Chris said, pacing around and rattling his brain to think of where she could possibly be.

 

"I don't know, do you think she might have run off to your quarters?"

 

"Doubt it, she doesn't know where it is."

 

"Well, we checked the kitchen and dining room, looked all over the infirmary, and she was told not to leave the castle so-"

 

"Wait, you don't think she would have run away, do you?"

 

"Oh, don't think like that, please, she's got to be here somewhere!"

 

"Jon, we've checked everywhere she's been! She's obviously not in the castle. Someone would have seen her if she was and would have told us!"

 

The Hatter thought and then something hit him. He began smiling and laughed, "She's not in the castle, of course she's not!"

 

"Jon, you're acting funny, funnier than normal, what's just clicked in that messed up mind of yours?" Chris asked, confused and more worried now for Tori and the Hatter.

 

"Chris, it's so simple, I know where she is, you were right she DID run away, but not far. She isn't IN the castle, she's outside it!" Chris just looked at him, and the Hatter sighed, "The garden, man, the garden!"

 

Chris's eyes widened and his jaw dropped slightly. He shook his head and sighed, "What if she's not though, I mean-"

 

"Shut up and let's go look!" The Hatter grabbed the rabbit's hand and ran off to the garden's gate, both of them hoping to find Tori.

 

[coldplayer#16]

Coldplay in Wonderland

 

Part 32:

 

 

 

I apologize, I feel like I'm spamming, but I'm on a roll with writing so . . . yep. Forgive any/all typos and on with the story:

 

 

The Hatter and Chris split up for their search, the Hatter heading toward the roses, for obvious reasons, and Chris heading in the opposite direction, towards the baby's breath and other flowers, those he knew didn't hate him. Chris heard something and he followed the noise, but it was not Tori, it was the Oracle.

 

"How'd you get here?" Chris asked.

 

"Hitched a ride," the Oracle said, blowing opium into the rabbit's face, "You look younger."

 

Chris coughed and waved the smoke out of his face, "I am, I guess this is technically how I'm supposed to look, but-"

 

"Yes, yes, why are you out here disturbing my peace?"

 

"Shouldn't you know?"

 

"My title of Oracle puts too much weight on my shoulders, I don't know everything, not yet." She took in more of the drug and blew it back at the rabbit, "So, tell me, why?"

 

"I'm looking for Tori," Chris said between coughs.

 

"She's with the queen," the Oracle said.

 

"Pardon?"

 

"The queen, dear boy, she's with her."

 

"How do you know?"

 

"I know all."

 

"But you just said that-" the caterpillar blew more smoke at the rabbit's face, cutting him off and causing him to go into a coughing fit.

 

"I know what I said, you fool, she came running out here and one of the children grabbed her by manipulating the vines of the ivy, she learned that from her father. The queen ran out and took her back in, putting a blanket over her shoulders and a hanky in hand. The girl took it, poor thing, she looked like a ghost, all pale and cheeks tear stained."

 

Chris's stomach sank, "Did you hear where they were going?"

 

"Check the royal chambers, the king and queen's quarters or possibly the princesses have her in their room, I didn't quite catch it all."

 

"How can I trust you?"

 

"Jon does, so why shouldn't you?"

 

"Jon's been wrong before."

 

"It's true though," came a little voice.

 

"The Oracle's right," came another.

 

It was the surrounding flowers, little lilies and daisies all confirming what the Oracle had said. Chris smiled and thanked the caterpillar, turning and calling for the Hatter.

 

Meanwhile, Tori was in with the queen, sitting on her bed, the blanket still around her shoulders and a cup of tea in hand. The queen had fixed the awkward cut so that the girl's hair was even and didn't look like a mad woman's. 

 

"You're going to be okay, dear," the queen said, "we're here to take care of you. I honestly don't know what got into my husband's mind, but something tells me someone spiked his wine at dinner."

 

"I-I don't think the Hatter would do that," Tori said, sniffling after, "but then again, this is the only non-spiked tea I've had all day."

 

The queen smiled, "Keep telling yourself that, dear, but he did attack you with bandages. Speaking of, why haven't you taken them off?" Tori just shrugged, sipping from the tea cup and looking absolutely miserable.

 

Tori had finished the tea and put it back on the tray, hugging herself and wrapping up in the blanket. She was still in shock over everything that's gone on, the new world, her only reason for being here being absolutely ridiculous from her point of view, and now with the hair and king going nuts, she felt herself starting to feel sick.

 

The queen sighed and put a hand on the girl's shoulder, "I'll be right back, you stay here, okay?" Tori just nodded, the queen taking the tea tray back down to the kitchen.

 

Tori was alone, not a thing around to disturb the quiet, nothing. She suddenly heard something flop onto the bed next to her. She turned and saw it was a stuffed animal, a rabbit, with a tie around its neck. She looked around and didn't understand, where'd it come from? She didn't care at this point, she took it and craddled it, tears swelling in her eyes again.

 

"You haven't seen him since dinner, have you?" she heard, jumping and then turning to see the king sitting next to her.

 

"H-how'd you get in here?"

 

"It's my room, I think I'm allowed."

 

"The door's locked though."

 

"To keep out the kids?"

 

"Yeah, and anyone or thing that shouldn't be here."

 

"Am I one of those someones or things?" Tori raised and eyebrow at him, "Don't answer that, I'm telling you I'm not."

 

"Just get out," the girl said, turning away from him and cuddling the toy again, "you've done enough damage."

 

"That wasn't me though!"

 

Tori shot him the dirtiest look he'd ever gotten, "You think you can lie right to my face? You're so full of it."

 

"Look, I'm being honest, I swear that wasn't me!"

 

"Who was it then, a shape-shifter or something?!"

 

Will looked at the girl, stunned. He'd never seen someone looking so miserable and upset so angry and serious all at the same time, "Well, yes, actually, it was."

 

"You're full of shit."

 

"I'm serious, it was!"

 

"Yeah, okay, right."

 

"I'm serious, did you see that woman we caught, the one who was controlling the trees that were throwing you around?"

 

"No," the girl said, "I didn't see a face and couldn't tell who or what it was."

 

"It was my old nurse, she's a hybrid like me. Shape-shifter and magician, she can use magic and can take any form she pleases, including mine. She was the one who told the Hatter to wrap you up, she was the one who . . . well . . . um . . . did this," he said, running his fingers through the girl's short hair. 

 

Tori swatted his hand away, "You let some crazy shape-shifter loose?!"

 

"I didn't, my men did. They couldn't tell which one of us was me and, I know it sounds stange, but when they saw that they were wrong, they heard you scream and all the commotion that followed."

 

"Is she back in prison or whatever?" Will bit his lip trying to think of an answer better than, 'Oh, Phil and I killed her.' Tori just looked at him, "Well?"

 

"She won't be bothering us anymore," the king said, "and she was trying to mess with your head, you know?"

 

"I kinda figured."

 

"C'mon, hurry up!!" Chris said, running at full speed up the steps to the royal chambers.

 

"I'm coming," the Hatter said, trying to catch his breath, "I'm not quite as young as I used to be, I don't have quite as great a spring in my step."

 

Chris just rolled his eyes and grabbed the mad man's hand, he kept going just as fast, nearly dragging the poor Hatter behind him.

 

"Where's Chris?" Tori asked.

 

"I'm not sure," Will said, "but the last I saw him, he ran off looking for you." Tori looked up at him, hoping for more, and the king smiled at her, "He's worried, you know? He does care about you, a lot."

 

"I know," Tori said, smiling, "I just wish I knew where he was."

 

The door handle shook and then there were a few pounds rather than knocks, "TORI?! OPEN THE DOOR!!" The voice belonged to Chris, he pulled at the knob again and pounded a few more times.

 

Tori sat up right, the rabbit toy in her hand and the blanket fell off her shoulders. The king smiled and took the doll from the girl, "What are you waiting for," he held up the doll, "let him in."

 

Tori shot off the bed and swung the door open, seeing the rabbit in front of her, a look of concern and worry on his face. The Hatter was behind him, hat and jacket off in one hand, trying to catch his breath. Tori tried to look over at the Hatter, but she felt the rabbit's arms around her before she even got to look out the corner of her eye.

 

Tori smiled and hugged him back, feeling the rabbit's grip tighten around her like he would never let her go. She looked over his shoulder at the Hatter who was smiling now, leaning against the wall, and she smiled and curled into the rabbit.

 

Chris lifted away and put his hands on her shoulders, "You had me worried sick!" Tori just smiled at him, Chris noticed how pale she was. The bright blush she had stuck out, as did the tear stains across both cheeks, "Oh, Tori," he wrapped his arms around her again.

 

The king smiled and just disappeared, taking the toy with him, and the Hatter got himself together. He put his hat back on his head and was about to put his jacket back on, but he noticed that Tori was shaking.

 

"Chris, I hate to break up the moment," he said, a hand on the rabbit's shoulder. Chris looked at him and then noticed that Tori was shaking. The Hatter draped his jacket around her shoulders, "That's heavier than that blanket, I promise." Tori just smiled and felt Chris's arms around her again. He wasn't about to let her go, she knew it, and the Hatter smiled, "I'll leave you two be."

 

Once Chris was sure the Hatter was gone he lifted away from Tori and smiled at her, putting a hand on her cheek, "Do you have any idea how long it took me to find you? I'm serious, I thought you'd run off or something."

 

"I tried," Tori said, "but I was only going to go out to the garden, I swear. One of the girls brought me back in and then, well . . . stuff happened and now we're here."

 

Chris just smiled at her, "You didn't answer my question."

 

"I'm guessing too long?"

 

He laughed and nuzzled her, "Way too long." Tori began giggling, just like before, and he smiled at her. She looked up at him with a smile, Chris pushing some of the stray hairs away from her face, his hands curling behind her ears and lifting her head up, his lips pressing up to hers.

 

Chris lifted away and smiled at her, "I love you, so much."

 

Tori smiled back and kissed him, "I love you too."

 

Both of them were red, still not used to saying that, but neither of them cared. It was a word, and even if it meant a lot, it was true. Chris held the jacket open and Tori slid her arms in, it was a bit too big on her, but Chris laughed and kissed her again.

 

"You know, Jon hasn't even let me wear this, I'm kinda jealous."

 

Tori laughed, "I promise I'm not going to take your man, I don't think he likes me very much anyway."

 

"Nonsense," Chris said, "why would he give you his jacket if he didn't?"

 

"I mean taking you away from him."

 

"I think he's passed that. He was just as worried as I was."

 

"Was he now?"

 

"He went searching with me, for you, I mean. We looked all over until the Oracle told us where to find you."

 

"The Oracle?"

 

"Yeah, I don't know, but how about we get going?"

 

"Where?"

 

Chris smiled and took the end of the jacket sleeve, rolling it down so that Tori had her hand free, "The kitchen, that's where."

 

"Why?" Tori asked, letting him do the other sleeve.

 

"Because, while you were gone, I went off and made a little something for you."

 

Tori raised an eyebrow, "You bake?"

 

"Indeed, I am a rabbit of many talents," Chris grabbed her hand, "now, c'mon, let's go."

 

Tori smiled and kissed his cheek, letting him lead the way back down the steps.

 

 

Part 33:

 

 

 

"Ugh, I feel so gross," Phil said, flinging his shirt out from the tub of suds he had it in. He was in his pants and socks, his trousers and vest soaked with water, hoping for the stains to come out.

 

"Yeah, I can imagine, but I don't think we can get this much blood out," the Hatter said, looking at the stains, "I think it's best if I just make you a new set of clothes."

 

"A fourth set, you sure Jon?"

 

"Chris was just a shirt, as was the new one for Tori."

 

"Right, but what about the first time you replaced her dress with the trousers and shirt?"

 

"That was easy! I've already got another vest and tie made for Tori as well, a new set of clothing is not much to ask," he looked up at the stained clothes, "especially after all that."

 

"Right, well, where's your jacket? Do you need to make a new one of those, too?"

 

"Nah, Tori's got it, poor girl's in a worse state than you are."

 

"I see . . ." Phil looked the mad man over and chuckled.

 

"What are you laughing at," the Hatter asked, "Is there a split seem on my behind or something?"

 

"No, no," Phil said, "Just never noticed that you wore suspenders." The Hatter rolled his eyes and the cat laughed.

 

"I suggest you stay in your feline body for a while while I get you a new set of clothes," the Hatter said.

 

"Do you at least have another pair of trousers or something?"

 

"Sadly not," the Hatter said, reaching into his hat and pulling out a vile with the bright green liquid, "Cat body or you walk around with your undergarments on, your choice." 

 

The Hatter tossed the vile at Phil and he opened it, pressing it to his lips and drinking the entire thing in one go. His body shank and he was very annoyed with how damp his fur was. 

 

The Hatter took the old, soaked shirt and hung it up with the rest of the clothes, to be burned later, and then headed upstairs. Phil followed him up and the two saw Chris and Tori, hand in hand, smiling as they went along.

 

"Where are you two headed, hmm?" the Hatter said with a smile.

 

"Kitchen," Chris said.

 

"What'd you make?"

 

"Not saying."

 

The Hatter rolled his eyes, "Right, well, c'mon Phil."

 

"Where are we going?" Phil asked, floating to the mad man's eye-level.

 

"To leave these two be." The Hatter walked on, hands in his pockets, and the cat sighed, following along again.

 

Chris smiled and the two made their way to the kitchen, pushing the doors open and Chris was happy to see two plates with a dish-towel over each. There was a note with his name on it, saying that they were the batch he had made earlier and that the bakers had separated them out in case he needed them for some reason.

 

"Are you gonna show me or not?" Tori asked.

 

"Yes, yes, hold on," Chris said, grabbing the plate, "I was going to give them to you when they were still warm, but it's still good either way."

 

"What?"

 

Chris smiled and slid the towel away, revealing the palte full of cookies, "I know it's not much and nothing special, but I didn't feel like making anything too big. And besides, cookies are simple and well, I uh-"

 

"Shut up," Tori laughed, taking the plate, "These look amazing," she took one and bit into it, covering her mouth to avoid see-food, "and taste amazing as well."

 

Chris smiled, "I'm glad you like them."

 

Tori swallowed and pointed to the other plate, "Why two plates worth?"

 

"A batch is a good 36 cookies, that many sweets is not good for anyone. 18 is even too much." Tori looked at him and raised an eyebrow, "Well, it is. Never said that we couldn't though."

 

Tori smiled at him and put the plate down, "Thank you."

 

Chris smiled and hugged her, "You're welcome." Tori put her arms around him kissed his cheek again. He lifted away and ran his hand through the girl's shortened hair, "You know, I think I like your hair short."

 

Tori blushed, "You do?"

 

Chris laughed, "I do," he leaned in and kissed her, "I know you may not, but I think it's cute."

 

Tori was blushing even harder now, "I just wish it didn't have to be done in such a crazy way, that imposter or whatever tried stabbing me after they cut my hair!" Chris's smile was wiped off his face and he just looked at her, concerned, "I didn't mean to scare you or anything I just-"

 

Chris kissed her and cut her off, "Stop, I was worried enough already."

 

"I didn't mean for you to be upset or anything, it's just what happened."

 

Chris sighed and shook his head, "Well, the imposter's gone and shouldn't be a problem anymore."

 

"Then why be worried?"

 

"Reasons."

 

"Like?"

 

He sighed again, "Just, believe me, reasons. It's kinda hard to explain."

 

"Okay, fine, but you don't need to be worried or upset or anything," she leaned in and started nuzzling him, "I'm okay now, mostly."

 

"Right, the mostly part is the problem."

 

Tori hugged the rabbit again and kissed him, "I'll be fine after this evening, I'm sure."

 

Chris smiled and kissed her back, taking the plate and putting the towel back over it, "C'mon, let's get out of here."

 

"Where to now?" Tori asked, her voice muffeled by cookie in her mouth.

 

"Just come on," Chris said, lacing his fingers through hers, "We can go and relax, eat, and just do whatever."

 

"Alright, fine," Tori said, "but like I said before, nothing funny, bunny boy."

 

Chris laughed and kissed her cheek, "Promise."

 

[SoothMeWithMusic]

dp

[coldplayisawesome]

just in time for the new school year, i have FINALLY finished this fic which only took me TWO YEARS TO WRITE. :blank: i will probably post one chapter a week (they are quite long chapters, don't worry), and while i will of course post the chapters in this thread, they will also be available on this little blog.

 

anyway, here it is...

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

 

Chris cautiously stepped out of the car, feeling as nervous as if it had been his own first day of school. But it wasn't, and he had to keep reminding himself that he was the adult here and there was no reason for him to be nervous. His son was going to be left in the care of a total stranger for half of the day, that was all. Nothing to be worried about.

 

He took two steps backwards and opened up the other car door on the driver's side. Sitting there in his car seat, beaming at Chris with bright blue eyes and a lunch pail in his hand, was Ty, his dark curly hair resting against his forehead and nearly hitting his eyes. Chris reached into the car and undid the seat belt, and Ty tried to jump out of the car as quickly as he could.

 

“Come on, daddy!” he shouted as he hopped up and down beside Chris, reaching up with his arm stretched out as far as it would go. Chris laughed at him, shut the door and made sure the car was locked, then he grabbed Ty's hand and they made their way towards the small school.

 

“You're far more excited than I am,” Chris told him. He looked down to see Ty skipping as they went along, and he smiled. “I suppose that's not a bad thing, though.”

 

Ty let go of Chris's hand and ran ahead as they approached the glass doors, but he unsuccessfully attempted to push them open. Chris sneaked his hand to the bars and pushed lightly so that Ty would think he was doing it himself. Of course, Ty knew what was really going on, and deep down Chris realized that. But he still pretended anyway.

 

“Chris,” a voice said the very instant they had stepped inside, “haven't I already told you that you're too old to go here anymore?” Chris turned to the direction from which the voice was coming, though he knew exactly who was speaking to him. Standing behind a desk at the entrance was a young man with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes.

 

“Uh, probably, but I never learn,” Chris answered, stopping in front of the man's desk. “And that's why I need to come back to school.”

 

“Well, I suppose I could try to sneak you in, but I think you might have to walk around on your knees.” The man smiled, and as he did so Chris couldn't help noticing that his eyes seemed to glow a little. Chris smiled back, tempted to reply, but reminding himself that he was in a building filled with small children. Then Chris felt Ty brush against his leg as he was trying to hide himself.

 

“Wait a minute... there's something down here...” Chris bent down, completely out of sight of the man, and grabbed Ty, who was trying not to burst out into a fit of giggles. Chris quickly stood back up, pulling Ty along with him, as Ty finally let his laughter go as he flew up into the air. “Oh, wow.”

 

“Hey, you look like you're small enough to go here,” the man said to Ty. He leaned over the desk a bit and lowered his voice. “Are you gonna learn a lot and then go home to teach your dad? Apparently he doesn't know very much.”

 

“No,” Ty exaggeratedly replied, as if what he was about to say was common knowledge. “My daddy is the smartest man I know. He doesn't need to be teached things.”

 

“Taught things,” Chris corrected. Ty looked up at him briefly, then back to the other man.

 

“See? He is a genius!” Ty exclaimed, frantically waving his arms about trying to make his point. Chris laughed at him, and the man smiled again.

 

“Then I think you're the only one who needs to stay here. Are you scared about starting school?”

 

Ty shook his head and grinned smugly. “No, I'm not scared of anything.”

 

“It's true,” Chris said to the man, “you should see the giant bugs that crawl around in his bed at night. Don't even faze him in the least.”

 

“Giant bugs?” Ty responded with confusion. He seemed to forget about it quickly, though, and then proceeded to ask, “Daddy, what does 'faze' mean?”

 

“Like bother,” Chris told him.

 

“Oh!” Satisfied with Chris's answer, Ty shifted his focus to his lunch box. He was busy tracing the cartoon figures on the front with his finger, while the man searched for something in a book on his desk. Eventually he found what he was looking for, and he peeled a rectangular sticker from the page.

 

“Here you are,” he said, handing the sticker to Chris. Chris took it and stuck it to Ty's shirt, just under his left shoulder. Ty looked down at it, but he didn't have the slightest clue what it said.

 

“What is that?” he asked.

 

“It's your name tag,” the man replied. “It's got your name on it, see?”

 

“No,” Ty said, twisting up his tiny mouth. Chris pointed out for him the spot where it said TYRONE, to which Ty responded with great awe. “Oh, wow, that is so cool!”

 

“All right, well, you're all set to go,” the man said. “So, you can head down to the room now. Do you know where it is?”

 

“Um...” Chris looked behind him at the long hallway. He stared for a few moments, then turned back. “That way,” he said, pointing backwards. The man laughed.

 

“Third door on the left,” he said, and Chris flashed him one last smile before leaving with Ty. As they walked further down the hallway and away from the man, Ty leaned closer to Chris and spoke with a very soft voice.

 

“Daddy, he kept smiling at you,” Ty nearly whispered, and he raised his eyebrows in hope that Chris would understand what he was saying.

 

“Ty, that doesn't mean anything,” Chris said, almost defensively, though he could feel his cheeks getting just a little redder. He almost glanced back at the man, increasingly disappearing into the distance, but before he could he realized that they had come to the door through which they needed to go. Chris set Ty down, and they both walked inside the room filled with quite a lot of other children and their parents, mostly mothers.

 

“Oh, hello!” a woman greeted them, and Chris assumed she was the teacher. She beamed at them, laughing a little, and said, “Are we taking our little brother to his first day of school?”

 

Chris was quite taken aback by this. For some reason, he had never expected anyone to think that Ty was his brother and not his son. “Um, actually, I'm his father.”

 

The woman's smile faded as she realized her mistake, and she tried to hide her mixture of judgment and embarrassment. “Oh. Well, uh–” She cleared her throat and turned her attention to Ty. “Welcome to the class. I'm Ms. Litherspoone, but you can call me Ms. L if it makes it easier. What's your name?”

 

“I'm Ty,” Ty enthusiastically replied. Then he pointed to Chris. “And he is... um...”

 

“Chris,” Chris answered.

 

“Yeah, Chris. He's my daddy,” Ty beamed, nodding his head.

 

“It's nice to meet you both,” Ms. Litherspoone in a semi-fake sweet voice, and she smiled at the two. It seemed like she might kept the conversation going, but at that moment another mother and her cute little daughter walked into the room, and Ms. Litherspoone rushed to meet them.

 

Chris watched uneasily as Ms. Litherspoone talked with the other woman, feeling like once again someone disapproved of him, when he felt a tug on his jacket sleeve. He looked down to see Ty staring up at him with wide eyes.

 

“Daddy, I wanna go talk to the other kids,” he said. Chris bent down so he was roughly eye level with Ty.

 

“All right, you can go talk to them,” he said, reaching out and gently placing his hands on Ty's small arms. “But I think I'm gonna leave now, is that OK?”

 

“Yes, I will be fine,” Ty said with a tiny smile. Despite Chris's hold, Ty walked forward and wrapped his arms around Chris as best as he could. After a few seconds he pulled back, and quickly kissed Chris on the nose. The, giggling as he spoke, he said, “Goodbye, daddy, and don't forget to say hi to that nice man by the doors on your way out!”

 

Ty ran away as quickly as possible, and Chris incredulously shouted, “Ty!!” at him as he went. He shook his head and stood up, sighing as he went. For a few more seconds he watched as his son started chatting with a small group of children, and he was extremely glad that Ty seemed to be so social. And the fact that the other kids appeared to accept him was a relief as well.

 

Chris turned to find where the door had gone, and as he did so he caught a glimpse of a few women whispering things to each other. He tried not to think it, because it would be a bit arrogant to do so, but he had the sinking feeling that they were talking about him. He quickly looked back at them, and saw that they were at least clearly looking in his direction.

 

Having found the door, Chris immediately left the room without acknowledging anyone else. He relished the quietness of the hallway, and as he walked closer and closer to the front desk his heart beat just a little faster.

 

At first no one was there, and all that Chris could see from afar was the nameplate resting on the desk's surface and shouting at everyone, TRISTAN SOLDEL. Then, almost out of nowhere, the dark-haired man appeared and took his place behind the desk. He lifted his head up, and almost immediately smiled at Chris. Chris smiled back and gave a little wave, which he soon realized looked extremely camp and he wished he hadn't done it at all. Despite his embarrassment, he decided to stop for a while and try to strike up a bit of conversation. Luckily, he didn't have to try very hard.

 

“I'm guessing everything went well then, huh?” Tristan asked as Chris stopped in front of him. “I think you were the first one out of there.”

 

“Yeah, it went well. Ty wanted almost nothing to do with me as soon as we got in there,” Chris laughed.

 

“Aw, you mean he didn't want his daddy around anymore?” Tristan replied in a mocking tone. Chris shook his head.

 

“He wanted to be with all the other kids. Which is good. I just hope he does as well for the rest of the day.” Chris stared down and nervously tapped the tips of his fingers on the desk, and he came to the conclusion that so far he had managed to not make an idiot of himself, and that he should just be happy with that and take the opportunity to leave. He had work to do, anyway. “Um, I think I better be going, then...”

 

“Right. Have fun enjoying your eerie silence in the absence of your son,” Tristan said, and Chris looked up to see him raising his eyebrows convincingly. “It's gonna be weird.”

 

“You would think that, but I have a tape of him yapping on and on that I'm just gonna put on repeat for a few hours, so...” Chris snapped his finger as an ending to his sentence, and at that moment he realized that his plan to escape looking like a normal person was already blown. But Tristan didn't seem to think so.

 

“That's a good idea,” he said as he laughed. Chris felt his cheeks heating up again, and he chuckled nervously in response.

 

“Thanks.” Chris took a few steps back, awkwardly, and gave another wave, but this time he made sure that it was more manly than before. “Well, see you.”

 

Chris left as quickly as he could without seeming rude, and as soon as he sat in his car, he rested his head on the steering wheel for a few minutes, trying to get over himself. Finally, he picked his head up and drove off. Tristan had been absolutely right; the silence was almost deafening. While stopped at a red light, Chris looked into the rear-view mirror to see the empty car seat in the back. It was definitely weird.

 

When he returned home the quiet followed him, and even though Chris had spent plenty of time without Ty (when he stayed with Kirsten, for example), it was somehow different now. He tried to shake off the feeling as he sat down at his desktop computer. There were more important things to focus on at the moment, like the fact that he needed to write an article in two days.

 

Deadlines like this were one of the few things Chris resented about being a writer. He had never actually intended to be this kind of writer in the first place- a journalist, basically- but he took the job because it was there, they wanted him, and it paid just enough for him to support himself and his son.

 

In fact, not only had he taken the job to support them, but he had also not attended university for the exclusive reason that he wanted to take care of Ty. Kirsten absolutely loved the idea, as while she did love her son, she relished the idea of not having to be responsible for him all the time. After all, most of her teenage years had been taken from her; when her friends were all hanging out, shopping, or having sleepover parties, she was at home looking after Ty. But with Chris taking over, she could at least enjoy the last few years.

 

Every now and then Kirsten would visit them when she was still living with her parents. Once she came of age and moved out of the house with the big, blue door, she took more opportunities to see her son, though it was certainly difficult since, unlike Chris, she did opt to further her education. And so even now, Ty was with Chris more often than not, and he would only stay with Kirsten for a few hours, occasionally spend the night.

 

Chris looked at the clock and realized that while he had been sitting there, absentmindedly staring at the computer screen and thinking about his life, several hours had managed to slip by without him writing so much as a word for his article, and it was now time for him to pick Ty up from school. He was actually a bit glad to be rid of the view of the empty document before him, and he was certainly glad that he would see his son again.

 

The drive to the school seemed to take much longer than it had before. It actually felt as if Chris had been stuck at every one of the red lights this time, plus he was already very impatient. As he was waiting for cars to pass in the opposite direction so that he could turn into the school, he was struck with a strange feeling that not everything was right. He left his car so quickly that he almost forgot to shut it off, and when he slammed the door he nearly got his own hand caught in between. He ran to the glass doors, but he quickly tried to calm himself before walking inside.

 

A few feet into the building, he heard Tristan's voice speak to him once again. “Hey, Chris,” he said, and his tone sounded rather urgent. Chris looked up at him, worried. “Uh, it seems there was some trouble earlier...” Tristan slowly lifted his hand and pointed in the direction of what seemed to be the principal's office. “I think they might still be in there.”

 

“Trouble?” Chris distractedly repeated, leaving no room for a reply as he scrambled to get to the next room. Despite his rush, he slowly opened the door, peeking inside until he saw the man he assumed to be the principal talking to the chair in front of him. Of course, Ty was sitting in that chair, but he was hardly visible. “Excuse me?” Chris quietly said.

 

“Come on in,” the principal replied, standing up and walking around the side of his desk. “I assume that you are Tyrone's father.”

 

“Yeah,” Chris said as he stood inside of the room. “What's going on?”

 

“Have a seat, please.” The man waved to another chair beside Ty's, and Chris hesitantly sat down. The principal made his way back to his desk and also sat down, clasping his hands together in front of him. Chris looked over to Ty, who was staring with an unidentifiable expression on his face. Chris thought it may have slightly resembled anger.

 

“What's going on?” Chris asked again, more desperately. Ty turned his head towards his father, and almost immediately he appeared sad.

 

“There was some trouble with a few of the other kids in class,” the principal began. And there was that word again, the word which said so much and so little all at once. Chris was growing increasingly frustrated with the lack of information he was receiving. “Tyrone, would you like to explain what happened?”

 

“Ms. L made us sit in groups, and when we were drawing things, the other kids in my group started saying stuff to me,” Ty grumpily said, indicating that whatever it was they had said to him was not taken very kindly. Chris felt his heart sink a little; he had really hoped that Ty would at least be accepted by the children in his class.

 

“Tyrone hit one of the other boys,” the principal told Chris. Chris whipped his head around, shot an incredibly bewildered look at the man, then turned back to his son.

 

“Ty,” Chris started, almost at a loss for words, “why would you...?”

 

“I told you,” Ty said, pouting, “they were saying stuff to me.”

 

“Well, just because kids say things to you doesn't mean you hit them.” Chris sighed, closed his eyes briefly and rubbed a hand across his forehead. Ty, recognizing the disappointment in Chris's voice, opened his eyes wide and frowned.

 

“But they said mean things about you,” Ty said in a high-pitched voice, though his anger quickly shone through once more. “And no one says mean things about my daddy.” Chris let his hand fall into his lap as he stared at Ty with a tiny bit of admiration.

 

“I appreciate you sticking up for me, Ty, but you can't hit other kids, OK?” Chris quietly said. Ty stared at him sadly, then nodded his head. “You're a smart kid, you should use your brain and not your fists.”

 

“All right,” Ty replied, smiling a little with determination. “I won't hit anyone anymore, even when they make me mad because they say mean things about you.”

 

“Good,” Chris said, and he sank back in the chair a little. One question burned through his mind, but he wasn't sure that he wanted to know the answer. He breathed deeply, preparing to ask, when the principal did it for him.

 

“What did these other kids say to you, Tyrone?” the man asked, his voice stern and a bit of a shock to Chris's ears after having almost forgotten that he was even there. Chris kept his eyes on his son as Ty slowly looked up at the principal.

 

“They said...” Ty twisted up his mouth, trying to remember. “I don't even know!” he exclaimed, exasperatedly, throwing his arms up in the air.

 

“You don't know what they said to you? Not even part of it?”

 

Ty shrugged his small shoulders. “Something like... Oh, Tyrone, his dad is such a que...quh... uh... I don't remember,” he said, disheartened, and his shoulders slumped a little. “But I do remember that they were laughing all mean-like when they said it and it made me really mad. And I didn't know what they were saying to me anyway.”

 

It broke Chris's heart to see Ty so distraught about something he should never have had to deal with in the first place. Chris had learned a long time ago to handle the mindless criticism from other people, but he had never thought that Ty could be subjected to it as well. And all because of him.

 

“I think we should continue this discussion tomorrow, then, when your classmates are here.” The principal cleared his throat, then turned his attention to Chris. “Will you be able available?”

 

“Uh, yeah,” Chris said, and he realized then that his article was going to have to be written under massive amounts of pressure in the last hours before his deadline. He was used to that, though.

 

“Then I shall be seeing you both tomorrow. Have a pleasant afternoon.” The man seemed to stop acknowledging either of them at that point, and he merely stared down at some papers on his desk. It was just as well; Chris felt a little scrutinized for Ty's behavior, though the principal had never directly blamed him, and he really would have liked to leave as soon as possible.

 

“You too, sir,” Chris said despite the man's lack of attention, and he stood up and held his hand out to Ty. “Come on, kid.”

 

Ty hopped out of the chair and grabbed Chris's hand, and the two left the room. Tristan smiled at them both on their way out and also wished them a good day, much friendlier than the principal had. As soon as they were both outside, far out of earshot of Tristan, Chris could hear Ty quietly giggling to himself, but he chose to ignore it. Before they reached the car, Ty stopped laughing, and he sighed loudly.

 

“Daddy, are you mad at me?” he asked in a fretful tone. Chris looked down at him, tilted his head to the side, as they both stopped by the back door of the car.

 

“No, I'm not mad at you.”

 

“You should be,” Ty sadly said. He lifted his exuberant blue eyes to his father and frowned.

 

“Why should I be mad at you?” Chris asked him. He let go of Ty's hand and bent down so they were more level with each other.

 

“Because I did a bad thing. Lotsa other people are mad at me.” Ty broke his gaze and stared at the ground, as if he was afraid of what he would see in Chris's eyes. But Chris realized this, and he put his hand under Ty's chin and lifted his head, forcing eye contact.

 

“I'm not mad at you,” Chris slowly and firmly said. “I do think you need to apologize to that boy, because it was wrong of you to hit him. But I'm not mad. Not at you – if anything, I'm more angry with myself for not preparing you for this sort of thing. Except I never thought there would be any reason for you to deal with it.”

 

A sudden sharpness flashed through Ty's eyes, and he leaned forward slightly and in a near whisper said, “Daddy, what does 'queer' mean?”

 

Chris sighed tiredly as he felt like his skin was being dragged down his face. “That's what they said to you, isn't it?” With eyebrows drawn tightly together and mouth turned down, Ty nodded. “Well, it could mean a few things, but... you know how some boys don't like girls, they like other boys?”

 

“Like you,” Ty quietly added.

 

“Yeah. Well, there are quite a lot of people in this world who don't think that's OK. And 'queer' is one of the things they call those boys. It's not a nice thing at all.” Chris paused for a moment and watched as Ty yet again went from upset to angry, tightening his jaw and narrowing his eyes.

 

“Why don't people think it's OK?” he asked. “There's nothing wrong with it, right? You told me there's nothing wrong with it!”

 

“Some people think there is,” Chris calmly told him. “And honestly, Ty, I wish I could tell you why, but I have no idea.”

 

 

 

 

by the way, this story is the third story in a series that i started writing almost a year after i joined the fanfic thread. you can find the first two stories linked in the blog for this story.

if you haven't read either of the other stories, though, they aren't really necessary to read in order to "get" this one. at least, i hope this one will be able to stand on it's own. :P

 

 

 

 

[Viva_La_Coldplay]

-

[coldplayisawesome]

 

Chapter Two - Part One

 

 

 

The room was quiet, the only sound coming from a tiny oscillating fan in the corner. It was hard at work, but it did nothing to soothe the heated tension between Chris and a woman who refused to be called anything other than Mrs. Carter. Her blonde hair was pinned tightly to her head and wrapped in a bun, her nose pointed in the air as her hands rested in her lap, smoothing over the fabric of her designer dress. Beside her stood her son, whose dark eyes were shooting nasty glares across the room at Ty.

 

“I simply do not see why I must be dragged down here in the middle of the day because this man,” Mrs. Carter carelessly waved her hand in Chris's general direction, “cannot control his son. I have a million other things that I could be doing right now.”

 

“It wouldn't be necessary if your son didn't say things to provoke him,” Chris retorted, shifting angrily in his seat. “Things, by the way, which I'm certain he didn't just come up with on his own. Actually, it seems more likely that he heard them from you.”

 

Mrs. Carter took a momentary break from staring at the ceiling in pompous disgust to gaze threateningly at Chris. “How I raise my child is none of your concern,” she slowly said, making sure to emphasize every other syllable. Then, without moving, she continued, “And I have already spoken to him about repeating the things he hears, isn't that right Daren?”

 

The little boy nodded his head firmly, though his mother could not see, and said, “Yes, mum.”

 

“Oh, then it's all OK,” Chris sarcastically replied.

 

“Yes, well, I am assuming it is far more than what you have done with that child of yours.” As she finished speaking, Mrs. Carter flicked her head back again. And while he thought himself to be a reasonably calm guy, Chris was finding that he had very little patience for this woman. In a way, she reminded him of every one of the people he knew growing up, all of his parents' friends who definitely would have looked down on him exactly as she did.

 

“Ty apologized,” Chris defensively said. “I didn't hear the same thing coming from Daren.”

 

“That is because I did not raise my son to apologize when he need not do so–”

 

“Are you kidding me?” Chris was shouting now, despite all his efforts not to. “You know, it's really not like Ty just walked up to him and decided, 'Oh, I think I'll hit this kid. Sounds good.' He was being harassed!”

 

“Harassed?” Mrs. Carter incredulously repeated, now also shouting. The principal, who had been seated at his desk, but had not said one word since the very beginning of the meeting, cleared his throat, only to be completely ignored by the two parties. “I hope you are not suggesting that my dear Daren did anything to deserve the injuries he sustained.”

 

Almost as if it was required of them, both Chris and Mrs. Carter hopped up from their seats, though they pointedly kept their distance from each other. “Oh, what injuries? A bruise?”

 

“I will have you know that I had to take poor Daren to see the doctor after what your monster of a son did to him!”

 

Chris took in as much air as he could, overfilling his lungs with oxygen, and prepared to yell as much as needed, but he was prevented from doing so. “Enough!” the principal finally spoke, his voice not very loud over the other noise, although he hollered as loudly as possible. “Can we please just settle down?” Chris took another deep breath, Mrs. Carter pursed her lips. For a few brief moments, the room was silent again.

 

“You know,” Mrs. Carter quietly began, “it really is a wonder they even allow people like you to have children in the first place.”

 

Then, as if every other word that had come out of her mouth hadn't been enough, Chris finally lost the one bit of stability he had been desperately clinging to. But instead of being angry, he was upset, and it felt like this woman had just ripped his heart out. To even suggest that he wasn't good enough to take care of his son –

 

“STOP IT!”

 

Every head in the room turned; it was not very usual for such a monstrous voice to be produced by such a small child. Ty stood behind his father, his chest heaving and his fists clenched, but after a moment he walked around to face Mrs. Carter.

 

“Stop saying mean things to my daddy, OK?” he emphatically told her. “He is a very nice man.”

 

At first, Mrs. Carter seemed a little put off by a five-year-old yelling at her, but she smiled and leaned down, speaking to him as if he were just a baby. “Your daddy is a lot of things,” she said, “I am not so sure that nice is one of them. Besides, your father looks far too young to be a good role model, let alone a good parent.”

 

“Mrs. Carter,” the principal intrusively said. Mrs. Carter straightened her back and gave him a dignified look. “We need to decide how to deal with this. Punishments.”

 

She took one last look at Ty and Chris before replying. “Let him be. It is far too much of a hassle to deal with this any further – I think I might have already developed an ulcer just from this talk – and anyway, having this poor excuse as a father must be punishment enough. Daren!” she called over her shoulder, and without even looking back to make sure her son was following her, she left the room.

 

After watching the two leave, Ty turned around and hugged Chris's legs. Chris, still shaken, ruffled Ty's hair a bit, then looked up at the principal.

 

“Well. I feel as though I should say congratulations,” the principal said to Chris. “In all of my years at this school, I have never seen the parents fight worse than the children.”

 

“Glad we could help,” Chris attempted to joke, but it was obvious that he wasn't exactly ready to make light of what had happened.

 

“Daddy, can we go home now?” Ty asked, his voice slightly muffled by the fabric of Chris's pants. Chris slid his hands under Ty's arms and lifted him up.

 

“Yeah, we can go,” he said. Ty leaned forward and rested his head on Chris's shoulder, and Chris placed a hand on Ty's back. He turned to the principal. “I'm sorry about all the fuss–”

 

“No, I apologize,” the principal said, holding up in hand in protest. “Had I known there would have been such conflict, I would have settled this with both of you separately, even though that would have been quite a hassle. Now, please, go home and enjoy the rest of your day.”

 

“Thanks, you too,” Chris said, giving the best polite smile he could. He tried to glimpse at Ty, but all he could see was Ty's mop of wild curls. He quickly left the room and the building in general (Tristan was not at his desk as they went by), all the while carrying Ty, who would definitely soon be much too heavy for Chris to hold for so long. His arm was already starting to ache as it was.

 

“You can put me down if you want, daddy,” Ty sleepily said as Chris stepped out into the parking lot. Chris laughed a little.

 

“It's not too far to the car, I'll just carry you,” he said. “But thanks.”

 

“OK.” Ty weakly lifted his head up and looked at his father. He was having quite a hard time keeping his eyes open. “Daddy, I'm tired.”

 

“Do you think you can stay up until we get home?” Chris asked, pushing some of Ty's curls out of his face. “I mean, you can sleep in the car if you want, but then I'm gonna have to wake you up when we get there.”

 

“I think I know what might help me stay up,” Ty mumbled as they stopped by the car. Ty innocently looked at Chris, but Chris could see past his cute expression. It helped that they often thought the same way.

 

“Let me guess – ice cream,” Chris replied. Ty stared at him for a while, but a smile cracked its way onto his face. Chris laughed and smiled back, nodding his head. “All right. But you have to promise me that you won't get it all over your face.”

 

“I promise, daddy,” Ty said, suddenly more awake than he was five seconds ago, his eyes rather wide and full of excitement. He put a hand proudly over his heart. “I will be the cleanest person ever in the world, and I will be even cleaner than you."

 

“Yeah, OK,” Chris playfully replied in disbelief. He opened the back door to the car and prepared to sit Ty in his car seat.

 

“I will! You think you can be cleaner than me, HMM, HMM?” Ty said in his best threatening voice, widening his already large eyes even further and shoving his face as close to Chris's as he could without bumping his nose into Chris's cheek.

 

Chris tried his hardest not to laugh, the serious look he put on almost painful to keep. Without saying a word, he buckled Ty in, shut the door, and sat himself down in the driver's seat. He looked up in the rear-view to see that Ty was still staring at him with impossibly large eyes.

 

“I will be so much cleaner, Ty,” he slowly began, “that when we're through, you're going to look like you're made entirely of dirt.” With that, Chris started the car and peeled his eyes away from the mirror. He heard Ty gasp loudly, and even though he couldn't see it, he knew that Ty was making the face he always made when he decided to prove someone wrong. His nose would crinkle and he would pout his lips. Chris had a vague recollection of doing that when he was a child.

 

It was definitely the face Ty was making when they arrived at the parlor some ten-odd minutes later. Chris let Ty run ahead of him a little into the shop, though in reality Ty was actually hopping rather than running. Unfortunately, he couldn't see past the counter, so he had to wait for Chris to stop beside him anyway.

 

As Chris stopped, he spotted a man behind the counter, leaning over one of the freezers and facing the opposite direction. “Wow, great service here. Good to see you're keeping an eye out for customers,” he said.

 

The man behind the counter stood up, straightened his back, and even without seeing his face Chris knew that he was annoyed. It was just the way the man always was. “Oh, Chris. Good to see you're still around,” he sneered as he turned around.

 

Ty suddenly began to jump up and down, desperately trying to see over the counter. “Hi... Uncle... Devon!” he shouted, stretching his little arm up as far as it would go and waving.

 

“Hi,” Devon distastefully replied. “What can I get for you, then?”

 

“I want lots of chocolate ice cream with lots of sprinkles,” Ty loudly replied, though he wasn't sure Devon could hear him since he couldn't see him. He turned to Chris and tugged on Chris's jacket. “Daddy, tell him I want lots of chocolate ice cream with lots of sprinkles.”

 

“All right, all right,” Chris said with a hint of laughter. “Why don't you go find a seat?”

 

“OK!” Ty chirped, and he ran off to a nearby booth. He sat so that he could still see his father, and as he made himself comfortable, he clasped his hands on the table's surface. For a few minutes he sat there and stared, noticing how unhappy his uncle looked. But Devon had been that way most of the time Ty had ever seen him, and so Ty just assumed that it was just how Devon was around everyone.

 

A few minutes later Chris walked over carrying two medium-sized cups, both with spoons sticking straight up. He placed one in front of Ty, then sat down on the opposite side of the table. Ty was already shoving a spoonful of his ice cream into his mouth by the time Chris looked up at him.

 

“Thank you, daddy!” he brightly said as he dug his spoon into the cup once more.

 

“You're welcome,” Chris replied. He took a bite of his own ice cream, much less eager than Ty. “Was school better today than it was yesterday?”

 

“Um, yeah, 'cause I didn't hit anyone today,” Ty happily answered.

 

“Did those kids still say things to you?”

 

“Yeah, but I just didn't listen to them.” Ty froze for a second, stuck in spoon in his cup, and looked up at Chris. “Was that a good thing to do?”

 

Chris nodded. “You shouldn't let them bother you. I'll bet those kids don't even know what they're saying anyway.”

 

While twisting his mouth in a characteristic sort of way, Ty went back to digging into his cup. “Daddy, why does Uncle Devon always look so sad all the time?” Ty leaned over the table to the best of his ability and lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Are people mean to him, too?”

 

“Eh, I don't think many people are mean to Devon,” Chris said. “I also don't think he looks sad, exactly. More like very annoyed that he has to deal with me. See, Devon and I have never really gotten along very well.”

 

“Oh.” Ty quickly consumed another spoonful. “Is he more meaner to other people, then?”

 

“Well, he can get very angry sometimes,” Chris slowly and carefully replied. “In fact, it's more than likely that your short temper comes from that side of the family.”

 

Ty seemed rather alarmed by this, his eyes becoming frightfully large as he opened his mouth in shock. “Has he hit people before also?” Ty quietly asked.

 

Chris winced a little, as he was reminded of his private school days, something he hadn't thought about in quite a while. “He's definitely hit at least one person. You have much better manners than he does, though. At least you apologized.”

 

“Uncle Devon hit someone and he didn't even apologize?” Ty asked with great disbelief. When Chris nodded firmly, Ty sat back in his seat some and slowly shook his head. “He is a bad influence.”

 

Chris laughed a little. “Do you even know what that means?” Ty got very excited and quickly nodded his head.

 

“It means that he's not such a good person, so other people shouldn't learn from what he does, 'cause what he does is sometimes bad and it's not good to learn bad things,” Ty spit out. He looked very smug after he did. Chris smiled at him.

 

“Well, that's quite a long-winded answer, but yeah.” Ty almost immediately frowned, losing all of the pride he had just contained.

 

“What's long-winded mean?” he asked.

 

Chris thought for a few moments. Every now and then Ty would stump him with some of his questions. “Like, really long, sort of. Your answer was very long, and it had a lot of words that you maybe didn't need,” he explained.

 

“Hmm, I should work on that,” Ty plainly stated. He quickly took several large bites of his ice cream. “Daddy, you are the smartest man I know.”

 

“You don't know very many smart people, then,” Chris joked, but it seemed to have gone over Ty's head.

 

“I know you,” Ty shrugged. “But as far as I am concerted, you would still be the smartest even if I knew all the smart people in the whole world.”

 

“Concerned,” Chris said. Ty looked at him with great confusion. “As far as you're concerned, not concerted. Concert means to plan.”

 

Ty stared at Chris for a while, then he sighed. “You will never believe me, will you?”

 

“No, I won't,” Chris simply replied, with a hint of laughter. “Now, hurry up and finish so we can go. I can feel Devon's stare piercing the back of my neck.”

 

Ty looked up at his uncle, who was indeed shooting death glares at Chris. Then he turned back to his father, and nodded. “Yes, sir!”

 

Ty quickly consumed the rest of the contents of his dish, and once he was finished he jumped out of the booth without saying a word. Chris figured that Ty was ready to leave, and his suspicions were confirmed when Ty grabbed his hand and tried to pull him up as well. Chris stood up and disposed of their empty containers before torturing Devon with a final farewell, and then actually leaving.

 

Ty held Chris's hand all the way to the car, even though they were parked right near the entrance. He let Chris lift him into his seat like always, and for the most part their ride home was quiet. Ty looked out the window and watched the world pass by, as he so often did, his mind just like his father's, drifting and dreaming of bigger things.

 

When Chris let Ty out of the car, he noticed that something seemed different. He asked Ty what was wrong, and Ty looked up at him, frowning.

 

“I feel sad,” he said in a sort of mumble. Chris bent down and looked carefully at Ty.

 

“Why do you feel sad?” Chris sympathetically asked him.

 

“I don't know,” Ty shrugged, though it was in the way that told Chris he really did know why. But Chris never liked to pester Ty, because he knew that Ty would always come around in the end, especially if it was something that was really bothering him.

 

So, Chris merely brought Ty out of the car, and the two began to make their way up to their apartment. Once inside, Ty curled himself up on the couch and just stared at the wall. Chris sat down beside him, silent.

 

“Do you wanna watch something?” Chris asked after a few minutes. He didn't want to bother Ty, but he wasn't sure what to do instead, either. He did have that article waiting to be written, but he wanted to make sure that his son was all right first. Ty slowly shook his head, then sighed.

 

“Daddy... I wish people weren't so mean to you all the time,” he quietly said, his mouth turned down in a frown that seemed to perfectly convey his feelings. “It makes me sad.”

 

Chris smiled just a little, both because he had been right about Ty and because it made him happy to know that Ty cared about him so much. He rarely doubted it, but it was always nice to be reassured. “I wish they weren't, too, but it's just the way things are.”

 

Ty looked up at his father. “Does it make you sad, too?” he inquired in a voice that suggested he didn't want to be alone in his emotions. Chris shrugged.

 

“I try to ignore all those people,” he told Ty. “It doesn't always work, but most of the time they don't bother me so much.”

 

Ty thought for a few seconds. By the way his eyes were brightening, he seemed to be feeling a little better. “So, you don't let them faze you?” he asked, looking rather impressed with himself for using one of his new words. Chris smiled again.

 

“Right.” Ty stretched himself out a bit and moved closer to Chris.

 

“Are you happy, daddy?” he quietly asked, his eyebrows drawn together. Chris appeared to have been thrown by the question. He stammered for a few seconds before even one cohesive word came out of his mouth.

 

“Um...” Chris had never considered himself to be an unhappy guy, per se, but now that he thought about it, he wasn't so sure that he was happy, either. And now it was taking him longer to answer than he would have liked, and he was afraid of what Ty might be thinking of his delayed reply. After all, Ty was a very intelligent little boy, and he would definitely be able to see right through Chris.

 

As a few seconds turned into several minutes, Chris found himself becoming even more flustered. Time seemed to make no difference to Ty, and he would have been fine sitting and watching Chris struggle to come up with an answer for hours if he had to, but after a while he realized that Chris was probably not going to finish speaking.

 

“I wish Jonny was here,” Ty mumbled. Chris's heart sank at the mention of Jonathan; two years later and he still hadn't fully moved on yet, making it incredibly hard for Chris to think about him, even though he did it every single day.

 

“You remember Jon?” Chris softly asked, trying to control the shaking in his voice. “I mean, you were kinda young.”

 

“I remember that when he was here, you were happy. Really happy,” Ty replied with great emphasis. He sat even closer to Chris now, his eyes large and questioning as they always were whenever he felt a thirst for knowledge. “Why did Jonny leave?”

 

Chris took a few moments to prepare himself. It wasn't going to be easy by any means, but he was at least grateful that Ty insisted on using the nickname his mother came up with rather than the one Chris had always used.

 

“Well, he went to university, and after a while... it just didn't make sense for us to – to stay together.” Chris drew in a sharp breath, hoping that his answer would be good enough. He wasn't sure that he could go into much further detail and at the same time not completely breakdown. But Ty, being the smart child he was, seemed to understand this.

 

“Oh... You didn't go to un-vers-ty, did you?” Ty asked. Chris nearly breathed a sigh of relief for the quick subject change, though he realized that Ty had a mind like his and at any moment it could go off-track once more and they could potentially once again touch upon Jonathan's absence from their lives.

 

“No, I didn't,” Chris answered, shaking his head a little.

 

“Why not?” Chris moved his arm and brought Ty into his lap. Ty looked very intent on finding out as much as he could about the situation.

 

“Because I wanted to take care of you,” Chris told him. “And I didn't have money to go anyway. But even if I had, I think this is a lot better.”

 

“Well, I am glad that you decided to take care of me instead,” Ty cheerfully replied, “because we have a lot of good times together. Don't we?”

 

“Of course we do,” Chris said, and he ruffled Ty's hair a bit. “Every day, kid.”

 

“Daddy, that nice man at my school, what is his name?” Chris narrowed his eyes at Ty, but ultimately told him what the man's name was. “Oh. I think you should ask Tristan if he likes you. I think he does,” Ty whispered as he cupped his hand around his mouth, as though there might have been someone else in the room who could have overheard.

 

“It's not that easy,” Chris said. Ty shot him a look of utter disbelief, which Chris should have discredited (because Ty clearly had no actual experience in this area), but he found himself unable to do so. Chris generally felt the need to explain himself to Ty no matter what. “Hey, it's really not! I mean, you are a very intelligent kid, but you could be wrong. And then what?”

 

“I don't think I'm wrong,” Ty simply stated, shrugging his shoulders in an exaggerated sort of way. “Don't you want to be happy?”

 

“Well, yeah,” Chris quietly replied, though at that particular moment he failed to see how it was related.

 

“He's not Jonny, but you do look happy when you talk to him. And he looks happy when you talk to him, too.”

 

Ty stared pointedly at Chris for quite some time, while Chris was busy trying to think of a way to change the subject again. Plus, now that Ty seemed to be fine, he really needed to get to work.

 

“You know, Penny always told me that you'd be trouble once you learned to talk,” Chris said. “I really should have listened to her.”

 

“I wouldn't have to be trouble if you would just tell people how you feel once in a while,” Ty animatedly insisted, swinging his hands about with every word he spoke. “If you like someone, you should tell them that you like them. I don't see what is so crazy about that!”

 

Chris kept his eyes on Ty, just observing for a few moments. “I admire your courage,” he said, “but unfortunately you did not get that from me.”

 

“Oh, daddy. You will never believe me,” Ty simply replied, shaking his head in a 'that's life' sort of way. He took the liberty and quickly decided that it was time for a subject change. “I wanna watch a movie!”

 

“All right, go pick out what you want to watch. I'll get you something to eat and then put it on for you,” Chris told him. Ty jumped off Chris's legs and landed on the floor.

 

“Are you going to watch it with me?” he excitedly asked.

 

“I can't, I have to finish writing my article,” Chris explained. He felt bad, as Ty looked a little disappointed. “But you can watch this, and then later you and I can watch something else together. Does that sound good?”

 

“Yeah!!” Ty quite literally hopped over to the wall, where their collection of DVDs was resting. While Ty was carefully examining each one and trying to make a choice, Chris stood up and walked into the kitchen.

 

He was never really much of a cook, and as a result their refrigerator and cupboards were filled with various microwavable foods. Chris realized that this was highly unhealthy, and to balance it out he also bought a lot of fruit. Of course, with autumn drawing nearer, there was less and less to buy, but he did manage to stock up on apples.

 

Chris brought a bowl of sliced apples to Ty, and in return Ty handed him the movie he had finally picked. Ty took a seat on the couch as Chris set up the movie for him. In another minute, Chris walked across the room to his computer and sat down.

 

While he waited for the computer to start up, Chris watched the television screen behind him. Ty seemed to think that whatever was going on in the movie was hilarious. Chris smiled, amused by Ty's enthusiasm, and he turned back to the computer.

 

 

[coldplayisawesome]

sorry, it wouldn't fit in one post! :P

 

 

Chapter Two - Part Two

 

 

 

Taking a deep breath, Chris began to type the first thing he thought of. He didn't want to sit and waste time thinking what to say first to make it perfect, because he realized that if he did that, he would never get it finished in time. A rough draft would work for now; after all, the editor had a job for a reason. Chris would go back and try to fix things as well, but it was more important just to get the damn thing written first.

 

He was nearly finished when Ty popped up next to him. Chris noticed his presence, but he didn't react because he was on a roll and he didn't want to lose his train of thought. He wrote the last word in the paragraph, hit the return key a few times, then turned to his son.

 

“I'm guessing your movie's done,” he said, and Ty nodded.

 

“Can I watch you, daddy?” he asked.

 

“Yeah, sure.” Chris had intended on going back to typing, but he sat frozen, perplexed by Ty, who had just run off into the other room. After a while he just shrugged it off, and typed some more. A few minutes later, he heard Ty, along with something scraping against the floor. “What are you doing?” he called, without looking first.

 

Ty was halfway between the kitchen doorway and Chris's computer, desperately trying to drag a chair that was twice the size of his body across the room. Chris couldn't help laughing, and he strode over to help. Ty refused the extra hand, though, and he made a sort of growling noise when Chris touched the chair.

 

“No, I wanna do it!” he insisted, and Chris immediately backed off. But he stayed nearby, just in case Ty changed his mind.

 

It took another minute for Ty to finally reach the computer desk. He let the chair rest almost right up against Chris's, and he climbed up with very little trouble. Chris sat down in his own seat again, and for a while he looked at Ty, who was staring at the document Chris had open on the screen.

 

“Daddy, what does that say?” he asked, pointing at the screen.

 

“Which part?” Chris replied, looking at the screen to see what Ty was asking about.

 

“All of it.”

 

Chris smiled again. “It's an article about how people seem to like movies rather than books. If you ask me, it's a pretty simple reason.”

 

“Why? What's the reason?” Ty inquired.

 

“Well, it's easier to watch something than to read. It also has to do with time,” Chris explained. “See, because people read at different speeds, so what takes me five minutes to read could take someone else ten. And maybe it'll take another person three. With film, though, it's the same length for everyone.”

 

“Oh. I've never read any books before,” Ty said, rather unhappily.

 

Chris thought for a few seconds, then he shrugged. “Well, it's OK. You're only five, and you can't read yet. No one expects you to. I've read books to you, though.”

 

“No, not little kid's books. I mean big people books,” Ty said.

 

“I could start reading big people books to you if you want,” Chris told him. Ty gasped loudly and his eyes widened, lighting up with an incredible excitement.

 

“Really??”

 

“Yeah,” Chris said. “Before you go to bed tonight, I'll get one of my books and read you, like, a chapter or something. Sound good?”

 

“Yes!!” Ty exclaimed, bouncing a little in his seat. “When am I going to bed?”

 

“Not for another five hours or so,” Chris said with a laugh. “But I only have to write roughly one more paragraph for this article, so once it's done I'll make us some dinner and we can watch a movie. What would you like to eat?”

 

“Um...” Ty brought his hand to his mouth and ran his finger over his lips while he thought. The moment he seemed to have come up with an idea was apparent by the way he quickly sat up and stuck his finger in the air. “We should have grilled cheese sandwiches because they are super yummy,” he said.

 

“Grilled cheese it is, then,” Chris said. He quickly went back to work, typing at a million miles a minute. Ty watched him, still having no clue what the strange markings on the screen meant, yet he appeared to be utterly fascinated by them. Chris was very glad to know that he and Ty seemed to have so much in common despite their also plentiful differences.

 

Twenty minutes later the two were in the kitchen, and Ty was trying to be as helpful as he could and was assisting Chris in his sandwich making. Ty was standing on another kitchen chair, next to both Chris and the stove, while Chris was doing his best not to start a fire.

 

Luckily, he managed to keep the apartment flame-free and their meal turned out to be rather delicious. They sat on the couch together afterward and watched another movie Ty had picked, and then another. Ty had asked if they could watch a third, but Chris was starting to grow tired of them and it was drawing too close to Ty's bedtime anyway.

 

“Then will you read to me?” Ty asked, his elation suggesting that he would much prefer this option to any other.

 

“All right. You go get into your pajamas, I'll get a book and meet you in your room.”

 

Ty was bolting down the small hallway to his room before Chris even finished speaking. Although, by the time Chris did finish speaking, he was also entering through the doorway to his own bedroom. He stared at the enormous bookcase shoved against the wall, and the second smaller one beside it. He hoped it wouldn't take too long to find something suitable enough to read to Ty.

 

Then he remembered a specific book, one that his brother (Alex, of course, as David had never taken much of an interest in either of his brothers, especially not Chris) had partially read to him when he was a kid. It may have been the first one that really sparked his interest in reading.

 

Chris grabbed the book from the shelf and headed to Ty's room. Ty was already sitting on his bed against the pillows, patiently waiting in his light blue, overly large shirt and pants that he used to sleep in. Chris sat down on the empty space to Ty's left, and Ty immediately snuggled up against him. Ty tried to rest his head on Chris's chest, but due to height differences, he actually rested his head on Chris's stomach.

 

“OK, daddy, you can read to me now,” Ty said. Chris smiled at him as he opened the book to the first page and began to read.

 

“The lights were all off,” Chris started, making sure that he spoke clearly enough for Ty to understand what he was saying, because Chris always felt that his reading voice was very different from his speaking voice and perhaps not as coherent. “The room was dark except for the tiny bit of sunlight peeking through the window, though the shades were down. It was this way every morning, as the sun tried to claw its way into every bit of the world until it all bled with light... Are you following all this?”

 

“Uh huh,” Ty quickly answered, trying to use this short pause to locate exactly where on the page Chris was. He figured that if he could follow along, he might eventually learn what words were which. Of course, having no knowledge of any of the words, he had no idea where Chris had stopped reading, but he continued searching nonetheless.

 

Ty had given up long before the chapter was over, though. “Do you want me to read more, or...” Chris began to ask, cutting himself off when he realized he wasn't going to receive an answer. He could tell just by the way Ty was breathing that he was asleep.

 

Chris slid out of the bed, careful not to make Ty move so much that he woke up. He made sure that Ty was laying down, and not sitting in an uncomfortable position, and he brought the blanket over his tiny body. Chris leaned over and kissed Ty on the forehead and said, “Goodnight, kid.”

 

[coldplayisawesome]

Chapter Three

 

 

 

Ty came running towards Chris as soon as he spotted him by the door. “Hi, daddy!!” he exclaimed, waving a paper in the air as his arms flailed about in excitement. He promptly ran away again, toward the back corner of the room where a sort of shelf stood, holding what looked like various jackets and bags. Ty grabbed his own backpack and once again ran off.

 

Chris stayed by the door the entire time, mostly because he wasn't sure how many times Ty would move around the room and he figured it would be easier to just stay where he was, though he had also spotted Mrs. Carter aiding her son, and he didn't want to have to go near her.

 

“Come on, let's go now,” Ty commanded as he walked by, grabbing Chris's hand and refusing to stop. Chris found the difference in volume between the classroom and the hallway to be quite impressive. The hall was completely empty, and while the muffled sounds of the class could be heard, it was almost like a whisper now.

 

“You seem to be in a rush to leave,” Chris meagerly noted. Ty looked up at him and flashed an almost crazed smile.

 

“I have something to show to someone,” he vaguely replied, quickening his pace as he dragged Chris toward the exit. He gave no further detail, and before Chris could ask anything else, Ty released his hand and ran to his destination.

 

Ty stopped in front of the desk by the doors, and he stood on his toes so he could see properly. “Hello, Tristan,” he beamed at the dark-haired man. He put his hand on the desk, making sure that the paper he was holding was noticeable.

 

“Hey, Ty,” Tristan kindly replied. “What do you have there?”

 

“Oh, it's a drawing I did in class today,” Ty casually answered. He shoved the paper a little further across the desk. “Wanna see it?”

 

“Sure.” Tristan took the paper from Ty and examined it. Ty stood back some so that he could see without having to put so much pressure on the balls of his feet. Chris slowly walked up to them, feeling more nervous than he could ever recall feeling. Ty made him rather anxious sometimes. “This is really good, Ty. I'm guessing it's supposed to be...”

 

Tristan trailed off as he pointed his eyes at Chris. Ty nodded his head diligently. “Ms. L told us to draw a picture of our hero, and she said that a hero is someone who you look up to, only not just because they're tall, but because you want to be like them and they are good people.” Ty took a short pause, just enough time to shrug his shoulders. “And I figured there was only one person like that who I know of.”

 

“It's quite a likeness, don't you think?” Tristan asked Chris, flipping the drawing around for him to see. In the middle of the paper was what looked like a large smiley face, with giant blue eyes and an abundance of curly, light-colored hair. Chris gaped when he saw it; he was certainly touched by Ty's choice, but he wasn't sure whether to smile or cry. He decided it would be better for him to smile, so he grinned and looked down at Ty, but he couldn't find the right words to say.

 

“Yeah, my daddy is definitely my hero,” Ty said plainly, once again bringing his voice that was his attempt at being subtle. “Because I wanna be like him. He's the smartest man I know, and he's also really nice, and really funny, and really handsome, too.”

 

Tristan leaned over the desk to bring himself a bit closer to Ty, and he held out the drawing for Ty to take back. “I think he's a good choice for a hero,” he quietly said. Ty gave a sly smile and he turned to Chris.

 

“Tristan thinks you're a good choice for a hero,” he told Chris. Chris stared at Ty with wide eyes, and he had the feeling that a rather obvious flush was spreading across his cheeks.

 

“So I heard,” Chris mumbled. Ty smiled at him for a few seconds longer, then he grabbed Chris's hand again.

 

“We have to go home now,” Ty said to Tristan, “so we will be seeing you tomorrow, Tristan. Bye!”

 

“Bye, guys, I hope you both have a lovely day,” Tristan merrily replied. He had been looking at Ty, but he quickly looked over at Chris. Chris met his gaze, and even though it frightened him, he kept his eyes locked with Tristan's for what felt like hours. He could feel himself involuntarily smiling, and he found it impossible to stop.

 

And when it all did actually end, and Chris and Ty finally left the school, Chris no longer felt nervous or embarrassed or worried. He felt oddly confident, and determined.

 

“Daddy, you have to tell him,” Ty urged as Chris helped him into the car. “I did such a good job today telling him all that good stuff about you, and so there is no way that you can just let it go to waste, right? Besides, did you even see the way he smiled at you? Listen, you have to tell him, OK? Do it for me, please?” Ty stretched out the last word, stuck out his bottom lip and gave Chris his pleading look with his eyes as large as he could make them.

 

Despite his confidence, Chris found it a bit difficult to make the promise to Ty. He sighed, and took a few moments before speaking. “Tomorrow, Ty. I'll tell him tomorrow. Does that sound good to you?”

 

“Yes, thank you,” Ty calmly replied. He stretched his tiny arm out and placed his hand on Chris's forearm. “You will not regret it.”

 

“I better not,” Chris joked. Ty laughed a little, not because he thought what Chris had said was funny (it wasn't, really), but because he just couldn't help it. It was an oddly deep sort of laugh, diabolical almost, like his master plan was finally being fulfilled, which in a way it was. Chris sighed and rolled his eyes.

 

The rest of the day seemed to speed by in a blur; Chris could hardly recall doing much of anything before he and Ty were back at the school the next morning. He wished the day hadn't gone by so fast, because he never did enjoy the feeling of butterflies in his stomach and at that particular moment he could feel nothing else. To make it worse, Ty vividly remembered Chris's promise from the day before. Chris was obviously aware of Ty's great memory, so he shouldn't have been surprised, but he had been hoping that there might have been just a slight chance he would forget.

 

Ty didn't say anything to Chris, but the look he gave him before Chris left the classroom more than made up for his lack of words. Chris could feel his hands start to tremble as he walked through the empty hallway towards the exit. His heart beat faster, and he considered just walking on, right through the big glass doors and pretending that he didn't see Tristan at all.

 

“H-Hey Tristan,” Chris forced himself to say as he stopped in front of Tristan's desk. His throat was dangerously dry now and he thought he sounded more like a frog than he should have. Tristan looked up from his work and immediately smiled.

 

Maybe Ty actually is right, Chris thought. Maybe. He was a pretty smart kid, after all.

 

“Hey Chris,” Tristan cheerfully replied, and Chris began to feel his confidence slowly return. Then something changed, and for a few brief moments Tristan looked at him, slightly conflicted. “Uh, I was wondering,” Tristan uncertainly and quickly began, like he was afraid that he might suddenly forget what he was going to say, “maybe, you know, you and I could go out sometime. On a date.”

 

Chris had temporarily stopped breathing, and he was taken aback so much that he almost forgot to answer. “Yeah, definitely,” he said, nodding with as much enthusiasm as possible to make up for his delay. He smiled at Tristan, and though his hands continued to shake, he felt much less nervous now. It was a joyous sort of trembling.

 

“Well, I'm free, like, any time -- you know, except during school hours,” Tristan waved his hand through the air, “so... whenever's good for you.”

 

Chris thought for a few moments. His schedule was basically empty all the time. “I suppose I'll need a few days notice,” he said, tentatively rubbing the back of his neck, “since I'll have to drop Ty off at his mother's and she'd probably like to know ahead of time.”

 

“Right.” Tristan stared off into the distance, biting his lip while he thought for a while. Chris tried not to stare, but he couldn't help it. “How about Thursday? Or Friday, of course, since that's probably better for y-”

 

“Thursday's great,” Chris interrupted, feeling overcome with impatience. He was relieved to see that his quickness hadn't bothered Tristan at all. In fact, it seemed like Tristan was experiencing the same eagerness.

 

“Thursday it is,” he brightly agreed. Then he quickly looked down at his desk.“But I think I should be getting back to work now, I don't want to lose my job.”

 

“Oh, yeah, that wouldn't be good,” Chris said with a small laugh. “I'll see you later.” Chris slowly began to make his way towards the exit, and he was very aware of Tristan's eyes following him the entire time. When he did finally make it outside, he had to stop and make sure that what had just happened had actually happened and wasn't simply a daydream of his. He nearly squealed with joy when he decided that it was the real world he was currently living in.

 

Instead he walked to his car and squealed there, in case anyone had been around before who could have overheard him. Then he decided to stop acting like a teenage girl and drive home.

 

He had been more productive over the prior weekend than he had expected, and so he had already finished his work for that week. Having nothing else that he was required to do, Chris decided to write more of a story that he had been trying to write for several months.

 

It was roughly halfway done, but Chris had hit a snag and ran out of inspiration. Writer's block was always frustrating, even though he knew it would pass eventually. And now, filled with excitement, Chris felt that itch in his fingers, the one that could only be cured by writing. During the drive back to the apartment he started wording out the next part in his head, though he wasn't entirely sure how he had left the story.

 

His computer couldn't load fast enough, and so for a few minutes he resorted to scribbling down his thoughts on some scrap paper sitting beside the tower. He continued to write by hand even after the computer was ready, mostly because he was on a roll and he didn't want to forget what he was going to write. He typed it up once he had written what he planned, and then he figured it wouldn't be such a bad idea to take a quick break. His throat was still rather dry.

 

In the kitchen, as he grabbed a glass of water, Chris looked at the outside of the refrigerator, which was covered in pictures. The newest edition was the picture that Ty had drawn the day before. It was becoming increasingly frightening the longer Chris stared at it. The blue dots for eyes watched him no matter where he stepped, and the smile was rather creepy. It was like looking in some twisted sort of mirror. He tried to pull his eyes away, but he was having difficulty doing so. A flash out of the corner of his eye finally dragged his attention away.

 

The red light on the phone flickered, indicating that there was an unheard message. Chris walked over to the machine and hit a button. It beeped and the message began to play.

 

For a few seconds Chris wondered who had called, but he found his answer very quickly. “Good morning, Chris, this is Penny calling.” He was still surprised, though, because it was not often that Penny phoned him, especially not since he had lost touch with Jonathan.

 

“I just wanted to let you know that Lorraine and Mitch will be out of town for a while,” the message continued. “Apparently Mitch's mother is not doing so well, so they'll be staying with her for a few weeks. They left only an hour ago, in quite a rush, otherwise I expect they would have called themselves. And... I don't have Kirsten's number, so if you could tell her, it would be greatly appreciated. I hope you and Ty are both well, and, you know, don't be shy. You're both welcome to drop by anytime. Well, that's it, really, so have a pleasant day. Goodbye.”

 

Chris picked up the phone and thought for a few moments. He always had trouble remembering Kirsten's phone number. Which was why he had written it and taped the paper to the side of the phone, but he also had trouble remembering that he had done that. It wasn't until he looked back at the base hanging on the wall that he noticed it. He rolled his eyes and mentally smacked himself, then quickly pressed the buttons on the phone accordingly.

 

“Hello?” Kirsten's less than enthused voice answered.

 

“Hi, Kirsten–”

 

“Oh, Chris, do you think you could make this quick? I have class in twenty minutes.”

 

Chris made a face, glad that Kirsten couldn't see him. “Yeah, I just called to let you know that apparently your grandmother is ill or something and your parents are staying with her for a while, so they won't be around.”

 

“Oh man, that sucks,” she replied, though her tone suggested that the news hardly meant anything to her. “Well, OK. Is that all?”

 

“No, actually. I need you to watch Ty Thursday night.”

 

“Thursday?” she sneered.

 

“Yes,” Chris answered with slight annoyance. He always hated how snippy Kirsten could be, and how seemingly unwilling she was to take care of her own son for longer than five minutes. “It'll only be for a few hours, though.”

 

“Why do you need me to watch him?” Kirsten asked in an almost mocking sort of tone, like she knew what the answer was going to be and it amused her.

 

Why do you keep asking questions when you wanted to 'make this quick'? Chris thought. “Because I've got a date. Can you do it or what?” he replied.

 

“Ooh, a date, how special.” Kirsten giggled for a few seconds, but hearing no retort from Chris she decided to stop. She sighed loudly, her breath causing a static sound through the phone. “Fine, I'll watch him.”

 

“Thank you.” Though he knew he shouldn't be so rude, he hung up the phone without saying another word. He shook off his frustration and headed back to his computer. After adding several sentences to what he had written earlier, an idea popped its way into his head.

 

Chris ran to the phone once more, though his memory did not serve him any more than it had last time. Luckily he had the ability to play Penny's message again and to extract her number from that. As soon as the machine gave him his answer, he shut off the message and quickly dialed while the numbers were still fresh in his mind.

 

“Hey,” he beamed into the phone. “How would you like some company this afternoon?”

 

And so it was then arranged that Chris and Ty would stop by Penny's house after Ty was finished with school. Chris decided not to inform Ty of this, though, which led to Ty becoming rather confused on what was supposed to be the drive home.

 

“Daddy, where are we going?” he asked in a small voice as they passed by the building with the bright green awning, which always meant they were leaving town. “I thought we were going home.”

 

“We are going to visit someone,” Chris vaguely responded. Ty scrunched up his nose, trying to think. He was certain that they weren't going to visit his mother, since he knew that she too went to school, and it wasn't late enough for her to be done yet. But he couldn't think of anyone else off the top of his head.

 

“Is it someone I know?” he inquired.

 

“Yes.” There was always the possibility that they would be visiting his grandparents, but Ty didn't think that was right, either; since they were Kirsten's parents (as far as Ty was concerned, he had no other grandparents), Ty never visited them without Kirsten being there as well. “It's someone you haven't seen in a long time.”

 

Ty struggled to think of the identity of this mysterious person for the rest of the ride. Even when they had pulled up to the house he could not come up with the answer. The house did look very familiar to him, though. As he walked up the porch steps he vaguely recalled being led up to the house by a tall man with brown hair.

 

Ty gasped loudly, and at that moment Chris knew he realized where they were. He smiled a little as he brought his hand up and knocked on the door.

 

“Wait, daddy,” Ty urgently said in a hushed voice, trying with all his might to push Chris over to the side of the door. “Go over here!”

 

“Why?” Chris asked, though he did as Ty requested and stepped off to the side.

 

“You'll see,” Ty sneakily replied as he stood in front of the door and grinned widely. A few moments later the door opened, and Ty jumped up a bit, throwing his hands in the air and shouting, “Hi, Penny!!”

 

“Hello, Ty,” Penny cheerfully answered. “I'm very glad you two could make it.”

 

“Two? Oh no, it's just me,” Ty said. He snorted a bit as he tried to contain his laughter, and he shot a furtive glance at Chris. “Yeah, I came here all by myself.”

 

“Oh, really?” Penny tried to sound impressed. She folded her arms across her chest and frowned a little. “That's a shame, I was looking forward to seeing your father as well.”

 

“Well, he's at home.” Another snort, another look in Chris's direction. Ty was trying really hard not to give it away. It took almost everything he had to keep up the facade. “Maybe... maybe next time he'll come, too.”

 

“That would certainly be nice,” Penny said. She let her arms fall to her side, though she held her hand out to Ty. “Why don't you come on in, then? I have some snacks prepared in the kitchen. We can sit and have a chat.”

 

“OK!” Ty exclaimed. Then he leaned forward a bit, and in a giggly voice he said, “But I have something to tell you.”

 

Penny also leaned forward and lowered her voice a bit. “What is it?”

 

“I didn't come here by myself,” Ty whispered, shaking his head lightly. Penny dropped her jaw and acted like the news was a total shock to her. Ty finally let his laughter out. He stood back a little and waved to Chris, in a way that he thought was discreet. Chris took it as his cue to step forward and show himself.

 

“Surprise,” he said with feigned enthusiasm. Penny smiled at him, and Ty completely lost his marbles. His laughter turned into a sort of howling shriek. Penny and Chris watched him for a while, sharing their own laughter for a different reason. After a while, Chris put his hand on Ty's back and said, “All right, kid, I think that's enough.”

 

“Oh, OK, daddy,” Ty said as he tried to calm himself down. Penny held the door open for Chris and Ty, then shut it behind her once they were all inside. Chris led Ty down the small hallway and into the kitchen. Penny brought over a few bowls from the counter and placed them in the middle of the table. Chris and Ty sat down on one side of the table, Penny on the other.

 

Ty placed his hands on the table's surface in an attempt to raise himself up high enough to see. Chris laughed at him, then pulled him into his lap. “Is that better?” he asked Ty.

 

“Uh huh,” Ty happily replied. He put his hands on the table again, for a lack of anything else to do with them.

 

“Ty, it looks like you've grown quite a bit since I last saw you,” Penny said. Ty's eyes seemed to light up at the statement.

 

“Really?” he said in an awed tone. Then he lifted his chin up and grinned smugly. “One day I'm gonna be as big as daddy.”

 

“You've got quite a way to go,” Penny told him, “but I think you'll get there. If you've got your father's genes, certainly. Although, Kirsten's family is on the tall side, too.”

 

“Yeah,” Ty began in his matter-of-fact voice, “I'm probably gonna be at least six feet tall. If not more. Right, daddy?” Ty tried to turn around to see his father, though he didn't have much success. “I'm gonna be a giant.”

 

“You'll be the next Godzilla, Ty,” Chris said. Ty shot him a quizzical look.

 

“What's that?” he said, scrunching up his nose. Chris smiled and shook his head.

 

“Never mind.” Ty shrugged his tiny shoulders and faced Penny. Chris leaned to his left a little so that he could see past the massive mop of hair on Ty's head. “So, Penny, what have you been up to?”

 

“Oh, you know. This and that.” Penny explained for roughly five minutes all that she had done apart from work in the nearly ten months since they had last seen each other. She told him about the garden she had started growing in the backyard earlier that year. Then she talked a little about some things she had done to redecorate the house a bit, since all the decor had been the same for the past ten years, and she had frankly grown tired of it.

 

After Penny had informed them of her goings-on, she asked the same of them. Ty became very excited when he was able to talk about school. He mentioned that the other kids in his class weren't very nice to him, but that he didn't let them get to him.

 

“Oh, oh! And there is this man at my school, too, and his name is Tristan,” Ty quickly said, then he laughed just a little. “Daddy likes him.”

 

“Daddy's got a date with him Thursday night,” Chris casually added. Ty gasped loudly and whipped his head around.

 

“And you didn't tell me?!?!” he incredulously asked. He stared at Chris for a few seconds with his mouth wide open, then he closed it and waved his hand. “Ah, who cares, this is wonderful news!” Then his overactive mind took over and he turned back to Penny. “Penny, can I have a drink? I am really... um...” Ty looked at Chris, and in a low voice he asked, “What's that big word that means really thirsty?”

 

“Parched?” Chris replied.

 

“Yeah,” Ty said to Penny, “I'm that.”

 

“All right, Ty. Why don't you come with me and you can see what I have in the fridge.” Penny stood up, and as she did so, Ty slid down to the floor. With nothing better to do, Chris figured he would join them as well.

 

Ty settled on having just a glass of water. Penny asked Chris if he would like anything, and he politely declined.

 

“Who is that?” Ty asked, pointing to a picture that was being held onto the surface of the refrigerator by a plain yellow magnet. Chris looked at the picture of his younger self and Jonathan, both decked out in their caps and gowns. At first Chris thought Ty had been asking about Jonathan, but he soon realized that he was actually referring to the small child in Chris's arms.

 

“That's you,” Chris told him. “You were almost two when that was taken.”

 

“That's me? I was so tiny!” Ty took a sip of his drink, examined the picture carefully, then nodded firmly. “Yep, I'm definitely going to be super tall when I get bigger.”

 

 

[coldplayer#16]

Coldplay in Wonderland

 

Part 33:

 

 

 

Tori smiled and it wasn't long until they were where Chris wanted them to be, his quaters. He opened the door and let Tori in first, shutting the door behind him and placing the cookies onto the nightstand.

 

"So this is where you stay?" Tori asked.

 

"Yep," Chris said, "I don't know where Will planned on having you stay, but you know, you're more than welcome to stay here."

 

"What about you?"

 

"I can go to Jon, he's just a couple doors away."

 

"Or you can stay here with me."

 

The idea brought a blush to the rabbit's cheeks, "Um . . ."

 

Tori laughed, "It was a joke, genius."

 

"Oh," he said, clearing his throat.

 

Tori laughed and hugged him, "You're cute."

 

Chris blushed and hugged her back, "Can only say the same about you." Tori blushed a very bright pink, which only made him laugh and he kissed her.

 

Tori smiled and didn't let him go, she only let their lips separate for a brief moment, but she quickly pressed hers up to his again. Chris was startled at first, but he started kissing back. He realized what he was doing and broke away.

 

He looked at Tori, surprised, but she just smiled at him, "Gotcha."

 

"That's not funny," Chris said, blushing to a deep red.

 

Tori laughed and hugged him, "I'm sorry, but that was kinda nice."

 

Chris laughed and kissed her, "No. More."

 

Tori rolled her eyes, "Killjoy."

 

"I meant messing with me."

 

"Still . . ."

 

"Hey!"

 

Tori just laughed and kissed him again, "I'll stop now, okay?"

 

"Good," Chris said, grabbing a couple of cookies off the plate, handing one to Tori. She smiled and took it from him, sitting on the bed. Chris sat next to her and started nibbling on the cookie, just enjoying the girl's company.

 

Tori was busy munching on her own cookie and zoned out, so she didn't see the rabbit's hand reach out and end up on her knee. Her eyes went wide and she was surprised, but she saw the rabbit was still busy with the cookie (she could tell he was acting cool). She leaned onto him, her head resting on his shoulder, and then felt his lips press up against her forehead.

 

Chris moved his hand away from her knee and put his arm around her shoulders. The two said nothing, just munching on their treats and even when they were done, Tori didn't move off of the rabbit's shoulder and Chris didn't move his arm.

 

"Man, Jon, you're fast," Phil said, noticing how fast and well done the new outfit was coming.

 

"Yep, lucky for you, I've been doing this so long it doesn't take long," the mad man said, removing the now finished trousers from the manikin, "here."

 

Phil was still in his cat body, but the Hatter knew he wouldn't be for much longer. It was amusing to watch the cat try to find his way out of the fabric which he was trapped under.

 

The Hatter laughed and pulled the pants off of the cat, "You okay?"

 

"Shut up and make me a new shirt," the cat snarled.

 

"Not with that attitude, I'm not."

 

"C'mon, Jon, please?!"

 

The mad man laughed and pulled out the fabric, "Relax, I'm messing with you, besides, I'm not about to-" he stopped, "Did you see that?"

 

"See what," the cat asked, looking around, "What did you see?"

 

"Out the window, there," the Hatter said, pointing, "I swear I just saw something."

 

"A good or a bad something."

 

"Bad."

 

"What kind of bad?"

 

"Uh . . . I'm not sure, it's flying away, quickly too, my guess-"

 

"Yours and mine," Phil said, "bird or something?"

 

"Another one, a much smaller, more nimble one. Something tells me it was one of his."

 

"Should we search for others?"

 

"Yeah, once I get my jacket back, you and I can go around and search. Goodness knows how many he has on us."

 

"Right."

 

--

 

The Hatter was right, that was a spy, a small, red bird, one that had his eyes open and was wittness to the murder of the shape-shifter. He flew fast and flew through his owner's window, landing on the bed and collapsing.

 

"Robin," came a voice, "what happened, are you injured?" 

 

"N-no," the bird said through heavy breaths, "St- Stella, she's-"

 

"SPIT IT OUT!"

 

"She's dead. I'm sorry, your majesty, there was nothing I could do."

 

The king's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He then smiled and laughed, "Well played, little brother, I didn't think he'd have it in him. Did you find out anything else?"

 

"Th- the rabbit," the bird said, "he and the girl-"

 

"It's a girl?!"

 

"Yes, she is, but she definitely doesn't act it. B-but she and the rabbit are quite close."

 

"The same one that's with the Hatter?"

 

"The very same."

 

"Oh, this is interesting," the king smirked, "tell my men to set traps and assemble a small invasion fleet. I want that rabbit."

 

"Your majesty?"

 

"Is it not obvious, my dear little bird? We get him and we're sure to have the Hatter and that girl too."

 

"I can understand why you need her, but the mad man?"

 

"He's much more than mad," the king sighed, "He knows how to play his cards, and plays them well. We give them another scare, capturing the rabbit, he'll have to surrender, otherwise . . ."

 

"Should I also ready a cell?"

 

"And all the necessary tools for the guards," the king said with a sick smile, "I want that rabbit!"

 

[coldplayisawesome]

 

Chapter Four

 

 

 

Tristan took a quick break from looking at the paper in his hands to glance up at Chris. He blinked a few times before speaking. “What are you doing?” he slowly and skeptically asked. Chris froze, his hand on his semi-opened wallet, and stared back at Tristan.

 

“Paying for my half,” Chris innocently replied. Tristan was not satisfied with that answer. He fervently shook his head.

 

“Put that away,” he commanded. “I've got this.”

 

“It's not a problem, really,” Chris insisted, though he still did not move further. He kept his eyes on Tristan. Tristan leaned across the table and placed his hand on Chris's. Chris felt his stomach flip at the touch.

 

“I've got this,” Tristan firmly repeated. Chris gave him a reluctant look. “Listen, I'm the one who asked you out, I'll pay for dinner. It's only fair.”

 

“Well, I was gonna ask you before you asked me,” Chris mumbled. He looked down at their hands and thought for a few moments. “How about this – I'll pay for your part and you can pay for mine.”

 

Tristan stared hard at Chris, his jaw slightly tensed. “All right,” he calmly agreed, sitting back and retracting his arm. He briefly gazed at the check he had placed on the table, memorized the correct number, then slid it across the table for Chris to see.

 

Once they had compiled the appropriate amount of currency, Tristan brought it up to the register at the front of the restaurant. He told Chris to just go ahead and walk out to the car, but Chris had no intention of doing that. He did exit the building, only because it was oddly crowded for a Thursday evening and he didn't want to get in anyone's way. But he waited right outside the door for Tristan.

 

“You're really stubborn, you know that?” Tristan said as he noticed Chris waiting for him. Chris looked up at him and smiled.

 

“Is that a problem?” he asked, confident that he already knew the answer.

 

“No,” Tristan replied, bashfully ducking his head. “I kinda like it.” He scuffed his shoe on the ground a bit, then raised his head. “Come on, then, let's go. The theater awaits our presence.”

 

Chris smiled a little wider as they began to walk. “OK. So, I'm stubborn, and you're bossy–”

 

“Bossy?” Tristan interrupted, though he laughed a little. Chris shot him a look meant to say that Tristan knew he was right. “Well, fine, but you could at least use a more sophisticated word.”

 

Chris nodded as he laughed along. “I do spend an awful lot of time with Ty,” he said. “If I said you were... domineering, is that sophisticated enough for you?”

 

“Ooh, well, aren't you just the smartest man alive?” Tristan mocked. “You're like... a walking thesaurus or something.”

 

“I am the smartest man alive. Haven't you listened to a word Ty has ever said to you?” Chris opened the passenger door of his car like a perfect gentleman as Tristan sat inside. Tristan was smiling when Chris left to walk around to the other side, but as he slid into the driver's seat Tristan had put on a more pensive face, his index finger raised pointedly in the air.

 

“That reminds me,” Tristan began as Chris buckled his seatbelt, now shaking his finger ever so slightly. “I've been meaning to ask for a while – how old are you?”

 

Chris stared at Tristan for a few seconds, his eyes partially narrowed. “Shouldn't you know how old someone is before you, you know, ask them on a date?” Tristan quickly raised an eyebrow as if to say that it was probably a good idea. “I'm twenty-one.”

 

“Wow, you're a lot younger than I thought you were,” Tristan mused, running a hand over his chin. “I mean, you do look twenty-one, I just kinda figured you were closer to my age. Since you have a kid and all.” He repositioned himself and cleared his throat a bit. “So, you were... you were a teenager when you had Ty, then?”

 

“I was sixteen when he was born, yeah,” Chris said. By this point, they were pulling out of the restaurant's parking lot, so Chris had his eyes on the road. But he could sense that Tristan was staring at him, itching to hear more. “It's a long story, at least from my point of view, but... well, certain things happened and I ended up, at fifteen, impregnating a thirteen-year-old girl.”

 

Chris cringed at the memory of that fateful night, and at what this information must have sounded like to Tristan. He was probably loosing points all over the place. But, much to Chris's surprise, the next word out of Tristan's mouth was an astonishing, “Impressive.” Chris couldn't tell if he was being serious. He certainly sounded serious, but that didn't exactly mean anything at all.

 

“I'm lucky her parents didn't have me killed,” Chris exasperatedly replied. “Although, I guess Ty would really be the lucky one. Kirsten isn't a bad person or anything, but she's not very good as a mother.”

 

“You're a very good father,” Tristan said to him, and the admiration in his voice was quite apparent. Chris felt himself blush a little.

 

“Thank you. I try... Sometimes I worry that I'll think I'm doing all right, but in reality I'll have messed up his life and he'll hate me forever.” Chris took a moment to compose himself. He had begun to lose it at the thought of Ty hating him. “Actually, I worry about that a lot,” he hoarsely continued.

 

“You shouldn't worry about it, that kid worships you.” Chris glanced over at Tristan for a moment, as they were temporarily stopped at a red light. Tristan noticed that he looked rather doubtful. “Seriously. I think you would have to murder someone before he even considered hating you.”

 

Chris smiled a little. “Good to know,” he said. The light changed, and they drove off down the road once more. It was only another few minutes before they reached the movie theater. Tristan was out of the car before Chris was, though he waited at the back.

 

Chris hurriedly examined his reflection in the side-view mirror. Despite Ty's confirmation that afternoon that he looked “extremely handsome today,” he didn't exactly feel like it. Even though the date had gone exceedingly well thus far, Chris still felt as nervous as he had at the beginning of the night, if not just a tiny bit more. But he tried to shove his anxious feelings aside, and he hopped out of the car and caught up with Tristan.

 

“So... you thought I was closer to your age, then,” Chris began as they walked down the narrow sidewalk. “How old are you?”

 

Tristan looked up at Chris, lifted his eyebrows and ridiculed, “Shouldn't you know–”

 

“–know how old someone is before you accept a date with them?” Chris finished. He carelessly shrugged a shoulder. “Sure. Hypocrisy, I know. How old are you?” he asked again. Tristan grinned and held up his hands, all five fingers on the left and only two up on the right. Chris was quick to quip, “Oh, so, you're seven?”

 

Tristan laughed as he nodded. “Yep.” He breathed in deep and gathered a bit of confidence, as well as a bit of oxygen. He casually slid his hand against Chris's, and Chris flinched involuntarily at the touch he had certainly not been expecting. It did boost his confidence a little. They simultaneously moved to interlock their fingers. “What movie are we seeing, anyway?”

 

“Um...” Chris paused for several long moments, thinking. “That is a very good question. I don't even know what's playing.”

 

“We are such prepared and organized people,” Tristan remarked as they made it up to the doors of the theater. They stopped inside and managed to make a decision on the movie which they would be viewing, and who would pay for the tickets. It took them nearly ten minutes to decide, but they finally did.

 

Finding a seat in the theater was much easier. They sat somewhere in the middle of the rows, towards the end of the right side. Tristan sat closest to the aisle, though he rested his elbow on the armrest of the chair and slightly leaned into Chris.

 

There were still approximately twenty minutes before the movie was to start. They spent that time talking, as there was not much else to do. Tristan asked Chris about the situation with him and Kirsten, and Chris in turn informed Tristan all about how he had skipped going to college for Ty. Tristan thought that was rather sweet.

 

“Plus, you know, I didn't have any money to go,” Chris said. “I mean, my family is rich, but... they've sort of disowned me.”

 

“They have?”

 

“Yeah. My mother's reaction to me coming out was something along the lines of, 'Get out.'” Chris sighed, staring down at his hands. “Sometimes I remember that day and I can still hear her voice... the emotionless way she spoke... My father didn't say anything. I'm not sure which is worse.”

 

Tristan gently placed his hand on Chris's arm. “I'm sorry,” he softly said. Chris looked up and gave him a tiny smile, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach.

 

“It's OK. I have a lot of other people in my life who have been extremely supportive, and it helps.”

 

“I was lucky, I guess. When I told my parents they were just kinda confused at first, I think. But they accepted it.” Tristan glanced over his shoulder briefly, then turned back to the front of the theater just as quickly. “Shit,” he breathed, though it was loud enough for Chris to hear.

 

“What is it?” Chris asked. Tristan brought a hand up to his forehead and tried to make himself look less noticeable.

 

“My ex is in the row behind us,” he quietly said. “Of course, this would happen to me.” Chris looked back himself. There were only a few people in the row directly behind them. The one who stood out most was a man seated in solitude, his skin wrinkled and his head covered completely in light gray hair.

 

“That rather... um, aged man?”

 

“What?” Tristan sat up a little, and looked over at Chris. “No, no. The blonde girl.”

 

“Oh.” Chris examined the movie-goers once again. There was indeed a blonde girl sitting behind them, not many seats over. She looked up and Chris thought she had spotted him staring, but she didn't appear to have noticed him at all, only Tristan.

 

“Tristan?” she called, though her voice was lowered a bit in order to not disturb the whole theater. Tristan groaned and faced her; he had been caught, there was absolutely no use hiding any longer. He gave an unenthusiastic wave, then turned away.

 

“Is it time for the movie to start yet?” he impatiently asked. Chris took a look at the watch he had conveniently decided to wear that night.

 

“Another five minutes or so,” he answered, apologetically. Tristan sighed, then quickly shook his head.

 

“So, anyway, you were saying?”

 

“Actually, you were saying...” Chris told him, as he stared into Tristan's dark brown eyes. “About your parents.”

 

“Oh, right,” Tristan said. “Yeah, they didn't seem to understand how it was possible for someone to be attracted.... to...” He trailed off, slowly turning around. He seemed to have sensed a presence on his other side, and sure enough he found himself facing the blonde girl.

 

“Tristan, I'm so glad I ran into you,” she said, her tone desperate and high-pitched. “Listen, I wanted to call you, but you seemed to have changed your number, and you also moved, so I didn't know how to contact you. But this is great, I think we should talk–”

 

“Not now, Mary,” Tristan bitterly interrupted. “I'm kind of on a date.”

 

Mary leaned over to see past Tristan. Chris looked back at her and awkwardly waved. Then he focused his attention on the giant screen, feeling just a bit uncomfortable. “Oh,” she said. “Sorry.”

 

Mary remained seated next to Tristan, though none of the three spoke again before the lights dimmed and the previews began to play. Tristan took hold of Chris's hand again, which Chris smiled at. It was a very reassuring gesture.

 

Unfortunately, as the night went on and the movie ran its course, Chris's level of hope wavered until he was almost entirely certain that this would be their only date. It wasn't often that he saw it, but at least twice he noticed Mary leaning over to Tristan and whispering incoherent things to him. Tristan looked like he was trying his best to ignore her, but the last time Chris looked, just before the end of the film, the whispers were coming from Tristan.

 

Nevertheless, Chris was intent on remaining calm no matter what the night – or possibly even the next day – would bring. For a while it seemed as though they had lost Mary once they left the theater. As they walked out into the chilly and dark air, Tristan was in the middle of giving Chris a rather detailed review of the movie they had just seen. Chris had been listening, but staring down at the ground, so he didn't realize when Tristan had stopped walking.

 

“Wait, Chris,” Tristan said, pulling back Chris's arm to stop him before he went off the narrow sidewalk. Chris spun in place and faced the man before him; oddly enough he had never before noticed just how tall he was compared to Tristan, who couldn't have been more than five feet and nine inches, if that.

 

“Yeah?” Chris asked, finishing by biting his lip gently, preparing himself for what he knew was to come.

 

“I had a really great time tonight,” Tristan began with great sincerity. “You're a really nice guy... and you're also very hot. In a dorky sort of way.” Tristan smiled to indicate that this was meant to be taken as a compliment.

 

“I had a great time, too,” Chris carefully agreed.

 

“But, um...” Tristan turned his head to the side, his eyes glancing behind him. A blond woman stood in the distance, waiting. “Well, Mary wants to have a talk... So I think I'll just catch a ride home from her.” Tristan looked back at Chris, his eyes wrought with sympathy. “We'll probably end up getting back together. I'm sorry,” he quietly added.

 

“It's OK,” Chris said, with some confidence that what he was saying was true and indeed how he felt. “There's always that one person, right?”

 

“Yeah.” Tristan took a small step closer to Chris, though he kept his head down. “It's a shame, though. I've always wanted to fall in love with a boy. But I guess that's just not for me.” Chris felt just a tiny wave of sadness wash over him. Tristan looked up. “Is it too much to ask for just one kiss?”

 

Chris semi-consciously lifted a hand to Tristan's face and stroked his cheek. There was some part of him that was desperately trying to inform himself that there was not one good reason why he should be doing this, but that part failed to get the message through. He was halfway to bringing up his other hand and leaning in when Tristan grabbed both of his hands in midair. Chris froze momentarily while Tristan relocated Chris's hands, placing them firmly on his waist. Then Tristan wrapped his arms around Chris's shoulders and stretched his body up while simultaneously pulling Chris down towards him.

 

Tristan was apparently not at all shy about putting everything he had into the kiss, even though they were standing in the middle of a perfectly public place. In a way that made Chris feel better.

 

“I'm sorry,” Tristan whispered again, his lips a mere inch from Chris's. “But... it seems like you're waiting for someone else, anyway.”

 

“I am?”

 

“There's always that one person, right?” Tristan replied. “He's out there somewhere, waiting for you, too. He's a lucky guy.”

 

A pair of bright green eyes flashed in his mind, and Chris felt like his heart had sunken down into his stomach. “Oh...”

 

“I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Tristan said, and the conversation ended there. The night ended there. Tristan immediately walked away, and after only a few more moments, so did Chris.

 

Chris drove to Kirsten's apartment – a one-bedroom payed for entirely by her parents – in total silence. If he was alone in the car, he might usually turn on the radio to keep himself company, but not in this instance. He didn't even think about where he was driving or how he was driving. He just did it, and the entire time he kept replaying Tristan's words in his mind.

 

He knew who Tristan was talking about, or who he thought Tristan may have been talking about, even if Tristan had not intended to mean any specific person. But it didn't feel like that was true, and though Chris was so very young, he was overwhelmed by the feeling that it might take him forever to find the person Tristan actually meant. It seemed impossible that he had already met this someone.

 

For the few brief moments that he was not incessantly thinking about Jonathan, Chris wondered what he would be obsessing over had Tristan not said what he did. Perhaps he would have been questioning why exactly it was that he didn't feel as sad or annoyed as he should have with Tristan, because in truth he had just been treated rather poorly by someone he had really liked. He should have been pissed, but he thought it was safe to say that he mostly didn't care because Tristan didn't mean as much to him as Jonathan had, and that was all that Chris's mind could focus on.

 

It was approximately ten-thirty when Chris paused his agonizing, turned off the car, and made his way to Kirsten's door. Ty would no doubt have been asleep for a while now. Chris hated the idea of having to wake up Ty, but it was what had to be done.

 

“Hey!” Kirsten brightly greeted Chris as she opened the door. She didn't invite him in, or say anything else at all, which led him to feel slightly apprehensive.

 

“Hey,” Chris replied in a lackluster tone. “I assume he's asleep, right?” He also assumed Kirsten would understand who he was referring to, though he felt that needn't be said.

 

“Yeah, I was actually thinking that maybe he could just spend the night here,” she said. “I can take him to school in the morning.”

 

“He doesn't have any clothes-” Chris began, though as tentative as he sounded, he was certainly considering Kirsten's offer. He really did hate waking Ty up, which was one of the reasons he always made sure Ty was in his bed long before he was tired enough to fall asleep.

 

“He still has some stuff you left here from the last time he stayed the night,” Kirsten explained. “He's got his school stuff, and I have a class in the morning anyway. I can drop him off and you can pick him up later and bring him back home.”

 

Chris thought for a few minutes. Even though it almost felt like he was abandoning his child, a night to himself didn't sound half bad. And it was probably important for Ty to spend more time with his mother every now and then.

 

“All right,” he finally agreed. “Good night, then.”

 

Chris started to walk away, but Kirsten practically shouted, “No, wait!” She stepped outside the apartment, quietly shutting the door behind her. “So, how was your date?”

 

“It was... good,” Chris truthfully replied.

 

“But not bring-him-home-for-the-night good, huh?” Kirsten asked, deviously raising an eyebrow. Chris shook his head.

 

“He left with his ex-girlfriend. I suspect they're probably already back together,” he replied with a quick shrug. “And anyway, what makes you think that I do that sort of thing on a first date? I'm not you, after all.”

 

Kirsten dropped her mouth open in offense. “Excuse me? You know, you are just as bad as all those other girls in my high school.” As Kirsten continued, she used her hands to aid her speech. “Oh, Kirsten had a baby when she was fourteen, she must be a slut! It's not true! And I don't see why, but everyone has always thought I try to get with every guy I see!”

 

“Hey, I have that problem, too,” Chris joked. Kirsten was far from amused.

 

“Besides,” she snidely went on, “I'll have you know that next week is mine and Tom's six-month anniversary. So there.”

 

“Six months, wow,” Chris said with feigned impression. “The whole long distance thing is working for you guys, then?”

 

“Yes,” Kirsten plainly replied. “He's still in America, but next week he's going to fly over, and take me out to dinner.” Her voice grew an airy tone of admiration, like the love-sick teenage girl she was. “He is so sweet. I love him so much, I really do. I have no idea what I would do without him in my life.”

 

Chris tried to ignore what he felt was a stereotypically young misunderstanding of love, even though he couldn't be so sure that it wasn't that very particular emotion he had felt so long ago, and still longed for every now and then.

 

“Do you always have a thing for your brother's friends?” he asked.

 

Kirsten narrowed her eyes, though she may have actually been trying to remember how many of her romantic interests had not been linked to her brother in any way. “Well, you were never friends with Devon,” she answered.

 

“Kirsten,” Chris slowly began, placing a hand on her shoulder as if she were a child, “having a thing for me and having a thing with me are two totally different... um, things.”

 

Kirsten thought for a few moments, her expression twisted as if she had actually never thought of that before. She tried to ignore it. “Whatever,” she said.

 

“Yeah, well, speaking of, perhaps I should leave and you should go look after our child for once.” Chris wasn't sure if he was speaking to purposely anger Kirsten, but it seemed to be working regardless.

 

“Hey, you don't know what it's like to be in uni and constantly swamped with work,” she defensively snapped. “I mean, I barely have time to spend with my friends, let alone take care of a child. You have no idea what that's like.”

 

Chris refrained from rolling his eyes, refrained from pulling out the speeches about how Kirsten should have considered that while her clothes were still on or how he obviously had never had to make any sacrifices at all (which went well with the eye rolling). “And you,” he said, pointing his index finger at her while gradually walking away, “have no idea what it's like getting a five-year-old ready first thing in the morning.” He left at that point; he had considered finishing with a “good luck!” but he didn't feel much like using sarcasm, and there was no way he would have said it with any other inflection.

 

 

[Kristal Siderglace]

So how this works? I have just to post my FF here? :D

...ok!

 

2012-09-12 OlympiaStadion, Munich, Germany...Chris sounded a little sad to me and I wondered about what could have happened...it was the day after Jonny' b-day so...this is what came into my mind.

 

Forgive me for the mistakes...I'm not so good with English.

I write it first in Italian so if there is someone that is Italian and want to read it in the original version [that is better than this ofc] just PMs me.

 

 

(x^2+y^2-1)^3-x^2y^3=0 [Yes, this is the title :laugh3:]

Chapter 1

 

 

 

11th September

With all the burden that this date carries with itself how it could ever be an happy date? How could something happen the 11th September and be joyful? There is something in this date, something sad: September is always shrouded in this saddness, summer is end, the autumn is just around the corner, the mind is lost in the memories of the light-hearted months just passed but you are back to your everyday routine, in September you feel suspended, as it is a month that doesn’t exist. And then the 11, it’s an odd number and the odd numbers for some reason are always gloomy, as the disparity implies the loneliness. For example if you have 9 socks one of them will always be unmatched, unmatched socks are sad, they are senseless, they have no reason to be. Obviously, in the case of the 9 it could be divided by 3 [not socks of course! It would make any sense...] but at this point prime numbers come into play, those numbers that are divisible just by 1 and themselves, Jonny explained it to him, when you have to do with a prime number it doesn’t matter how hard you try, you will never manage to not leave something left, aside from the 2, the 2 is a special number, it’s the only prime number that is even: you can divide it by 1 and it will remain 2, you can divide it by 2 and it will become 1...as if that 2 would be indissoluble, as if the things that are perfectly matched couldn’t fade away, as if actually behind that 2 an inseparable unit is hidden. From this point of view prime numbers aren’t so sad, if you are part of a 2 you are complete...but the 11 is a prime number like the others, one of those that will always leave something alone...an unmatched sock that alone is nothing.

 

Those were the thoughts that flooded Chris’ mind while, in his hotel room, he stared at the white ceiling. It was the 11th September, from a couple of hours already, and him, as often happened, not able to sleep, ended losing himself in the twists and turns of his mind. Maybe he could write a song about prime numbers but just thinking about it brought him a pang in his stomach. There already was a time when he turned to maths to explain his feelings but those days were distant and them ended 7 years ago wih the release of X&Y. With a load more and more heavy and now with the fear of being trapped in memories and feeling that like ghosts of his past were resurfacing, Chris turned over the bedside table to take a little pill from a white bottle and swallowing it, waiting for the effect that he knew wouldn’t be late, his only thought was that behind the 11th September there was nothing special, not one hidden meaning into the numbers, just the birthday of his best friend and band mate Jonathan Buckland, and that if there was something really special in that matter that was certainly Jonny and not a stupid number.

 

 

[coldplayer#16]

Coldplay in Wonderland

 

Part 34:

 

 

 

"Should we alert Will?" Phil asked.

 

"Yes, and fast, I have a bad feeling about this," the Hatter said, "and we need to hide Tori."

 

"What about Chris?"

 

"What do you think?"

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"Where does he go? I mean, should get him a sword or something?"

 

"That rabbit hasn't swung a sword in his life," the Hatter said, "He needs no weapon, he was a street fighter for almost ten years and knows how to take down a knight in full armour. He just needs to rest and keep his energy. And if worse comes to worse, you know what we can do."

 

"He hates that, and you know it."

 

"I know, but what do you expect? The poor boy was abused, never had an ounce of kindness shown toward him until he met me. His ears were an open target and he associates that with-"

 

"I know this! I was victim to it. He turns into a monster."

 

"I believe it, he's not himself, his eyes even change."

 

"I remember," Phil said, "but, moving on?"

 

"Yes, yes," the Hatter agreed, "I'll get Tori to safety, Chris can keep guard I guess."

 

"You think that's a good idea?"

 

"Nope, but I don't want him getting himself hurt even more. If something raids, and we need to, I'll tell you."

 

"Alright, fine," Phil said, "I'll go tell the king." The cat disappeared and the Hatter headed off to Chris's room.

 

The mad man knocked on the door and the couple sat up. Chris kicked himself off the bed and answered the door, "Can I help you?"

 

"Actually, yes, you can," the Hatter smiled, "Tori, come along, and you too. We need to get somewhere safe."

 

"Pardon?"

 

"Just, come on, we need to go, now."

 

Tori sighed and got up, taking off the jacket, "First, here, and second, why?"

 

"Thank you," he said, pulling the jacket over his shoulders, "and I fear there's going to be another raid, only a bigger one."

 

"You mean another bird after me?"

 

"Or something else."

 

"Right, wouldn't it make more sense for me to stay and fight? I mean, I have to learn to fight and stuff for tomorrow, so-"

 

"You're plenty ready, now come along, I fear the worst is going to come crashing through these walls at any moment."

 

Tori looked at Chris, but he just shrugged and took her hand, following Jon to wherever he needed them to be. The mad man led them to the very bottom of the castle, basically a dungeon, but it had lights and not a single prisoner.

 

"Jon, why, I mean-" Chris began.

 

"It's deep, it's solid, and even of the castle fell, this place would still be here," the mad man said, "Just trust me."

 

"Says the man who still has yet to serve me tea without spiking it somehow first," Tori said.

 

"Don't question my methods. Just stay here, and stay safe."

 

"Why am I here?" Chris asked.

 

"Keep guard, and I don't want you getting hurt either. You've taken enough damage for one day."

 

"Okay?"

 

"Just trust me," the Hatter said, drawing his sword, "Always trust a mad man." He ran up the step and slammed the door shut behind him, locking it with at least five different blots.

 

"Well, I guess we're stuck here for a bit," Tori said, "What time is it?"

 

Chris pulled his watch out from his vest pocket, "Quarter after eight."

 

"Really, feels later than that."

 

"You're telling me."

 

There was a crash and a high squawk upstairs, and the Hatter yelling, "DIE YE FOWL BEAST!!" 

 

"And so it begins," Tori smiled, "what kind of creature is it?"

 

"Another bird," Chris said, "Dunno which though."

 

"Is that a common thing for the evil king?"

 

Chris laughed, "He has a name, you know?"

 

"Well, no one's told me. What is it?"

 

"Guy," Chris said, "Pretty fitting name for a human, actually, and I assure he's not evil, just possessed."

 

"Chris, think about what you just said."

 

"Yeah, I know, I know," the rabbit said, hearing another crash and a snapping sound, "That doesn't sound good."

 

"No, it doesn't," Tori said, drawing the dagger, "I think we should go help."

 

"No, the Hatter told us to stay put, and did you forget about the locks?"

 

The girl shrugged, "Break down the door."

 

"We're staying put," Chris said.

 

"Well, I'm not, but you're more than welcome to."

 

Tori didn't even get the chance to move, Chris let instinct kick in and kicked the dagger out of her hand, grabbing the girl with one arm and catching the dagger with his free hand.

 

"I said we're staying here,"  he said, his tone stern and almost scolding.

 

"How did you do that?"

 

Chris shook his head and looked at his hand, and then at Tori, "Huh?"

 

"How did you do that?!"

 

"I-I honestly don't know," the rabbit said, his voice weak and shaking, "I just blacked out, I guess."

 

"You blacked out?"

 

Chris slid the dagger into one of his belt loops and sighed, remember when I said I was considered mad?"

 

"Yeah, I thought you weren't actually nuts though."

 

"Well, not like Jon, but I am, just a very different kind."

 

"I don't think I follow."

 

There was another crash and the door caved in, a giant bird-beast falling in and then Phil appeared behind Chris, his upper body still exposed and scratched up pretty badly.

 

"Time to let go, Romeo," he said, pushing Tori aside and grabbing the rabbit, "Show time."

 

"No, no, Phil, WAIT!" 

 

Phil grabbed hold of the rabbit's ears and tugged, causing Chris to scream in a voice too high for any man to have, and once Phil let go, it was obvious he was not the same. His eyes turned red and he let out a roar, turning to Phil and looked about ready to rip his face off.

 

Phil pointed at the bird, now on its feet and eyes on Tori, ready to attack. Chris took one solid bound and smashed the beast's beak, bouncing off the wall and then the ceiling, ramming himself into the creature's back. The beast squawked and fell to the side, and Chris rolled off its back and landed on the floor. He didn't hesitate to get his ground, he turned on the balls of his feet and jumped forward, grabbing the beast's wing and then pulled it the other way.

 

Phil realized what he was doing and grabbed Tori, disappearing and taking her to the castle entrance.

 

"What in the name of God was THAT?!" Tori yelled, her voice high and heart pounding.

 

"Chris?" Phil asked.

 

"That thing was NOT Chris, what'd you do to him?!" There was a loud crashing sound and a cry that was clearly the bird's last breath, "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

 

"You ever hear the expression 'hot cross buns'?" Phil asked.

 

"This is no time for jokes!"

 

"It's not a joke! It actually relates to what you just saw." Tori raised an eyebrow and Phil sighed, "You are kind of right by saying that wasn't Chris, it's really not, it's his most primal instincts kicking in and taking over all of him, he doesn't know what he's doing, he calls it 'blacking out'."

 

"Is that so?" Tori said, a sudden sinking in her stomach.

 

"Indeed, and like I said, he has almost no recollection of what happened. He doesn't remember the majority of his childhood because of it, if you can call it a childhood."

 

"So, what's this got to do with 'hot cross buns'?"

 

"The proper name for it," Phil said, letting out a small laugh, "Hot Cross Bunny. Sound innocent enough, but they'll kill ya, if you give them the chance."

 

[coldplayisawesome]

 

Chapter Five

 

 

 

Ty confidently strode through the glass doors that were still too big for him, although he did have a tiny fear that one of them would swing back and hit him. But the doors were kind to him, and he made it through unharmed. He walked for a little bit, then paused, turned around, and went forward to Tristan's desk.

 

“Good morning, Tristan!” he gleefully shouted, barely able to see over the top of the desk. He put his arms on the surface to lift himself up, and he could feel his backpack scrunch up the back of his shirt. Tristan looked up and smiled halfheartedly.

 

“Good morning, Ty,” he answered. His eyes quickly scanned the immediate area, not finding whatever it was they were looking for. “Where's your dad?”

 

“At home,” Ty casually replied, before realizing that he might need to explain further. “I stayed with mommy last night, and she drove me to school. But she said that I was big enough to walk in all by myself.” Ty grinned a smug grin and proudly puffed out his chest a little. Tristan felt a bit bad, but he thought it best to let Ty think what he wanted to.

 

“I see. But your dad will pick you up later, yeah?” he hopefully asked, and Ty enthusiastically nodded. Tristan quietly exhaled a breath of relief, though the pinch of guilt he had felt since he had returned home the night before had not subsided.

 

“Uh huh. That's what mommy told me, anyway.” Then Ty's eyes lit up a little, and though it worsened his already obstructed view he leaned closer to the desk. “What was your date like, huh? Huh?”

 

“It was great,” Tristan instantly told him, slightly uncomfortable, without giving it much thought, and he quickly devised a plan to avoid talking to Ty about matters he thought were fairly irrelevant to a five-year-old. “I think you should be headed to class now, though.” His plan worked rather well.

 

“Oh yeah,” Ty mumbled, as if to say that he had forgotten all about school, but that this reminder was not a huge disappointment, merely a fact of life. He withdrew his arms and let them hang at his side, his backpack and shirt falling back into their proper places. “Well, goodbye, Tristan.”

 

Tristan smiled and watched Ty start to walk away. “Goodbye, Ty. You know where the room is, right?” he asked after a last-minute thought.

 

“Yes, I know exactly where it is,” Ty called as he trudged down the hallway, not bothering to look back. He felt a sort of sadness walking this path without Chris by his side, but he tried his best to ignore it. He liked being happy more than sad, which was not at all unreasonable.

 

He wasn't quite sure if he would be able to open the door to the classroom once he reached it. Ty would watch Chris open it every day with ease, but somehow to him the door looked even bigger than the glass ones at the entrance.

 

Ty grabbed the door knob firmly with both hands. He twisted his arms to turn the handle, just as he had seen Chris do so many times, hoping that he had just enough strength to make it work. The first attempt failed. Ty let his hands fall to his side, took a deep breath, and tried again.

 

He felt rather frustrated. His father had always told him that he was a smart boy, but it didn't really require brains to open a door. Luckily, he managed to find some patience, and so he kept his cool and continued to unsuccessfully open the door, until someone else walked up to help.

 

“Need some help with that?” a woman's voice asked. Ty looked up to his right to see a woman in a light pink dress standing beside him, a little girl he recognized holding her hand.

 

“Yes, please,” Ty replied, stepping aside so the lady could get to the door. The little girl smiled at Ty and waved to him.

 

“Hi, Ty,” she cheerfully said. “Where's your dad?”

 

“Hello, Alicia. My daddy's at home, because I stayed at my mommy's house last night and she brought me to school,” he casually explained. Alicia looked shocked by this information.

 

“You mean your parents don't live in the same house?” she asked, her tone just a pitch higher. Ty shook his head.

 

“Nah, my mommy lives near the college and my daddy and me live near... here,” he told her. She seemed to be very intrigued by what Ty was saying. Her mother coughed a little to catch their attention.

 

“Come on, you two,” she said, holding the door open for the children to pass through. Ty, being the little gentleman he was, gestured to let Alicia walk in front of him. She smiled and thanked him, then strolled past her mother and into the classroom.

 

“Thank you for opening the door,” Ty said to the woman as he walked by. “I'm not big enough yet to do it by myself.”

 

“You're welcome,” the woman kindly replied.

 

Ty walked over to the shelves in the corner and put his backpack in its proper spot. He made sure first that he had retrieved what he needed from it, then he set off for his desk. The only other child at the makeshift table was Daren, which made Ty feel a little uneasy. Daren had not said much to him in the past week, but he was still worried that Daren might start to again, and that he might not be able to ignore him this time. He didn't want to break his promise to his father.

 

“Nice clothes, Crymoan,” Daren sneered. Ty looked up at him, then down at his clothes. So, his shirt was a little small, and had a picture of the star of a television show aimed mostly towards toddlers on it. His pants were just regular jeans. He saw nothing wrong with either of those things. Plus, his mother had told him that he had no choice but to wear those clothes.

 

“Thanks,” Ty chose to say in reply, hoping that it would work. Daren snorted at him, and he looked as though he wanted to say more, but couldn't think of anything. Ty counted this as a victory.

 

“I think you look very stylish today, Ty,” Alicia said as she took her seat beside him. Ty beamed at her and sat down himself.

 

“Thank you, Alicia,” he replied, and this time he was very sincere. He shot a sideways glance at Daren, eyes narrowed slightly, but Daren didn't seem to notice. Ty was fine with that. He turned and scanned the classroom for the teacher instead, keeping his eyes on her once he had located her among the sea of people. He usually did that every morning, just sat and waited for class to start.

 

Meanwhile, Chris was laying down, staring at the unused half of his bed. He didn't really have to be up and about at any particular time, which always felt weird to him after years of being forced to wake up for school, both his and now Ty's. He could think of nothing better to do than stare.

 

And he could think of nothing else but Jonathan. He still vividly remembered the first night Jonathan had stayed over, before Chris and Ty had even moved in entirely. He remembered just how nervous he was before he asked Jonathan to stay, and how ridiculous he thought it was to be nervous.

 

Ty had remained at Kirsten's house, and Chris was to pick him up the day after, along with Ty's leftover belongings. Therefore, Chris had the apartment all to himself, and while he wouldn't have minded being alone for the night, he really wanted to be with Jonathan.

 

So he had asked, and had Jonathan agreed. That night they were together as they never had been, and Chris could recall feeling happier than he ever had before when he fell asleep knowing that Jonathan was laying beside him. And in the morning, when he woke up to find that Jonathan had wrapped an arm around his back, he knew that he wanted the rest of his life to be like that.

 

But he also knew it wouldn't be permanent. It couldn't be permanent. Jonathan was to go off to college, to live on his own. Even if he could have lived with them, Chris had prepared himself for the day when Jonathan wanted to leave, when he wanted a family of his own, because he was positive that it would happen. Still, no amount of preparing would have been enough, and he found himself unable to let go, even after two years.

 

He closed his eyes, desperately wishing that he could go back to that night. He was honestly afraid that he could never feel that happy again. He tried to tell himself that it shouldn't matter, that he shouldn't be dependent upon someone who wasn't even around anymore for happiness and that he should be more than happy with the life he already had. In fact, he began to whisper these things to himself while he was still looking at the inside of his eyelids.

 

Yet, as Chris left the apartment to retrieve his son after a few more hours of brooding around, he couldn't help feeling a bit put off. For two weeks he would drive to that school, trying to hide it but ultimately anticipating the moment he finally got to see Tristan smiling at him, and finally heard Tristan call his name. Now, even that was gone. Or so he had thought.

 

Chris pulled into the school parking lot and realized that he was at least five minutes early. He didn't feel like sitting and waiting in the car, so he walked in. He thought about not looking to see if Tristan was there, and sparing himself whatever unwanted feelings were sure to arise. He couldn't get away with it so easily though, especially not once Tristan called out to him.

 

“Can I talk to you real quick?” Tristan asked after Chris had stopped and faced him. Without saying a word, Chris walked over to his desk. Tristan examined him for a while. “Are you OK?”

 

“I'm fine,” Chris blatantly lied, his miserable state becoming even more apparent by the second. “How did it go last night? You know, after...” He waved his hand to signify what he meant to say. Tristan tilted his head slightly from side to side.

 

“It was all right,” he shrugged. “Mary and I walked around for a few hours, talking.”

 

“Did you guys...?” Chris began, then he didn't feel like finishing his question. Tristan seemed to understand what he was saying, anyway.

 

“No, actually. Not... yet.” Chris knew he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up, but Tristan's answer as well as the unconvincing and perhaps even uninterested tone he spoke with during the last statement made something in his brain jump and tell him to stop being so melancholy. “...Why?” Chris opened his mouth to answer, but he wasn't sure how to reply. “Because, you know... Mary and I did all that talking, and... I'm not so convinced that she actually is my one person. I mean, she was the one who broke up with me in the first place. Now it just seems like she's changed, and not really for the better.”

 

“Are – are you saying that you would still want to fall in love with a boy?” Chris quietly asked, trying his hardest not to blush as he said it, though it was basically out of his control. Luckily, he wasn't alone. Tristan looked down at his desk, but it didn't hide his flushed cheeks.

 

“I could probably fall in love with you,” he practically muttered. He looked back up at Chris and gave a sort of grimace. “So, does this mean that I didn't totally blow it last night? I kinda realized when I got home last night that I made a huge mistake. I shouldn't have been such a...” Tristan tried to find a word suitable to say in an elementary school- “jerk to you, and I definitely should not have left you like that.”

 

“Yeah...”

 

“I'm sorry. I guess girls just make me think very irrationally, or maybe not at all.” Tristan furrowed his brow a bit, then he quickly shook his head and waved his hand in the air. “And I know that doesn't really make up for what I did. But... I could try to make it up to you some other way.”

 

Chris let his bright blue eyes roam over Tristan's image for a bit. He wasn't really hesitating with his answer; his delayed reply was more to torture Tristan with the wait. “All right,” he finally said. Tristan genuinely smiled at him, and Chris felt a weird tingling in his veins. He thought of how strange it would be if he did fall in love with someone who wasn't Jonathan, but he also thought that maybe he did have a chance at happiness now.

 

As the glass entrance doors opened and a woman strolled through, Tristan cleared his throat and said, “I guess you should go get your son now, huh?”

 

“Yes, I should,” Chris replied, pointing his index finger into the air. He had oddly almost forgotten they were even in the school. “I'll be right back.”

 

When Chris entered the small classroom down the hall, Ty came rushing towards him, much quicker than he usually did. He already had his backpack on, and he appeared to be completely ready to leave.

 

“Daddy!!” Ty shouted, jumping and stretching his arms up as far as they would go. Chris laughed as he picked Ty up. “I missed you lots!”

 

“I missed you, too, kid,” Chris told him. “But did you have a good time with your mum?”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Ty said, nodding happily. “Can we go home now?”

 

“Yes, we can. Would you like to say goodbye to your friends?” Ty thought for a few moments, twisting his mouth around. “You know, it's Friday. So you won't see them for a few days.”

 

“Oh, I'll say goodbye to them.” Chris set him down, and Ty ran off to the table where Alicia and another small boy stood. Ty said a few words (actually, it looked more like he said a hundred words within a few seconds – an area in which he definitely took after Chris) and waved to his friends, which Chris found amusing.

 

A minute or so later, the two were standing at Tristan's desk once more. Ty watched in delight as Chris and Tristan talked, over what he had no idea. He was just happy to see his father happy. He did hear something about Tristan visiting them once he was finished with work.

 

Chris turned to Ty. “You don't mind if Tristan comes over, do you?” he asked. Ty shook his head. Chris smiled, which in turn made Ty smile, and he spoke to Tristan again. “So yeah, you can come over tonight.”

 

“Well, all right, then!” Tristan beamed. “I'll call first, of course. It probably won't be right after I get out. Maybe like an hour after.”

 

“OK,” Chris simply replied. Then after a few seconds, he was struck with a thought. “Oh, but I should warn you – Ty and I have some pretty intricate plans for this evening.” Chris shot a devious glance at Ty, who returned the look. Tristan laughed as he raised his eyebrows.

 

“Well, that should be interesting.”

 

Chris nodded a little. “We'll let you get back to work, then. Um, see you later.” Chris hesitated at first, but then he quickly leaned forward and gave Tristan a peck on the cheek. Ty was sure to make fun of him as soon as they left the building. He rolled his eyes; after all, Ty had been the one pushing for Chris to go out with Tristan anyway. And he was five years old.

 

At six that evening, Chris received the call from Tristan informing him that he would be on his way momentarily and that he would arrive at their apartment within the next ten or fifteen minutes. It was actually precisely eleven minutes after Chris set the phone back on the receiver that Tristan knocked upon their door.

 

“Quickly, quickly,” Chris said as he opened the door, pulling Tristan inside and being oddly quiet. All Tristan could do was give him a questioning look. As soon as they were both standing in the apartment, still by the door, Chris continued, “OK. For or against?”

 

Tristan figured he didn't have time to ask what Chris meant, and that if he did he probably would not have been given a real answer. So he just chose. “Uh... for?”

 

“Good. What you need to do is-” Chris cut himself off, grabbing Tristan's arm and slowly leading him towards the small hallway that contained both bedrooms. “Go all the way down to the end of the hall. The door on the right is Ty's. He'll tell you everything you need to know.”

 

“OK.” Tristan followed Chris's direction and walked down the hallway without looking back. He could hear Chris scrambling about in the other room, but he kept going with his eyes set on his destination. Ty was standing on his bed (though even with the extra height he was still not taller than Tristan) looking very mighty and sporting a red cape and yellow paper crown.

 

“Oh, hello, Tristan,” he bouncily greeted the man. “I see you have decided to remain loyal to your king.”

 

“Yeah, I guess I have.” Tristan took a few steps into the room, rubbing his arm with his other hand. “So.. Chris said you'd tell me everything I need to know...”

 

“Yes, yes!” Ty jumped off the bed and landed a foot away from Tristan. “Well, today I have a big speech to deliver to my people. But there is a chance that someone could try to 'sassinate me-”

 

“Assassinate you?” Tristan asked, while simultaneously wondering how it was that a young child could have such an expanded vocabulary.

 

“Yes, uh-sassinate me. So, you are going to be my bodyguard. But it is a dangerous job, Tristan. You have to be prepared to take a bullet for me.”

 

Every now and then Tristan would realize that it was a little strange for him to be taking orders from someone whose head he could see right over if he looked straight out in front of him. Nevertheless, he listened to every word that Ty said to him, and he agreed with every question he was asked.

 

Ty informed Tristan that it might also be necessary to revive him at some point, though he didn't explain how. Once his instructions were finished, there was nothing to do but wait. Tristan sat at the foot of Ty's bed and watched as Ty paced the floor, fiddling with his crown.

 

Then an alarm went off in the room, startling Tristan. Ty merely walked to the alarm clock by his bed and shut if off. He turned to Tristan.

 

“It's time,” he said, his stony voice indicating that he took this very seriously. Tristan, unsure of how precisely to respond, nodded silently. Ty walked over to where Tristan was seated and placed a hand on Tristan's back, trying to move him. Tristan stood up on cue, and followed Ty out of the room and down the hallway. As they entered the living room, it was apparent that in the time passed since Tristan's arrival, Chris had disappeared.

 

Ty led Tristan around the sofa to the area in front of the television. From there Tristan had a clear view of the kitchen. Still no sign of Chris. The silence that clouded the room seemed normal, until Tristan turned to see that Ty was staring up at him, waiting.

 

“You have to introduce me,” he softly said in response to Tristan's quizzical expression.

 

“Oh. Uh...” Tristan turned to the couch, the imaginary audience. “L-Ladies and, uh, gentlemen, uh... King Ty,” he awkwardly said, limply gesturing to Ty. Ty leaned closer to him.

 

“King Tyrone,” he corrected. Then he stood back and with greater volume said, “A fierce name for a fierce king.” Some laughter erupted from somewhere in the room, soft and quiet laughter, but loud enough for Tristan to hear. It startled him at first, then his eyes alertly darted around the room in search of Chris. But he found nothing.

 

He felt a tug on the sleeve of his shirt. “King Tyrone,” he announced, repeating his gesture towards Ty with more professionalism. Ty cleared his throat and stepped forward.

 

“Good evening, citizens of this apartment,” Ty began, opening his arms as if to accommodate the entire nonexistent group before him. “I am here today to inform you that we are not going to be in this war anymore. So many of our people have died because of it. So many.”

 

Tristan smirked as he watched Ty, simultaneously thinking of all the places Chris could be hiding. To say that he came up short-handed would be reasonably accurate.

 

“And yeah, conquering France would be great. Who doesn't wanna do that?” Ty continued. “But it's just not worth it anymore.” Ty clasped his hands and took a long, dramatic pause. He was preparing for something. “So, I now officially announce our withdraw-”

 

As quick as lightning, a big grey blob whizzed across the room and hit Ty in the chest. He caught the object and made his melodramatic fall to the ground.

 

“Oh no... I've been... shot,” he groaned, then just laid on the ground and twitched. Tristan knelt down at his side, where he noticed that the grey blob was actually a stuffed elephant. “Treason! Treason!”

 

Tristan looked around again. Where the hell was Chris?

 

“My dear bodyguard... please... revive me,” Ty croaked. Tristan looked down. The first thing he could think to do was take the elephant away. He set it down next to him and struggled to come up with the next step.

 

The elephant had flown from the corner of the room. Tristan looked over. Chris's computer was in the corner. Unless Chris had somehow transfigured into a computer or computer desk, Tristan was at a loss for explanation. Then he heard a sound.

 

Pssst.

 

It was coming from the corner. Tristan was rather freaked out.

 

Pssssst.

 

Then Chris moved, and Tristan realized that Chris had stashed himself under the desk. Pretty clever. As soon as Chris had Tristan's attention, he began to make a motion with his hands. Tristan had no clue what he meant.

 

For several long moments Tristan blankly stared, alternating between Chris's signing and Ty's motionless body. Then suddenly he pieced it together, and he proceeded to tickle Ty. It worked, and after only a few seconds of shrieking, Ty was up on his feet again, beaming.

 

“Thank you so much, dear bodyguard!” he exclaimed, hopping forward and tightly hugging Tristan.

 

“You're welcome, King Tyrone,” he said with a laugh. Ty pulled away and faced the corner.

 

“Daddy, you don't have to be under there anymore,” he said. Chris quickly crawled out and stood up, stretching his limbs. Ty glanced around the room. “Now, if only there was someone to be a cop...”

 

“Couldn't your bodyguard do it?” Chris asked with a wink directed at Tristan. Tristan smiled moderately. Ty thought briefly.

 

“Bodyguard, arrest that man!” Ty commanded, pointing an accusing finger at Chris. Tristan walked across the room and stood as close to Chris as possible.

 

“You're under arrest, Chris,” Tristan playfully said. The whole situation was becoming more familiar and comfortable to him now.

 

“Oh, my,” Chris replied, raising one eyebrow. “You're going to have to frisk me, aren't you? In case I've got anything on me.”

 

Tristan bit his lip, though his expression was more hesitant than seductive. “Not sure that's so appropriate with your kid standing right over there.”

 

“Yeah, well, at least I didn't say anything about having to go downtown.” Chris folded his arms against his chest and gave a superior look as Tristan gaped and exultantly shoved him.

 

“Perv.” Timidly, Tristan looked back to where Ty was still standing. He was once again examining his crown, seemingly unaware of anything else that was going on. “Although, I do have handcuffs in my car,” he mumbled. Chris's eyes lit up with surprise, and he dropped his arms to his sides.

 

“Tristan... I had no idea you were like that...” Chris put his hands to his hips, tilted his head, and examined the man in front of him. “It's always the ones who work with children, huh?” His head returned to its normal angle as he realized the problem with his statement. “I think that came out differently than I meant it to.”

 

“Uh, yeah,” Tristan slowly replied. “I think I'm going to drag you back to the king now, he'll probably want to throw you in the dungeon or something.”

 

Chris made an uneasy face. “That's gonna be difficult, considering we don't have a dungeon.” Tristan shook his head, smiled, and grabbed Chris's hand to lead him to where Ty stood.

 

“Here you are, sir,” Tristan said to Ty, who looked up from eying his crown. He placed the paper diadem atop his head and strode in front of Chris. He gasped theatrically and held a hand to his heart.

 

“But it can't be... It simply can't be!” Ty took a few steps back to get a better look at Chris. “You... you look so much like me...”

 

“But more handsome, I know,” Chris said in a low voice. “That's because there are things, Tyrone, things you don't know. Things that no one has ever told you before, but I'll tell you now...” As Chris stared down at Ty, Tristan observed, astounded by Chris's performance and how seriously he seemed to take it. “I'm your father.”

 

“WHAT?” Ty bellowed into air. His eyes bulged, and tears even began to form. It was even more impressive than Chris's acting. His lips quivered as he went on, “But... but why would you try to kill me?”

 

Chris broke free of Tristan's hold – which was relatively easy because Tristan had forgotten he was even a part of the scene – and bent down so he and Ty were face-to-face. “No, no. I didn't try to kill you. If I wanted you dead, you would be dead. I did this as a warning – can't you see?” Chris placed a hand on Ty's shoulder. “This is far too dangerous for you, son. You can't put your life at risk like this anymore. I won't let you.”

 

“But, daddy,” Ty quietly began, his voice teeming with emotion, “I have to do this. For my people. If I don't, who will take care of them? How can I know that they will be treated right? I have to put my life at risk, so that everyone can be safe.”

 

“Who will make sure that you're safe?” Ty didn't answer. He turned his head and looked towards the kitchen.

 

“I can take care of myself. But my country has to come first.”

 

Tristan watched the pair, unsure of whether to cry or to run out of the apartment, screaming. He ultimately chose to stay – though his eyes were dry – because he knew that with these two, he would be in for quite an adventure. And he liked that.

 

 

[coldplayer#16]

So, a quick break from Coldplay in Wonderland, here's something I re-discovered from earlier in the summer. Enjoy.

 

The Scarf

 

 

 

Another hot summer day and the boys had managed to find a break from touring. Sadly, though, it was way too sticky and hot to set foot outside. That didn't stop Chris, however, and he did drag Jonny out with him. Guy and Will decided to not do much of anything though, they did go out to grab a bite, Guy had his camera and did take a few photos, but that was about it. 

 

Will was in the hotel room, enjoying a magazine, and Guy was now surfing the interwebz and seeing what was new on eBay in the other room. 

 

"Where did Chris say he was going again?" Will asked, turning his attention to the bassist.

 

"I forget," Guy said, not moving his eyes off the screen, "I just know he dragged Jon out with him."

 

"Into this blistering heat?"

 

"Wearing jeans and that scarf, no less."

 

"Jesus," Will said, looking back at the article he was previously wrapped up in.

 

As if on cue, Chris came barging in through the door, strutting in with a couple of shopping bags. Jonny had a couple as well, but unlike Chris, he just slowly walked in and collapsed onto the couch.

 

Will bent the top of the magazine down and looked up at Chris, "What the hell are you wearing?"

 

"None of your business," Chris said, serious sass in his tone.

 

"Excuse me?!"

 

Guy sighed and turned to face his bandmates, "Alright, before there's a ridiculous cat fight-"

 

"Says the man who argues with this diva over something as minor as what shade of blue the sky is!" Will snapped.

 

"Oh, shut the fuck up," Jonny groaned, turning over to lay on his back, "the heat is making you lot sound like a bunch of teenage girls on their periods."

 

The other three were surprised by what the guitarist had just said, Jon usually never said anything like that, but he was right, it was the heat. 

 

"Well, where'd you go Chris?" Guy asked after a long, awkward silence.

 

"Just around the shops," the singer said, "I think Jon has a headache."

 

"Is it obvious?" Jonny asked, fanning himself with his hat, which had a decent amount of sweat on it.

 

"Yeah mate, you gonna be okay, how much have you had to drink?"

 

"Not much."

 

"Go get a glass of water," Will said, "that'll help."

 

"Chris, be a dear," the guitarist joked, waving his hand in the air.

 

Chris's jaw dropped and then he smiled, "It'll cost you."

 

"Wrong! You owe me, Martin. Water, please."

 

Chris frowned and stamped his foot, he forgot that he owed Jonny, so he went over to the small ice bin and grabbed one of the small water bottles the hotel had given them.

 

"Why are you wearing that damned scarf, Chris?" Will asked, closing his magazine.

 

"Because I can?"

 

"Come here," the drummer said, "I wanna tell you something."

 

Chris rolled his eyes and walked over to the chair where Will was. Will signaled for him to come closer, and Chris leaned over, inches away from the angry one's face. Will reached up and grabbed the back of the scarf and tugged, pulling the scarf out of it's loop and slipping off Chris's neck.

 

The singer yelped at this and covered his neck, causing his shirt to lift up. The noise caused Jonny's headache to worsen and he moaned, but his brain was suddenly yelling at him to realize something bad was about to happen.

 

"Chris, what is that on your hip?" Guy asked, pointing to the tattoo that stuck out slightly from behind the waistband of the jeans.

 

"NOTHING!" Chris snapped, his voice cracking and pulling his shirt down, revealing the red marks on his neck and on what little of collar bone showed.

 

"Are those hickies?!" Will snapped, standing up and wide eyed.

 

"NO!" Chris said, covering his neck with his hands again, his voice abnormally high.

 

"Liar," Guy laughed, "C'mon, we won't tell, what's her name?"

 

"Uh, I um . . ."

 

Will took the singer's jeans and tugged down, pulling down and revealing the new tattoo. It was still slightly red, meaning it was still pretty new, and, in all capitols, were three letters:

 

JMB

 

"Wait a minute . . ." Will said, noticing Chris's massive blush, his entire face was red.

 

"I- we uh . . . we kinda sorta . . ."

 

"How are you not hung over?" Will asked.

 

"Wh-what?"

 

"Jon, you're not dehydrated, you're hung over, aren't you?"

 

"Incredibly," Jonny answered.

 

"So, back to my first question, how are you not hung over?"

 

"I only had a few beers," Chris said, "Jon had more and stuff happened and . . . you know, I'm amazed I'm not a wreck like him."

 

"Oi!" Jonny snapped, and then the sharp pain stabbed his brain again and he moaned, laying back down.

 

Will sighed and couldn't believe what was going on, "Right, well, I just have one last question, Jon, do you-"

 

"Yep." The guitarist pulled up the hem of his shirt and pulled down a side of his shorts, revealing a similar tattoo to Chris's, only his was four letters long:

 

CAJM

 

"I can't believe you two," the drummer said, frustrated and wanting to kill the both of them."

 

There was another long, awkward silence, and then Guy chimed in, "Well, for the record, I called it."

 

[coldplayer#16]

Another quick thing I've thought up, matching drawings to come later ;)

 

Chibiplay! - #1

 

 

NOTE: Before this story begins, I have to tell you a brief story right now. Okay, it’s stories, really, but that’ll make itself clear in a second:

 

1.) If I’m titling something “Chibiplay!”, such as this, there will be an issue/part/chapter/adventure number next to it, like a comic book would. These are comic ideas that I’ve taken the time to write out, but not necessarily figure out all the artwork for.

 

The next story will come after the main one, it has spoilers in it, so enjoy:

 

 

The Wrong Uniform:

 

A quick shower as a break from tour, something to clear your mind and also yourself. The idea struck everyone’s favorite bassist and, considering their plane was going to be incredibly late and there was a private bathroom backstage that no one had used (at least to his knowledge), he decided to take a quick wash off before they left. He felt gross, tonight was a particularly hot night and the bright lights made him sweat more than usual.

 

He’d told Will to keep guard, but the drummer had a magazine waiting for him, one with a very interesting article he had to leave mid-read because of curtain call. He left to go and retrive his read and Guy locked the door and started running the water. He’d left his clothes with Will, all minus his pants (boxers, for you Americans reading), which were left unattended outside the bathroom door.

 

However, someone had taken advantage of this and picked up the uniform and replaced it with another, not one of his bandmate’s uniforms, just another one. They had also seen the dressing room door had been left open, and happily swiped the rest of the bassist’s outfits, including his street clothes.

 

The thief didn’t steal the clothing, they had celverly hidden them in the other room, leaving poor Guy with nothing but his pants and whatever replacement the theif had left him.

 

Soon enough, the bassist came out of the shower, dried off, put on his pants, and stuck his hand out the door, “Will?”

 

No answer.

 

“Will, you there man?”

 

Still no answer, which is when the bassist stuck his head out to see if there was any one present. There wasn’t, but he looked down and saw that there were still clothes there, waiting for him.

 

They were not his, though, he knew this, and when he brought them into the bathroom and unfolded him, he was horrified to find out what the really were.

 

He ran to the dressing room, hoping no one would see him, and slammed the door behind him. He locked it and looked to his section of the traveling closet. He saw all his clothes were missing, including his normal ones which were placed on top of the closet. He panicked and held up the new clothing with a horrified look on his face.

 

The new outfit was a white sailor’s uniform, a navy blue tie and matching stirpes around the collar and sleeves. There was also a matching hat, but he just couldn’t believe what was happening to him.

 

Having really no other choice, other than walking around in his boxers and socks, the bassist slid the clothes on and took a good look at himself in the mirror. He looked ridiculous, and he had a few ideas to why this had happened. The first idea he had was that it was a prank, and who would do this, he wasn’t sure, but there was one name that stuck out like a sore thumb:

 

Chris.

 

He stormed his way out of the dressing room and into the one where he knew he’d find the singer, which, oddly enough, was the next one over. He and Jonny were in the middle of a mini-jam session and singing some song that they were making up as they went along.

 

Guy flung the door open and was red in the face with embarrassment and anger, “YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY?!”

 

The singer and guitarist stopped dead and stared at the bassist, started to snicker, and then bursted out in laughter.

 

“Wh-wh-where the hell did you get that?!” Jonny said through bursts of laughter, “You look like a little school boy!” He started laughing so hard he started crying, as was Chris, but Guy stood there, scarlet now, and beyond furious.

 

“WHY DON’T YOU ASK YOUR BOYFRIEND!” Guy spat, pointing to Chris. Jonny stopped laughing and was struck by the insult, and Chris stopped and stared at the bassist in disbelief.

 

“Excuse me, but I had nothing to do with that outfit of yours,” Chris said, eyeing him up and down, “But I have to say, you look great in those shorts!”

 

“Wh-what do you mean you had nothing to with this,” Guy asked, “After our spat yesterday, I thought this was you getting even with me!”

 

“I wouldn’t stoop to replacing your clothes, speaking of, why didn’t you just change into another outfit.”

 

“Someone took all of them!”

 

Chris stared blankly at Guy, then turned to Jonny, both of them smiling, and then they started to burst out laughing again.

 

“I’m serious!”

 

“I-I can’t believe this!” Jonny laughed, “S-someone stole all your clothes, and gave you that ridiculous looking uniform?!”

 

“YES!” Chris and Jonny just started howling with laughter again, “I’m not kidding, someone stole my clothes!”

 

Chris fell out of his chair and had his arms around his stomach, “N-no, please, STOP! It hurts too much!!” His voice was high and he started to break out with laughs again, his stomach hurting, and Jonny was laughing so hard he’d gone silent.

 

Guy just stood there, his face still red, and now there were tears starting to form in his eyes, “Guys, c’mon, cut it out!” The singer and guitarist were still mid-fit with laughter, Guy knew they wouldn’t stop anytime soon, so he ran out of the room and found a room where he could be alone.

 

The bassist ran off to the very end of the hall, an empty room, save for a couch, a couple of chairs, and a mirror, and shut the door behind him. He sprawled out on the couch and hid his face in his arms, crying.

 

Meanwhile, the noise of Chris and Jonny’s howling had disturbed the drummer’s reading and he could only ignore it for so long. Once he heard the pounding footsetps of Guy running away did he enter the room where the singer and guitarist were, a grave look on his face.

 

Chris and Jonny were just calming down from their fit and then stopped thier giggling when they saw the drummer, “Oh, h-hey, Will, wh-what’s up?”

 

“What did you two do?” the drummer asked flatly, giving the two the stare of disapproval.

 

“W-we did nothing,” Jonny said, wiping the tears away from his face, “It was Guy, he- he came in wearing-“ the two started to laugh again.

 

Will was not amused by this and grabbed Chris by the collar, pulling him up from the floor to face him, “What was he wearing!”

 

Chris stopped laughing and started fearing a punch to the face, “A sailor suit, he said someone stole his clothes, all of them!”

 

“You’re lying,” the drummer said, pulling the singer in.

 

“I’m not! Please, put me down!!”

 

“Jon,” Will said, not moving his eyes off the frightened singer.

 

“He’s not, let him go!” Jonny said, pulling on Will’s arm.

 

Will let Chris go and Jonny went to go check on him, “Where’d he go?”

 

“Beats me,” Chris said, “we were a little busy when he ran off.”

 

“Yeah, howling like hyenas and disturbing my reading!”

 

“Lay off, Will!” Jonny yelled, “We don’t know where he is, so go back to your reading!”

 

“I’m finding Guy,” Will said, “and you two are going to help me.”

 

“Why us?!” the two asked.

 

“You made him run off, and he is our bandmate, and a friend, it only makes sense for you two to help figure out where he’s run off to.”

 

“It’s also not our fault he’s dressed like a five year old,” Chris muttered, but he felt Will’s death-stare fall on him agian, and he sighed, “Fine, we’ll help.”

 

And so the three began their look for the bassist, will they find him in time for the flight, will they find all of Guy’s clothes, and, more importantly, will they find the theif that took them?

 

Find out in the next part!

 

 

2.) The boys in Drama Club were just absolutely thrilled that they get to wear sailor suits in the show, and by that I mean they hate it. The director put her younger son in one just to show them and the poor boy looked so cute and so embarrassed. Luckily for him, he’s young enough where the crew, made up of all girls, told him he looked adorable and also was a boss, but the younger girls in the cast teased him; and this is partically where this story comes from. I think I may have already written something like this, or at least thought of it but yeah, this the end.

 

 

 

[Kristal Siderglace]

Ok...this is full of grammatical issues...forgive me!:cry:

 

(x^2+y^2-1)^3-x^2y^3=0

 

Chapter 2

 

 

 

It was 6.30am when Chris opened again his eyes, just one pill couldn’t assure him more than those 3 hours of sleep to which he was became used. Every time he moved his head ached as he had a marble inside his skull that rolled in synchronous with his movements. Still unconscious, with black yoga pants and a t-shirt, moved more by an extrinsic force than by his feet, he opened the door of his suite directed to the left, straight to Jonny’s room. As he went along his brain started to work, just in time to make him realize, with an hand already up to knock, that his wishes to Jonny should have wait some hours. He couldn’t knock by now, not because it was the dawn, certainly J wouldn’t have mind since he was used to Chris’ night visits, he would have made room, as usual, in his bed, the necessary to let Chris lay and he would have continued to sleep as if nothing woke up him but, obviously, Jonny’s family had reached him to celebrate together his birthday and as far as Chloe was aware of the dynamics, sometimes almost uncanny for two 35 old men, of their friendship, it wasn’t appropriate to descend there to disturb one of the few occasions that the couple had, during the tour, to spend a night in the same bed.

 

At the time that Chris was about to go back to his room the door opened in front of him and Chloe came out, in a white nightdress, holding Violet who was rubbing his eyes, as if she just stopped to cry.

 

«Oh…hi Chris» said Chloe closing the door behind her «There is something wrong?»

«Hey…no, sorry, I just wanted to wish Jonny happy birthday but then I realized what time it was and I was going back to my room»

«I see, go in if you want, I’m sure that Jonny would neither grumble about being awaken at the dawn on his birthday because it’s you» said the girl laughing and keeping to lull the daughter that wasn’t crying anymore but that didn’t seem intentioned to back to sleep.

«I wouldn’t be so sure, it’s better don’t risk» replied Chris intent on smiling to Violet «And you? What do you do already awake? Someone here doesn’t want to do bye-byes?» he said looking to Chloe first ant then going back to smile to the baby that was stretching her arms to him to be picked up.

«Exact and we don’t want to wake up daddy with the tantrums Vi, don’t we?» said Chloe humoring his daughter’s desire and handing her to the boy.

 

While he was lovingly traveling over her with his blue eyes, Chris couldn’t help but think about how much she looked like his best friend, there was something in her, especially now that she was smiling, that remembered him of Jonny, maybe that smile and those bright eyes that gave happiness and peace to everyone who caught them were peculiar to Buckland family’s genes.

 

After few seconds of silence, in which Chris was lost in the cat of lulling Violet, Chloe asked him with a careful voice «Are you having troubles in sleeping again? You don’t look very well Christopher…»

«When do I have stopped? They are no longer a problem, it’s just routine…but you are right, today I don’t feel particularly in shape, maybe it’s just stress and tiredness or perhaps I caught a virus, actually it’s better if Violet stays away from me, I would not infect her with something. Maybe it’s better for me if I go back to my room to try to rest a little more…good luck with the little sleepless, I don’t think she wants to back sleep»

 

Saying this, after he gave back the baby to his mother, Chris headed back towards the door of his room, a few steps away from Buckland family’s one, and he disappeared in it.

 

After twenty minutes of rocking and lullabies in the hallway of the hotel Violet had finally closed his eyes and Chloe, after putting her back to the bed, had taken his place beside her husband under the covers.

 

Used to his best friend visits, Jonny turned to Chloe without showing any sign of annoyance for being awaken and hugging his wife, without even open his eyes, whispering to not awake his children, said «It’s all ok?»

«Yes, Violet was throwing and I didn’t want to bother you» she said while her husband hugged her a little more smiling for the sweetness of those words «I met Christopher out here…he looked so tired and tried to me, I didn’t know he had still troubles with sleep…»

«When do he has stopped?»

 

That reply exactly like the one she received from the blond boy made her smile, wondering, once more, that if it wouldn’t be for the fact that Jonny was there in the bed hugging her and for those beautiful human being that were their children, she would have believed that there was something more than just affection between the two men and that maybe, in a parallel universe, made by different choices, there wouldn’t have been her held in that hug.

 

 

 

EDIT: Italian version http://www.efpfanfic.net/viewstory.php?sid=1279535&i=1

[coldplayisawesome]

 

Chapter Six

 

 

 

As the world whizzed by, Ty stared out the back window of the car. It was a route that he was only vaguely familiar with, since he rarely traveled to his mother's. But as they passed by the elementary school, Ty was assured that it would not be long before he was home again.

 

“It is so weird to not go to the school when we go by it,” Ty voiced. Kirsten quickly glanced back and smiled.

 

“You don't usually go anywhere else, huh?” she replied. “Just school and home.”

 

“Uh huh.” Ty glared at the stationary building beside them as the car stopped for a red light. He wondered if there were people who went to the school even when he didn't. Apparently – or so he had heard – the older kids went to school all day instead of a few mere hours. But he didn't think that they were there on the weekends, and in that case, maybe there weren't any people in the school at all. If no kids were there, what would the adults do? It seemed like there was no need for their presence either. He thought about asking Chris later, or maybe Tristan the next time they saw each other.

 

“And sometimes my apartment,” Kirsten continued. “But, you know, you could always ask your father to take you out somewhere. It's not like he does much at all, I'm sure he could take time out of his busy schedule to do it.”

 

“I like being at home. Me and daddy watch lots of movies.” He was trying to drop a hint, though he was not entirely conscious of doing so. Kirsten rarely gave much attention to him when he visited and most often she never even gave him anything to do by himself. He would just sit, stare, and think, which was luckily an interest of his.

 

“I'm sure you do,” Kirsten said in a less than pleased tone. She rolled her eyes as the car began to roll forward. The building Ty was watching disappeared quickly.

 

Another of Ty's interests was to observe. He quite often noticed while listening to his parents that they didn't particularly care for each other. What he found interesting was that they both said the same basic things in almost the exact same tone. Chris thought Kirsten was irresponsible and payed more attention to her social life than to their son; Kirsten thought Chris was lazy and wouldn't do anything for Ty if it involved any work on his part. Ty didn't think that either was exactly true, though he was more inclined to lean in favor of Chris. Sometimes he even felt personally attacked when Kirsten demeaned Chris.

 

Ty chose not to speak another word until Kirsten pulled up to the apartment building for the simple reason that he just didn't feel like speaking. Kirsten unbuckled him and helped him out of the car. She seemed to think that he wasn't as capable of walking inside the apartment building by himself as he was walking into the school, apparent by the fact that she went out of her way to carry him to the apartment itself. Once there, though, she set him down and only stayed to open the door for him. He barely got the chance to say goodbye.

 

The room was unsurprisingly quiet, save for the occasional sound of a keystroke from Chris. He was working, definitely, but he didn't appear to be too occupied. Ty slowly walked across the room.

 

“Hi, daddy!” he chirped in his usual manner. The result left a lot to be desired; Chris had apparently not heard Ty's greeting. Even after a minute he still had not acknowledged Ty. It was as if he was invisible. “...Daddy?”

 

This time he was a pinch more successful. Chris almost immediately responded, “Hold on.” Then he went back to typing, without ever having looked away from the computer.

 

Ty was patient. He knew how important it was to let Chris do his work. Yet, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that something was off. But he didn't know what.

 

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he was suddenly very aware of the growling noise his stomach produced. He figured it would be all right to ask for some food.

 

“Daddy, could you-”

 

Chris spun, the first time he had torn his eyes from the screen, and he glared at Ty with clear anger, then barked, “Ty, I'm busy right now!” He turned back just as quickly, leaving Ty to stare at him, frightened. Chris never yelled, at least not in a serious way. Ty was unsure of what to do.

 

“B-But I just wanted-” he stuttered, something he should not have done judging by the way Chris tensed up.

 

“You know what? That's enough. Go to your room.”

 

Ty's eyes widened and he became even more confused by the whole situation. None of this felt right at all to him. It was like Chris had been replaced by someone else entirely.

 

“What?” he asked in a small voice. His question angered Chris further.

 

“Go to your room!” Chris hollered right in Ty's face. Ty had nothing more to say, so he gawked at Chris for a while. Chris was fuming. “Go. Now.”

 

Chris became blurry in Ty's vision as Ty slowly backed away. By the time he faced the hallway and began to walk towards his room, everything was distorted. He kept thinking about what had just happened, the immense animosity strewn across Chris's face, and he kept replaying Chris's harsh words in his head.

 

Maybe Chris was stressed out. He had a lot to deal with, having to come up with enough money every month to make sure they had a place to live with working utilities, and enough every week to make sure they had food to eat. He could understand Chris being frustrated because of something like that. But it still hurt.

 

His bed welcomed him with open arms, much more warmly than Chris had. He lay his head down on his pillow and stared at the wall as the tears fell down his cheeks.

 

Then suddenly everything was dark, and Ty was under his blanket, though he was still crying. He lunged across the bed and snatched his stuffed elephant, then he slid to the floor and ran out of the room. He continued to run across the narrow span of the hall until he was in Chris's room.

 

“Daddy!!” Ty urgently cried as he stopped at Chris's bedside. Though Chris appeared to be sleeping, he immediately opened his eyes.

 

“Ty, what's wrong?” Chris asked, obviously concerned.

 

“I had a bad dream,” Ty explained, his words interrupted by the occasional hiccup.

 

Chris propped himself up on his elbow, squinting through the darkness. “Do you wanna sleep in here?” Ty nodded, though he soon realized that Chris might not be able to see it.

 

“Yes, please.” Chris scooted over so there was enough room for Ty and patted the empty space. Ty climbed up and snuck underneath the covers, lying so that he was facing Chris. He squeezed his stuffed elephant against his chest.

 

“Do you want to tell me what the dream was about?” Chris softly asked.

 

“No.” Ty sniffed a few times.

 

“All right, then, go to sleep. You have school in the morning.” Chris closed his eyes and made himself comfortable.

 

“OK,” Ty answered. There were a few moments of silence following, but Ty felt like he still had something to say. “Daddy?”

 

“What is it, Ty?”

 

Ty took a deep breath, only partially relieved that there appeared to be no aggression in Chris's tone. “I love you,” he quietly said. Even in the dark he could tell that Chris smiled.

 

“I love you, too, kid. Now go to sleep, please.” Ty smiled as well, his sobbing subsided, and he happily closed his eyes. He asleep once more within a matter in a minutes, and as quickly as his surroundings had changed before, so when he opened his eyes in the morning it seemed as though the sun had just come out of nowhere.

 

Chris had already woken, had already left the room entirely. It took Ty a few moments to realize where he was, as he had temporarily forgotten about his dream and his midnight journey into Chris's room. He slowly sat up in the bed, stretching his tiny arms and yawning. His stuffed elephant was still laying beside him.

 

Ty dropped down from the bed and headed towards his own room, dragging his prized possession behind him. He returned the animal to its resting place next to his pillow, then turned around to find Chris standing in his doorway.

 

“I see you're already awake,” Chris said, leaning against the frame of the doorway and holding a dark mug in his left hand. Ty simply smiled at him. “Well, that's good. I cooked some breakfast, so it's waiting for you in the kitchen.”

 

“Do I have to get dressed first?” Ty inquired.

 

Chris smirked as if suggesting that Ty was merely trying to be difficult. “Do you ever have to get dressed first? It's probably best if you don't, that way you won't have to change again if you make a mess.”

 

Ty's mouth dropped open, and had he not had such good control over his salivation, he may have drooled a little. “Does that mean you made pancakes?” he asked in a dreamy voice. Chris said nothing in return, merely giving Ty a teasing look and then walking away.

 

Ty quickly ran down the hallway behind Chris; the prospect of having pancakes was about the most exciting thing for him at that moment. Ty loved food of all sorts, actually, but pancakes were definitely high on his list, at least for breakfast foods.

 

He practically shoved Chris out of the way as rushed to grab a seat at the table. Of course, he had to sit there and wait for Chris to bring him a plate anyway, so it wasn't as if his speed had given him any real advantage. He was just really excited.

 

Chris was luckily amused by Ty's antics. He prepared two plates for the both of them, carefully setting them on the table in order to not spill any of their contents. It was bad enough having to clean up simple foods from the kitchen floor – the syrup would be absolute murder. He was really hoping that Ty would be as tidy as possible.

 

Ty, however, had no intention of being careful with his food. It wasn't that he didn't care about the work that Chris would have to do to clean up after him, it was just that he was too focused on eating to think about anything else. In the end it was all right, because Ty had eaten so quickly and with so much vigor that there was never even time for a mess to be made. He lifted one forkful to his mouth, and suddenly the whole plate was empty.

 

When Ty had come back into the kitchen after getting dressed for the day, Chris had just swallowed the last bit of his own breakfast. As he stood up to clear the table, he thought to himself that it was a good thing he was about to send Ty off to school while he was in such a hyperactive state. Although, he did love it when Ty acted crazy. It was very entertaining to him.

 

Ty had brought with him his backpack, currently resting snug against his back, and was pacing the empty space in the living room in front of the television. He mostly hummed to himself, though every now and then Chris could hear him sing, “Going to school, going to school!”

 

Chris laughed quietly as he made his way to his room to get himself ready. It seemed like Ty was already set and didn't need any further assistance. From the safety of his room, Chris could still vaguely hear Ty singing in the distance. Again, he was marginally relieved that Ty would be gone for half of the day. Chris probably still had some last-minute work to do that he had forgotten about and would be busy with, anyway.

 

During the car ride home, though, Chris began to miss Ty's booming presence. Even after a few weeks, he was still not entirely used to the silence that Ty's absence brought with it. And he knew it would only get worse, as in time Ty would be going to school all day, and eventually he would have to grow up and live his own life without Chris. Chris was, of course, getting tremendously far ahead of himself, but he couldn't help it. Ty was everything to him now.

 

A brief glimpse at the calendar by his computer monitor informed him that he did not in fact have any last-minute work to do. He had work to do, but it wasn't last-minute and he therefore figured it would be all right to procrastinate. He would regret it later, as he always did, but that knowledge wasn't going to stop him.

 

Instead, he chose to wash the dishes from that morning's breakfast. This way, he wouldn't have to deal later on with the stickiness of the plates due to the residue left from the syrup. It was best to just get it done and over with. Sometimes Chris wondered why he never applied that thought to his actual job.

 

Chris stacked the few dishes first, then when he returned from the bathroom (the rushing of water from the faucet always made him need to desperately urinate, even if the sensation had not been there beforehand) he proceeded to actually wash them. Of course, when his hands were submerged in water became the perfect time for someone to interrupt his chore. He tried his best to quickly dry his hands and rid them of their soapiness before the phone stopped ringing. He managed to answer just as the call was about to go to voicemail.

 

“Hello?” he said, more rushed than he would have liked. He as afraid that it may have sounded a tad rude.

 

“Hello, this is Leeroch. I am speaking to Chris, yes?” the voice on the other end asked in a slightly paranoid fashion. Chris affirmed. “Good. Well, Chris, I have some fantastic news for you. Your book is a top seller.”

 

Chris's eyes flew open, and he would have dropped the phone had it not been for the muscles in his hands contracting instead of relaxing. While he stopped breathing momentarily, his heart raced faster than he ever would have thought possible.

 

“W-wow,” Chris shakily breathed when he finally regained the ability to speak. “That's... that's definitely fantastic news...”

 

“There's more.” Chris blindly reached behind him for one of the wooden chairs, fearing that the next bit of information might cause his legs to give out. He sat down and braced himself. “The publishers want you to do a tour. Now, it'll be a short one, nothing too fancy, but you'll be gone for about a month.”

 

Chris cleared his throat. A month-long tour didn't sound too short to him. “All right.”

 

“Everything will be arranged for you, all you need to do is show up.” Chris made a grunting sort of noise to signify that he heard and understood what Leeroch was saying to him. He was still very much in shock and very unable to think properly, let alone form entire coherent sentences. “This isn't an ordinary thing, Chris,” Leeroch told him in a manner that seemed to suggest that Chris wasn't taking this seriously enough. “It usually takes a number of best-sellers before companies will even consider asking you to tour. Honestly, I'm surprised they want you to do it.”

 

“Oh, believe me, I'm very, very grateful.” Chris looked around the room, trying to understand. Was any of this actually real? How could it be real?

 

“You better be.”

 

“So, um... when is this tour, exactly?” Chris shifted in his chair, crossing his left leg over his right. He swung his foot a little as Leeroch went on, taking another five minutes to finish explaining the entirety of the situation to Chris. Following that there was little to speak further of, and so the phone call ended.

 

Chris sighed as he hung up the phone. His eyes caught sight of the sink, a pile of dishes still soaking in the soapy water. He returned to his unfinished chore, though he felt dazed. It couldn't possibly be real. Even the news that his book was being published seemed too good to be true.

 

As the hours passed, though, and Chris found himself still in the same reality, he decided that it was in fact true. He had finally accomplished what he had wanted for nearly ten years, and he was incredibly lucky to have done so. Anyone else may have argued that it was his talent which aided him, not luck, but Chris was not in any rush to praise himself.

 

Of course, he also realized that this was only the beginning. Just because he was being published did not mean that he would be successful. Yet, he couldn't help being incredibly happy. It wouldn't be horrible of him to celebrate just a little.

 

So Chris decided not to do any work at all that day (though he probably would have skipped the work anyway, regardless of the call from Leeroch), but he did sit down at his computer, compelled to write more of his next story. Maybe it would be good enough to also be published one day, if he put in enough effort.

 

He made sure to keep an eye on the time, typing away until the very last possible second. The elementary school was a five-minute drive from their apartment, so when it was six minutes before the class would let out, Chris jumped up and headed out the door.

 

With one minute to go, Chris ran into the school, coming to a dead stop at Tristan's desk. “Hey, Tristan,” he quickly said, beaming. He limply held a hand to his chest as he breathed heavily. Tristan calmly lifted his eyes.

 

“Hey,” he replied. “You're awfully... buoyant today.”

 

“My book is a top seller.” After receiving a slightly confused look from Tristan, Chris shook his head and went on to explain, “Oh, I'm a writer. Did you not know that?”

 

Tristan smirked, and he too shook his head. “I didn't. But congratulations! That's, like, incredibly awesome.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“So, I guess you're going to become famous now, huh? And you'll be off to bigger and better things. Bigger and better boyfriends,” Tristan playfully said with a wink. Chris's eyes widened and his cheeks turned a bit red.

 

“I highly doubt that will happen, but shouldn't you,” Chris looked around in a frenzied way, “you know, watch it around all these kids?” Tristan seemed to find his inappropriate behavior funny, and in response to Tristan's laughter Chris narrowed his eyes. “That reminds me, I need to go get my son. I'll be back.”

 

“Oh, God, please don't,” Tristan sarcastically remarked as Chris walked down the hallway, smiling to himself.

 

On his way to the classroom he passed Mrs. Carter and Daren, who each shot him a nasty glare in passing. In return, he simply smiled and waved. He hoped that would throw them off. As he walked on he felt as though he was successful.

 

Ty was already waiting by the door when Chris arrived. From what Chris could see, Ty had been watching the door in anticipation. Without a word, he grabbed Chris's hand and pulled him back into the hallway. Chris stared down at him as they walked.

 

“Is everything all right?” Chris asked. “You're being awfully calm.”

 

Ty looked up at Chris with an unidentifiable expression in his large eyes. He was quiet for several moments. “Daren tried to get me in trouble today. Lotsa times.”

 

Chris sighed. “What did he do?”

 

“He kept telling Ms. L that I was saying rude things to him. But I wasn't!” Ty said with increasing exuberance. “I didn't even say anything to him at all. Then I just stopped talking so he couldn't say that I said anything. I think it worked.”

 

“Did you tell Ms. L that Daren was lying?”

 

Ty nodded. “I don't think she believed me. But she didn't yell at me. She just said, 'Tyrone, please be nice to Daren, and Daren, please be nice to Tyrone.'”

 

“Next time he does something like that, tell me, OK? Then I'll... I don't know. I guess I'll have to schedule a conference with your teacher or something. This is getting ridiculous.”

 

“You're telling me,” Ty groaned. Chris grimaced at him.

 

“Sorry, kid,” he sort of muttered, to which Ty responded with a shrug.

 

“It's not your fault, daddy.”

 

“Well...” As he trailed off, Chris glanced at Tristan's desk. Tristan was still standing there, though now he was chatting with some woman, a co-worker of his. He appeared to be engrossed in the conversation enough for Chris to decide to not bother with stopping at the desk.

 

Tristan was more alert than Chris gave him credit for. Though he was in the middle of a sentence as Chris and Ty passed, he cut himself off and shouted, “Chris!” When Chris halted and looked up, Tristan waved his hand to beckon him.

 

Chris was going to ask what it was that Tristan wanted, but as soon as he was close enough, Tristan reached out and with a hand full of Chris's shirt pulled him forward to kiss him. Then, with smiling eyes, Tristan softly said, “I'll see you tomorrow.” Chris smiled in a dazed sort of way as Tristan turned back to the woman, who had been watching and looked certain to make a comment once Chris had left.

 

Ty was a holding back a giggle as Chris returned to the glass doors. Chris stared at him with embarrassment, made all the worse when Ty thought it prudent to say, “Daddy, your cheeks are all red,” and then finally release his laughter.

 

Five minutes later, the boys stepped inside of their apartment (though in actuality Ty ran in). Ty immediately headed for his room and Chris stood by the door, left to hang his car keys up on the hook bolted to the wall. The rest of the afternoon was spent as usual; Ty watched a few movies and snacked while Chris sat at his computer and composed fiction for several hours.

 

It wasn't until Ty was supposedly in bed that Chris did something different. While the thought was still fresh in his mind, he went into the kitchen and phoned Kirsten. Making plans now with Kirsten as far as watching Ty for the month Chris would be away was a smart thing to do.

 

Naturally, Kirsten opposed and whined at the thought of continuously mothering Ty for thirty days. Chris tried to contain his frustration long enough to actually make the plans, though he did slip once and let Kirsten know that if she hated the idea of taking care of her own son so much, then she should have “considered that six years ago and kept [her] big mouth – and legs – shut.”

 

When he returned the receiver to its resting place, he could feel the beginnings of a headache stirring in his temples. He closed his eyes and took a few deep, calming breaths. A faint sound coming from around the corner slowly became more distinct. It was then that Chris realized Ty was most definitely not asleep, or even in his room at all.

 

Chris rushed to the hallway that led to their bedrooms. Sure enough, he found Ty standing by the wall, his hands in fists near his chest and tears spilling from his eyes. At first Chris thought that maybe Ty had overheard the phone call and was upset because of Chris and Kirsten fighting, but it became apparent that such was not the case.

 

“What's wrong, Ty?” Chris asked, not even thinking to question why Ty was out of bed.

 

As Chris bent down and placed his hand on Ty's shoulder, Ty replied in a small voice, “Y-You're leaving?”

 

“Not for another week. But I'll be gone for a month, yeah.”

 

As several more drops fell down his cheeks, Ty tried to keep as calm as possible, which was proving to be difficult. His lips, though pressed tightly together, trembled violently. “I'm gonna miss you.”

 

“I'm gonna miss you, too, kid,” Chris told him, the anguish spreading to his own tone. He hugged Ty and for the first time it dawned on him just how lonely the next month was going to be. It was weird enough to go a single evening without Ty; thirty days was going to be torturous. “I'd bring you with me if I could, but you can't miss school.”

 

“I hate school,” Ty mumbled.

 

“Is that because of the kids in your class or because you can't come with me?”

 

Ty sniffed a few times before he answered. “Because I can't come with you.” Chris laughed, though Ty didn't seem to think it was funny at all. Another couple of tears slid down and landed on Chris's shirt. “Don't laugh at me, daddy,” he grumbled.

 

“I'm sorry, kid,” Chris apologized, though the laughter was still in his voice. “Listen, a month isn't so long. And it could be worse. I could be gone for a year or something.” Though he wasn't entirely convincing, part of his reassurance was for himself, not just Ty. Ty gave a sort of moan in response.

 

“That would be the worst year of my life.”

 

“Same here. It would be up there at least.” Chris pulled back so that he and Ty were face-to-face once again. Even in the darkness he could see the shine on Ty's cheeks. “But, hey, you get to spend a whole month with your mother now. Wouldn't you like that? You don't get to see her very often.”

 

“Yeah, I like spending time with mommy and all.” Ty twisted up his mouth as he always did, silently debating whether or not to continue verbalizing his thoughts. “But it's just not the same.”

 

“Yeah, I know.” Chris ruffled Ty's hair a bit. Ty dragged the back of his hand over his face, trying to wipe away some of the tears.

 

“I have to go back to bed, don't I?” Ty asked with some reluctance. Chris quietly nodded his head. “Will you read to me, daddy?”

 

“I can read to you, yeah. Go on. I'll be there in a minute.”

 

Ty sniffed a few times, then finally turned and shuffled back to his room. Chris stood up, stretched his legs a bit, then went into his bedroom to fetch the book he had been reading to Ty. He couldn't remember what chapter they had left off at, but he knew that Ty would remember in an instant. It was surprising, really, considering Ty always fell asleep before Chris finished reading to him.

 

Chris had been flipping through the pages when he walked through Ty's doorway. Ty was under the covers already, but he was sitting up and brightly smiling in Chris's direction. Apparently the prospect of being read to was enough to momentarily subside his sobbing.

 

“Well, you look like a happy camper,” Chris remarked as he looked up from the book in his hands. Ty responded with a look of confusion.

 

“Camper?” He glanced down at the blankets that covered his tiny body, and Chris chuckled. Ty was a smart kid, but sometimes he was far too literal. Chris decided it was best to just change the subject.

 

“What chapter were we on?”

 

“Oh, we are on chapter eight now, daddy,” Ty quickly replied. Chris thought of asking how exactly it was that Ty could respond with such speed and, probably, accuracy. Instead of asking, though, he just opened the book to the appropriate page and sat down beside Ty.

 

 

[coldplayisawesome]

 

Chapter Seven - Part One

 

 

 

The suitcase was open and pushed up against Ty's bed. It was a remarkably large suitcase for such a small boy. Even more remarkable was the amount of objects strewn across Ty's bed which were to be placed in the large suitcase. He was going to be away for a month, so the abundance of clothing was understandable, even though he did not actually need so many clothes, since it would be easy for Kirsten just to wash his clothes when the time was right. But Ty was very particular about how often he wore each outfit, and so for safe measure Chris decided to pack almost every article of clothing Ty owned.

 

“We probably should have done this earlier, huh?” Chris said as he tried to fold a stubborn pair of Ty's jeans. Eventually, he gave up and moved onto a shirt. “What time is it?”

 

Ty looked over at the small clock by his bed. He shrugged. “How am I supposed to know?”

 

“Just you watch, your mother is going to be here early and none of this will be packed and she'll bite my head off for it.” Chris wasn't having much luck with the shirt, either. It seemed like Ty's clothes were just too small to be folded.

 

Ty picked up the pants that Chris had discarded and doubled the fabric over with ease. Chris stared at him for a moment, and then narrowed his eyes. Ty went on to do the same with several other pieces of clothing that Chris had given up on earlier in the evening. By the time Chris managed to almost fold the one shirt, Ty had finished with nearly half of the clothes on his bed.

 

“I never knew you had such a talent for laundry, Ty,” Chris said. Ty looked up at him and grinned. “Maybe I should just let you do these, and I'll pack your other stuff.”

 

There seemed to be no objection to this plan from Ty, so Chris set the shirt aside and gathered a few items from the other side of the bed. Other than clothes, Ty had mostly chosen to bring movies and small books with him. There was also his school stuff, of course, and some more clothes.

 

Chris groaned an indeterminable amount of time later. He had just placed what felt like the eightieth shirt in the suitcase, and there didn't seem to be an end to the clothing any time in the near future.

 

“Tyrone,” he whined, “why didn't you make me pack all this stuff earlier? I still have to get my stuff together, too. And your mother is probably already walking up the stairs as we speak.”

 

Ty paused after placing a pair of sweatpants in the suitcase. He stood up straight and put his hands on his hips, giving his father a stern look. “Daddy, I am not the adult here.” For a moment, the room was completely silent. Chris frowned at Ty, and Ty kept his hands on his sides. Then, quite suddenly, Chris began to laugh, and Ty started giggling, and before either knew it, several minutes had passed and they had not made any further progress.

 

Chris sighed. “I feel like we just wasted more time.”

 

“I think we did,” Ty offered. Chris grabbed another shirt. He could not for the life of him remember ever purchasing so much clothing for Ty. Perhaps a decent portion had come from other people in the form of gifts. Perhaps Kirsten had bought it all for him, just to add one more bullet point to her ever-growing list of ways to torture Chris. It was certainly possible.

 

The reign of fabric did eventually come to an end. Chris rejoiced as he placed the last pair of jeans in the suitcase, and he gave Ty a celebratory high-five. Almost every other item on the bed had been packed away as well, except for a few DVDs and a small stack of books. Ty was picking them up as Chris walked around the side of the bed.

 

Ty's stuffed elephant was lying on one of his pillows. Chris grabbed it and went to place it in the suitcase, but he was stopped by a tiny hand upon his wrist.

 

“Wait, daddy,” Ty said, slowly pulling the elephant out of Chris's hand. He held it close to his chest and stared down at it. “I'm not bringing him with me.”

 

“You're not?” Chris asked with great disbelief. He wondered if maybe he had heard Ty incorrectly, but Ty shook his head in response.

 

“No. I want you to take him, so that you will have something to remember me by while you are gone.” Ty held the stuffed animal up for Chris to take back. Chris slowly sat down on the bed as Ty handed him the elephant.

 

After a long bout of silence, Chris finally spoke. “Are you sure?” Ty nodded firmly. “I mean, I'm pretty sure I won't forget you.”

 

“I want you to take him. He'll be safe with you.” Ty seemed to think that the matter was over with, as he walked away and attempted to close the suitcase. Chris stared down at his elephant-laden hands. Without saying another word, he stood up and headed for his own room.

 

The suitcase he was to use was still sitting idly in the dark corner by his closet, but Chris had no intention of bringing it out just yet. He set Ty's stuffed animal onto his bed and reached for the drawer of his nightstand. He grabbed a thin chain with almost no consciousness of doing so. But as he pulled the necklace out of the drawer, he paused.

 

It was obviously his most prized possession, as he had thought of it immediately and without doubt, but that was part of the problem. He held the tiny heart-shaped locket tightly in his palm, the chain slipping through the crack between his index and middle fingers.

 

The reason he was hesitant had nothing to do with Ty. He was more fearful that something would happen to it in the hands of Kirsten. He knew very well that she didn't exactly take care of her own possessions, let alone those belonging to other people.

 

But after a minute or so, Chris shook his head and realized that he was being absolutely ridiculous. It shouldn't matter whether or not he trusted Kirsten; Ty had been kind enough to give Chris his stuffed elephant. Chris was pretty sure that elephant may have been the only thing Ty loved more than him in the entire world. Therefore, he should have no problem giving Ty the locket in return.

 

With the necklace still secure in his fist, Chris walked back to Ty's room. The little boy was still trying to close the suitcase, rather unsuccessfully. Chris sat down on Ty’s bed and beckoned him over. Ty obeyed immediately and bustled towards where Chris sat, staring with big innocent eyes.

 

“I have something for you,” Chris told him, answering his unasked question. “So you won’t forget me, either.”

 

Ty’s gaze fell upon Chris’s hand, his eyes bright with excitement. “What is it?” he asked in a whisper. Chris took a deep breath, then, slowly, released his fingers to reveal the heart-shaped pendant.

 

“It’s a locket – a necklace. See, it opens,” Chris fumbled momentarily with the tiny clasp on the heart, “like that, and you can put pictures in it.”

 

Ty frowned at the emptiness of the heart’s interior, at his reflection in the gold. “How come there aren’t any pictures in there?”

 

“I took them out a while ago.”

 

“Oh.” His eyes flicked up to Chris’s again. “Can I put pictures of me and you in it?”

 

Chris thought for a few moments. “You could, but I don’t think I have any pictures of us that are small enough.” He furrowed his brow, and Ty twisted up his mouth. Silence ensued for roughly a minute before Ty jumped and exclaimed:

 

“I know! I can draw teeny pictures and put them in!” He hopped in place several times, then leaped towards Chris with great exuberance. “Can I, daddy, can I?”

 

Chris laughed. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

 

“I have to get my crayons.” With a look of determination, Ty set off to find his backpack, which lay beside the open suitcase. He rummaged through it, quickly extracting a small cardboard box. He ran back to Chris and held out his free hand. “I need the locket, please.”

 

“All right,” Chris replied, carefully setting the open heart in Ty's hand. “You draw, I'll close your suitcase for you and then start packing my own stuff. So, if you need me, I'll be in my room.”

 

“OK, daddy, and I will be drawing in the living room!” Ty closed his hand around the necklace as Chris had done, beaming at his hidden palm, then promptly ran out of the room. Chris stood up and took a moment to rejoice the fact that Ty had not questioned why Chris had a locket or why it was the locket that Chris had chosen to give him. But Chris realized, of course, that Ty was bound to ask these questions eventually, and so he tried to prepare himself as he went on with his packing.

 

Ty set the necklace and box of crayons on the small table opposite the couch, then grabbed a few pieces of computer paper from Chris's printer. He stood by the table, as it was too far from the couch and too high from the ground for him to sit. He pulled a crayon out of the box and decided that the color was fine.

 

He placed the open heart on the paper and tried to trace its shape with the crayon. Finding this to be a rather difficult task, he looked around for a pencil instead, which he found lying on the computer desk in the corner of the room. With the pencil, he made a new and better outline of the pendant. He realized then that he had hardly any space to work with, but he would have to make do with what he had. Some of the crayons produced lines too thick for the drawings, so his rendering of Chris was given more hair than it should have had, and his own eyes – though certainly large in real life – took up almost his entire face. Overall, though, he was highly pleased with the end result.

 

Ty ran into Chris's room and requested that Chris aid him in cutting the pictures and placing them in the locket. Chris had to retrieve a pair of scissors from the kitchen, and so it was on the kitchen table that Ty laid his paper and the locket. He watched cheerfully as Chris cut the pictures. He tried to help Chris when it came to shoving the tiny pieces of paper into the even smaller pendant, though he couldn't do much.

 

But ten minutes later, Chris stood behind Ty's chair and fiddled with the clasp in the back until it locked properly. Ty jumped down from the chair and beamed at the necklace. Chris knelt down beside him.

 

“Doesn't it look wonderful, daddy?” Ty asked, admiring his drawings.

 

“Yeah, it does,” Chris told him. “Now, don't sleep with it on. Make sure you take it off before you go to bed at night. And don't let your mother get a hold of it.”

 

Ty laughed. “OK, I won't.” As he stared, he twisted up his mouth, and Chris knew what was coming next. He braced himself. “Daddy, where did you get this, um, locket?”

 

Chris grimaced. “It was a Christmas gift I received a few years ago,” he said. Then, keeping his eyes down, he quietly added, “From Jonathan.” Ty said nothing else, and merely stared at Chris until suddenly there was a loud knock. Ty widened his eyes.

 

“Is that mommy?” He didn't wait for an answer, though; he bolted from the room and to the door. By the time Chris walked into the living room, Kirsten was walking inside, and Ty was hastily stuffing the necklace under his shirt. Chris stifled a laugh.

 

“Oh, you actually decided to come,” Chris said with a condescending smile aimed at Kirsten. “Good!”

 

“Uh huh. Finished packing Ty's things?” Kirsten threw a smirk back at Chris, folding her arms across her chest. Ty still stood behind her, fixing his shirt so the necklace was no longer visible. Chris rolled his eyes, but was secretly relieved that Kirsten hadn't arrived early, like he had feared.

 

“Yes, actually.” And he thanked whoever that Kirsten didn't ask about his things.

 

“Then you can help me bring them to the car, right?” Kirsten looked down at Ty, who had just finished messing with his shirt. “Or maybe I should stay and watch Ty and you can run them down to the car.”

 

“Or I can stay and watch Ty and you can run them down to your car,” Chris replied. Before Kirsten could fight back, he headed to Ty's room. The suitcase was right where he had left it beside Ty's bed. He grabbed it and made sure to pick up Ty's backpack as well. Then he returned to the living room.

 

Ty ran up to him as soon as he entered the room. “Daddy, I want to bring my stuff to the car with you!” he exclaimed, beaming. Chris threw a look of contempt at Kirsten and gave Ty his backpack to carry. Kirsten sat down on their couch and made herself look rather comfortable.

 

When they came back from the car, Kirsten was still in the same position. She looked over at them as Chris closed the door and smiled. “I thought you two were never coming back,” she said. “Glad to see you made it.”

 

Chris narrowed his eyes at her. “I assume you knew quite well that the elevator is broken?” Kirsten gave a small shrug as if to say that maybe she had known. “Yeah, well, so did I. It has functioned properly maybe once in the entire time we've lived here, so don't think your evil plan worked or anything.”

 

“I didn't have any evil plan at all, Chris, I don't know what you're talking about,” Kirsten replied in an obvious tone. Chris sighed and turned to his son, who was still standing by his side.

 

“Do you want anything to eat, Ty? I'm sure your mother wasn't planning on feeding you.”

 

“Can we have grilled cheese sandwiches, daddy?” Ty asked, pointing his large eyes in Chris's direction. Chris smiled.

 

“Is that all you ever want?”

 

Ty held his hands out defensively, giving Chris a look that seemed to imply he thought his father could be a bit daft at times. “Well, they are delicious!”

 

Chris shook his head and laughed. “Come on,” he said, leading Ty towards the kitchen. “Kirsten, do you want anything?”

 

Kirsten looked up, clearly startled by the lack of malice in Chris's voice. “Sure,” she agreed; after all, she wasn't going to just pass up an opportunity to take advantage of Chris's politeness. She followed the other two into the kitchen and sat down with Ty at the table.

 

“Mommy, do you think grilled cheese sandwiches are delicious?” Ty inquired of Kirsten while messing with the salt shaker on the table for entertainment. He looked up at Kirsten, who was watching him and smiling. Kirsten nodded.

 

“They are pretty tasty.”

 

Ty gave her a serious look. “Grilled cheese sandwiches are my favorite. Daddy makes them all the time.”

 

“I see that,” Kirsten answered with a bit of a laugh. “I hope you like mine as much as your father's, since I'll be the one making them for a while. But between you and me,” Kirsten leaned close to Ty and continued in a hushed tone, “I think mine probably won't be as good. I'm not that good of a cook.”

 

“Neither is daddy,” Ty whispered back. Chris whipped around and set his hands on his hips as he glared at the two of them.

 

“Hey! Just for that, I'm gonna burn yours.”

 

Ty giggled. “But you can make delicious grilled cheese sandwiches and delicious pancakes, and that's what matters. Please don't burn my food, daddy. I think the firemen don't like coming around here so often.”

 

Ty tried his best to stifle a roaring laughter while Chris pointed an accusing finger at Kirsten and said, “He gets this from you, you know.”

 

“I don't know,” Kirsten told him, throwing a cautious glance at Ty, “I think we're probably equally responsible for this.”

 

“Fine, but when you're not here he never does anything but praise me. It's always, 'Oh, daddy, this food is so delicious,' or 'Wow, daddy, you've done such a good job at raising me'–”

 

“And then he comes over to my place and complains about how you always threaten to burn his food and then actually do,” Kirsten interjected with a smug grin. Ty subsided his laughter to look at the two of them with a confused expression strewn across his small face.

 

“Well, I don't remember saying any of those things,” he mumbled. Kirsten focused on Ty with her head tilted to the side. After a few moments, she just smiled and poked him in the stomach to make him laugh again.

 

The three sat and peacefully feasted upon grilled cheese sandwiches until the plates were all empty and Ty's eyelids were beginning to droop. Chris collected all of the dishes and brought them to the sink as Kirsten led Ty back into the living room.

 

Ty scratched at the back of his neck, where the locket's chain was rubbing against his skin. He wanted to move it, but was afraid that Kirsten might see if he did. Instead, he just continued to rub his neck and watched as Kirsten grabbed his coat off one of the hooks by the door. Suddenly, he had a sinking feeling.

 

Chris had walked into the room as well by this point. He too watched as Kirsten took Ty's coat and brought it over to the little boy. His chest seemed to tighten ever so slightly as Kirsten said, “Hold out your arms, Ty, I've got to put this on you.”

 

Ty's voice cracked even before he spoke; he made a sort of anguished noise and asked, “We are leaving?”

 

“Yeah,” Kirsten confirmed with a nod, “it's getting late. Come on.”

 

Ty did as she asked and lifted his arms. When the coat was snug against him, he turned to Chris with shining eyes that were so saturated Chris thought they were making his own vision blurry, until he realized that he too was tearing up. He bent down so that when Ty came up to him and crumbled forward he was able to grab him and hug him even tighter than he had the night when Ty first learned of Chris's trip.

 

“Goodbye, daddy,” Ty sniveled. Chris had not expected to break down just as much as Ty, but as he held on he found it impossible to do anything but let several tears drip down his cheeks, not caring that Kirsten was probably watching and thinking he was overly effeminate.

 

“Goodbye, Ty,” he replied in a gravelly voice. “Listen, I'm gonna try to call you as much as I can, all right? I'm gonna try – two or three times a week I'll call you. As much as I can.” He recoiled and pushed back some of the hair in Ty's face. “Be good for your mum, yeah? And try to have fun. Don't be such a sad sack.”

 

Chris laughed shortly, and Ty responded by lifting his hand and drying a small bit of Chris's cheek while frowning deeply. Chris smiled at him and thought that he could continue to be strong from this point on. No more crying.

 

But he realized after he whispered, “Thanks,” and let Ty go that watching him actually leave did even more damage to his masculinity than he could ever have anticipated. He felt a little ridiculous standing in front of the closed door and bawling, and when there was a knock a few minutes later that feeling only intensified.

 

“Hey, Chris, what's wrong?” was the first thing that Tristan asked as he stepped into the room after Chris held the door open for him. Chris wiped his cheeks and tried not to look too embarrassed.

 

“Nothing, I just – I just had to say goodbye to my son,” Chris explained with a few stutters and dry hiccups. He tried to smile, but failed as his lips quivered and his eyelids fluttered. Tristan did smile, though, a smile that was sympathetic and slightly mocking, but somehow comforting nevertheless.

 

“I'd imagine that was hard.”

 

“Yeah. Well, I've still got to finish packing, so...” Chris trailed off when he became aware that the ending to that particular sentence was maybe we should go to my bedroom now. He already felt awkward enough because of his actions, he didn't need his words to worsen his mood. Tristan was quite intelligent, anyway, and could understand his meaning without the concluding phrase.

 

“All right, then. Lead the way,” he kindly said, gesturing for Chris to start moving onward. Chris marched on quickly and with an odd stiffness that came from the idea that he should suddenly act with extreme caution until he felt he could safely not make an idiot of himself.

 

He didn't even turn around when they were actually in the bedroom. He just kept going until he reached the open suitcase on his bed and he grabbed one of the books he had set on his pillow with the intention of placing it in the suitcase. Tristan wasn't paying him any attention, though, just strutting around the room and taking particular notice of Chris's exposed wardrobe through the open closet door.

 

“Wow,” Tristan said so loudly that Chris, startled, whipped his head around to see what had happened. “That is a lot of lavender.”

 

Truthfully, Chris couldn't decide if the statement was meant in a positive or negative way and so he instead decided to just remain calm. “Uh, yeah. I guess it kinda is.”

 

“Seriously, how many of these shirts do you own?”

 

Tristan began to flick through the shirts that were hanging and Chris cringed a little. “Probably about fifty.” Tristan looked back at him with a look of slight disbelief, then laughed and went back to examining the clothing. Chris went into defensive and loquacious mode. “Well, they're really comfortable. And cheap. And Ty says I look good in lavender.”

 

“He's right. You do.” Tristan stopped his inspection and joined Chris by the bedside. For several long and silent seconds they stared at each other and Chris frantically searched his brain for the next appropriate thing to say.

 

Being a writer, he thought maybe he could come up with something more clever than, “Plus, I think I'm allowed to be stereotypically gay in at least one aspect of my life,” yet his vocal chords did not seem to agree. Luckily for him, Tristan found his verbalization amusing.

 

“So, you went for the girly clothing?” Tristan grinned. “Good choice. Do you need help packing?”

 

Tristan's head turned as he observed the books piled on Chris's pillow. Chris followed his gaze and gave a slight shrug. “Uh, sure.” He looked down to see Tristan's hand gliding over the comforter pulled tightly across the mattress.

 

“You have a really nice bed,” he slyly remarked. Chris's mouth involuntarily twitched upward in the corners.

 

“Well, thanks.” Tristan's hand fell back to his side and he looked up at Chris.

 

“Maybe when the packing is all done you could show me how nice it is.”

 

Chris blushed and awkwardly averted his gaze. “Subtle.” He could hear Tristan laugh softly in response. He lifted his eyes again and felt a smile stretch across his face. “There's not actually much left to pack. Just the stuff on the bed here and I should probably go get my toothbrush and razor and things from the bathroom.”

 

Tristan agreed to pack Chris's books while Chris ran to get his toiletry items. Within ten minutes the suitcase was filled, zipped tight and stored in the corner of the room for the following morning. Tristan was already lounging on the bed by the time Chris walked back from setting the suitcase down on the floor.

 

From the other side of the bed, Chris crawled over to where Tristan lay, then flopped over onto his back and accidentally let his head fall onto Tristan's abdomen. “Oops,” Chris said in an obvious way.

 

Tristan slid his fingers under the collar of Chris's shirt and down as far as they could reach. When Chris glanced at him upside down, Tristan arched an eyebrow and echoed, “Oops.” Chris smiled and looked back down towards his feet, remarking how they were both really in quite odd and slightly uncomfortable positions, if not just because Tristan had his elbow bent almost completely backwards and Chris was so tall that his feet were hanging off the edge of the bed. He tried to wiggle away so that Tristan would pull his hand back and maybe he could sit in a more proper fashion.

 

Proper was not what Tristan had in mind – and neither was sitting. Tristan was rather tiny even for his size and therefore able to move with even more haste than Chris; as he was trying to maneuver into a new and cozier position, Chris found himself being pinned down into the mattress with a surprisingly muscular twenty-five-year-old straddling him.

 

Thus, it was a good half hour before Chris was actually able to sit as he had intended, and even then he was still half-lying at the top of the bed with an arm around Tristan and the fingers of his other hand laced with Tristan's, the combination of said appendages resting on Chris's bare stomach. Both men were breathless, stripped down to their boxers (though they had actually been wearing even less mere minutes before) and contentedly sleepy. Chris could feel Tristan's eyelashes scrape against his skin as Tristan closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

 

They laid in silence for the next fifteen minutes. Tristan tilted his head back to get a better view of Chris, only to find that Chris had fallen asleep. Tristan smiled to himself and reached over to turn off the light on Chris's nightstand. He repositioned himself against Chris, pulling the comforter over the two of them, and tried to sleep.

 

 

[coldplayisawesome]

 

Chapter Seven - Part Two

 

 

 

In the morning they both woke up within five minutes of each other. Tristan asked what time it was and when they had to be at the airport; Chris told him that they had a few hours left before they had to leave.

 

“Oh, a few hours, huh?” Tristan seductively mumbled, leaning into Chris and running his foot over Chris's leg. “That's quite a long span of time to have to fill...”

 

Chris let out a soft laugh. “I'm sure we'll manage.”

 

After three hours, two plates of breakfast and one hasty shower, Chris and Tristan stood outside of the apartment building at the back of Tristan's car. Chris hoisted his suitcase into the open trunk and wondered how it was that he didn't have more stuff – although he was glad to have to carry so little.

 

The entire ride to the airport was spent between listening to the radio and listening to Tristan talk about his friend Claire who also worked at the school. If Chris had been the jealous type, Tristan's stories may have caused him a bit of worry; luckily, Chris was quite level-headed and he believed Tristan's promise that he would never sleep around while in an actual relationship (though he did admit to being rather promiscuous otherwise).

 

Tristan insisted on carrying Chris's suitcase into the building for him. It was almost a comical sight; Chris had never realized until this point just how large his suitcase actually was, as compared to his size it looked relatively normal. Since Tristan was significantly smaller than Chris, though, in his arms the suitcase seemed giant. Chris held back a laugh when Tristan tried to open one of the doors at the entrance without setting the suitcase down, and he felt bad for even thinking to laugh after Tristan actually succeeded.

 

Just before Chris had to board the plane, Tristan made sure to let him know just how much he would be missed: As a result, their goodbye kiss had attracted a small, unwanted crowd, mostly composed of disapproving mothers and their children. Chris was apt to just ignore them, but Tristan appeared to be feeling much more playful; he turned to one middle-aged woman with dark brown hair and promptly told her, “Feel free to keep staring, but if you want a show, we're going to charge. A lot,” which worked effectively in forcing her to walk away.

 

When the woman had disappeared, Chris chuckled and asked, “How much is a lot?”

 

“Enough that we'd never have to work ever again,” Tristan answered, resting his hands over Chris's collarbone. Then he lifted one eyebrow and added, “Or just enough that we could make a living out of doing it.”

 

“In airport terminals?”

 

“Hmm, perhaps we'll have to upgrade to something more luxurious in time.”

 

They shared a laugh and one more goodbye, then Chris set off on his own. As he sat down in his seat on the plane, it hit him just how lonely he was bound to be for the next month. Thinking about loneliness was one thing – and bad enough – but actually having to live the feeling was much worse. He thought about the irony, how he would probably be surrounded by a lot of people – the plane's seats were already nearly all occupied – and yet he may as well have been locked up in an empty room. If he were a poet, he thought, this experience should give him plenty of inspiration; unfortunately, he couldn't even fathom writing at the moment. He started a countdown in his head of how much time was left until his return.

 

The subject hardly left his mind. That night, as Chris mused on the fact that it had been almost a full twenty-four hours since he had seen his son, he was struck with an idea. For almost every night of the next month he was scheduled to do a book reading or some other sort of similar event, yet he still had plenty of free time to spare. Why not use the time productively?

 

He pulled a blank paper from his suitcase (he had figured that bringing along a notebook and pen would be smart, despite his earlier lack of motivation) and began to jot down several ideas and little sketches to go along with them. Within an hour he had an entire storyline planned out for what was to be a small children's book, a book which he would write, print, and perhaps even illustrate himself and then present to Ty as a gift. It was brilliant, really. Ty would absolutely love it. Chris was getting excited just thinking about the little five-year-old's reaction.

 

“Daddy,” Ty would say, eyes as large as saucers, “you made a book just for me?” Chris would tell him that yes, the book was made just for him. Ty would jump around a bit and ask to be read to. He would probably talk about it for ages afterward.

 

There was only one small problem, which was that Chris couldn't draw to save his life. Even the sketches he had drawn on the page were horrendous. He thought back to Ty's crayon drawings of the two of them and decided that Ty was probably a much better artist than he could ever hope to be.

 

He considered his options: The book didn't really need illustrations, did it? He had read loads of books to Ty that contained no illustrations whatsoever. One more picture-less book wouldn't make a difference. Or he could always find someone else to create the illustrations for the book. The book might feel less personal then, though.

 

Unless, of course, he were to give the job to someone he was close to.

 

Chris sat up straight and reached for the phone at his bedside. He wasn't sure how much the hotel charged per call, and he didn't know if the number was considered long-distance, but neither mattered to him at that moment. He held the receiver in one hand and with the other he dialed. The other line started ringing and he held his breath as he waited for his brother to answer.

 

 

[coldplayisawesome]

it's not like i forgot to post again :rolleyes:

 

Chapter Eight - Part One

 

 

 

After completing the call to Alex, Chris hung up the phone and looked around the room for a bit. He had never stayed in a hotel before, except for one time when he was six years old and his family had taken a trip to visit other family members, but he couldn't remember what the hotel had been like then. This room reminded him very much of his parents' house, with the dry-cleaned bed sheets and the unnecessary and irrelevant artwork on the walls.

 

As much as he wanted to hate the similarities and the memories that subsequently flooded back, he found himself liking the extraneous paintings of the meadows and lakes which he had never heard of before. He liked the way his body sank into the mattress and the way the smooth sheets rubbed against his bare forearms. He wouldn't mind living here permanently, were it not for two things: The first being the outrageous prices the hotel charged for everything and anything, and the second being the absence of his son. Ty would have liked the paintings, too.

 

With this in mind, Chris picked up the phone once more (he almost stopped himself – he knew it would cost an arm and a leg) and dialed Kirsten's number. To his surprise, a very tiny voice answered.

 

“Hello? Um, are you calling for... Kirsten? Because she isn't here right now.”

 

Chris felt panic pulse through his veins. “Excuse me?”

 

“Daddy?” the voice gasped, then squealed in delight. Chris did not feel as joyful at the moment.

 

“Did Kirsten seriously leave you by yourself?”

 

“Oh, no, mommy's right here,” Ty replied. “She made me answer the phone in case someone wanted to talk to her. You don't want to talk to her, do you?”

 

Chris breathed a slight sigh of relief; he wasn't too thrilled that Kirsten was forcing Ty to do what she should have been doing, though he was certainly glad that she hadn't been irresponsible enough to leave him all alone. “Not really, no. I called to talk to you.”

 

“You did?”

 

Ty sounded so pleased that his tone forced Chris to laugh. “Yes, I did. I told you that I would call you as much as I could, remember?”

 

“I miss you, daddy.”

 

“And I miss you, kid,” Chris told him. He repositioned himself on the bed so that he was closer to lying than sitting. “Are you having fun with your mum, at least?”

 

“Well, mommy and I were doing our schoolwork together earlier. But she's still working now.”

 

“Wait.” Chris quickly sat up and looked around the room for a clock. “What time is it? Shouldn't you be in bed by now?”

 

“Well, I don't know how to tell time,” Ty said, and Chris could tell from his tone that he was shrugging. Chris almost laughed, but his adult side got the better of him and he sighed in a frustrated, yet unsurprised, manner. Of course Kirsten would shirk her responsibilities. She probably knew exactly what time it was, but that wouldn't make her care in the least.

 

“On second thought, could you put your mother on the phone?”

 

Chris heard Ty’s muffled voice speaking to Kirsten, who seemed to be putting up a fight. A minute later, though, there was a small crackle as the phone changed hands, and Kirsten’s voice broke loudly through the silence.

 

“What do you want? I’m trying to finish my schoolwork, Chris.”

 

“Well, you should also be trying to take care of our child, Kirsten. It’s past his bedtime.”

 

“No, it’s only eight-thirty,” she replied, clearly annoyed. Chris knew then that the conversation was pointless. Briefly, he thought of yelling at her, reprimanding her on her skills (or lack thereof) as a parent, but he decided to forgo the lecture this time.

 

“Whatever, put Ty back on.” Chris relaxed on the bed again. If Kirsten was going to be intolerable, then he wanted nothing to do with her. He could only hope that she would return Ty in one piece at the end of the month.

 

Kirsten obeyed Chris’s command, not bothering to say goodbye. Ty sounded excited to speak to Chris once more. Chris asked how Ty’s day at school had gone, and Ty told him all about the art project they started. He said that Ms. L made sure to put Ty and Daren in separate groups, which Chris was relieved to hear.

 

Then Chris told Ty about the plane ride, though he didn’t think the story was as interesting as Ty found it to be. Ty asked roughly a hundred questions – or so it seemed – yet he never ran out of things to ask. He wanted to know about the people on the plane, what it felt like to be on the plane, where Chris sat, if he looked out of the window, if he saw any clouds floating next to the plane. Chris tried to give more than yes-or-no answers, but he hadn’t honestly done anything on the plane other than think about how lonely he was going to be (though he did play several rounds of tic-tac-toe with himself).

 

The two chatted for almost half an hour before Chris finally decided it was time to end the call. He could tell by the shift in Ty’s tone that the little boy was fatigued, and it was already an hour past the time he normally put Ty to bed.

 

Ty protested a little when Chris told him that he needed to go to bed. He claimed that he wasn’t tired at all, and that he could continue talking on the phone for hours before he even started to feel tired. Chris knew better, of course, and even though he would have loved to talk to Ty for a longer period of time, he convinced the five-year-old to hang up and go to sleep, promising that they could talk again the next day.

 

Then, with nothing better to do until the morning, Chris turned off the lights and went to sleep.

 

He woke up the next morning and rolled over to find that, according to the clock, he had slept until ten. He felt strange. This was the first time in several months that he was able to sleep past seven-thirty (he had decided at the beginning of summer that he would start preparing Ty for a school schedule). Oddly, he felt no more awake than usual.

 

He went to the bathroom, dressed, and decided that now would be a good time to eat something. The hotel provided breakfast for all of its occupants, but Chris felt sure that he had missed it – which was fine. He wanted to get out and see the town anyway.

 

This late in the morning, there were very few pedestrians roaming the streets. He felt strange again. It was like he had stumbled upon an alternate world, an alien world. Everything was so quiet in comparison to the city noise he was normally surrounded by. As he walked down the sidewalk and passed several bookstores, he couldn't help thinking that Ty would love this place.

 

Even with the lack of people on the street, it still took him ten minutes to find a place to eat. To be fair, he had taken the opportunity to casually stroll past the stores, a luxury he was not used to having. The place that he found had also, not surprisingly, stopped serving breakfast, but this was not a problem. He ordered a sandwich from their lunch menu and got it to go.

 

Just down the road from the shop was a small park. He thought it seemed the perfect place to eat a sandwich, and so he strolled over and sat himself down on one of the benches. On the other side of the bench, a young woman (though she was clearly older than Chris) sat and watched as her small son played on the ground before her. On the small patch of dirt that stood out from the surrounding grass the little boy had placed a toy firetruck. Beside the truck were several tiny firefighters.

 

After watching the little boy play for several minutes, Chris noticed that the mother was glaring at him. He coughed and smiled awkwardly.

 

“My son has never really been big on playing with actual toys,” Chris babbled, unsure of how his words were supposed to redeem him. Was the woman supposed to feel better knowing that he also had a child? “But he's very imaginative.”

 

The woman nodded. At first, she seemed to remain suspicious, but after a moment she brightened. “You're lucky then. No toys to trip and break your neck on. This one,” she pointed to her son, “likes to leave his firetruck right in the middle of the kitchen. I keep telling him that if he doesn't move that truck, soon he'll see an ambulance come to the house.”

 

He chuckled. “I guess I am lucky. Even if Ty did have a lot of toys, he would probably put them away without having to be told. He's rather neat. Except for when he's eating.”

 

“Does he get that from you?” Chris nearly gave her a quizzical look, but she pointed to his sandwich just in time. He looked down to find that even though he had yet to take one bite, some of the mustard had leaked out of the sandwich and onto his pants.

 

Chris sighed. “Apparently.” As he reached for a napkin in the paper bag at his side, the woman laughed – but it wasn't a regular laugh. No, Chris could definitely detect the flirtatious undertone. He paused as his hand touched the napkin. He glanced at the woman...

 

The sunlight caught on a shiny object on the woman's left hand. Chris let out the breath he wasn't aware he had been holding. Maybe she was flirting with him, but if she was married then there was no real danger (Chris almost immediately recognized the irony in his thinking) – and he might have misinterpreted her tone anyway.

 

Chris pulled out the napkin and tried to rub off as much of the mustard as he could. He did remove most of it, though there was still a faint yellow spot left behind. At least he had extra pants to change into.

 

The woman must not have been too interested in Chris after all, as they spoke not one word from that point on. Chris devoured his sandwich, but by the time that he finished, the little boy had already decided that he was tired of the park and wanted to do something else. His mother had rolled her eyes, and they left without saying goodbye.

 

The rest of the afternoon Chris spent walking back through the town, admiring the shops from the outside. He thought about going into one of the bookstores and finding something for Ty, but he realized that the bookstore he had chosen was the same one he would be reading at that evening. There were several posters in the windows advertising the event as well as his book. He decided that if he were to get something there for Ty, he could look later.

 

He also realized then that he was extremely nervous for the event. This would be the first time he ever stood in front of a group of people to talk about something he wrote. He wasn't even sure exactly what went on at these sort of things. He would probably have to read an excerpt.

 

Throughout the day, he tried to keep his thoughts away from that evening so that he wouldn't worry too much. After all, he usually did well speaking in front of people, and this time would be no different.

 

Except that when he finally did stand in front of the crowd, right after a lovely introduction from the rather handsome bookstore owner, all the anxiety he had suppressed came rushing to the surface, and he questioned why he just had to write a book about something so personal.

 

“Well...” he began, hoping that he wouldn't sound too awkward. “Thank you all for coming here tonight. It means a lot to me that even this small group of people care enough about a piece I created to devote an entire evening to. And this is only the first one of these, so I guess I'm in for a treat.”

 

Several people in the audience laughed. Chris felt a wave of relief rush over him. Maybe this wouldn't be so terrible after all.

 

He took a deep breath. “You'll all have to bear with me, I'm afraid I've never done this before, nor have I had the pleasure of attending one. I'd like to thank my publisher for giving me no preparation.”

 

More laughs. Chris began to feel even more comfortable in front of this crowd. If nothing else, he at least felt certain that no rotten fruit would be thrown in his direction on this particular evening.

 

Indeed, by the time the crowd had lined up for the book signing, not one object had been thrown. The crowd was made up of delightful people who had actively participated in the event without being rude. Chris's anxiety had melted away quickly and he had become quite comfortable with this group.

 

It soon became apparent to him that not everyone was as at ease as he was. Sure, most of the people he encountered were friendly, smiling and joking with him as he scribbled his name on the covers of their books. But, roughly halfway through the line, one boy approached Chris with an expression which was nothing short of terror.

 

The boy placed his book in front of Chris with great caution. Chris just smiled at him and asked him for his name, to which the boy replied, “Daniel.”

 

“Well, hello, Daniel,” Chris nearly chirped. Daniel looked no less frightened at this.

 

“Hi,” he said in a quiet voice, his wrist twitching a little. “I just wanted to thank you... I read the book three times and... it helped in a way. I have this friend, and... he means everything to me, but... it's not that he's not like that, it's... Well, it's hard to explain.”

 

Chris stared at the boy in shock for a few moments. “You read it three times?” He realized that it might seem rude for him to focus only on that part, but he had a hard time believing that someone would even want to read anything he wrote three times.

 

Yet, the boy nodded. “I know it's not like you wrote it with me in mind... Thank you, though.”

 

“First of all, thank you for your support,” Chris told him. The rest of what the boy had said began to sink in, and Chris felt a bit proud. “You are right; I don't even know who you are. But I am glad that I could help, even in such an indirect manner. I hope things work out with your friend.”

 

The boy shrugged at the last bit, as if to say that he had no such hope. To see such a reaction saddened Chris, especially as he could never imagine himself giving up so easily on anything even remotely close to love (he vaguely recalled a comment Tristan had once made about his stubbornness). He signed the boy's book – the pages did look worn – writing a message which he hoped would cheer the boy up a bit:

 

Daniel,

 

Things have a way of working themselves out. Don't lose hope, even if it seems like everything's lost.

 

Chris

 

He handed the book back to Daniel, who clutched it tightly to his chest. Daniel hesitated for a moment, then said once more in a soft voice, “Thank you... again.” Chris nodded his reply, and watched as Daniel slinked away. Before the next person came up to the desk, Chris noticed another boy standing toward the back of the shop, where Daniel was now headed, and he thought this might be the friend of which Daniel spoke. The boy looked very nonchalant and disinterested, as if he had simply been dragged along by his friend. Chris felt an odd mixture of hope and sympathy for Daniel.

 

The rest of the people Chris encountered that night were far more relaxed than Daniel had been. Chris guessed that those people had probably read his book only once, if at all. A few of the women seemed rather excited to be in his presence, though, which honestly made him feel a little uncomfortable. One of those women didn't even know his name; she had walked right up to him and called him, “Chaz,” but he didn't have the heart to correct her.

 

As Chris collapsed into the bed of his hotel room later that night, he exhaled loudly in relief, glad that it was finally over and that his job was not one which required a lot of manual labor. He had once, in his teenage years, taken up a job at a fast-food restaurant in order to save up enough money for his own apartment, and he had juggled that job with his schoolwork. It had been rough, he had never had any free time, and he nearly failed one of his classes because of it, but he had survived just fine. Now, though, as he stared at the ceiling and wondered just how many people had been crammed into that shop that evening, he felt more drained than he could ever remember feeling back then.

 

In the darkness, Chris's mind brought out visions of his past, clips of memories which he had lived through many years before. At first, he thought of that boy, Daniel, and the way he twitched nervously, but that reminded him of the way he had felt when he first spoke to Jonathan. Then he remembered his parents, and Penny, and his friends at public school, and that one neighbor who lived in the apartment next door when he and Ty first moved in, who would invite the two of them over for dinner when she knew that they were running low on food and Chris's paycheck was dwindling, and Ty, who was hopefully sleeping peacefully at the moment, and Kirsten, who couldn't have been a worse mother if she had taken lessons in bad parenting, and Leeroch, who should have done a better job of preparing Chris for the tour, and finally Tristan, which Chris felt guilty about, because he had thought of Jonathan first.

 

The clips played without ceasing and he fell asleep dreaming of it all.

 

The following two weeks brought more of the same. Chris would wake up in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar town, and spend the day wandering about, eating sandwiches when his stomach so desired. Nearly every night he had an event to attend, some packed worse than the first, some with only a handful of people in attendance.

 

He tried to call Ty every night, but as he often lost track of time before his book readings, and by the time he returned Ty should have been asleep, he didn't have the chance to speak with his son as often as he wanted. Ty always answered the phone with great exuberance, even when he probably had no clue that the caller on the other line was Chris (Chris suspected that Kirsten simply handed the phone to Ty and told him to cover for her any time that a number she didn't recognize popped up on the caller ID). According to the little boy, he had no more problems with his classmates (at least, no new problems) and he rather enjoyed spending time with his mother, though Ty made it very clear during every phone call that Chris was sorely missed.

 

One afternoon, Chris actually realized the time well before he needed to be anywhere, and he was able to make the call without worrying about running late. He lay back on the bed and tossed Ty's stuffed elephant in the air, attempting to then catch it with one hand, while he waited for the phone to stop ringing. As expected, Ty answered the phone with a chirp.

 

“Hello! This is Tyrone speaking. Can I help you?” Chris rolled his eyes and thought that on the bright side, at least Ty had learned how to use good phone manners.

 

“Yes, Tyrone,” Chris started in a suave voice, hoping that his normal voice was disguised enough to trick the boy, “I was just wondering if you were interested in purchasing some stock in a company called Stuffed Elephants. We cater to five-year-old boys who own grey, stuffed elephants, and I believe that you fit the criteria.”

 

“Well... I have an elephant,” Ty replied, hesitantly, “but I don't know what the rest of that means.”

 

Chris heard some rustling in the background, and suddenly Kirsten's voice rang out, “Ty? Who is it?”

 

“A man, and he is asking me about stuffed elephants.”

 

“Probably some drunk. Just hang up.”

 

“Hey, tell your mother I'm not a drunk,” Chris said to Ty, forgoing his suave tone. He then heard Ty's familiar gasp and squeal of excitement.

 

“Daddy!!” Then the line crackled some more as Ty held the phone away to speak to Kirsten. “Mommy, it's just daddy.” His voice became much clearer as he said to Chris, “Hi, daddy. What does all that stuff you said mean?”

 

“Don't worry about it; it's much too complicated to explain over the phone.”

 

Ty simply replied with an, “Oh,” then steered the conversation toward his school day. He and Chris spoke for roughly an hour before Chris decided he needed to ready himself for that night's reading. Ty sounded disappointed when he said goodbye, and afterward Chris consulted his mental calendar to count down the days left of the tour.

 

Surprisingly, he found that the halfway mark loomed much closer than he had thought. In two more nights, the second week of the tour would be finished, and only two more weeks remained. Though it still felt like a long time to be away from his son, Chris figured that he could survive those two weeks without great difficulty.

 

Once he had changed into clean clothes (he'd had another run-in with rogue mustard that afternoon), Chris left the hotel, humming to himself. The warm October air, combined with the thought of seeing his son again in a relatively short amount of time, made him feel happy, though as he neared the building in which he would speak that evening, a more ominous feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

 

This particular town was more familiar to him than the others had been, as it was so close to his hometown. He had never really visited this place often, though he could remember having been there several times during his youth. He figured that must have been the reason for the sudden anxiety which bubbled in his abdomen, an anxiety far different from the bouts of stage fright he had experienced in the past.

 

As he stood in front of the decently sized crowd and spoke, he expected something terrible to happen – maybe the building would catch fire or someone would suffer from a massive stroke right in the middle of his speaking. Yet, the evening went as planned and no firetrucks or ambulances were required. Chris began to think that he might have just had a weird reaction to the sandwich he had eaten earlier.

 

The crowd at this event was much friendlier and more social than the other crowds Chris had encountered thus far. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, which made Chris very happy and helped him to forget that he had ever been worried about the night.

 

Several of the people in the line for the book signing gathered around the table, as they had all come to the event as a group. They stood at the table for a while (luckily, they were toward the end of the line and the people behind them were patient) and chatted with Chris, making jokes that had everyone in stitches, even after several minutes.

 

“Who am I making this one out to?” Chris asked, still laughing, as another book was pushed in front of him. His smile faded as he looked up and he felt a weight drop in his stomach.

 

The man in front of him was tall, about as tall as Chris, with nearly identical blue eyes. He even had the same short curls, though this man's curls were entirely grey. Chris felt his breath catch in his throat and his eyes watered slightly.

 

“Hello, Christopher,” the man said.

 

Chris quickly looked back down at the book and scribbled a message with a trembling hand:

 

Dad,

 

We'll talk later.

 

Chris

 

He slid the book away without speaking or even looking up. Once he felt his father's presence leave, though, he watched as his father went to stand off to the side of the line.

 

“Next,” Chris croaked, still shaken even as he signed the last of the books.

 

 

[coldplayisawesome]

 

Chapter Eight - Part Two

 

 

 

 

Soon, all of the others had gone, and only Chris and his father were left. Chris took his time helping to pack up the desk, though there was not much to be packed other than a few pens and some paper advertisements for other events at the bookstore. Still, he offered his hand in exchange for a few extra minutes to gather his thoughts.

 

Yet, he felt no more prepared when he finally did approach his father (and he figured that he never would have been, even if he had taken years to pack that desk). His legs felt a bit unstable and the burning sensation in his stomach had returned in full force. His father was busy flipping through the pages of the book as Chris stopped in front of him.

 

“What brings you here, then?” Chris asked in a voice that was much stronger than he had expected. He felt a bit of relief when the blue eyes that gazed up at him showed a hint of nervousness.

 

Cliff closed the book and let his hand fall to his side. His free hand he shoved into his pocket. “I saw a poster hanging in the window of the grocery store. And I thought... It can't be. It's a fairly common name. But I did some research, and I found out that it really was you.” He scuffed the bottom of his shoe against the floor and looked down. “Your mother thinks I'm out for cigars with the guys.”

 

Chris nodded. It wasn't exactly the answer he wanted to hear. “You just wanted my autograph?”

 

“I wanted to say that I made a mistake,” Cliff said, staring at his feet. “Your mother and I both.”

 

That was closer to what Chris had hoped Cliff would say, though he hadn't expected his father to actually say it. He swallowed and tried to prevent his hopes from rising too far. “You did?”

 

Cliff paused for a few moments, his thumb brushing over the cover of the book in his hand. He seemed to be readying himself for a long speech. After a few more moments, he took a deep breath and looked right at Chris.

 

“A while after your last visit, I was up in the attic and I found this old photo album with pictures from a trip we took... must have been fifteen years ago now. David was sixteen, Alex was eleven, and you were six. We'd gone fishing. David made out fairly well; Alex didn't even try.

 

“You were so excited when you felt a pull on your line. I helped you reel it in, but it was just a pile of leaves. I thought you would be so disappointed, but all you did was laugh. You even named it. You were only disappointed after your mother made you toss the leaves back in.”

 

“I think I remember that,” Chris quietly said.

 

Cliff sighed, took his hand out of his pocket and gripped the book with both hands. He stared at the cover, shaking his head slightly. “By then it was too late, much too late. You'd graduated. I didn't know where you were, if you'd gone to university–”

 

“I didn't go to uni.” Cliff glanced up with a questioning expression. “I got a job my last year of school and saved up enough money so that I could rent an apartment and take care of my son.”

 

“You... have a son?” Cliff asked, now with a look somewhere between surprised and confused.

 

“With Kirsten, yes. As I'm sure you remember.” At the mention of Kirsten, Cliff did seem to remember. He nodded his head and transformed his mouth into an 'o'. Chris felt a pressing urge to continue, though he did so hesitantly. “I have a picture of him...” Chris reached into his pocket for his wallet, taking a step forward. He flipped open to the small picture of a grinning Ty and held it out for Cliff to see. “He turned five in August, and he just started school last month.”

 

Cliff smiled as he examined the photograph. “Cute kid.”

 

Chris beamed as he shoved the walled back into his pocket. “He really is adorable. He says some of the most ridiculous things at times.”

 

“He gets that from you,” Cliff said. His tone was a bit stiff, but it was obvious that they were starting to slide into a more casual conversation. “You were like that as a child.”

 

Though Chris was unsurprised to hear this, he smiled at the thought of passing on his character traits to his son. He briefly wondered then if he shared those same traits with his father as well. He looked up to find that Cliff was staring at one of the bookshelves to the side of where they stood.

 

“It was a great mistake,” Cliff finally said, though he spoke in such a soft voice that Chris almost missed the words. He kept his eyes on the bookshelf, his one hand returned to his pocket. Where he held the book, his fingers were white. “When I looked at those pictures, I realized something. You are my son, just as much as David is, just as much as Alex is. It was wrong to act otherwise, but I can't take back what happened, and for that I truly am sorry.”

 

“Are you saying you're OK with having a gay son?” Chris's voice cracked a bit toward the end, but he ignored it. Cliff looked at him with an expression meant to confirm, but it wasn't enough. “Say it. I won't forgive you unless you say it.”

 

Cliff opened his mouth, but did not immediately speak. Chris suddenly felt overwhelmed and he looked down at his hands.

 

“I'm... OK with having a... a gay son.” Chris's eyes remained down as his chest tightened. Cliff clearly struggled to speak the words, but Chris could tell by the tone that they were true. “I'm OK with having a gay son,” Cliff said again, and this time Chris looked at him. But only for a few moments, as his vision blurred with tears and he embraced his father.

 

Cliff placed his arms around Chris as well, his grip tight, regretful and determined. For a while they stood silently, Chris thinking about how ridiculous it was for him to be a grown man crying into his father's shoulder, though he didn't dare try to stop himself.

 

“I'm proud of you, you know.” Chris sniffed a little, but didn't move. “I read the book. You're very talented.”

 

“Thank you,” Chris said.

 

After a few more moments, he pulled away and dried his eyes on his sleeve. He noticed that his father's eyes looked rather watery also.

 

“I should be going,” Cliff said. “I wouldn't want your mother to start worrying. Or to figure out that I lied to her.”

 

Chris laughed. “Yeah. It's not good being on mum's bad side.”

 

“How long are you doing this tour for?” Chris consulted his mental calendar and rattled off the remaining time. “Maybe when you've finished, you could stop by for dinner some time. Bring that kid of yours.”

 

“I think he'd like that,” Chris replied with a smile.

 

Once Cliff had left the store, Chris stayed by the bookshelf for a few minutes and replayed what had happened in his mind. He even pinched himself a couple of times to make sure he was awake. The woman working at the shop asked him if anything was wrong, as he had apparently been standing there for nearly ten minutes. He shook his head and smiled at her.

 

“No, actually,” he said. “Nothing's wrong.”

 

Chris walked back to the hotel feeling much better than he had earlier – or, for that matter, than he had in quite a long time.