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

[ColdplayPenguin]

Twisted Logic

 

Chapter 17

 

I hope you guys like it! :cheesy:

 

 

 

 

Chris threw his coat over his shoulders and hopped out the window, returning ten minutes later with a cardboard box and a lid.

 

He stared down at it with large watery eyes, he shakily lowered it onto the blanket beside me.

 

"I don't want to do this," he whispered, "I don't want to leave him in here,"

 

I rubbed his shoulder, "You aren't leaving him," I placed my index finger against his chest, "He is still in here," I moved my finger to the side of his head, "-And up here,"

 

"I want him back again," Chris croaked, a few tears dribbled down his cheeks.

 

I slowly lifted Biscuit into Chris' arms, he stared down at the animal with such love and sadness that I almost burst into tears.

 

"I love you baby," he kissed the dog's head for a few silent seconds, carefully opening the box and placing Biscuit's favourite cushion inside, gently laying the dog down and reaching for the lid, the tears coming harder and faster as his breath caught in his throat as he pushed the lid down, he began to breathe erratically, crumbling his beautiful features up as he collapsed into my chest, crying hard.

 

I held him tightly, my own eyes raining consistently on my cheeks, "I am so sorry," I told him again and again, and most of what he replied was completely indecipherable.

 

"I-I miss h-him," he stuttered, gasping convulsively.

 

"I promise you, we will get through this," I whispered into his hair.

 

"I know," he sniffled, looking at me, "It just hurts so bad,"

 

I knew that Chris would bounce back from this, because he always did.

But it had cut him so deeply that I was certain it would leave a scar.

 

I ran my hand through his hair, "I know it does, but we have a job to do," I climbed to my feet and pulled him up with me, "We have to give Biscuit the send-off he deserves,"

 

Chris nodded determinedly, his rather long hair bobbling with the movement as he dried off his eyes.

 

"Looks like we are hitch hiking," he mumbled with a shaky laugh.

 

Standing on the side of the road while the heavens snowed down around us, Chris and I, -if we weren't completely certain of it before, soon discovered how harsh people can be.

 

But fifteen minutes later, and about three hundred vehicles later, a huge truck came to a halt beside us, steam from its loud exhaust clouding the air around us, the man leaned out his window, "Where to?" he growled.

 

I stared at Chris for a moment, before turning back to him, "We don't really know,"

 

"Get the fuck in before you cause a build up on the freeway," I clambered up onto the passenger seat, clumsily pulling Chris up as the driver sped away before he could sit down, leaving me having a rather skinny curly-haired man in my lap.

 

Chris looked distastefully at the small bit of space I had made for him and instead chose to stay on my lap, wrapping the seatbelt around us both.

 

Carefully lowering the cardboard box onto the floor of the truck beside our two rucksacks, I turned to the driver beside us, "Thank you for this," he grunted his reply and focused on the road, the wipers racing frantically against the snow and bright New York lights.

 

As judgemental and stereotypical as it sounds, this guy immediately spoke Nickleback and 'I eat my steaks raw,' I think it was the checkered shirt and the long beard. I don't know much about anything really, but this guy looked like your typical redneck.

 

"What's in the box," he mumbled, his voice low and grainy.

 

"Our dead dog," I replied.

 

He gave us a funny look.

Although I couldn't feel too offended, after all Chris was on my lap with our dead dog in the cardboard box in front of us, hitching a ride from a stranger to a place we don't yet know of.

 

We were kind of deserved the look if I'm being honest.

 

"Alrighty then, where to?"

 

"The countryside," I replied.

Again, I received a funny look.

 

Clearing his throat and widening his eyes slightly at the dashboard, he mumbled, "Alright then,"

 

"Where are you going?" I asked curiously.

 

"Pennsylvania," 

 

"That's a long drive," I replied, mainly to contribute small-talk.

 

"So you aren't completely thick then?"

 

I laughed, although part of me felt quite insulted as I subconsciously mumbled sassy insults in my head.

 

"So I'll kick you two off when we come within reach of some sort of countryside?" he mumbled questioningly.

 

"That sounds fine," I replied, Chris had yet to speak a word, leaning his head back against me, exhausted.

 

He wriggled around on top of my thighs, squirming until he got comfortable as I slipped my arms around his waist, resting my clasped hands on his lap.

 

The trucker put on the radio and eventually Chris fell asleep on top of me, the snow was coming down quite heavily by this stage.

 

I won't go into all of the boring details of our three hour journey.

 

We stopped once or twice to use the bathroom and to get fuel for the truck, the trucker- whose name I didn't dare to ask, also bought us some apple pastries from a store on the freeway.

 

Which was quite nice of him I thought.

 

We didn't talk, which I was thankful for, the silence, the humming of the radio and the whirring of the huge tyres was enough for me.

 

Chris slept most of the time and I stared out at the blurred surroundings, my thighs toasty warm thanks to Chris.

 

I usually would have been wary of the truck driver, he could have been a mad serial killer for all we knew.

But I was too exhausted to be my usual pessimist self.

 

"So what is the deal with y'all?" he asked, switching gears and turning left.

 

"How do you mean?"

 

"You're a long way from home,"

 

I stared at him quizzically, until I realised he was talking about my accent.

 

"Oh right, we live in New York,"

 

"So what do ye do?" the trucker asked.

 

"We're homeless," I replied simply.

 

His eyes widened a little bit but they never strayed from the road.

 

"How's that working out for ye?"

 

I laughed slightly, something I tended to do when I felt subconsciously awkward, "Just fantastic," I replied with a hint of sarcasm.

 

I woke Chris when we were in sight of a small village, the huge stretches of snow-covered fields assured me we were in the countryside.

 

I had no idea where we were.

 

Or how we were going to get back.

 

But I couldn't worry about that for the moment, gently waking Chris.

 

"This do, fellas?" the trucker asked as he pulled up to a small side road.

 

I nodded and turned to him, "Thank you so much for this,"

 

He waved dismissively, "I had to pass through here anyway,"

 

So we bid our farewells, gathered our rucksacks, collected our makeshift coffin, and stumbled out into the nippy, strangely clean air, waving the trucker goodbye as he steamed away.

 

Chris turned to me with sleepy eyes, "Can you carry me?" he mumbled tiredly.

 

Although every muscle in my body ached from the shameless beating I had received earlier, I rolled my eyes, threw his rucksack over my shoulder and scooped him off the ground.

 

Somehow I managed to carry him as well as Biscuit and we trudged along the snow dusted cobble streets.

 

I laid him down on a wooden bench, carefully scanning my eyes over the surroundings.

 

Breathing in the clear air, my eyes lay over the tall, coniferous, snow-dusted treetops as the setting sun peaked between their needle-like leaves and drowned the perfect white snow with its orange glow.

 

Along the cobbled streets were rows of beautiful, deep mahogany and variations of oak, picturesque buildings.

Very small and quaintly roofed shops and houses were a much contrast to the city I was used to.

 

I half-expected a clip-clopping horse and carriage to pad by at any given moment.

 

And maidens with long flowing dressing to skip from the shops with baskets of fruit.

 

While birds twittered by and squirrels retorted to their trees.

 

It was like all my dreams had been rolled into one beautiful little village.

 

But nonetheless, I turned to Chris who was also staring wide-eyed with awe at the gorgeous area.

 

"Biscuit would have loved here," he whispered.

 

"Biscuit would have loved anywhere with food," I quipped.

 

Chris laughed and shook his head, before climbing to his feet and swinging a rucksack over his shoulder.

 

"Come on Jonny, we will bury him up on that hill,"

 

I nodded solemnly, grabbing the rucksack and the cardboard box slowly and following Chris.

 

 

 

[ColdplayPenguin]

Twisted Logic

 

Chapter 18

 

 

 

 

 

 

When we eventually reached the top of the hill, surrounded by empty stretches of fields with the village in the distance, I leant against the thick oak tree, exhausted and out of breath.

I wasn't used to this much exercise!

 

Chris knelt down in the snow, brushing the layers of snow away with his bare hands.

 

I won't go into all the details, but eventually we had a small hole in the ground to just about fit the box.

 

Chris opened the lid of the box for the last time, carefully laying Biscuit's paws into a comfortable postion, leaning down and kissing his nose.

 

"Sweet dreams sweetie," he whispered, I placed a hand on his shoulder as he closed over the box, brushing the soil back over the box and covering it thoroughly.

 

"Goodbye Biscuit," I said quietly as I tapped the soil in front, carefully moving the snow back into its position.

 

After a moment of staring blankly at the spot in the ground, Chris hopped to his feet and sourced out some stones and wild flowers, he marked out the small area in the ground with stones and laid the flowers on the top, climbing to his feet and joining me under the shade of the tree.

 

Curling up beside me as the sun slowly sank in the sky, Chris and I were submerged in a reverent silence.

 

"Thank you for doing this," Chris told me as we stared out into the distance.

 

"Don't be silly, this was important, we both loved Biscuit and he deserves this," I replied softly,

 

"Biscuit really adored you, you know? Even from that second he found you on the couch,"

 

I laughed, "I remember waking up to his tongue running down my face,"

 

Chris giggled, then as his laughter faded, his expression grew sad.

 

"He didn't have life he deserved," he said quietly.

 

I turned to face him, looking into his large cerulean eyes, "What do you mean?"

 

Chris looked down, playing with a thread on his frayed trousers, "He loved running, but he was stuck inside a city, with me. It wasn't ideal,"

 

"Hey," I grabbed his arm, "That was the happiest dog in the whole world, and don't you forget it," I widened my eyes to express my point, "He had you, and that is more than enough, I assure you,"

 

Chris smiled sadly, "Are you only saying that to make me feel better?"

 

I shook my head with a slight smile, "No you goofball, I mean it,"

 

Chris wrapped an arm around me, leaning his head against my shoulder, "I am so thankful for you Jonny,"

 

I leant my ear against his soft mop of hair, "I am rather fond of you too Chris," I said with a chuckle.

 

And as the cold breeze slowly blew over our shivering bodies, the sun set behind the distant fields, the sky streaked with orange and the beginnings of the nighttime atmosphere approaching fast, I felt Chris fall asleep against me, both his arms wrapped around me as I wrapped my own arms around him.

 

It had been one hell of a day.

But we still had each other.

And we always would.

 

When the sky had begun to darken, I slipped my arms away from Chris and leant his back against the tree trunk, covering his small frame with a blanket before sloping off the small distance to Biscuit's grave.

 

I knelt down beside it, curling my legs up as I clasped my hands together on my lap.

 

"I know you would have wanted me to look out for Chris," I said quietly, my voice sounded strange in contrast to the dark silence. Silence wasn't something I was used to spending so much time in a city. "But I think it is really him who looks out for me, we look out for each other,"

 

I took a deep breath, "I will really miss you, you know? It seems silly, you probably can't understand me, but I can't speak dog-language so you will have to get someone up there in the clouds to translate, but I just want to let you know how much I did care about you, and we are going to miss you so much, you were such an impact in our lives, and now you aren't going to be here anymore, lying beside me or nuzzling into my neck when I'm feeling shit, and I don't know how to deal with that, but I guess that is just what happens, eh? It doesn't mean anything that you're a dog. You were probably wiser than us all put together, you were my little Yoda. So rest peacefully okay? And be good up there in the clouds, don't go chewing up the cloud sofa cushions or anything, alright?" I laughed shakily, "-Look out for me and Chris, could you?"

 

I smiled wistfully, "I know you will,"

I surprised myself by feeling tears drip down my face, "This is your's and Chris' doing," I chuckled softly, wiping away the tears, "I never cried before I met you two,"

 

Laying my fingertips against the cold snow above his body, "Sleep well, buddy," I whispered softly, and just like that, my words were carried away with the Winter breeze as I trudged back to Chris.

 

Slowly curling up beside him, sneaking away some of the blankets for myself, I stared up at the black sky.

 

A strange sight in contrast to the New York City skyline I was used to.

 

So pure.

So clear.

So perfect and enigmatic.

 

I caught a glimmer of a beautiful, twinkling star in the sky.

 

Gently shaking Chris awake, he looked around dazedly, before I silently pointed up to the sparkling star in the distance, he smiled widely, his eyes brighter than every star in the galaxy put together, and he simply kissed my cheek and nuzzled back into my neck.

Falling asleep to the sounds of the wind and nature.

 

I was absoultely freezing, but I snuggled into the blanket and closed my eyes tightly, leaning my head against Chris' as we both feel asleep in complete and utter serenity.

 

The next morning we tucked into our breakfast from the rucksack, I was almost surprised we hadn't both hadn't gotten hypothermia or something during the night.

 

But as Chris said his last goodbyes to the third member of our wondrous, dysfunctional family, we set off on the road again, just the two of us.

 

I slipped my hand into Chris' as we reached the thick cobble streets, my high-tops well and truly buried with snow.

 

Life wasn't going to be the same anymore without Biscuit.

 

But as I told Chris, he would never truly be gone, not from our hearts.

 

After many, many attempts, Chris and I hitched a ride in the back of a van carrying crates of fruit and hand-crafted ornaments into the city, so jammed between a crate of intoxicating strawberries and a rather ugly looking array of vases, Chris and I squashed together, hands interlinked as we set off the bumpy ride to the cruel, harsh, and wondrous place we called home.

 

 

 

[ColdplayPenguin]

Twisted Logic

 

Chapter 19

 

 

 

 

 

The next few days continued shakily, we were levelling between staying down and giving up or fighting back and moving onwards.

 

I can't say there wasn't times I wanted to storm into that building and ruin Mr Champion's face.

This was all his doing.

 

Every last pick of it.

 

And I refused to believe otherwise.

 

I couldn't say I wasn't still bitter and still seeking a vicious vengeance upon the man, and as much as I tried to repress his face from my memory, it was still there, gnawing away at my brain cells like a piranha at some human flesh.

 

Several times the grief got to Chris, and several times he broke down, but he still bounced back.

 

I knew it was difficult for him, but he's a fighter, and I right beside him with a metaphorical trampoline for those testing moments.

Like he was right beside me with a metaphorical trampoline as well.

 

It was a two-way thing.

 

We were struggling. Stealing, rummaging in bins, and street-begging was a common occurrence.

 

I had slightly given up on humanity, so I didn't feel as guilty stealing anymore.

But I still knew it was wrong, but more to the point, I didn't want Chris to be caught.

 

But he was quick and efficient and never usually got caught.

Plus he could run pretty damn fast.

 

With only a week until Christmas, it was surprising to find that people were more generous.

 

Chris and I had built up a sweet little sum of ten dollars and sixty-three cents, which went towards food and candles.

 

I had half forgotten what a TV looked like, and the cinema and a bed seemed like a foreign concept.

 

Nighttimes were strange without Biscuit, the blanket felt more empty and cold, so I found myself latching onto Chris, although I was never unwelcome in his lovely, skinny arms.

 

Lying in the array of cushions and blankets, two candles burning lazily on either side of us, Chris and I laid back and talked.

 

"I never used to sleep," Chris was telling me, "Before you moved in, I had terrible insomnia, I would sit to all hours of the morning, my mind whirring with thoughts that I had no one to tell,"

 

I smiled softly, "Did you try sleeping pills?"

 

"Yeah," Chris admitted, "But I hated feeling so dependant on them so I chucked them out," then after a moment's thought, he added, "Plus Biscuit found a couple and knocked himself out,"

 

I laughed at that, "Well it's just a good thing my boring presence puts you right to sleep, eh?"

 

Chris laughed, swatting my arm, "You aren't boring, I mean, like, I feel a lot safer with you here,"

 

I smiled, tracing his eyes with my gaze, "I feel a lot safer with you too," 

 

And I felt it.

 

Because despite everything, I was happier now than I was this time last year.

 

Eventually after an hour or so of chatting, we both fell asleep and I awoke the next morning to a bony elbow in my ribs.

 

Dragging my eyes open as my mind faded from the dream I was having, I was immediately presented by the glistening blue, plate-size eyes of Chris as he smiled widely.

 

"What is it?" I mumbled sleepily.

 

Chris only grinned wider, his mischievous eyes telling me that he wasn't saying something that he was so dying to say.

 

Which made me immediately more alert.

 

"What are you up to?" I narrowed my eyes suspiciously.

 

Chris looked as though he could explode at any moment, before he suddenly blurted out, "Look what I found!!" he chirped, thrusting a crisp ten dollar bill into my face and waving in back and forth.

 

Staring at the vast amount of money with wide eyes, I asked him, "How in God's name did you get that?"

 

 Chris' eyes twinkled widely as he smiled wider, "I found it around the side of the building when I was filling the bath,"

 

"You're joking?!" I said in disbelief.

 

Chris shook his head wildly, his long golden mass of curls dancing with the movement, "Can you believe that?!"

 

I shook my head, sitting up against the cushions as I couldn't quite grasp the little glimmer of good luck we had received.

 

There was a time when ten dollars would mean nothing to me, maybe not nothing, but I certainly wouldn't have felt as privileged as I did now if I were to find one.

 

"What will be spend it on?" I said with a slight smile, the prospect of eating something that wasn't initially thrown away sounded like heaven.

 

"This will be saved until Christmas," Chris said like it were obvious.

 

I stared at him blankly, "What,"

 

"We aren't spending this yet," he told me.

 

"Oh come on," I whined halfheartedly, I had just started to get my hopes up for a lovely cup of hot chocolate or something of the sort.

 

"It is six days to Christmas and I want the first Christmas you spend with me to be the very best Christmas of your life," Chris spoke with a flourish, and with that he hopped to his feet.

 

"Now hurry up and eat and dress, because you and I are going tree-hunting,"

 

 

 

[ColdplayPenguin]

Twisted Logic

 

Chapter 20

 

 

 

 

 

Tree hunting with Chris was most certainly a joy.

 

Christmas tree hunting to be precise.

 

Chris was certain we had to have the best Christmas tree in the whole of New York.

 

I didn't really want to point out that Times Square had a pretty badass tree with about a million strings of rainbow lights and baubles the size of tractor tyres.

 

So the likelihood of me and Chris' tree, in an empty room in an abandoned building, -that is on the verge of collapsing, could be in any way better than that big old tree, was quite slim.

 

But nonetheless, I wrapped up in my scarf and jacket, which if I must say, needed a wash badly in a proper washing machine.

 

Even my sacred high-tops were on their last legs.

 

-Ironic really.

 

Heading off into a blizzard practically, I followed Chris blindly, not particularly sure where he was actually taking me.

But I followed anyway.

 

"Chris where are we supposed to get a Christmas tree in the middle of the city?" I asked Chris as I dodged the frequent flow of Christmas shoppers.

 

Wasn't Christmas supposed to be a peaceful time?

 

Why was I almost getting trampled to death by billions of people armed with rolls of wrapping paper that in my eyes looked like clear weapons to poke someone's eye out, as I carefully dodged one particularly furious looking man.

 

"Central Park of course!" Chris said with a wide sparkly grin.

 

I scoffed, "You are kidding," I said with a laugh.

 

Chris turned to me with a serious expression, "I am most certainly not,"

 

"So what- we are going to steal a tree from Central Park?"

 

"That's the plan," Chris said brushing some snow off his long coat.

 

I chuckled, "I think that would get us arrested,"

 

As Chris spun around to me with glistening eyes, he mumbled, "Not if we run very quickly,"

 

I shook my head in disbelief.

 

How would we even get it cut down!?

 

But my teeth were chattering too hard to bother to argue, and the very thought of going to Central Park sounded wonderful.

 

Chris linked his arm into mine as we walked quickly across the zebra crossing, the radios in the distance blaring Jingle Bells, and bright, flashing red and green Christmas decorations lit up the streets with their ever-existent neon glows.

 

 

Sifting through the snow dusted streets, we arrived at the icy wonderland that Central Park had been transformed into.

 

The tall street lamps were alight with their homely yellow glows, even though it wasn't yet completely dark, but the thick layers of Winter overcast changed that.

 

Staring around at the vast space, filled and filled with many arrays of people, some chucking snowballs and giggling while others were snapping photos and posing for selfies.

 

For once today, the clouds had stopped chucking every ounce of frozen precipitation they had at us and instead blew cold breezes with light sprinklings of snow as we strolled over the stone bridge and across towards a bench.

 

Some of the bare, brownish-grey trees had rainbow lights strung around their branches and were now flashing enthusiastically to the sound of Christmas spirits.

 

The loud hustle and bustle of city life wa muffled since the time I'd spent with Chris. Almost like he had turned it down slightly and I was more focused on what he was saying rather than the screeching across the road of taxis and constant chattering of people.

 

It was almost as though he had the power to obscure every sound and object with his voice.

 

The voice that carried a distinct Devonian accent, hinted with an upper-class teaching and a slight American twang.

 

And a singing voice that could overshadow perfection itself.

 

"That one," that said voice pulled me from my thoughts as Chris pointed towards a large tree a fair distance away from our spot on the bench.

 

I laughed, "You can dream,"

 

"No one would even notice one little tree going missing,"

 

"It's about one hundred feet tall, I think someone will notice two guys, discreetly slipping away with a tree that big. Besides, we wouldn't be able to carry it," I reasoned.

 

Chris sighed deeply, folding his arms across his chest, "Well this sucks then,"

 

"Why is that?" I asked him.

 

"I just wanted to give you the best Christmas ever and now I don't even have a damn tree," he looked genuinely distressed as he frowned at the large trees mocking us in the distance.

 

"Hey," I caught his arm, catching his eye contact as I spoke softly, "This is going to be the best Christmas anyway, because every day is still better than last year now that I've met you. Even if we are freezing and homeless,"

 

Chris smiled softly, the sadness in his eyes giving way to their characteristic twinkle, "I have never had someone to share the holidays with," he told me, "Apart from Biscuit, well, Christmas was just as lonely as every other day of the year, so I know that as long as you're there, it will be just wonderful,"

 

I smiled at him slowly, a deep sense of serenity swept over me for a moment, submerging any doubts and the chills running throughout my body for just a few mere seconds, as I understood just what true happiness was all about.

Before slapping him on the knee and saying, "Now how about we rustle up ourselves a Christmas tree and show Times Square who's boss,"

 

It might have been a crappy, three-foot high, anti-leaves tree we had snapped from between the ditch through a couple of backroads, but standing beside our blankets and messy array of cushions and loose papers, shoved within a plastic plant pot, it was the best tree in the whole of New York City.

 

The critics of 'the best-tree-in-the-whole-of-New York City'  council might not agree, but they're definitely wrong.

 

Strung with the best set of rainbow lights the market stalls had to offer, it sat glowing many colours in the now dark room as a few candles were lit in the corner.

 

Chris smiled at me proudly, "It's certainly a beauty,"

 

"It was worth the hassle," I agreed, looking at my hands that were scratched and cut from the tree bark we had been pulling at earlier.

 

Sitting crossed-legged on the blankets, I poured us both a glass of milk and we sipped quietly.

 

"I could have never got a Christmas tree with Biscuit around," Chris mused wistfully, "He would have chewed the lights right off,"

 

I laughed, "That is a common trait in dogs, I guess,"

 

Chris laughed, "True," he nodded his agreement.

 

Setting his now empty milk glass to the side, Chris turned to me with a mischievous glint in his candle-lit eyes, "We better get some shut eye," he grinned, "We've got a busy day ahead of us,"

 

And a busy day it turned out to be.

 

Because roughly twenty-four hours later, our small area of squat, had been transformed into a makeshift paradise of the North Pole.

 

I'm probably exaggerating because it has been so long since I have been used to so much extravagant things but, the room was a mass of candy canes and sugary treats.

 

Cinnamon sticks were burning in a jar and red and green foil streamers were draped around the walls.

 

Apparently that mysterious ten dollars had been put to good use.

 

But by Christmas Eve morning, Chris was brimming over the edge with a wondrous childlike excitement.

 

Being awoke at the crack of dawn wouldn't have been accepted at any other day of the year, but since it was such a special occasion for him, I scraped myself out of bed.

 

Well- floor to be precise.

 

I haven't slept in a bed in god-knows how long.

 

Dragging me through the thick crowds of people -after eating breakfast, of course- I found myself in the middle of central park as Chris put his hands on slim hips and stared at me with an expectant expression.

 

Before it morphed into a wide, cheesy grin, "Let's make a snowman!" he giggled, before collecting a huge clump of snow and chucking in straight at my face.

 

Well if I wasn't completely woken up by then, a huge chunk of freezing precipitation in my face, dripping down my chest, certainly did the honours.

 

"You cheeky bastard," I said with a hint of humour as I scraped the snow from my face as a car would with its windscreen wipers.

 

Chris laughed loudly and sprinted away from me as I chased him with a large snowball.

 

Sneaking up on his curled up figure beside a bench, I greeted his surprised face with a huge lump of snow as he squealed loudly making me erupt in laughter, as we received strange glances from every angle.

 

"Oh god," I laughed breathlessly as I flopped down on the snow beside him, "What lunatics we are,"

 

"The mind never truly ages," Chris giggled with that wise air of his, I turned to look at him, clasping my hands behind my head as I gazed over his wide eyes.

 

"How do you mean?" I asked.

 

Chris grinned widely, displaying the small, sideways gap between his two front teeth, "Well, we can learn more and think differently, but we never really change,"

 

I smiled thoughtfully, and at that very moment, I knew for certain, that Chris Martin was the smartest person I had ever met.

 

But some could argue that I knew very little people, and that was true.

 

But even if I knew Albert Einstein himself, I was one-hundred percent certain that he would be in no comparison in my mind.

 

Instead of telling Chris all of this, that he was the most wonderful person I had ever had the pleasure of meeting, that he had finally made me feel more complete, that he had brightened my mind and soul from the moment we met, I simply smiled.

 

Chris was probably curious as to why I was so quiet, although I am usually quite quiet, which is fine with a chatterbox like Chris.

 

I had always been more of a listener anyway. But even at that, I decided now was a good time to open my mouth.

 

"I think that's a wise theory,"

 

Chris laughed, "Not really,"

 

And in my opinion, behind those innocently alert blue eyes, almost never dimming enthusiasm, the brilliant, yet surprisingly timid firecracker of a human being, laid an undeniable wisdom, not perhaps the wisdom in the sense that he could list off mathematic equations at the speed of light, or quote great scriptures in various languages, but wisdom in the sense of basic morality and kindness, that some may confuse with a sheet of false naiveness.

 

But I could see through it all.

 

And I knew he was the smartest person on Earth.

 

I could never tell him all of this, of course.

 

That would just embarrass me.

 

"Are you just going to lay here and look at the clouds all day," he teased, hopping to his feet, "-Or are you going to get off your ass and build me a snowman," before skipping off into the distance, curls flying and scarf waving as his laughter danced in the air.

 

 

An hour later, a rather fat snowman stood before us with its creepy, pebble-based grin as we bickered over a name for it.

 

"Frosty is just a stupid name for a snowman Jonny, don't be silly," Chris scoffed.

 

"Are you kidding me?" I exclaimed, "There was movies and books and even a motherfucking song about Frosty the Snowman!"

 

Chris shook his head, laughing, "Our snowman shall be named Jeff,"

 

"Jeff!?"

 

"Jeff is a good snowman name," Chris huffed.

 

"How about Sparkles?"

 

"Sparkles!?" Chris spluttered, "What kind of name is that?"

 

"It's better than Jeff," I muttered under my breath.

 

"I was thinking more on the lines of Douglas," Chris folded his arms pointedly.

 

"What makes you so certain this is a male snowman," I objected.

 

Chris grinned and rolled his large eyes, "Well we didn't make a snowlady, silly,"

 

"I...suppose," I frowned at our rather non-gendered snow creature.

 

"I know!!" Chris squealed, hopping around on the spot a little as his eyes lit up, if that was even more possible, "How about..." he waved his hands mystically for a moment, before breathing, "-Leonardo,"

 

"After..."

 

"After the great Leonardo DiCaprio himself," Chris finished himself with a smug flourish.

 

"What is it with your obsession with Leonardo DiCaprio?" I asked with a laugh.

 

"I am not obsessed!" Chris argued, "If I wanted to name our snowman after one of my obsessions, I would have named him Bono,"

 

"That is true," I nodded my agreement with feigned solemnity.

 

"-Or Beyoncè," I added flippantly.

 

But alas we left Frosty, Jeff, Sparkles, Douglas, Leonardo/Bono/Beyoncè the snowman, in its comfortable position in the snowy grass banks of Central Park, to prey on the innocent passer-bys with his creepy smile, and we headed off to our next destination.

 

Which was the biggest shopping centre in the whole of New York.

 

Or 'mall'  as Chris would say.

 

Inside the large space was jammed packed with busy shoppers, bright, dazzling Christmas decorations and blaring holiday tunes.

 

All in all, it extremely commercial and over powering.

 

But then again, this isn't a tale of the true meaning of Christmas spirit or anything of the sorts, but it just all felt a bit much for me, mostly saying as Chris and I could barely afford to eat, yet here was at least a thousand dollars spent on twinkly lights.

 

But that isn't important right now.

 

As Chris had spotted a certain holiday workshop in the distance, gingerbread cut outs and candy canes hung over the rim of the fake-snow dusted cabin and away he shot through the crowds of people.

 

Chuckling to myself, I followed and we stopped outside the quaint little store and looked at the mechanically operated reindeers.

 

"Oooo! Look at their cute little faces," Chris cooed at one of them.

 

"Have you been nice this year?" I teased as I pointed backwards with my thumb towards a jolly, red-suited man with a white beard approaching the doors.

 

Chris giggled, "Oh yes,"

 

As the cuddly man passed through the little door, I heard a distinct muttering of his telephone call and a gruff voice mumble, "I'm get real tired of this shit Marty," as the door slammed shut.

 

Not exactly the friendly little old man Santa Claus was portrayed to be.

 

The food court was giving out free samples of cinnamon cupcakes and cherry flavoured cocoa, so we basically raided that, before skipping off to other stores, messing about with fake antlers and red Santa hats, and by sunset my sides were aching from laughing so hard.

 

"We should go carolling," Chris laughed as we strolled down the brightly lit and snowy streets of New York on Christmas Eve.

 

"Carolling!?" I scoffed, I would sooner give Mr Champion a friendly hug than go carolling.

 

And that was saying something.

 

"Oh come on, Jonny, it will be deadly fun!"

 

"For you," I laughed, "You can sing,"

 

"Everyone can sing," he objected, poking me in the arm, "You just have to-"

 

"-Are you about to burst into a Christmas sprit speech?" I laughed incredulously.

 

Chris stuck out his tongue in return, "Maybe," he mumbled, linking my arm as we headed to nowhere in particular.

 

"-Let's go ice-skating!?" he squealed.

 

"-I would rather all my limbs safely in tact, thank you very much," I quipped with a laugh.

 

Thinking for a moment, Chris' eyes suddenly gleamed as a metaphorical light bulb lit above his curly head, "Lets go to Top Of The Rock Observation Deck," 

 

I hated to be the bubble burster, but, "We couldn't really afford it," I said with a slight sigh.

 

But that didn't extinguish the mischievous twinkles scuttling around his irises as he laughed, "Let me rephrase that, -Let's sneak onto The Top Of The Rock Observation Deck,"

 

 

 

[ColdplayPenguin]

Twisted Logic

 

Chapter 21

 

 

 

 

 

"Are you joking?!" I laughed, shooting him a strange glance.

 

Shaking his head in feigned solemnity Chris replied, "Why would I joke about such things?"

 

I shrugged, laughing, and decided to just roll with it, following him down the many blocks although I knew there was no hope in hell of us getting in for free.

But hey, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt

 

The chemicals in the air and from the many vehicles mixed with the beautiful white snow around the edges of the busy road, making sloshy grey clumps that sunk into my shoes as we reached the building.

 

Giggling manically, Chris whispered into my ear, "Let me handle this," stepping towards the toll man complete with the whole tuxedo and all, clearing his throat quite poshly, Chris stepped forward and leant against the booth, "You see me and him," he indicated between the both of us to the extremely bored looking attendant, "Your boss has sent us here as a Christmas present as we are good friends,"

 

I stifled a laugh as Chris raised his eyebrows expectantly, "Now may we go  in," Chris drummed his fingers as he penetrated the man with his dazzling blue eyes.

 

But perhaps the man wasn't as easily dazzled as assumed, or perhaps he actually had a brain.

 

"I don't have time for this," he growled as a queue began to form behind Chris for the ticket booth as I stayed to one side observing with a grin.

 

"I swear," Chris sassed, "I could get you fired in two seconds-"

 

"I am calling security in a minute," he snapped.

 

I could barely hear the large argument progressing through my own laughter as I sifted through the crowd and caught Chris by the arm.

 

"Cover's blown buddy," I laughed as we shimmied through the queue.

Although 'shimmy' is a terrible verb to use saying as we practically stumbled over about twenty angry queue-waiters.

 

But reaching the other side, we returned to our previous state of walking, simply enjoying each others presence on the magical evening.

 

Despite Chris' best efforts, there was simply very little we could do with no money whatsoever.

But that was perfectly fine with me as I told him many times, usually to receive the same response.

 

"No, no, no!" he would protest, "I want you to have the best Christmas imaginable,"

 

I chuckled, "I am, you lunatic,"

 

So we proceeded onwards and eventually arrived back in our dark and freezing, rundown room in an abandoned building.

 

Fiddling around for the candles and matches, swiftly I lit a couple of candles and turned on the battery powered Christmas tree lights, and suddenly our room was transformed into a beautiful Christmas paradise.

 

Unhooking a candy cane from the tree and sucking on it, I flopped down on the blankets as Chris curled his legs up on the cushions beside me.

 

"Christmas is such a strange time in New York," I pondered, swirling the sugary treat around my mouth as Chris nibbled on a cookie.

 

"How do you mean?" he asked.

 

"All the lights and presents and all," I replied, "I mean, -what's all that got to do with Jesus?"

 

Chris rolled his eyes, "Didn't you learn the nativity story?" he teased.

 

"Of course, my grandma used to tell me it every Christmas Eve," I grinned smugly.

 

Thinking about it now, It was Christmas Eve.

 

And my grandma wasn't here to tell me it.

 

Which send a pang of sadness through me as I tried my best to block it out.

 

"Well," Chris folded his arms, "I suppose it is because the three wise men brought gifts to Jesus, so I guess that is why gifts are given,"

 

"But why such the extravagance, all the lights and trees and stuff," I had never really been very big on Christmas.

 

Although I certainly believed there was a force greater than my own, I just felt that it was all very commercial for a religious holiday.

 

Chris laughed, "That is just life, I suppose,"

 

"I honestly don't understand life most of the time," I told him, Chris tossed a cookie into my lap with a chuckle, "Who does?"

 

Eating our array of sugary foods, I laid back on the soft cushions, resting my hands behind my head as I stared up at Chris' candlelit face.

 

"Hey Chris-" I said, a slow smile working its way onto my face.

 

"Yeah?" he rested his chin on his palm as he met my gaze.

 

"Saying as you're such a smartass," I said with a laugh, "Why don't you tell me the nativity story?" closing my eyes and grinning, I heard him chuckle.

 

"Okay then," he agreed happily.

 

I opened one eye, "-And I've heard this story every year for twelve years so I'll know if you're telling it wrong," I laughed closing the other eye and nuzzled into the pillow as his sweet voice began the story.

 

Listening to soft tone to his voice with a permanent smile on my face, I knew that I was one of the luckiest people in the entire world.

 

Because I felt complete.

 

Because despite everything, I had my wonderful companion, my amigo, my other half, whatever.

 

It made me think that maybe all of this had happened for a reason.

 

Maybe me getting thrown out, both of us losing out jobs, losing our flat, maybe it was all for a reason.

 

But whatever reason it was, whatever the stars had planned, I was happy.

Simple as.

 

The loud bells chimed for Christmas Eve filling our peacefully quiet room with the Ding-Dongs informing us it was indeed, midnight.

 

Christmas Day.

 

Chris turned to me with a huge smile as I opened my eyes.

 

When the bells were silent, they were quickly replaced by drunken laughter and squeals of outside.

 

Chris scooted closer beside me, I vaguely wondered if he could possibly explode with excitement.

 

"Merry Christmas Jonny!" he beamed brightly, the almost squeals tucked in tightly with every word.

 

I laughed heartily, "Merry Christmas Chris," I chuckled with a grin.

 

"I think this calls for a little celebratory drink, what do you say?" he said, eyes glistening in the low lighting.

 

"Whatever do you have in mind?" I teased.

 

Slipping out a carton of chocolate milkshake with a sly grin, I laughed at his slightly manic expression.

 

"Sounds good to me," I laughed before fetching two glasses.

 

"Here's to us," Chris raised his glass for a toast, I shook my head laughing, before clinking my glass against his.

 

 

 

[ColdplayPenguin]

Twisted Logic

 

Chapter 22

 

 

 

 

Christmas Day with Chris was probably one of the best days of my life.

 

Barely sleeping that night, we were practically bubbling over with excitement.

 

Early that morning, I was in for a little surprise as Chris planted a small, wrapped object into my lap.

 

Of course I wasn't expecting anything, and I wasn't certainly expecting much, but when I opened it I was in for a wonderful treat as my eyes were set upon a cute little snow globe with a small snowman inside.

 

"Go ahead," Chris' large eyes egged me on, "Give it a shake,"

 

I laughed, holding the little glass object in my palm and shaking it slightly.

I was extra careful.

 

After all, I'm quite clumsy, and it would be just my luck to drop it.

 

But the small white balls floated around with the sparkly silver glitter and rained on top of the snowman.

 

"His name is Frosty," Chris grinned.

 

I looked up at him as he watched from over my shoulder.

Immediately wrapping my arms around his neck and enveloping him in a hug, I said, "This is the best present anyone has ever given me,"

 

"Really?" Chris asked incredulously.

 

"Of course, it is from you after all," 

 

Chris rolled his eyes but grinned nonetheless, "Christmas makes us all sappy,"

 

I laughed, "I can fully agree with you on that,"

 

Barrel-rolling across the room and reaching into my rucksack, I pulled out my gift for Chris.

Which I actually managed to get without him noticing!

 

They were selling them on the market stall and as soon as I laid eyes on it, I knew I had to get it.

 

"Here you are Christopher," I purred, "Your Christmas present,"

 

"Oh you shouldn't have-" Chris exclaimed as he pulled off the thin tissue paper.

 

I immediately laughed as his eyes suddenly widened and his jaw dropped.

 

"Remember back ages ago when we first met and you bought me dinner at that diner, and I told you that when I got paid I would buy you anything,"

 

A smile creeped onto my face, "-And you replied 'On that note, I want a Ferrari,' -Well," I said as I carefully watched Chris' stunned face, "It isn't quite the Ferrari you had in mind, but I hope it will do for now,"

 

Chris finally looked up from the plastic toy car, -which was in the model of a Ferrari sports car, in case you didn't twig that on, and his features crumpled up slightly.

 

"That is the most thoughtfullest thing anyone has ever done for me," he croaked.

 

I scooted to his side, slipping an arm around his shoulders instinctively, "I swear, you better not cry on me," I joked, "You're like a pregnant woman at times," I hugged him tightly.

 

Sniffling slightly, he managed to hold back the impending tears, "I just can't believe you would remember something like that," he snivelled.

 

I laughed despite myself, rubbing a hand up and down his arm, "Of course I would remember you goofball, I remember most things you say,"

 

"-I remember how your favourite season is Autumn, because it doesn't jump out at you like all the other seasons do, I remember that your favourite colour is turquoise and that you used to have a massive man-crush on Gary Barlow," I reminisced with a soft smile, "You are the most exciting and interesting person I have ever met, so of course I am going to remember what you say,"

 

He hugged me tighter, burying his face into my neck to perhaps hide his tears of emotion, when suddenly he randomly croaked, "Winter,"

 

"What?"

 

"Winter," he repeated, pulling away from me and looking up at my eyes, "Winter is your favourite season, because you love how the snow feels,"

 

I slipped my hand into his, "Well it isn't so well and dandy now," I quipped, "I'm praying for Summer inside the icebox,"

 

He laughed and planted a kiss on my cheek.

 

"I'm off get our Christmas dinner," he chuckled and skipped off towards the rucksacks.

 

 

Dinner was indeed the best meal we have had in a long time, toasty and warm from a 24/7 diner, it was worth the money.

 

As well as dinner, we certainly pushed the bought out and bought hot chocolate and marshmallows, lazily walking around the brightly-lit streets, sipping our drinks as we simply took in the views.

 

Aside from the occasional snowball fight, which just for the record, -I won, our day was pretty simple. Nothing extravagant or over the top. 

Just two best friends spending time together on the special holiday.

 

We laid around in the haphazardly laid blankets and cushions with only the candlelight and the twinkly Christmas tree lights and we talked.

And Chris sang the odd tune.

And I sketched the odd drawing.

And we laughed.

And we cried from laughing.

And we simply had a good time.

 

I couldn't have had it better if I was the freaking Queen!

 

But that brings me up to three days after Christmas.

 

The sweets and cookies had been eaten and it was roughly 3am at night.

 

The candles had been blew out for the night and Chris was sleeping peacefully a couple of inches away from me.

 

I rubbed my eyes and sat up as I grumpily pondered about why I had been woken up.

 

I wasn't having a nice dream or anything, but I was tired from the day before and I could do with the couple of hours rest.

 

As my vision cleared, I yawned and glanced over the darkened room, as my eyes set on the window across the room, alit slightly from the city glow, my heart suddenly lurched as the outline of a human being stood dark in the view of what should have been light.

 

Choked cries slipped out of my mouth as my eyes flew open, barely able to control my body, I quickly shook Chris' shoulder as hard as I could, never once taking my eyes off the figure.

 

"Chris, Chris!" I hissed desperately as he mumbled in his sleep, smiling and slapping my hand away.

 

Grabbing him by both of his shoulders, I shook him hard, my whole body practically trembling.

 

He woke up, yawning and blinking slowly, "Mmm," he mumbled.

 

"Chris," I pleaded as I chewed on my lip, "What's wrong," he asked as he studied my face, his voice tinged with sleep.

 

"There's someone at the window," I whispered in a terrified voice as I shakily pointed towards said window.

And just like that, the figure was gone.

 

Chris stared at it for a moment, before turning to me and saying, "There's no one there," he spoke softly.

 

"There...there was!" I stuttered, "I-I saw it!"

 

Chris the ever open-minded person he was, didn't think I was crazy or tell me I was imagining things.

He twisted his mouth slightly and frowned at the window.

 

"Well whoever it is, is gone now," he told me softly, "So don't worry about it,"

 

"What if they come back?" I whispered, petrified at the thought of having someone come into the whole shelter we had and potentially hurting us.

 

"They're gone now," he soothed, pulling me towards him and forcing my eyes away from the window as he slipped his arms around me, "It's okay, it's going to be okay, you go back to sleep and I'll keep a look out,"

 

I pressed my face into his chest as I pulled the blankets up to my chin.

 

Whoever this person was, or whatever they wanted, I was wary.

 

And despite Chris' reassurances, I knew for a fact I wasn't going to be falling asleep anytime soon.

 

 

 

 

[ColdplayPenguin]

Swallowed in the Sea

 

A little short story for you guys, :D

 

 

 

 

Will scanned his eyes over the vast golden beach from his position up on the lifeguard tower, the temperatures were soaring and breaking records and right now, all he wanted was to go home to his wonderfully air-conditioned house near the beach.

 

Carefully he wiped the consistent drip of sweat from his brow, he took a sip from his almost warming bottle of water and sighed deeply.

 

Being a lifeguard wasn't the most interesting job in his opinion.

 

His day consisted of staring at the flocks of people splashing around in the sea and making sure no kids were up by the rocky cliffs.

 

Not exactly the stimulation he wanted each day.

 

But the thought of all the television series he had recorded at home was at least something to look forward to.

 

Everything seemed calm on the beach, so Will slipped out his mobile phone and checked his texts.

 

As he was typing up a reply to his sister, he suddenly heard a frantic yelling from below.

 

Quickly shoving his mobile into the pouch on the side of the tower, he glanced down.

 

"Help!" a tall blonde man was screaming, "My friend, h-he can't swim! -Help!!!"

 

Quick as a flash, Will shot down the narrow steps and ran towards the sea with the blonde man in tow.

 

"Where abouts is he?" Will asked calmly and professionally as he quickly scanned his eyes over the ocean, but before the other man could answer he spotted it.

 

Splashing and panicked sloshing in the water, and within milliseconds Will was in the water and rocketing towards the area.

 

Just as he was trained to do, he reached for the person in question and scooped the struggling body into his hold, resting the chest along the top of his shoulder, and supporting its back with his other arm.

 

Despite his many rescues, Will couldn't help but feel his heart hammer in his chest as he made his way to shore as quickly as he could.

 

Gently resting the body onto the hot, golden sand, he caught a glimpse at the rather handsome face, but the man himself was flickering between consciousness and unconsciousness.

 

A small crowd of people had gathered, screaming and frantic shouts were evident but Will had taught himself how to drown it all out and focus.

 

He quickly laid the man over this legs and thumped at his back in an upwards motion a couple of times, until he began to cough and splutter water onto the sand.

 

"That's it," Will said in a practised soothing tone, "There we go,"

 

But as he laid the man back out on the sand, a loud scream came from his left as the blonde man from before was in floods of tears.

 

"HE ISN'T BREATHING!" he screamed, "WHY ISN'T HE BREATHING!?"

 

Will quickly glanced down at the man and saw for himself, and he was indeed, not breathing.

 

Not forgetting his trained CPR skills despite the panic and nausea building up inside of him, he placed strategically placed his hand on top of the other and pumped three hard consistent pumps on his chest, before placing his knees on either side of his hips and he knelt down and blew hard into his mouth, holding the man's nose as he did so, and repeating three times.

 

Until a sudden gasping sound came from the dark-haired man and he began to cough.

 

At that moment, Will felt a huge wave of relief wash over him climbed onto the sand near his head, gently lifting his head up with a hand on the back of his neck as he rubbed the man's back as he coughed onto the sand.

 

"Take deep, slow breaths," Will told him softly, "It's okay," 

 

A sudden cheer erupted from the crowd and hard crying could be heard from the blonde haired man.

 

"Let's get you into the beach shack and check you over," Will said gently as he helped the trembling man to his feet, he  glanced up and indicated with his hand for the man he had just saved's friend to follow.

 

"Rick!" Will called to the other lifeguard nearby, "Take over my shift for a bit," he requested and the lifeguard complied.

 

Shoving open the flimsy door to the beach shack, he helped the man to lower himself onto the built-in bench and searched out a blanket to wrap around his shaking body.

 

"That's a nasty shock you've had today, eh?" Will said in a soft voice as felt around for the string to roll up the blinds.

 

And as the light flooded through the slots, Will caught a glimpse at the gorgeously striking brown of the man's eyes and the sleek jawline that was set off by a dark stubble.

 

 

But shoving that aside he proceeded to check the man over, thankfully he had no large gashes or wounds, a few bruises to his calves and his left hipbone but nothing life threatening.

 

The terribly shocked expression on his face was what worried Will the most, and the petrified shaking of every inch of his body.

 

"My name is Will," Will told him with a kind smile as he searched through the small first aid box for a stethoscope.

 

Pulling said object out and throwing it around his neck, Will gently placed his hands on the back of the man's neck and examined for any damage on his head. 

 

"Can you tell me your name," he asked gently as he knelt down to the dusty floor of the shack and placed the stethoscope against his pale chest.

 

"G-Guy," the voice managed to utter shakily.

 

"Could you take a big deep breath in for me Guy," Will said as he listened through the stethoscope.

 

Guy did as asked and managed to inhale deeply, and by the sound of it there was no fluid in the lungs or any out of the ordinary sounds.

 

Taking out the small light in his first aid box, Will shone a gentle light into his eye, "How did this happen, eh?"

 

"I-It was the waves," he croaked, "I got a little close,"

 

Despite the hoarse-ness of Guy's voice, Will could quite easily distinguish a Scottish ring to his accent.

 

"I would stay well away from the water in future," Will advised, "Or use floaties or something,"

 

"Oh don't worry about that," Guy squeaked, "I won't ever go near water for the rest of my life,"

 

Will laughed despite himself, "You could always learn how to swim," he suggested.

 

Guy shook his head rapidly, accepting the glass of water Will had held out in his hand and took a slow sip of it.

 

Before placing the glass onto the bench and looking up at Will with large eyes.

 

"Thank you so much," he said shakily, his bottom lip was trembling slightly and in Will's experience that was never a good sign.

 

"You saved my life,"

 

Will waved his hand dismissively, "I'm just glad you're okay, it was touch and go for a moment,"

 

Guy shook his head slowly, "I feel so stupid now, I should never have gone near the water,"

 

But before Will could reply, the door to the shack suddenly burst open and teary eyed blonde man approached.

 

"Oh my god," he cried, "You're okay!!"

 

He ran towards Guy and scooped him up into a huge hug, holding him tightly and lifting him a couple of inches off his feet.

 

"I thought I had lost you," he choked out, "I thought you were going to drown," 

 

Will stepped back and watched the heartwarming scene as the blonde man sobbed heavily as Guy got the life squeezed out of him via hugs.

 

"Don't you ever do that to me again you bastard," he croaked, "I will put a leash on you if I have to,"

 

Will smiled softly.

He was surprised at the peaceful feeling flooding his entire body.

 

He had never felt so relieved and rewarded before, and he had saved many people.

 

But the second the dark-haired brown-eyed man managed to choke in a breath, he could have sang, or danced, or did cartwheels across the entire beach.

 

And he had no idea why.

 

Kissing every inch of the grimacing Guy's face, the blonde man cuddled him one last time before placing him back down on the bench.

 

"Chriiis," he groaned slightly, wiping his blushing face in embarrassment.

 

Before the man named Chris spun around to Will and suddenly enveloped him in a hug also.

 

"Oh god, thank you so much," Chris gushed wildly, "If I can ever do anything for you, just say, I honestly can't thank you enough," Will patted his back, laughing slightly as he pulled away, "I am just doing my job,"

 

"You are a life-saver," Chris' large blue eyes opened wider and pointed frantically at Will.

 

Will shook his head, "I'm just doing my job," he said softly, before turning to Guy whom he had noticed had paled slightly.

 

Stepping forward and tilting his chin upwards, Will studied his face.

 

"Are you feeling alright?"

 

Guy shrugged slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by nausea.

 

Thinking for a moment, Will spoke, "I live in the town near the beach, if you come back to mine, I can get my friend over, he is a doctor," 

 

Guy shook his head, "I-I'm fine," he said quietly although it was slightly slurred.

 

Placing his palm against Guy's forehead, Will felt it to be a little warm, and he was still shivering.

 

"I really have to insist," 

 

"Yes, that would be great," Chris answered for him.

 

Will nodded, kneeling slightly on the bench, "You can get cleaned up there if you like,"

 

After a moment, Guy gave in and agreed.

 

Clicking open the doors to his car, Will stepped into the driver's side as Chris took the backseat along with Guy.

 

"It isn't too far away," Will said soothingly as he looked up at the rear view mirror at Guy.

 

The engine rumbled to life and they headed off onto the road to Will's home.

 

"I think I'm going to be sick," Guy whispered quietly to Chris, his face sickeningly pale.

 

"Can you put the windows down?" Chris asked Will over the radio, Will nodded and eyed Guy carefully from the mirrors as he pushed the button.

 

Air flooded his stuffy car and it seemed to help slightly, Chris clasped Guy's hand tightly and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, although Guy was usually quite rigid and would sooner punch him in the face rather than hold his hand, but after the day he'd had, he didn't protest.

 

"Any better?" Chris asked softly, ruffling his thick mop of dark hair fondly.

 

Guy shrugged weakly, "It won't be long," Chris told him as they passed the different coloured beach houses.

 

"So where are you two staying?" Will asked with a smile.

 

"A little motel," Chris explained, "We came down here for the summer as we've just graduated college,"

 

Will nodded in understanding.

 

Until another question arose in this mind.

 

Not sure whether it was an appropriate question, Will battled with his thoughts for a moment before speaking, "So are...are you two, erm...going out?"

 

Chris stared at him for a few seconds, before bursting out laughing.

-Laughing hysterically for a good five minutes, although Guy didn't find it so amusing, his pale complexion replaced with a deep blush as he snapped, "Of course not,"

 

Wiping the tears of laughter away from his eyes, Chris managed to calm his laughter.

Will couldn't help but notice he was slightly like both sides of the polar regions.

 

"No, no we aren't," he grinned widely at Guy with an amused expression as Guy glared out the window.

 

"Single Pringles," Chris giggled as he kissed Guy's burning cheek playfully.

 

Guy squirmed huffily in his seat and turned to face the window.

 

Will couldn't help but roll his eyes with a grin at their antics, for some reason he felt like these were people he could actually get along with.

 

And the mention of the brown-eyed man being single gave him a strange feeling of almost, relief?

Excitement?

 

'It's just been a difficult day,'  Will told himself, 'I just need to drink some water and watch some TV, that's why I'm thinking so strangely,'

 

But somewhere deep down he knew that wasn't quite it.

 

Pulling up to the side of Will's house, they all got out, Guy leaned up against the car as he breathed deeply.

His head felt light and the car journey didn't help much.

 

"Go on in and make yourself at home," Will said, "I'll call my friend, he lives nearby,"

 

Directing Guy to the bathroom and giving him an armful of spare clothes, saying as he was only wearing his swimming gear, Will opened up the fridge and took out some snacks as he heard the doorbell ring and footsteps enter.

 

"Oh hi," the green eyed man suddenly said as he almost walked into Chris who was about to get the door.

 

"H-Hi," Chris stuttered, as the most talkative person in the world found himself lost for words as he was captivated my the glistening emeralds in the doctor's eyes.

 

"You're looking wonderfully perky for having almost drowned," he laughed, placing a hand to Chris' forehead, Chris laughed nervously, the soft touch sending his nerves left, right, and sideways as he was in too much of an awe to correct the man for mistaking him for Guy.

 

"That's not him, Jonny," Will shouted from the kitchen as he poked his head out the door, "That's his friend,"

 

Jonny laughed nervously as he blushed slightly, feeling awfully stupid as he pulled his hand away.

 

"Well that explains your amazing glow," he could have kicked himself as soon as he said it.

 

Chris smiled widely as his eyes lit up, "I'm Chris," he stuck his hand out and they both shook hands. 

 

As Guy eventually emerged wearing Will's oversized clothing, he sat down on the sofa and allowed the doctor to check him over, taking medication for the nausea, and aside from that he seemed relatively fine.

 

"Looks like you got off easily," Jonny said with a wink, while Chris silently swooned from behind him.

 

"Hey Jon, do you want to stay for a bit," Will asked as he carried a tray of tea.

 

With an quick and inconspicuous glance towards Chris, Jonny nodded.

 

"Of course, that would be wonderful,"

 

The four of them taking to Will's sitting room, laying in various spots on the couches, despite the fact that each halves of the four were basically strangers, they immediately felt that 'click'.

 

That strange click that you couldn't explain until it happened.

 

But somewhere, and somehow, they each knew the could very well be friends for a very long time.

 

And perhaps certain people of the group thought perhaps more than friends.

 

But whatever it was, or wasn't, Will was just glad he was finally home in his wonderfully air-conditioned home watching his favourite TV series.

 

Even if his sitting room was filled with two strangers and a doctor as well.

 

 

 

THE END. :cheesy:

 

 

 

[RowanMarie]

edited

[ColdplayPenguin]

Un-named

 

Here is a little continuation of the unnamed story I posted a while ago, I will eventually get a name for it and edit it, but for the meantime it will just stay like that.

Let me know what you thought/what can be improved on. :D x

 

 

 

 

 

The next morning I woke up with a splitting headache.

 

Which wasn't at all surprising after the night before.

 

As I tried to push past those cloudy barriers of my mind, I opened my eyes I reached around for my journal, feeling nothing but the other side of a mattress.

 

Which was entirely confusing in itself because my bed isn't that big.

 

But as I looked around I soon realised it was not my bedroom, and instead was Guy's.

 

I stumbled onto the carpet with my bare toes and managed to locate a spare piece of paper and a pen, sitting on the edge of the large double bed and staring into space.

 

I closed my eyes tightly, my brain throbbing from my hangover and frustration.

 

I had an inkling of a feeling that I had done something stupid the night before.

 

But I couldn't quite work out what.

 

I groaned and ripped the piece of paper into tiny shreds, rubbing my temples slowly in desperation.

 

The door creaked open and Guy stepped in with a steaming cup in his hand.

 

"Awake I see," he smiled before sitting down on the other side of the bed.

 

"What's all that shit over my carpet?" he complained.

 

I raised my eyebrows innocently.

 

"How's the hangover?" Guy asked with a slight laugh.

 

I narrowed my eyes grumpily, "What do you think,"

 

He rolled his eyes, "You really can't take your liquor at all,"

 

"We can't all be like you," I sniped.

 

"Are you planning on getting up this morning at all?"

 

"What time is it?" I groaned, leaning back against the pillow.

 

"After one in the afternoon," Guy said in that disapproving way of his.

 

I opened my tired eyes, "Will you make me cornflakes?" I asked him sweetly.

 

Guy scoffed, "I'm not your skivvy, get up and make them yourself you lazy shit,"

 

I gave him a dirty look but proceeded to the kitchen.

 

As I poured some cornflakes into a bowl, Guy said across from me at the counter, sipping his coffee.

 

"So I need you to take over some of my shift today," he said.

 

I raised an eyebrow, "Why would I do that?"

 

"Well I'm going to sign you up to those classes later," he explained as if it were obvious.

 

"What classes?" I frowned.

 

"The ones you agreed to join last night," Guy said slowly, his eyes fixed on me.

 

So that's what that feeling was.

 

I had done something stupid last night after all.

 

But as the previous day came back to me at once, I knew I couldn't really disagree now.

 

"All right," I nodded, slowly chewing some cereal.

 

Guy smiled triumphantly and downed the rest of his coffee.

 

Setting it into the sink, he turned around to look at me, "I know you're going to get better," he told me, "I am going to do everything in my power to see to it,"

 

I shook my head slowly, swallowing my spoonful, "There are no classes on this earth that can help me," I said simply, "I'm only going to one class for your benefit,"

 

"That doesn't rule out that it won't work," Guy reasoned.

 

I slowly placed my spoon down, "I don't rule out that this spoon will jump off and fly out the door, but that doesn't mean it is at all likely or even possible,"

 

"Do you have to be so negative about everything?" Guy snapped.

 

"I'm sorry," I said sarcastically, "I'm afraid that is one of the wonderful side effects of depression,"

 

"Well I'm leaving for work in twenty minutes so depressed or not, you smell like a brewery," Guy said over his shoulder as he washed the dishes.

 

I made childish faces behind his back before sloping off to shower.

 

I grabbed a couple of bits and pieces of mine in Guy's closet and pinched one of his towels and that lovely fruity shower gel he uses, taking to the shower.

 

I managed to get ready just in time as Guy was heading out the door and caught up to him in the street, falling into his stride as we walked towards work.

 

Clutching the side of my head, I suddenly stopped in the pavement, groaning slightly as I closed my eyes as tight as I could.

 

"What's wrong?" I heard Guy beside me, I couldn't open my eyes as the back of my eyelids rushed around with many different colours and loud noises sounded throughout my head.

 

I slipped my fingers behind my ears and rubbed the sides of my head viciously, "Please stop," I mumbled quietly, over and over.

 

"Jonny, what's going on?" Guy sounded scared but I could barely hear him.

 

The pain worsened as I held the railing so tightly the skin around my knuckles felt as though it could rip.

 

"Leave me alone," I cried out to the soaring pain through my head, I could barely manage to breathe.

 

I felt Guy's hand on my back as he persuaded me to sit down, on the pavement.

 

I leant my back against the building behind me, the colours swirled throughout my mind's vision but the loud noises grew quieter, and quieter, until they were replaced by the city life, so suddenly that I gasped sharply.

 

Guy's voice became more clear as he spoke softly, I managed to force my eyes open and away from the blinding array of colours and patterns whirring through my mind.

 

I looked around until I was met by the relieved expression of Guy, pale and kneeling down on the pavement beside me.

 

The pain slowed down to a dull thud as I drew my knees close to my chest.

 

"What was that?" Guy whispered to me urgently.

 

I looked at his eyes with my own, wide and scared.

 

"I am no fucking idea," I breathed.

 

Guy rubbed my shoulder for a few minutes.

 

"Is it over now?" he finally asked.

 

I breathed in and out slowly, my pulse calming, "Yes, I think so,"

 

He smiled at me reassuringly, although he was freaking shaking, "Let's get to work then,"

 

As we managed to walk for a bit, Guy quite obviously attempted to lighten the mood, "Is that my shower gel you're using?" he teased.

 

The last thing I wanted to do was joke around, I wanted to hide somewhere and never come out.

 

But I didn't want Guy to worry.

 

He is all I have and he doesn't deserve to be lumbered with my illnesses and all.

 

"It is," I said with a smile.

 

"Stealing my stuff are we?" he poked me lightly in the tummy.

 

I laughed softly, but it wasn't a proper laugh.

Although how would I really know what a proper laugh even is now?

 

"It's the least I deserve after you refusing to make my breakfast,"

 

Guy stuck his tongue out at me jokingly as he pushed the small door open to the shop as we arrived.

 

I followed him in and hung up my jacket, replacing it with an apron and my name tag.

 

"You're late," Mona snapped.

 

Mona was the third employee in our small corner shop. Besides from the owner of course.

 

She was the manager, and she had probably the coolest hair I have ever laid eyes on.

 

Jet black and cut shortly, it was jelled to stand almost completely upwards, the back of her head shaved, she had tattoos of music notes across her neck and down to her collarbone.

 

She had snakebite tattoos on her chin and her ears were pierced four times.

 

I thought she was remarkably pretty with her large almond eyes coated in eyeliner and mascara, but truth be told she scared the shit out of me.

 

"We slept in," Guy explained, clocking in on the clipboard on the counter.

 

"Feeling better after yesterday?" she asked with a suspicious air along with a whiff of her misty perfume.

 

My eyes shot up in alarm, looking quickly at Guy.

 

"Food poisoning," Guy said nonchalantly as he clocked me in, finally glancing up, he laughed.

 

"That's the last time I try cooking,"

 

I laughed nervously along with him.

 

"Hmmmm," she mumbled, scribbling down stock supplies.

 

"Did you miss me gorgeous," Guy grinned flirtatiously as he leaned against the counter, she looked up at him with a bored expression.

 

Although I previously said Guy could attract any living thing he fancied.

Mona was one thing that he could not.

 

But that didn't set him off track, the ladies' man himself was quite the determined stud.

 

"I saw you last night," Guy whispered seductively, I shared a roll-of-the-eyes with Mona.

 

Guy leaned in closer, "-In my dreams," he said softly.

 

She gave him her trademark unamused expression, "In your dreams indeed,"

 

"You won't be able to resist this piece of sexy for long," Guy stated, indicated to his body.

 

"Well in that case you will be waiting a long time," she quipped as he pulled on her black leather jacket.

 

"I'm prepared," he wiggled his tongue back and forth between his lips.

 

"I'm off now boys," she laughed as she lingered by the door, "Don't set anything on fire,"

 

Guy mimicked her in an exaggerated voice when she left.

 

I shook my head with a laugh, turning the closed sign to an open.

 

"So are we going to talk about what happened or are we just going to pretend it didn't happen?" Guy hopped up onto the counter and sat on it, facing me.

 

"I don't know what to say Guy," I said quite honestly, "I don't know what happened myself,"

 

"Isn't good to let all your feelings out and all that schmuck,"

 

I raised my eyebrows, taking a cardboard box of tinned cans and walking towards a shelf.

 

"Your psychologist must have a time of it," Guy quipped.

 

"I'll be locked away before you know it," I joked, stacking soup cans side by side.

 

"No you won't." Guy said surprisingly sharply.

 

"-Once you get up and running with these classes it will be fine, that's why I'm taking off in an hour or so to go and sign you up,"

 

I sighed, "It's stupid to get your hopes up so high Guy,"

 

I could feel him glaring at my back.

 

"I'm being open-minded," he snapped, "You should try it some time,"

 

I turned around slowly from my crouched down position, "If only I could," I said quietly.

 

"I didn't mean it like that," Guy sighed, "I just wish you would go into this with open eyes,"

 

"I'm sorry Guy!" I exclaimed, "But it's just not that easy,"

 

"I know it isn't-"

 

I interrupted him, "-No, you don't,"

 

I couldn't stand around arguing with him, already beginning to feel upset, I stood up and walked into the back.

 

"Jonny-" he protested.

 

I closed the door harder than I should have, walking towards the kettle in the back room, already starting to feel guilty for how I treated Guy.

 

He was only trying to help and I was shoving him away.

 

Guy and I fought often, Mona often said that hell would freeze over before an hour went by without our bickering.

 

But it was never anything too serious.

 

This was different. This was about my health.

 

And that wasn't something I wanted to talk about a lot.

 

I poured myself a cup of black coffee, sipping at the boiling liquid furiously as it burned at my lips.

 

I heard the door creak open and sneakers pad into the room.

 

"Not going to even offer me a cup?" Guy pushed past me to get the kettle.

 

When he finished rummaging around, he took his cup in one hand an leant against the cabinets, watching me carefully.

 

"Aren't you going to go to the damn counter," I sniped, "Or are you going to wait until the customers levitate and come to you,"

 

He gave me a snarky expression and took his coffee out leaving me with my thoughts.

 

After a couple of minutes, I followed him out, giving him a sheepish glance as I passed.

 

"I'm sorry," I muttered hesitantly, toying with a can of soup in my hands.

 

"It's okay," Guy replied quietly.

 

And that was all that was needed.

 

We had never been ones for emotional reconciliations.

 

It had always been, 'I'm sorry' and 'It's okay'.

 

Even back in college when he forgot my binder of essays on the bus.

 

And I had to redo a whole year's worth of work.

 

I could have literally murdered him, but there are bigger problems out there than my essays.

 

So he apologised and although I was mad, I said it was okay and that was it.

 

"Maybe what you need is a girlfriend," Guy pondered as he scanned a jar of milk for the customer that just entered.

 

I turned around to him when the customer had left with a plastic bag containing their purchase.

 

"I wouldn't burden any woman with my screwed-up self,"

 

Guy rolled his eyes but gave me a sly smile.

 

"Maybe what you need is a boyfriend," he reasoned.

 

I gave Guy a faint look of irritation, "I wouldn't burden any man with my screwed-up self either," 

 

"-To be honest I wouldn't even wish myself on a poor inanimate object,"

 

"Oh Jonny," Guy sighed exasperatedly, "What does that say about me,"

 

"You've signed the contract," I said with a laugh, "There's no going back now,"

 

"Darn it," Guy snapped his fingers jokingly, "I was thinking of trading you in for a younger model,"

 

"Afraid not buddy," I laughed, moving onto the cold drink fridges.

 

"I'll be off now," Guy said as he pulled off his apron, "You'll manage on your own, yeah?"

 

I shrugged, "I suppose,"

 

"Don't tell the boss," he said with a wink as he slipped out the door, "I'll see you when I see you,"

 

I rolled my eyes with a fond smile, and replaced Guy's position at the counter.

 

 

***(Guy's PoV)***

 

 

I sighed deeply as I walked down the streets as I set off to the building.

 

As much as Jonny pisses me off sometimes, I cared about him deeply.

 

And watching him this morning, with whatever was going on in that head of his, properly scared me.

 

Not even scared as in when a spider on your wall suddenly disappears, or scared when you have twenty missed calls from your mum.

 

But scared as in when you can barely breathe and your knees are shaking but you can barely react because you're frozen in terror.

 

It was like something out of a horror movie.

 

I felt completely and utterly useless.

 

Had I done the right thing?

 

Perhaps I should have brought him to a hospital.

 

But it was not as if he would at all thank me for it.

 

He spends enough time in doctors offices to last a lifetime.

 

I should probably state why I have suddenly took an interest into Jonny's mental well being, because before I took it quite casually. I just assumed it would pass, like it was some sort of phase.

 

Until one night I had a nightmare that would haunt me to this day.

 

I was watching one of those old documentaries and I wasn't particular paying attention to what it was about, it had been a tiring day at work and I was dozing off on the sofa.

 

But something caught my attention as I noticed it was about the old mental institutions.

 

As I watched wide-eyed about the truly disgusting and spine-chilling ways they used to 'cure' these poor, unwell people, I somehow drifted off when it went to an ad break.

 

Immediately falling into my dream's world of darkness.

 

My shoes clinking against the pristine halls, it was eerily dark but I could hear a familiar voice, calling out to me. So I followed. As you would do.

 

I pushed open the creaky, grey door.

And the first thing I spotted was a chair almost like a much more sinister version of a dentist's chair.

 

I glanced around the room and noticed there was blood splattered on the walls and long scraping marks dented into the concrete.

 

I turned back to the chair and noticed it was occupied by my best friend. Jonny.

 

His eyes wide and filled with fear, his mouth closed with tape, his hands shackled to the chair along with his legs, I reached out to help him, but a furious nurse slapped my hand away.

 

I cried out to them that he didn't like it.

 

But they couldn't hear me over the sound of their drills and electrocution operators.

 

I screamed as hard as I could trying to push them away from him, but it was almost like they were nailed to the ground and I was too weak.

 

Suddenly the chair vanished as did the nurses and the noises, and the next thing I knew I was in a small boxed room with a single chair containing Jonny.

 

I immediately ran up to beside him, reaching out for his battered and swollen hand.

 

But he slapped my hand away with fury, petrified as he stared right at me.

 

The next thing I knew the nurses were back and suddenly the chair I thought was a chair was buzzing with electric as he screamed out for me to make it stop.

 

He was screaming so hard I thought my eardrums could pop.

 

But the screaming was cut short as the electric died out and his body lay lifeless as he slid out of the chair.

 

I cried hard as I ran over to beside him, but I found myself inside another room.

 

Watching as they beat him.

 

Apparently trying to 'cure' him.

 

I won't go into all the gory and gruesome details but I will say it was awful enough to make a man my age wake up sobbing and in a pool of my own cold sweat.

 

So that night, at 3:42am.

 

I made a vow that I would help him to get better, and that he would never be degraded, humiliated, or harmed like I had saw in my nightmare.

 

I didn't go back to sleep, and instead I put a pot of coffee on and turned on every light in my flat.

 

Let's just say I was getting the heeby-jeebies in that flat all by myself.

 

And I started up my laptop, scouring the Internet for suitable classes.

 

Thanking my lucky stars I found some, which looked quite promising.

 

I took the day researching and talking to the mentors at the class, and at last I was on my way to sign him up.

 

A few minutes later I was sitting on the opposite of a desk in front of a round, spectacled man as I explained Jonny's current situation.

 

"Well that is an extremely rare case," he said as he took it all in, panic attacks, breakdowns and all.

 

"But what I am going to recommend is he continues going to his usual psychologist, and he takes part in a six week period of our classes, the first one being a free tester, and if there hasn't been an improvement, I would recommend a sleep clinic which we could arrange for a short time, and we will work from there," 

 

"A sleep clinic?" I repeated dumbly.

 

"Yes, we can find one that easily accessible,"

 

"So you can help?"

 

"Well," he cleaned his small glasses slowly, "We aren't exactly experienced in this sort of situation, but the best route to go would be to have him accept it as something that is always going to be there, perhaps instead of trying to remember it, or we would take an alternative route and attempt to find the core of the dream,"

 

"What do you mean?" I said confused.

 

"I think it would be best to speak to parents, grandparents, friends, anyone that could really help,"

 

I rubbed the back of neck nervously, "That isn't exactly possible,"

 

He glanced at me, "No?"

 

"Well, erm, I'm kind of the only person he actually has,"

 

The little man frowned sympathetically.

 

"By any chance could we contact any old teachers from his childhood or anything like that?"

 

"That might be possible," I agreed.

 

"Then we could do that route then," he nodded slowly

 

"-If push comes to shove, I will suggest an asylum," he told me.

 

My eyes suddenly flashed, "No!" I said perhaps a tad too aggressively.

 

"I'm not saying he would have to be admitted, but if he becomes a danger to himself or others, then that would be the best option,"

 

"-But we'll start of with our toe in the shallow end and stick with the classes for now, yes?"

 

I nodded in agreement.

 

"Now," he pulled out a large stack of paperwork, "We need to discuss a payment,"

 

"-Like I said before, the first class is a free tester, but with this rough figure I've drawn up, that includes absolutely everything, a pre-payment to any clinics or whatever need be in advance to ensure he will come out the other side depression free, the anxiety attacks will be lessened and we will try to get to the bottom of this dream situation,"

 

He slid the small scrap of paper across the table slowly.

 

I took a deep breath, preparing myself.

 

Embarrassing myself completely I let out a gasp and said, "Fuck,"

 

Staring at the rather large sum of money on the scrap of paper, I knew I couldn't afford it.

 

"I'm sorry," I stuttered an apology for my cursing as I blushed furiously, "T-That's quite the sum," I cleared my throat awkwardly.

 

"I know," the man pushed his spectacles back from his nose, "But it will be well worth every penny,"

 

And I knew he was telling the truth.

 

Managing to swallow my surprise, I glanced up at him, "That's fine,""

 

"It Is?" he sounded surprised.

 

"Yes, I'll have the money ready if he agrees to stay,"

 

I knew exactly where I was going to get the money from.

 

But I knew exactly how Jonny would react if he found out.

 

And it wouldn't be pretty.

 

So signing up bits and pieces of paperwork, I set off, back on my way to the corner shop.

 

Ready with news for Jonny.

 

News that could possibly fix him.

 

 

 

 

[ColdplayPenguin]

Un-named

 

 

 

 

 

 

***(Jonny's PoV)***

 

 

"Have a nice day ma'am," I said softly as I handed the lady her change.

 

She nodded at me politely and took her carrier bag, "Bye," she smiled as she closed the door.

 

I scanned my eyes boredly around the room as I waited for Guy to return.

 

 

It had been almost an hour, but it wasn't as though we were swept off our feet.

 

It was a small corner shop in a city after all, it was doing as well as it was supposed to.

 

Our prices were very low, so that was what accounted for most of our business.

 

But my thoughts of the day didn't exactly consist of the amount of customers that passed through the doors, rather than the empty feeling inside of my chest every single second of every single day.

 

Depression can be a very tiring thing.

 

It wasn't something that could be easily distinguished.

 

It isn't always that person who is crying and sobbing.

 

It could be that person that is always smiling and laughing.

 

But feel empty inside.

 

Like it was no use anymore.

That no light could shine through the clouds of their mind anymore.

 

It wasn't something you could see as such.

 

Although depression is only my second biggest worry. Frustration is my first.

The frustration of every day having this weight on your shoulders, pushing you down and refusing to allow you to feel true happiness.

 

Plus the random breakdowns and anxiety attacks are quite the inconvenience to say the least.

 

I'm just a bundle of sunshine and happiness in summary.

 

Why I don't have a million friends by now is beyond me.

 

That of course was sarcasm.

 

It is quite hard to distinguish between sarcasm and stating something in text.

 

I managed to snap myself out of my trance as Guy pushed the door open and stepped in, I looked up and smiled.

 

"How did it go?" I asked him.

 

He grinned, although there was something about those beautiful brown eyes of his that he wasn't telling me something, "You start tomorrow,"

 

I nodded, "What did the doctor say?"

 

"Do you want to come back to mine? Our shifts are basically done,"

 

I shrugged, "Okay,"

 

Ten minutes later I had curled my legs under myself as I took the cup of tea from Guy's hands as he sat down beside me.

 

"So the classes will go on for like six weeks," Guy told me as though he as recently qualified for his degree in psychology, "Then they are going to try a sleep clinic,"

 

I stared at him for what felt like a long time, "A sleep clinic?"

 

"Yes," he played with a thread on his ripped jeans, "I think this could be a good thing,"

 

"What in the fucking earth is a sleep clinic!?" I cried incredulously.

 

"A clinic that specialised is sleep disorders and relating things,"

 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?! I don't have a fucking sleep disorder,"

 

"Google it damnit! I'm not a doctor. I'm sure the doctor wouldn't suggest something that he didn't think was going to help,"

 

"Like he has any idea what he's talking about," I snapped, "Some over-paid junkie probably,"

 

"Jonny," Guy groaned, "Would you at least listen to me!?"

 

"I am," I grumbled.

 

"So what I'm saying is that you will still be going to your usual psychologist, but if these six weeks of classes don't work, then a sleep clinic is what you're going to,"

 

"I'm not going to no fucking clinic," I muttered stubbornly.

 

"Do you want to get better!?" Guy grabbed my shoulder.

 

I stared down at my lap in shame, "Of course I do," I said quietly.

 

"Well then you are giving this a chance,"

 

I knew Guy was right.

 

The man might be wrong about a lot of things.

 

But this was something he was right about.

 

"Okay, I will try it,"

 

He smiled genuinely and rubbed my shoulder, "That's great news,"

 

A thought came into my mind as I quickly glanced up at Guy, "-And how much is all of this anyway?"

 

Something in his eyes shifted, "I'm taking care of that, don't worry,"

 

"I want to know how much it is,"

 

"It isn't that much, honestly," Guy said reassuringly, "Think of it as an early birthday present," he laughed with a wink.

 

I laughed, but there was something uneasy about it.

 

"Well get yourself home and get some rest, I'll text you in the morning," Guy said with a shoulder, clapping my shoulder on his way to the kitchen.

 

"Okay, see you tomorrow," I called on my way out.

 

When I arrived at my flat five or so minutes later, I sank into the couch with a sigh.

 

I didn't bother to turn on the lights.

 

What was there to see?

 

I had seen it all before, every single day.

I knew what my flat looked like.

I didn't need to waste electricity.

 

And besides my head hurt like hell.

 

I stared out into the blackness, trying to figure out what was locked away inside of my head.

 

What was this dream, tearing my life apart in its wake.

 

Maybe I have some undiagnosed illness of over-obsessed paranoia.

 

But then again, when I am in the dream.

I know something is there.

All around me.

 

But it's like I can't open my eyes and see it, like I'm forever trapped inside of my own mind.

 

Like its pulling me inside of it, and one day I will end up so deeply submerged in my own head that I won't be able to come out of it.

 

Perhaps if I do remember it will just immediately put me in a coma.

 

I just wanted to get it over with.

 

To stop this mind-raging frustration tearing it's claws into me.

 

But it was stuck with me.

And I stuck with it.

 

Feeling shitter that I had been feeling all day, I stumbled into my bedroom and climbed into bed.

 

Closing my eyes, I could already feel the demons creeping in between the shutters and casting their poisons among my subconscious.

 

But somehow I managed to drift off.

 

I woke up several hours later when it was daylight, my hazy mind dusting itself out as the warm sunlight shone on my face.

 

A feeling clouded over my mind.

 

I frantically jumped up out of bed and grabbed my journal but I could almost feel the memory slipping between my fingers.

 

 

"NO, NO, NO!!!" I cried out to the empty room, closing my eyes tightly as I fought frantically against the falling shutters of my mind and attempted to hold onto the last shred of my thoughts.

 

"GOD DAMMNIT," I screamed, falling to my knees in frustration.

 

I chucked the book hard against the wall, my hands shaking.

 

I ran my hands down my face over and over again.

 

But I wanted this feeling to end.

 

That horrible, frustrated, useless feeling I experienced every single morning of every single day.

 

I allowed a few angry tears to slip past my eyelids.

 

Before suddenly climbing to my feet, rummaging around the room for something.

Anything.

 

My mind was barely functioning but I had one thing in mind.

 

I grabbed whatever the first thing I saw was, which was a comb.

 

I dug it deep into my forearm, tiny bursts of pain tingled my nerves but it wasn't enough.

 

I found a broken edge of an old ruler, I pushed the sharp edge into my arm until the pain was strong enough to completely submerge my emotions.

 

Allowing the piece of plastic to slip from between my fingers, I sighed deeply, focusing my mind on the throbbing pain as every other feeling flew out of the window.

 

It almost felt nice.

 

I almost felt free.

 

Until the pain and the rush faded.

 

And I allowed my eyes to open.

 

Staring down at my red and almost bruising arm, I gasped.

 

What had I done to myself?

 

Is this what I've become?

Is this what I have turned to?

 

My knees went weak and buckled and I fell to the carpet, burying my face into my hands, I felt my eyes water.

 

And an overpowering feeling of guilt crushed every inch of my core, far worse than I had been feeling to begin with.

 

Why the fuck am I so stupid?

 

Why couldn't I have just waited until I had calmed down?

 

I rubbed my sore arm, "I'm so sorry," I whispered desperately as I began to cry, "I am so sorry,"

 

But I couldn't turn back the clock as much as I wanted to.

 

And I wasn't sure how I was going to look Guy in the eye after this.

 

"Look at yourself," I thought bitterly as I wiped the tears dripping down my face, "You are a mess,"

 

I managed to pick myself up off the floor, walking shakily into the kitchen as I switched on the kettle.

 

My phone buzzed from across the room.

 

It took me several times to type in the correct passcode with my trembling fingers, and for a second I feared I had locked my SIM card.

 

But I managed to get it in the end and I noticed I had a text message.

 

I opened it and read:

 

Guy:

 

"Morning sunshine, :P I'll be around in twenty mins. xx :)"

 

I could have burst into tears all over again.

 

I wasn't deserving of his kindness.

 

I wasn't deserving of even happiness at all.

 

I held back the tears that were so eager to escape and typed him a quick reply, pressing send and dropping my phone onto the counter.

 

Running my hand through my hair I attempted to figure out what I was going to do.

 

"Pretend nothing has happened," I told myself desperately, "The bruises and marks will go and nobody needs to find out. I can just continue with my life,"

 

But I wasn't sure if I could even forgive myself for what I've done.

 

How could I expect Guy to stand by me if he ever found out?

 

He would run a mile.

 

He would hate me.

 

I wiped my wet cheeks, my breathing beginning to become shallow.

 

I would just have to make sure he never found out.

And that nothing like this ever happened again.

 

Because the guilt I was feeling now was a million times worse than the frustration and anger.

 

It was all just a stupid mistake.

 

A stupid, careless mistake.

 

I let myself go and now I was left to pay the price of my actions.

 

 

I was drying off from my shower when I heard Guy's voice in the other room.

 

"I'm getting dressed," I called, but my voice sounded completely foreign to my ears.

 

"Well hurry it up," Guy replied, I heard the kettle click on, "-You're already beautiful enough Jay," he said with a laugh.

 

I stared down at my bruised arm.

 

My stomach felt like it was eating itself.

 

I managed to strangle out a laugh, pulling a long-sleeved jacket over my arms and tightening my jeans.

 

I shoved a hat over my hair as I stumbled out.

 

"You okay?" Guy looked at me intently from his perched position on my counter.

 

"Of course," I flashed a fake smile, "Get your ass down off my counter," I shooed him, "I have to eat off that you know,"

 

Guy rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.

 

"So the class starts at two, okay?"

 

"Alright,"

 

"But I'm taking off at half one because I need to go to the bank and get a couple of things, then I'll meet you back at the shop,"

 

I looked at him suspiciously, "I thought you said it wasn't expensive,"

 

"It isn't," Guy assured me, "I still need to go to the bank though,"

 

I looked at him for an extra second, "If you're sure,"

 

"Of course I am,"

 

"Well all right then," I folded my arms, "Let's go,"

 

 

***(Guy's PoV)***

 

 

Half one came and I slipped my apron off.

 

"Keep your paws off my girl," I joked to Jonny with a wink at Mona.

 

"I'll try my best," Jonny rolled his brilliant green eyes.

 

"Until again," I grinned as I caught Mona's pale hand, attempting to kiss it like those fancy gentlemen in movies do.

 

She slapped me right in the face, Jonny chuckled and I shot her a glare.

 

"Playing hard to get isn't cool Mona," I sniped on my way out.

 

I heard her and Jonny mumbling something, laughing together as I closed the door.

 

A fond smile danced on my face.

 

It was half one in the afternoon and Jonny hadn't had any breakdowns.

 

Which was brilliant.

 

I was practically grinning as I slid the doors open to the bank, sliding across the shiny tiles to the booth.

 

I handed the lady my card and scribbled down the amount I needed to take out.

 

"All of it?" she asked with a puzzled look.

 

I nodded and she went off to do whatever it is bank people do to get your money.

 

I genuinely had no idea.

 

But it wasn't my regular bank account I was cleaning out.

 

It was my fund for college.

 

Every penny my parents and I had put together to further my education and get me a degree in architecture.

 

Was now gone.

 

But I knew it was going to be worth it.

 

My best friend's health was a lot more important than a high-paid job that I didn't even want.

 

I had no interest in it.

 

But it was what my parent's wanted and I knew they were going to be devastated.

 

And I knew Jonny would probably kill me if he found out.

 

But this what I needed to do to fix my friend.

 

So I was going to try everything possible.

 

The lady returned with quite a heavy envelope full of notes, I signed a couple of forms and was on my way, slipping the envelope into my satchel and clutching it tightly.

 

When I returned to the shop, Jonny glanced up from his stocktake and began to take off his apron.

 

"Just where do you think you're going?" Mona frowned and narrowed her eye-lined eyes.

 

"Out," Jonny replied, reaching for the clock out clipboard.

 

Mona held it out of his reach, "Oh no you aren't,"

 

I reached over and plucked it out of her grasp, "Oh yes we are," I retorted, scribbling in me and Jonny's names and signing out.

 

He folded her arms and glared at me, "Where the fuck are you two lazy shits going now?!" she moaned.

 

"Do you two ever even work at all!?"

 

"It's important," I shot her a challenging look.

 

"I'm sure it isn't that important," she frowned at me.

 

"Well you're wrong," I snarked as I hung up my apron.

 

She picked my satchel containing the rather large sum of money and held it behind her back.

 

"I'm not giving this back until you tell where you're going. I'm not getting messed around again,"

 

I snapped it back, grabbing Jonny's arm and tugging him out the door.

 

"Jonny and I are getting married in Vegas. I'll see you later," I called as I pushed him out the door, closing it behind me.

 

Jonny gave me a bewildered look and I laughed.

 

Although he seemed to wince in pain.

 

Which was strange as I wasn't holding his arm that tightly.

 

But perhaps his headache is back again.

 

"Ready?" I said with a friendly smile.

 

He nodded unsurely, "I think so,"

 

"Good." I grinned.

 

"Off to the first day of your new life and all that schmuck," I laughed as I patted him gently on the arm, heading off towards the building, I truly believed it.

 

This could be the beginning of something great.

 

 

 

 

[Texas Rez]

Shenanigans: Apparently It's a Coldplay Fan-Fiction

Vol. 17 of the Rezzy Leon Short-Story Series

By Anthony Romero

 

Vol. 17-1: “This Is Just the Beginning to a Long, Boring Tale About How Rezzy Ended Up Meeting Coldplay by Accident (Get ‘Comfortable’)”

Vol. 17-2: “Sexy Is Baaaaaack!”

Vol. 17-3: “I Forgot to Give This Part of the Story a Name Until Now, So This Will Be the Name I Guess.”

Vol. 17-4: “We’re On a Mission, Dammit!”

Vol. 17-5: “Running Away from Your Problems Won’t Solve Anything (Again)”

[ColdplayPenguin]

Un-Named

 

A little more of this story! :D

I will get a name for it soon, haha. x

 

 

 

 

 

Walking into the large room in the city centre, my nerves were on a high.

 

Slipping into the room, I was greeted by a couple of turning heads, and the grinning face of a lady as she hurried towards us.

 

I felt like a child on my first day of nursery school or something.

 

And Guy was like my mother.

 

"Oh hello, Jonny is it?" the bright red-haired lady beamed with a huge white smile.

 

Half of me felt like sinking into Guy's shoulder and hiding behind him.

 

But that would have been stupid.

 

I nodded instead.

 

"Well our usual attendants are not here today so we only have a few people," she said softly.

 

She even had an aura of a nursery school teacher.

 

"If you'd like to take a seat, Mr Berryman here just has a couple of forms I'd like him to fill out," she smiled at me.

 

Guy gave me a reassuring smile.

 

That stupid half of me wanted to grab his arm and refuse to let him leave me in this strange place with these strangers.

 

But instead I walked wearily towards the circle of chairs and took as seat, watching Guy leave into a little room with the lady.

 

I watched them leave with sad eyes, before nervously shifting my eyes to catch a glimpse of the other people.

 

There were only five or so people.

 

I watched them all carefully.

 

They didn't look crazy.

 

But if they were here they must be as crazy as me.

 

I wondered if I looked crazy.

 

Were they sizing me up as well?

 

What if one of them spoke to me?

 

What was I supposed to say to my fellow crazy people?

 

A man with short ginger hair turned to a woman on the other side of the circle, "Tracy those muffins you brought were divine," he purred.

 

"Oh it's a new recipe," she gushed.

 

I watched their banter with petrified eyes.

 

These people were crackers.

 

Where the fuck was Guy?!

 

I felt my hands become clammy, my breath catching in my throat as I started to breathe quicker.

 

Almost on the verge in hyperventilating.

 

What if Guy isn't coming back?

 

What if he has left me locked with these strange people.

 

They would eat me alive.

 

I'm the weakest of the group, plus I'm new.

 

Surely I would be cannibalised first.

 

My head grew cloudy as I struggled to keep up with my lung's demand for oxygen, sliding off my seat as the strange colours grew back into my mind, the pain tingling in either side of my forehead as my head throbbed.

 

"Are you alright, son," a middle-aged man asked me, resting his hand on my arm.

 

I jolted away from him, unable to see his face past the whirring patterns behind my eyelids, I clambered under my seat, drawing my knees to my chest, burying my fingers in my hair as I tried to stop the loud noises and get rid of the pain.

 

"Lisa!" someone called, and a few seconds later high-heeled footsteps ran out of the room along with the familiar padding of Guy's sneakers.

 

I couldn't hear barely anything beside the loud noises running around my brain, but I could hear muffled voices.

 

"Guy!!" I called out, I felt like the colours were dragging my mind away from reality.

 

I couldn't tell if I was crying or not but I began to claw at the sides of the chair I was crouched under.

 

What if I was trapped under this chair!?

 

My heart skipped out of control as I cried out for Guy.

 

I felt two arms wrap themselves around me and rescue me from the vicious clutches of the chair, "It's okay," Guy said softly, "You're okay now,"

 

I held tightly to his t-shirt, my eyes tightly shut as I waited for the loud noises to quieten down.

 

It took a couple of minutes, but Guy was patient and held me close until I could open my eyes, the strange colours and patterns gone.

 

"Are you feeling better?" he asked me quietly, rubbing a hand up and down my back.

 

I nodded slowly, the pain monster had tired himself out and I could hear the other sounds in the room clearly.

 

"Let's take a seat now," Guy smiled at me with his warm brown eyes.

 

I nodded and took a seat on one of the fold out chairs, Guy sat beside me and pulled his seat close to mine.

 

I stared around at the faces of the other people in the circle.

 

Well if they didn't think I looked crazy, they definitely would now.

 

Lisa, the red-haired lady took her seat at the top of the circle, smiling kindly at me.

 

I may as well have been sitting on Guy's lap and holding his hand because that was how ridiculous I felt at that moment.

 

Lisa announced her name, even though I already knew it.

 

She also went over what we were going to be doing for the six weeks, for my benefit of course.

 

Apparently we would be studying into the science of dreaming and trying some meditation techniques. As well as understanding why dreams happen and what they mean.

 

I was beginning to feel pretty bored.

 

She had also given Guy a prescription for anti-depressant drugs.

 

Forget about feeling like I'm being patronised, I was more worried about whether I would have a breakdown next class.

 

As she waved us all goodbye and announced that the whole class would be back next week and we would begin therapy, I took a deep breath and headed towards the exit with Guy.

 

Stepping out of the claustrophobic building, I leaned against the wall, finally feeling like I could properly breathe.

 

"All right?" Guy asked as he leaned against the wall beside me.

 

I nodded slowly.

 

Guy rubbed the back of his neck.

 

"I don't want to upset you or anything, but do you want to stay at mine tonight?"

 

"Why would I do that?" I looked up at him.

 

"Well not to offend you or anything, but I do think it would be better,"

 

"I don't need to be babysat," I snapped.

 

"I know you don't, but I think it would be better for both of us. I'm not going to get any sleep tonight if you're alone tonight," Guy said honestly.

 

I have put Guy through enough today.

 

The least I could do was give in to his wishes.

 

"Fine," I agreed, following him home.

 

When we arrived I immediately took to the couch, attempting to smother my thoughts with mindless TV shows.

 

Half an hour later, Guy pushed a bowl of fries into my lap, I smiled at him gratefully and made room for him on the couch.

 

"So what do you think of the class?" Guy asked as he reached across and pinched a fry from my plate.

 

I raised my eyebrows expectantly.

 

"Fantastic," I said sarcastically.

 

Guy rolled his eyes, "Besides that, did you think it was prosperous?"

 

"I honestly don't know," I frowned slightly at my plate.

 

"Well you'll probably get the gist of it next class," Guy shrugged, "I thought it sounded okay,"

 

"I was too busy trying to stop my mind from exploding," I mumbled sarcastically.

 

Guy stole another fry as he switched on the TV, flicking through the channels lazily.

 

"Why didn't you just make yourself some?" I mused.

 

"Well I didn't want any when I was making them," 

 

I rolled my eyes as I moved the bowl into his reach.

 

He grinned mischievously at me and switched over to a decent movie.

 

Ah.

 

A high-paced, mind-numbing, violent and loud action movie was just what I needed after the day I've had.

 

A couple of hours later Guy headed off to bed.

 

Yes, bed.

 

If this was a reality sitcom, Guy would be sweet and offer me the bed.

 

But no, this was real life and I was compelled to the lumpy couch.

 

I knew it was better off this way because Guy would do nothing but bitch about how sore his back was every five minutes tomorrow.

 

Knowing Guy he would probably call in sick over a little sore muscles.

So I was probably doing my future self a favour not taking the bed.

 

Sometimes I just shoved him over to one side of the bed and slept there too, but he tends to be a blanket-hogger and I was basically too lazy to move from the couch.

 

I could have been in my own bed right now if it wasn't for Guy and his worrying.

 

Although I knew my own bedroom now contained horrible memories, like a thick grey cloud contaminating it.

 

As well as my little blue bruise as a reminder of my moment off guard.

 

Managing to eventually close my eyes and stop staring at the darkened ceiling, I was almost afraid to fall asleep.

 

Despite how tired I was, I wasn't sure I could control my heavy emotions when I woke up.

 

There was always caffeine.

 

I could stall it.

 

But I could already feel my mind slipping into itself.

 

My muscles relaxing.

 

I wanted to scream but unconsciousness was already settling over me.

 

Blinking slowly one final time, I was pulled into the deep land of sleep.

 

 

 

 

***(Guy's PoV)*** 

 

 

I awoke to a startling crash and the sounds of rummaging around and cutlery clanging.

 

At first I subconsciously slid my hand towards the wooden stick I keep beside my bed for emergencies.

 

But then I realised Jonny was staying.

 

Which automatically sparked more questions and worries.

 

Rubbing my tired eyes, I blinked at the red flashing clock on the bedside table.

 

It read a little past three am.

 

I pulled my blankets aside and the cold air immediately hit my legs, I placed my bare toes on the carpeted ground and made my way to the door in my dark room.

 

Opening my door, the light from the kitchen shone through.

 

I couldn't help but hesitate.

 

I wasn't sure what to expect these days.

 

Why couldn't his mind give him a god damn break once in a while!?

 

I sighed and walked towards the kitchen, immediately distressed at what I saw.

 

"Jonny what are you doing?" I asked quietly from behind him as to not send him into a panic.

 

"I'm making coffee," he replied slowly.

 

"There is more coffee on this counter and the floor and all over your damn clothes than in this cup," I chided.

 

He dropped the handful of spoons he was holding onto the counter with a blank stare.

I was starting to wonder whether he could even hear me.

 

"Jonny?" I asked gently.

 

He didn't reply, staring at the counter at the large mess of coffee spilt everywhere.

 

"Why don't you go on to bed?" I coaxed him softly, noticing the exhaustion in his eyes and the dark shadows under them.

 

"I don't want to," he said blankly.

 

"You're practically dead on your feet, go on, I'll clear this up,"

 

"I made a mess Guy," he whispered.

 

"I can see that, but it's alright, now go and get changed and get into bed,"

 

"I ruined your counter,"

 

"No it's only a little coffee, don't worry," I reassured him softly. But I wasn't sure if I could help him at the moment.

 

By the looks of what was happening, I had a horrible feeling he was feeling a little funny up there.

 

"I didn't mean to,"

 

"I know you didn't,"

 

"Please don't hate me," he said shakily, clutching tightly to the counter, "I'm sorry,"

 

"I think you need some sleep," I tried to slip an arm around his shoulders and coax him to listen to me, but he brushed my hand away, turning around to face me instead.

 

"Please don't hate me," he whispered again, "Please,"

 

My heart was hammering against my chest.

 

How was I supposed to deal with him when he was like this?

 

I wasn't a doctor or a specialist or a psychologist.

 

I am Guy.

 

Maybe I should have phoned a professional or someone who would have known what to do.

 

But judging by the earlier events of the day, I knew that I could at least calm him down if he gets distressed.

 

"I won't ever hate you,"

 

Slowly he sank against the cabinets, drawing his knees into his chest.

 

"I made a mess of everything, I know you will hate me,"

 

"Don't be silly," I said softly, although every inch of me was terrified.

 

His breathing quickly increased and became shorter and more laboured.

 

His eyelids screwed themselves tightly shut and I knew whatever was going on in his mind right now was kicking in the little demons of pain.

 

"Shhh, it's alright," I knelt beside him, "It's okay,"

 

His eyebrows tightening together in pain as he murmured quietly to himself.

 

I moved a little closer and held him for a moment, there was a stage I was contemplating phoning an ambulance if his breathing didn't relax.

 

I feared he would go into a full blown breakdown.

 

But he held onto me until the pain passed and his breathing had calmed slightly.

 

"See?" I soothed, "It's okay, I'm here,"

 

"Sorry," he murmured quietly, "I'm didn't mean to,"

 

I was honestly too afraid to press on it.

Deciding if it was just best I got him to sleep.

 

But first I led him to the sink in the bathroom, leaning his two arms over the sink, coffee granules sticking to his pale skin.

 

"Here, rinse off and I'll get you a towel," I told him softly.

 

He nodded blankly, staring at the tiles.

 

When I returned moments later he was indeed rinsing his arms, only with boiling hot water.

 

My eyes flew open as I rushed towards him, cursing up a storm as I hastily pulled his arms away from the boiling flow, the steam was clouding up the mirror; it was that hot.

 

How could he not feel that!?

 

I wasn't even sure if had noticed, staring at the tiles.

 

"Damnit Jonny!" I cried, turning on the cold gap and forcing his red arms under it, "Can you hear me?" my voice began to grow desperate and I knew he could tell.

 

Sighing deeply, I rubbed away the mass of coffee granules with a soft sponge and some soap, the brown liquid swirling down the drain along with my optimism.

 

If his mind worsened I wasn't sure if he would be able to cope with it.

 

I wasn't sure if I would be able to cope with it.

 

Although I would sooner care for him myself than a clinic, I was starting to wonder if I even was fit for it.

 

But I wasn't going to abandon him.

 

Not like his whole family had.

 

I would never do that to him, not ever.

 

I dried off his arms with a towel and steered him towards the bedroom.

 

I rummaged around the closet and pulled out one of his t-shirts, handing it to him.

 

He took it, staring at the piece of clothing in thought.

 

"Go on," I encouraged him with a light prod, "It's not going to put itself on,"

 

He didn't appear to be taking in anything I was saying.

 

A sigh slipped out of my lungs as I gently tugged his coffee-stained shirt over his chest and carefully replaced it with a clean one, "Better," I said with an slight smile, despite the fact that I wanted to curl up in a corner and cry because of the complete emptiness in his eyes.

 

I pulled back the duvet and gently laid him backwards, he stared up at the ceiling, his mouth uttering quiet words that I couldn't hear. Over and over again.

 

Tucking my duvet on top of him, I sat down on the edge of the bed, he had stopped muttering and instead was silent.

 

I wasn't sure if this was a good sign or not, but instead I ran a hand over his messy hair, "It'll be better in the morning," I soothed, "Go to sleep, okay?" I ran my hand through his hair until he drifted off to sleep.

 

"Why Jonny?" I asked to the empty room, "What has he ever done to deserve this?"

 

But my questions went unanswered and I was greeted by the mind-numbing silence.

 

Eventually I left him alone to sleep peacefully, despite the fact that I knew it wouldn't be peaceful at all.

 

There was a dream running ragged in his mind right at this very second and I knew he wasn't going to remember a second of it.

 

Sometimes I wish I could just crawl into his mind and pull the dream away.

 

And perhaps kick the shit out of it and set it on fire when I'm finished.

 

It was ruining his life.

 

It would deserve it.

 

Stumbling into the dully lit kitchen, I glanced around at the mess, indulging myself with a long sigh.

 

Flicking on the kettle, I pulled out a sponge and a bottle of soap from the cabinet under the sink.

 

It was going to be a long night.

 

 

 

[ColdplayPenguin]

Un-named

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

***(Jonny's PoV)***

 

 

When I woke up the next morning, I was immediately clouding over with that familiar, thick layer of confusion.

 

Something wasn't right.

 

I didn't fall asleep in a bed last night.

 

I was on the couch.

 

And I certainly wasn't wearing this t-shirt.

 

Confusion wasn't the only feeling that was drifting in and out of the nerves of my brain.

 

Closing my eyes tightly and forcing my mind to recall something.

 

-Anything!!

 

But nothing came.

 

Of course not. 

 

Why do I even bother trying anymore?

 

But again, there was still something at the back of my subconscious.

It knew.

 

And it was taunting me every second with its knowledge. Laughing at me.

Waiting slowly until I crack up-

 

A loud noise from the kitchen pulled me from my thoughts.

 

For that I was thankful for.

 

I had been heading down a road that should not be even looked upon.

 

"Good morning," Guy said cheerfully as I entered the kitchen, already clad in his casual jeans and a loose red t-shirt.

 

Accompanied with two dark bags under his eyes and a cup of black coffee in his hand.

 

"How did you sleep?" he smiled, watching me ever so carefully as I slowly poured myself a cup of coffee.

 

"Why...?" I said suspiciously.

 

"I'm only asking," Guy scoffed, pointing towards the counter at the stack of toast he'd made for me.

 

I placed my cup on the counter and folded my arms.

 

"What's up with you now?"

 

Guy widened his eyes and plastered on his familiar, ''I'm completely innocent,'  look.

 

I stared at him expectantly.

 

"Why was I not on the couch then?" I said slowly, "-And why do you look so damn tired?"

 

He was about to respond when I interrupted him with my own desperate groan, "Please tell me you went out last night,"

 

Guy's eyebrows almost flew right off his head and onto the ceiling, opening his mouth again, I was on a roll and interrupted once more.

 

"-Because I actually like that couch, you know," I continued, my brow frowned in disgust.

 

Guy rolled his eyes, "I'll have you know I didn't do anything last night, and I thought your back might be better on a bed instead,"

 

I stared at him with my usual disbelieving stare.

 

"Guy I've known you for how long? And yet you still think you can fool me. What's going on?"

 

Guy sighed, I knew I'd hit the nail on its head.

 

"Well...you were acting a little strange last night," he said slowly and cautiously, kind of unwilling to tell me.

 

"What kind of strange?" I frowned.

 

"You know..." he fidgeted with his hands, "Muttering a little, rummaging around the kitchen, spilling coffee all over the place,"

 

I guess he decided honesty was the best policy-

 

"-You looked completely blank Jonny," he said, "You could have gotten hurt,"

 

Getting hurt was one of my last concerns at the minute.

 

I could have hurt someone else.

 

I ran hand through my face and sat heavily onto the side of the couch.

 

Guy rubbed my shoulder a little from behind, "But your okay now, yeah?"

 

I knew it was his little show of comfort and reassurance, and for that I was thankful.

 

But the truth is, I was scared out of my mind.

 

Why couldn't I remember it at all?

 

Why did I feel like the thoughts inside my head were being vacuumed through to the depth of my subconscious?

 

And more importantly, why did I have the sudden urge to jam the nearest object into my arm?

 

Guy placed the mountain of toast onto the coffee table in front of me.

 

I had only been awake a couple of minutes and already my head was throbbing slightly.

 

Suddenly I felt stripped bare of my own thoughts.

 

Even I couldn't tell what was going on up there and it petrified me to no ends.

 

Vulnerability seemed over me in soft waves until I found myself wanting a hug.

 

I had never really been one for any kind of affection.

 

From absolutely anybody.

 

But all I wanted right now was a hug.

 

I looked up from the floor and noticed Guy was sitting on the edge of the coffee table watching me was a gentle, patient expression.

 

Something in my lost eyes must have told him my thoughts in sneaky devious whispers, because he slowly edged forward and wrapped his arms around my back, moving his sitting position from the table to the sofa cushion beside my thighs.

 

My head was swirling like a whirlpool but I rested my head on his shoulder and wriggled my arms around to hold onto him tightly.

 

"I'm not going anywhere," he said quietly, as his chin was against my shoulder, I could feel the vibrations from his throat.

 

I wanted to tell him that it was a silly statement.

 

Because he had his own life.

 

His own family.

 

A healthy mind and a prosperous future.

 

I knew I was only holding him back and wouldn't allow it.

 

I would sooner lock myself away in a padded cell than drag him down into my hellhole.

 

But I knew he was already fairly down with me.

 

So instead I didn't answer, burying my face into his shoulder as I attempted to wash away my burning thoughts.

 

It wasn't working.

 

But the hug was.

 

Almost like it was holding me together right now, and if he let go I would fall apart.

 

In retrospect, he was the one holding the rope tied around my waist as I dangled on the edge of a metaphorical volcano.

 

And holding the other half of the rope was fate.

 

Pulling me down into the bubbling lava-

 

"Did you hear what I said?" Guy asked me.

 

"Hmmm?" I mumbled, returning to reality.

 

"I said, 'Are you planning on eating that toast before it gets cold?'," he said with a laugh.

 

"Oh, yes." I pulled away, feeling foolish.

 

His warm brown eyes were glowing as he smiled at me.

 

I did feel awfully embarrassed but I was feeling less broken than usual.

 

There was also that horrible little feeling saying away at my stomach.

Twitching at the back of my mind.

 

Whispering into my ear, "He wouldn't hug you if he knew what you did to yourself yesterday, would he?"

 

I wanted to tell myself that he wouldn't mind either way, but I just couldn't.

 

He would never look me in the eye again if he knew.

 

I swallowed hard.

 

It's true what they say you know, your mind is your own worst enemy.

 

I felt an object in my lap and looked down to noticed Guy had placed the plate there.

 

"Eat up, space-cadet," Guy ruffled the top of my already messy hair and shimmied on into the kitchen to pour himself yet another cup of coffee.

 

I almost smiled.

 

Almost.

 

I didn't quite make it and soon wondered how it was even possible to smile when I could feel absolutely nothing right now.

 

So instead I nibbled on a piece of toast and contemplated the potential roller coaster of the day.

 

Only my roller coaster appeared to be glitched so that it only went in a downwards circle in a continuous loop.

 

 

 

 

 

[ColdplayPenguin]

Un-named

 

A little update, :D

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Psychologist today," Guy told me as he glanced over the calendar an hour or so later.

 

"What a joy," I said sarcastically.

 

"I was thinking about coming along too," Guy said.

 

I stared at him for a second, "Why would you do that?"

 

"Moral support?" he shrugged.

 

What was he going to do?

 

Hold my hand?

 

"You don't come any other day," I stated, "So what difference does it make?"

 

"Well you don't exactly have mental breakdowns any other day either," Guy shot back quite honestly.

 

He had called my bluff on that one.

 

"I'm just saying," he continued, "I think I need to go over a few things with the doctor,"

 

What was this sudden change?

 

Before he had just taken my illnesses in his stride.

 

Why was he now so determined to fix me?

 

Then again, having a couple of breakdowns a day wasn't a familiarity.

 

"It's alright, I will just go by myself," like I do every other damn day.

 

"Don't you think the doctor might want to speak to me, no?" he folded his lean arms across his chest.

 

"Of course not," I shook my head.

 

Although two hours later I couldn't have felt even more like an idiot.

 

Sitting on the plush armchair in front of his desk. I refused to lie like the usual crazy people would on the strange couch in the corner. I stared across at the doctor on his large, swirly, office chair.

 

Dr Jordan.

 

Dr Harrison Samuel Jordan.

 

I could basically write out the man's life story if you asked me to.

 

A little past middle-aged man, with hair more silver than black.

 

Spectacles.

(Most of the psychologists do I find.)

 

Originally from somewhere in Switzerland.

His mother Welsh.

 

(How he ended up in a London psychiatric clinic is anyone's guess.)

 

Completely irrational fear of ladybugs and is allergic to strawberries.

 

He has a habit of pursing his lips and rubbing his chin when in thought.

 

You can probably tell we spend a lot of time together.

 

In this damn office.

Taking about shit.

Suggesting solutions that never damn-well work.

 

But now after quizzing me on the dream journal technique, and frying me on the recent breakdowns I had hesitantly told him about, I stared into space and wished he would just shut up already and the time to be up so I could go home.

 

"I feel like there's something you aren't telling me Jonathan," he said in that strange accent of his. He was probably analysing my body-language and all that shit.

 

He probably had my every last thought worked out by now.

 

I subconsciously ran my thumb over my arm, fidgeting in my chair as I wondered if perhaps his always-alert eyes could see right through my clothes and onto the bruise on arm.

 

And now he was going to tell Guy.

 

And Guy was going to hate me.

 

Quickly my thoughts were ruffled.

 

If his eyes could see right through my clothes, I think my bruise would not be my first concern.

 

I suddenly felt quite uncomfortable, wriggling around slightly as I found it practically impossible to get comfortable.

 

Now I bet he was laughing on the inside.

 

I knew his solemn expression was all an act.

 

He knew that I knew that he knew. And now he was taking pleasure in watching me squirm like a worm on a hook.

 

"Stop looking at me you creep," I thought furiously in my head.

 

I hoped he could read my thoughts and all.

 

"Stop being so paranoid damn it," I snapped back at my thoughts, "It's impossible to see through clothing and read minds,"

 

"How do you know?" I shot back.

 

Even my own head could beat me at an argument.

 

"I'm okay," I told him, more out of habit than anything.

 

I just didn't see how talking about how screwed-up I was could actually help.

 

"So you said that Guy was there when you had the panic attacks?" I didn't like where this was going.

 

I had told him all about the strange colours in my head and the noises and how I couldn't remember the night before and he had been scribbling so hard in his notebook I thought his hand mind fall off.

 

"Yes," I said apprehensively.

 

"Would it be possible to get Guy in for a couple of minutes?' he asked in that doctory kind voice of his.

 

I frowned.

 

It was possible.

 

Guy had actually gone to the liberty of driving me there in his shitty car that grumbles like someone has piped rocks into its engine rather than oil, and he said he would pick me up again again when it was over.

 

He had a couple of errands to do and some groceries to get.

 

Probably taking a time out of being a full time psychiatric nurse and passing me along to the next unfortunate soul.

 

"No," I lied.

 

He looked at me carefully.

 

"It would be extremely helpful if I were to talk to Guy. If you cannot remember what you were doing I need to talk to someone that could,"

 

"I forgot my phone," I lied.

 

"You can use my office phone, he countered.

 

"I don't have his number,"

 

"I have him listed as next in kin, so I have his phone number on the system,"

 

I mentally cursed up an entire rainbow of curses in my head and gritted my teeth.

 

"Alright," I uttered.

 

He swiftly punched in the buttons on the telephone with his stubby index finger and passed the phone to me with its spiralling chord reaching across the table as I took it in my hand.

 

I held the phone to my ear, silently praying Guy had dropped his phone down a drain or something so I wouldn't have to embarrass myself.

 

But unfortunately the beautiful beeping tones came to a halt and I soon discovered Guy's phone hadn't had any life-threatening accidents today and I was greeted by his slick and Scottish accent saying, "Hello?"

 

I vaguely wondered why when people first answer the phone they always say hello in a questioning manner.

 

I mean, you don't greet someone in person and say "Hello?" you would say "Hello!"

 

Although this was a thought for a different time and I realised Guy needed a response in order to keep the conversation going.

 

"Hi," I said, "-It's me,"

 

Simplicity is key, eh?

 

"What's wrong? Your session done early?" he asked nonchalantly. I listened to the sounds in the background and could hear some sort of store.

 

"Err...." I watched Doctor Jordan carefully, "Not exactly,"

 

"So what?"

 

"I kind of..." I cleared my throat awkwardly and lowered my voice, "I kind of need you to come down here,"

 

Guy's voice was startlingly loud compared to my own ashamed whispering tone.

 

"What, why?"

 

"The doctor wants to talk to you,"

 

"I knew he would," Guy responded.*

 

Oh yes, I forgot about your psychic abilities Guy. My bad.

 

"So...can you?" I muttered into the speaker, wiggling my finger around the chord as I avoided Dr Jordan's gaze.

 

"Yeah of course," Guy said softly, "I'll be there in a minute, I'm in a queue at the coffee shop,"

 

"-Do you want anything?" he then asked.

 

"A cappuccino would be nice, with those little muffins," I added, Doctor Jordan was probably getting impatient but he can get stuffed.

 

"Sugar?"

 

"Yeah, five sachets,"

 

"Five?" Guy said quite incredulously as though it was the craziest thing I had ever done.

 

"Yes," I resisted the urge to physically roll my eyes and I could already sense he had rolled his eyes.

 

"How do you get not have diabetes or something by now?"

 

"-A Question of Life- by Guy Berryman," I quipped.

 

He laughed.

 

"Okay, I'll see you in a bit Jay,"*

 

"Bye," I said nonchalantly, greeted by the sound of joke kissing noises into the speaker.

 

I could already imagine all the strange looks he would be getting at the queue in the coffee shop.

 

And I knew he was only doing it to make me laugh.

 

But strangely enough it almost worked. I had a small smile on my face as I placed the phone down.

 

"He will be here soon," I told the doctor quietly as he looked at me over his stereotypical spectacles.

 

I hope I wasted his phone credits and he has a massive bill to pay.

 

That's what he gets for looking through my clothes and reading my mind.

 

 

Ten quiet and awkward minutes later, Guy slid the door open and his leather-jacketed self sat down on the chair beside me.

 

"Mr Berryman, hello," Dr Jordan smiled, his little spectacles bouncing as he reached across the desk to shake Guy's hand.

 

"He didn't shake my hand," I thought bitterly.

 

"Maybe he doesn't touch the crazy people.." I pondered.

 

"Or perhaps he fancies Guy!" I could have laughed. Trying in vain to not smile to myself creepily.

 

They already think I'm insane enough without randomly bursting out laughing.

 

Looking up from my lap, my heart almost jumped out of my chest as I realised Dr Jordan and Guy were both looking at me patiently.

 

"What?" I said slowly, my wide eyes darting back and forth between the two.

 

"Could you please wait outside while I speak to Mr Berryman for a moment," Harrison said gently.

 

Yes. That's right. I called him Harrison.

I'm on first name bases with my psychologist.

 

"What? No." I frowned. I wanted to hear every damn word he said about me.

 

"It will only be for a moment Jonny," he replied.*

 

Maybe the reason why I haven't gotten any better is because my psychologist is a dickhead?

 

"No." I said defiantly.*

 

Guy placed his hand on my arm and leaned in, "I left your coffee and muffins on the table in the waiting room," he said tenderly, "Go on,

 

I sighed deeply, but his big brown eyes were looking at me carefully, so I stood up and shuffled out of the room, tempted to dramatically slam the door.

 

But I didn't, closing it quietly.

 

Well at least I had my coffee and muffins.

 

That was at least something.

 

 

***(Guy's PoV)***

 

"So, Mr Berryman," the little doctor on the other side of the desk began.

 

I would have told him he could call me Guy.

 

But I rather liked the way his strange accent said my name.

 

"I've been in touch with the clinic, and I have to say," he clasped his hands on the desk, "I agree, I do believe that a sleep clinic would be the next step,"

 

I nodded solemnly.

 

As much as I hated to admit it, I agreed.

 

But I didn't like thought of it.

 

As a matter of fact, I was repulsed by the thought.

 

"As you probably know, there isn't really much we can for for him at the moment,"

 

I narrowed my eyes slowly, "What are you saying?"

 

The doctor pursed his thin lips and rubbed his chin, "I mean, there hasn't been much studies done on cases like this, so we...we aren't exactly sure how to go about it,"

 

"So you're basically saying you have no bloody clue what to do," I was trying my best to not snap at him.

 

Trained doctor and psychologist my ass.

 

They probably pulled him up off the streets and paid him to spurt nonsense at people for lots of money.

 

"No that isn't what I'm saying. I just mean there isn't a lot we can do for the time being. So what I'm suggesting is to keep him occupied for the six weeks until the clinic. Then we will run some more tests, but I would keep a tight eye on him,"

 

"Frustration and depression are a horrible combination," he advised, "They are capable of causing people to do all sorts of things,"

 

I wasn't sure what he meant by that but I didn't the the sound of it.

 

I frowned in thought as I nodded.

 

"All right," I said warily.

 

"It's been a pleasure speaking to you Mr Berryman," the doctor smiled as he reached across the desk and shook my hand yet again.

 

"I am sorry for the inconvenience, but I just wanted to go over that, you both can leave now, let Jonny know I will see him at the usual time next week," he smiled placidly.

 

"I will," I replied before managing a smile and shuffling out of the painfully quiet room and down to the -still painfully quiet, but a little more comfortable- waiting room that currently held my best friend and his half empty coffee cup captive.

 

"Finally," he grumbled as I strolled towards him with a smile.

 

"I was only in there for ten minutes," I said innocently.

 

"Right, what did he say?"

 

"We're busting out of here, my dear," I quipped with a wink. Jonny gave me a glare but followed me out into the parking lot.

 

"Tell me what he said," he complained as I took a moment struggling to unlock the car.

 

"Ever heard of a thing called patient confidentiality?" I chuckled as I flung open the creaky door and threw myself onto the dusty drivers seat.

 

He was still glaring at me when he buckled his seatbelt after closing his side of the car door.

 

He was still glaring at me when we had started up the engine and were driving off.

 

"It wasn't even anything important," I eventually said. "Nothing you haven't heard already,"

 

"You're lying," Jonny snapped, "I can tell.

You're lying to me and he's sending me away somewhere,"

 

I took a deep breath, carefully keeping my eyes on the road.

 

He could certainly be paranoid sometimes.

Which can be hard to deal with.

 

I knew I was the person he trusted the most in the world, but I also knew that this was tearing his mind apart so he couldn't even fully trust me.

 

"Of course I'm not lying to you," I said gently, "He wanted to talk about the clinic and the classes. Nothing new,"

 

That seemed to have settled him slightly, but he was still sulking it seemed.

 

"I just have to go in here for a few things," I said after five quiet minutes, pulling into a parking space.

 

"I'll only be a second," I hopped out and closed the door tightly.

 

At the back of my head I knew I should probably lock the door or something.

 

But I didn't want to insult him or make things worse.

 

So I didn't.

 

 

 

[RowanMarie]

edited

[ColdplayPenguin]

Twisted Logic

 

Chapter 23

 

 

 

 

 

 

I couldn't have been more grateful for the first little rays of light peaking through our window.

 

It was far too early in the morning for it to be sunlight, but one of the buildings near our building had switched on its lights and illuminated the surrounding area with its artificial glow.

 

I sighed with relief, my eyes firmly fixed to the window.

 

If this stranger wanted to watch us again, I would be ready this time.

 

Chris would certainly make a terrible security guard and amiss to his assurances that he would watch the window while I slept, he was fast asleep half an hour later.

 

Not that I was planning on sleeping anyway.

 

Two sets of eyes on this predator was better than one!

 

So I had managed to scrape together around two hours of sleep and I could barely hold my heavy eyelids upwards, but from what I can tell, the person did not return.

 

An unidentifiable period of time later I felt Chris stir from beside my shoulder, he mumbled quietly in his sleep for a few minutes before he exhaled deeply and followed me into the dark land of consciousness.

 

"Good morning," he mumbled sleepily, no doubt that sleepy smile on his face.

He had always been more of a morning person than me.

 

Although that wouldn't be hard at all.

 

Anytime before 12pm, I am literally the most difficult person to be around.

Though judging by the darkness, I didn't particularly know what time it was at all.

 

"Have you gotten any sleep yet?" he asked softly as he stretched and pulled the blankets further up.

 

"Not really," I shrugged, "I'm watching,"

 

"Oh yeah," Chris recalled the mysterious figure at the window the previous night, "I'm sorry, I must have dozed off,"

 

"Don't be, it's okay,"*

 

He ruffled my hair, that was getting rather long and scruffy if I must say so myself, "Go to sleep now, I promise you I'll watch," he said gently, swirling little strands of my hair around his finger and unwinding it again.

 

"I'm fine," I lied, "I probably won't be able to sleep anyway,"*

 

Chris scoffed, "That I don't believe, just close your eyes-" and everything he said or did after that I don't remember as the second my eyelids touched, I fell fast asleep.

 

I did actually manage to get another two hours after that, so at least I could half function for the day, plus the sun was starting to rise so that was a start.

 

"Where are you going?" I asked Chris as he started to get up.

 

"What do you think I'm doing?" he laughed, "I'm getting the bath of water, like I do every morning,"

 

"Don't-" I faltered nervously, tugging a bit at his sleeve, "That person could still be out there,"

 

"Well if that's the case I can always hit them over the head with the bath," he teased with a grin as he wound his scarf around his neck.

 

"Chris, no," I couldn't seem to get the words out appropriately, "J-Just stay here,"

 

Chris studied my face for a moment.

Until his eyes flickered with understanding.

And a small smile skimmed across his lips.

 

"Are you afraid to be by yourself by any chance?" he tilted his head to the side slightly.

 

"I- of course not," I stuttered, becoming increasingly flustered as he watched me fumbling with my words with a fond smile.

 

"Oh come on you," he cooed, grabbing my hand and pulling me upwards, "You can come with me,"

 

This of course did nothing but increase my already embarrassed state, but nonetheless I allowed him to trail me by the hand out into the snow filled street.

 

I leaned against the wall as Chris filled the bath, looking around our surroundings for a distraction and hoping the cold air would cool my face, something caught my eye right beside my foot.

 

"Chris-" I said slowly, "Come over here for a second,"

 

"What is it?" he yelled back, his voice slightly distanced, as he jogged towards me and followed my gaze to the ground.

 

"Holy cow-" he breathed as he recognised what I had, "Where in the hell did that come from?"

 

I slowly knelt down and picked up the strategically placed ten dollar note from the ground.

 

"I have absolutely no idea..." I stared down at it, "No one would be around here, it is a rundown building in a backstreet of New York, there isn't going to be flocks of people around to drop their money left right and sideways,"

 

"It probably got caught in the wind or something," Chris shrugged, "It's fully possible,"

 

"-And land straight at our feet? Chris that just isn't possible,"

 

"Maybe it's a ghooost..." Chris wailed, wiggling his fingers comically in my face, laughing.

 

I shoved his hands away frowning, "This could have been from the person that was watching us last night,"

 

"I highly doubt that," Chris shrugged it off, completely unfazed, "You're just being paranoid,"

 

"This is strange! Why can't you see that!?"

 

"Whether or not this money is via a creature from beyond the beyond or our own personal stalker, we are ten dollars richer than yesterday and I'm pretty damn chuffed about that," he poked me playfully in the tummy as he bounced back to what he was doing.

 

I folded my arms huffily and sulked as I leaned against the wall waiting for Chris.

 

Something was off and I was determined to find out what it was.

 

--------

 

"I still think you're overreacting," Chris told me as he leaned over the side of a very large skip.

 

"I still think you're underreacting," I sniped back at him childishly as I leant with my back against said skip.

 

There was no hope in hell of me going up there as well.

 

So as usual, I watched him sort through thrown-away things.

 

"You wouldn't be so flippant if you had have woke up to find someone staring at you," I snapped back, although as he could barely hear me from the skip, I was basically yapping to myself.

 

"I'm not talking about that," he droned, "I get why you're so freaked out about it, I am too,"

 

"I'm not freaked out," I mumbled stubbornly under my breath.

 

"I'm talking about why you're so suspicious. People drop money all the time,"

 

"Not around backstreets near abandoned rooms. Not right at our doorstep,"

 

"-Window step actually," Chris corrected and I could hear his muffled voice chuckling.

 

I narrowed my eyes and glared at the ground, mumbling irritably to myself.

 

"Just let it go already," Chris' head popped up beside the rim of the skip above me, "If this stalker is dropping money for us I'm sure it's nothing to worry about,"

 

"Fine then, whatever," I replied in a voice that said otherwise.

 

"Oh don't be like that," he rolled his eyes and hopped down with a black plastic bag full of his pickings.

 

"I'm not being like anything," I snapped, but he looked at me carefully.

 

"Are you feeling okay?"

 

"I'm feeling fine, let's just go home already," I trudging begrudgingly ahead of him as he trailed behind me.

 

As I flopped down on the blankets, Chris struggled with the heavy bag at the window, I watched him helplessly.

 

"You could give me a hand with this you know," he called, attempting to shove it through the small space.

 

I wanted to help him but I'm not sure my body did.

 

I walked over to where he was and wrapped my hands around the plastic and pulled.

 

But it felt like there was no strength in my muscles, I tugged harder, but it didn't move.

 

With one final push from Chris, it fell through.

 

"I could have gotten more help from that pillow than for you," he breathed deeply with a hint of humour, his cheeks red with effort.

 

"Sorry," I said quietly, walking back to the blankets and lying down.

 

This lack of sleep thing was really getting to me.

 

"You okay?" Chris asked softly as he knelt beside me, sorting through the bag to see what we had gathered.

 

"You're looking a little peaky,"

 

I twisted my mouth to the side and watched his blue eyes carefully.

 

"I'm just tired, that's all," I said quietly.

 

"Well you should sleep after we eat," he said, taking out some cans and stuff from the bag.

 

I took the bowl of stuff he handed me and began to eat it. Although it tasted weird and my stomach didn't seem to fond of it either.

 

I pushed the remainder of the bowl aside and laid down on the pillow, pulling the duvet over my shoulders as I attempted to sleep away the day.

 

 

The warm, dark view of the inside of my eyelids was soon cut short by a skinny hand shaking my shoulder.

 

I guessed I had managed to get at least seven hours of sleep as it was now dark and the candles had been lit.

 

The urgent hissing of, "Jonny," immediately made me convinced that the predator has returned and I bolted upright, ready to defend our territory as an animal in the wilderness would.

 

"What is it?" I said slowly, watching carefully at the window.

But no one was there.

 

Fear was alit in Chris' eyes as he watched me, but it wasn't for the reason that I had expected.

 

"You're okay," he breathed a sigh of relief, his face lit a gentle orange in the glow of the candle, "Your breathing had went all funny,"

 

"How do you mean?"

 

"I-I don't know," he rubbed nervously at the back of his neck, "I was really scared,"

 

"It's probably nothing," I replied in what I think was a convinced tone.

 

"Yeah," he nodded slowly, "I certainly hope so,"*

 

"I think I'll go back to sleep," I yawned tiredly, fatigue already creeping into my body.

 

"You're still tired?" he asked in an incredulous tone, I simply shrugged in return and laid back down, staring up at him.

 

"Hmmm, well goodnight then," he smiled with a raised eyebrow.

 

Later that day I found I still couldn't shake that tired feeling. Which Chris put down to my unwillingness to help.

 

"I told you before, I've got a splitting headache," I complained, rubbing both sides of my aching temples.

 

Chris stopped what he was doing and turned to me with both hands on his hips and a menacing look on his face.

 

But it softened slightly as he watched me.

 

"You are looking a little pasty," he walked towards me and put a warm hand on my forehead, "You're not burning up, but maybe you're coming down with something,"

 

"I don't feel sick, I just feel really tired," my voice almost cracked a little bit at the end of the sentence. But the truth was, I just felt completely worn out.

 

"I'm sorry," he said softly, pulling me into a hug, "Let's just get you home to rest,"

 

I agreed and he fussed over me for the rest of the evening. Even though I wasn't feeling particularly sick, my head was pounding and I felt exhausted.

 

I was starting to wonder myself whether there was something wrong with me as when Chris left for his night patrol of illegal acts, consisting of stealing from the stores that were closed for the holiday break, I found myself becoming increasingly short of breath.

 

This didn't seem to help as just when I found myself drifting into a wonderful land of slumber, I saw a flash of a figure across the window, and just like that, it was gone.

 

-------

 

"It was back again last night," I told Chris that morning, "The person. It was back, I saw it,"

 

"Seriously!?" Chris sounded more intrigued that irked, "Did you see who it was?"

 

"No it was gone before I got a chance," I sighed, as I readjusted the duvet around my shivering body.

 

"You're awfully pale today," Chris frowned as he knelt down beside me, "Are you feeling okay?"

 

"I still feel tired," I toyed with a thread on his frayed jeans, Chris looked at me with sad sympathic eyes.

 

"Maybe you need to visit the doctors," he ran a hand through my hair.

 

"Chris we couldn't afford it, we can't afford it. We can barely manage already,"

 

"Suppose it's something bad," he frowned at me using a sharp tone, "Then what? I'm not having you get sick. I won't allow it," I smiled at him weakly.

 

"I'm sure I'll be okay, it's probably just a bug,"

 

"I'm not taking any risks," he said forcibly, "You need to get checked out,"

 

"We have no money. It just isn't possible,"

 

The look of sheer determination in Chris' eyes made an unsettling feeling lie in the pit of my stomach.

 

"I'll find a way,"

 

--------

 

"I'm not sure about this," I frowned as Chris finished reciting his plan again, "We are likely to get caught,"

 

"Not if we do it quickly," Chris crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the rickety wall of the inside of our building.

 

"I won't be able to run very fast," I reminded him, inhaling a short breath.

 

"You won't need to, I just need you to keep a look out,"

 

"Chris this isn't a good idea, you are going to get into trouble. It's not worth it," I tried to convince him, although very weakly. I could barely sit up.

It felt like every ounce of energy had been sucked out of me with a huge vacuum.

 

"It's not as though I'm arranging a full scale bank robbery now am I? All I'm saying is one little shop, just to tide us over and get you checked out,"

 

"I'm not having you go to prison over the sake of me," I cried, "No, and that's it,"

 

"Then I'll go myself," Chris stared at me hard, I knew there was no reasoning with him when he had his mind set on something.

 

I sighed in defeat.

 

There was more of a chance of him being caught if he was alone, so I gave in and agreed to go.

 

Later that day, when the sky had darkened and the shops were closing.

All apart for the 24hr ones and the nightlife, Chris and I wrapped up and headed out.

 

The holiday music was still blaring and the white streets were illuminated with the flashing colours of red and green.

 

Chris had chosen his target quite precisely.

 

It was an old ornament job that had been on his block from the beginning of time.

 

He remembered one of his old coworker's grandmother owned it and how she was always complaining that one day her grandmother was going to get robbed.

 

As she had no security system in place.

 

This made it an easy target.

 

I was faintly worried that Chris would feel guilty for robbing off a little old lady, but when I asked him he didn't seem bothered.

 

"It's not as though we're stealing because we enjoy taking from others, is it?" he shrugged, "People do bad things when they're desperate,"

 

I still felt a little guilty for it.

 

But I also had lost most of my faith in humanity so then again, what harm could it do?

 

I wrapped my scarf around my neck tightly, the vicious headache I was suffering from still present and sucking the life out of me.

 

Chris gave me a random fist bump as we approached the block.

The snow was coming down gently and in the dark light of the small backstreet, it was unlikely that anyone would notice us.

 

As we rounded the corner and arrived at the small shop, the lights had been turned off and it was clear it had been closed, Chris pulled the collar of his trench coat up and ducked his head as we approached.

 

Going over the plan in my head again, Chris nodded subtly to me and we went our separate ways, Chris going around the side, and me heading inconspicuously ahead, only to join him around the back where I kept watch.

 

Quickly and efficiently, Chris grabbed a small stone from the ground and smashed the side windows, it could hardly be heard from the muffled sounds of city life as the tiny shards of glass hit the snow.

 

Chris carefully crawled through the window and turned to help me through as I stumbled onto the wooden floor beside him.

 

The entire room was dark apart from the moonlight shining through the side window, illuminating a table filled with ugly Chinese porcelain plates.

 

"Go watch out front and I'll search for the till," Chris whispered as he felt around in the dark.

 

I silently did as asked and walked into the shop floor, carefully dodging in and out of the tables stacked with fragile objects.

 

I was the last person on this earth that should be allowed in an ornament shop.

 

I was likely to trip and break everything.

 

But surprisingly I was going okay under the pressure presented, although that didn't account for my racing pulse.

 

As I carefully kept watch at the door, something caught my eye at one of the side windows.

 

At first I thought I was being paranoid.

It was too dark to see anything anyway,

I saw the flicker of a human being at the window and as quick as my eyes laid upon it, it was gone.

 

And heading towards the back where Chris was.

 

My heart literally lurched as I sprinted for the back room, narrowly avoiding the tables as I heard the loud smash of an ornament being broke from the other room.

 

As my knees went weak, I realised that this other person had made it into the room before me.

 

 

 

 

[RowanMarie]

Rapture: A Bioshock/Coldplay Crossover

 

Chapter Three

 

The Voice

 

 

 

 

 

 

Phil frantically looked around the pod, searching for the source of the voice.

 

"Pick up the damn radio, ya nit-wit!"

 

Phil then noticed said device, mounted on the left-hand side of the wall. He picked it up, making note that the radio had been tampered with, and converted to a more portable state, almost resembling that of a telephone, only with no wire.

 

"Hello?" he spoke into the receiver, "Wh-who is this?"

 

"I could ask you the bloody same thing." the male voice replied, "What are you doing here?"

 

"Um," Phil swallowed, "I'm not quite sure how I got here, b-but I had woken up in front of this lighthouse-"

 

"Fuckin' hell, so you decided to come down here?!" the man exclaimed, "Jesus."

 

"Th-there was nowhere else to go." Phil added, "I was completely stranded."

 

"All right dumbass, I get where you're comin' from."

 

"You do?" Phil asked, slightly relieved.

 

"Yeah. Now, listen real close."

 

Phil had the radio mashed against his ear, waiting for the stranger to continue.

 

"Go to the lever in the center of your little Bathysphere."

 

Phil looked behind him at the lever that brought him to this place, "Okay." he replied, walking to the middle of the pod.

 

"Now, do you remember how you got over here?" the man asked.

 

"Yes." answered Phil.

 

"Great, now pull that lever, and get the fuck out."

 

Phil's heart sunk at the man's cold words, "But there was nothing out there. I wouldn't be found for days!"

 

"Exactly, I'm giving you the greatest gift of all;" the man dryly replied, "Mercy."

 

"Right, to die out in the sun of hunger and thirst, that's real merciful, all right." Phil says acidly.

 

"And yet, it's still a kinder fate than the one that awaits you here."

 

"Please," Phil begged, "just help me."

 

The other man went silent, possibly contemplating his options, " Tell me, dumbass, how many other poor bastards do you have in there with you?"

 

"It's just me." Phil eagerly answered, afraid that if he took too long to reply, the man would just leave altogether.

 

"I can try and send out a distress signal, or even reprogram the Bathysphere to take you to the nearest shoreline." the man said, "But it's gonna take some time."

 

"I don't care, I'll wait no matter how long it takes."

 

"you didn't let me finish." the man adds, gravely, "You can't stay there."

 

Phil blinked in confusion, "Alright, so what's the problem?"

 

"You're gonna have to go out there, and find some shelter."

 

Peering out the window into the murky darkness, Phil shivers with dread, "can't I just stay in here?" he asks, his voice small.

 

"Do you have food?" the man asks, "Or, how about water? You're gonna need that, too. And a medical kit, you're really gonna need that down here."

 

"Alright, fine." he mutters in defeat. "I get the point."

 

"I don't think you do." the man sadly replies. "But I will assist you as best as I can. God knows why I bother, but I'll try."

 

The line is dead for several nerve wracking seconds, causing Phil to believe the man had ditched him.

 

"Righty then," the man says loudly, as something rustles in the background of the static, "I'm ready when you are."

 

"What do I do?" Phil asks, completely lost.

 

"Firstly, the base of that radio you're talking into should have a set of straps on the back of it." the man went on, "take it with you so I'll always have a way to reach you."

 

Phil did as he was told, slipping the stiff, leather straps over his shoulders. He kept the radio's receiver firmly in his hand. "Okay," he says, now what?"

 

"Do you see anything of use left in the 'sphere?"

 

Phil did a good once-over of his surroundings, "Nope, that's it."

 

"Right, go to pod door."

 

Phil stepped in front of said entryway, and waited for the strangers further instructions.

 

"Open the door." the voice commanded.

 

Anxious and terrified of the new, and presumably dangerous, world ahead of him, Phil did as he was told.

 

 

 

[ColdplayPenguin]

Twisted Logic

 

Chapter 24

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Chris!!" I cried as I collapsed to my knees beside the unconscious body lying on the floor.

 

But to my complete and utter surprise, as I looked up, my eyes were set upon a pair of large and scared blue eyes.

 

"C-Chris?" I uttered, completely confused.

 

I slowly stood up, forgetting about the person on the floor, and grabbed his arm, pulling him into a relieved hug, before punching him on that same arm.

 

"I thought that was you for god's sake!!"*

 

He shook his head quickly, his body visibly trembling.

 

"No, but it looks as though we've caught our stalker,"

 

I stared down at the lump of human by our feet.

 

"So...what exactly are we going to do then?" Chris said slowly.

 

"Who is that?" I asked, Chris shrugged, "I don't know. I hit him over the head with that vase before he got a chance to speak,"

 

I shook my head in disbelief. Although I didn't blame him, we simply couldn't get caught. Even by our own stalker.

 

I never would have thought when I had first met Chris on the opposite side of the window I was washing, that I would end up homeless and committing illegal acts with him.

 

We had certainly hit a new low.

 

But that was just life I guess, you couldn't plan what route you'd take.

 

"I'm going to find the till, check his pulse," and with that, the usually timid being set off into the front room in search of the till.

 

This was a situation beyond something I could comprehend.

 

I knelt down and thankfully found a pulse.

 

As Chris returned with a small bag of money, he dusted down with a rag in his pocket anywhere where we could have touched, so no fingerprints could be found.

 

"What the hell are we going to do with him?" I frowned, "We can't just leave him here,"

 

"Are you feeling up to much?" Chris asked me randomly.

 

"Not really," I answered honestly.

 

"Well, here you go," he said, handing me the bag of money, before he knelt down and scooped the person into his arms, swinging him over his shoulder with his eyebrows knitted together in strain, "Let's get going,"

 

How we managed to get back to the room without being noticed was beyond me.

 

After all, if you noticed two guys, one carrying a small sack and the other with an unconscious body swung over their shoulder, you'd probably be a little inquisitive.

 

But we didn't run into anyone as we stuck to the back streets and deserted alleyways.

 

Clearly luck was on our side as we flopped into the room, dusting off our snow covered clothing, I took into account how bizarre our evening had been.

 

I'm sure if Biscuit was still alive he would have never allowed such atrocities to happen.

 

But desperate times call for desperate measures.

 

I still couldn't quite come to terms at how Chris, the person whom I had known to be kind and gentle, who looked after me when I was sick, who took me in when I was out of a house, who basically helped me out whenever I needed it, could be capable of wallopping someone over the head with a vase.

 

Of course I wasn't against it or anything.

 

In reterospect, he had even done that for me, because if we had have got caught, we wouldn't have the money and I couldn't get better.

 

I was just shocked.

 

It was more along the likelihood of me hitting someone over the head rather than him, after all, I had hit Mr Champion in the face before.

 

It just surprised me how Chris would also do the same for me.

 

It was almost comforting.

 

We certainly made a good team.

 

But right now, we had an unconscious stalker to deal with.

 

Chris laid the person on the blankets in the corner, propping him up with pillows as he groped around for the matches.

 

I tossed them to him and he lit a couple of candles, giving us a better view of the person we had successfully walloped out of consciousness.

 

I knew that later, when the adrenaline had wore off, I would definitely feel guilty.

 

But for now, I was too high on excitement and fear to feel such emotions.

 

I carefully examined the man lying peacefully on the ground beside us.

 

Thankfully the vase hadn't caused him any wounds or scratches.

 

He was quite pale, with a sleek jawline and dark stubble.

 

It gave him an edgy look that accompanied the dark suit he was wearing, with the first button on his white shirt undone and his thick head of dark hair ruffled.

 

He was quite handsome.

 

So why the hell he was spending his time stalking us, was beyond me.

 

"Maybe Mr Champion has hired him to follow us," Chris mused as he watched him.

 

"I doubt he would even so much as care about what we are doing, I bet he hasn't even had a second thought about us,"

 

"That's certainly true," Chris nodded, but I could already see the adrenaline wearing off on him, he turned to me with large, frightened eyes.

 

"What if he doesn't wake up?"

 

"Of course he will," I rubbed his arm a bit, "-And when he does, he has a lot to answer to,"

 

"That he does," Chris agreed, he scooted back a bit from the man and tipped open his sack, pouring the notes and coins onto the ground.

 

"Fifty three dollars and twenty five cents," Chris looked up and smiled at me when he had finished counting.

 

"I told you I was going to make you better," he smiled softly, "Tomorrow, I promise, you will go to the doctors and get better,"

 

"Thank you," I said weakly, I wanted nothing more than to sleep right now, but as this unconscious man was lying in my spot, I couldn't.

 

I grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze, "Honestly, thank you,"

 

He shook his head, "I only want you to be healthy,"

 

I couldn't quite tell Chris how much I appreciated this.

 

He had gone to the trouble of robbing a store and knocking a man unconscious to find out why I was ill.

 

I had never felt more grateful in my entire life.

 

But my body was giving way to fatigue, so I laid down on the small space on the ground and closed my tired eyes.

 

I felt the texture of the hard, cold floor replaced by a soft cushiony thigh as Chris lifted my head to rest on his leg.

 

My breathing had gone to hell, but I smiled tiredly.

 

Despite everything that had happened, I still had something no money on this earth could buy.

 

I had happiness.

 

 

--------

 

 

I blinked several times through the cloudiness of confusion.

 

From across the space I was lying on, a koala bear was calling out to me while hovering across the room.

 

I watched from my comfortable position floating on the soft cloud as the koala bear's voice grew louder.

 

"Jonny!!" it was hissing.

 

As I blinked again, the wonderful view of the strange land behind my eyelids faded back into the depth of my subconscious and I opened my eyes to find Chris quietly calling my name.

 

"Hmmm, what?" I mumbled, quite clearly disorientated.

 

"Look," he whispered.

 

I vaguely wondered what the hell he was talking about, but as my mind was still floating on clouds and talking to koala bears, I lifted myself up with my elbows and looked around.

 

From a few feet away, across the achingly small room, the man we had kind-of kidnapped was awakening.

 

I watched with now wide awake and alert eyes as he blinked slowly, rubbing his eyes and then the back of his head as he stretched into a sitting position.

 

Almost jumping out of his own skin probably at turning and finding two large and frightened sets of blue and green eyes, staring intently at him as he woke up.

 

"What in the hell..." he whispered under his breath, and to my surprise it wasn't an overly American sounding accent either.

 

Well this was certainly a shocker.

 

Out of the whole vast majority of people in America, the only two people that have anything to do with me, -apart from Pablo- were British.

 

And I suppose this person isn't really associated with me anyway.

 

Although he has been stalking us.

 

Which could perhaps count.

 

As a million questions roamed my head, what does he want? Is he going to freak out? Is he going to call the police? Is he going to kill us? Is he related to one of us? I shut them all out for a second and stared at him.

 

"Hello," Chris surprised me by saying, I turned to face him with an expression of, well you guessed it, surprise.

 

If it was me, I would have gone into the whole, "Who are you and what do you want?!" malarkey.

 

He leaned closer, frowning deeply, probably in pain from his blow to the head, and stared at us with dark brown eyes.

 

"What happened?" he asked slowly, almost as though he was trying to fix the puzzle together in his mind.

 

"You've been stalking us," I spoke out, "Why have you been watching us?!"

 

He turned his gaze to me, still a hand at the back of his head, "That's a good question," he croaked, "Why did you hit me over the head?"

 

I raised my hands up in innocence, "Wasn't me,"

 

Chris shot me a quick glare and nudged me with his bony elbow, before turning back to the man, "I-I had every right. You've been stalking us,"

 

"I'm not going to turn you in or anything. I know you've been stealing. I know everything,"

 

Something about him sent unsettling chills down my spine.

 

"I want you out of here," I quickly demanded, "Now,"

 

He raised his hands and stumbled to his feet, "As a matter of fact, I came here with a proposition,"*

 

As I heard his accent more clearly, I could hear a faint Scottish tinge to it.

 

"What?" I frowned, "What could you want from us?"

 

"But clearly you don't want to hear what I have to stay so I'll be on my way-" he made his way to the door. I knew exactly what he wanted, he wanted to be in control of the situation. For us to go after him.

 

Despite my reasonings, I wanted to hear what he had to say, "Wait- don't go,"

 

He turned around with a smug smile. He was probably used to getting everything he wanted judging by his expensive looking suit.

 

"I thought you might be interested,"

 

"What do you want?" Chris crossed his arms.

 

The man took a deep breath and stuck out his hand, "My name's Guy Berryman, and I am here with a great opportunity for you both,"

 

----------

 

I tentatively shook his hand, eyeing him as though he was like one of those venomous snakes that look pretty cute but could flip and bite you and kill you in an instant.

 

"What is this opportunity then...Guy...and why us?"

 

"Who else am I to ask?" he laughed, "You really don't understand,"

 

"How are we supposed to understand when you're speaking in riddles," I snapped, Chris gave me a look that made me bite my tongue from speaking further.

 

"What is it?" he spoke more softly than me.

 

My head was already aching and I had only been awake for a couple of minutes.

 

"I want you two to take part in a little experiment of mine," I think I instantly frowned at his words.

 

"-I want you two to be a part of my documentary. The stars if you will. I want to make a documentary of how I have helped two poor homeless people, make their way in the world. You see, I'm a filmmaker, a rather good one at that," he chuckled dryly.

 

"-And I can see great potential in this, I can see it now," he waved his hands around wondrously, "I can see your names lit up in bright flashing lights like all of the great celebrities, I can see the whole of New York knowing your names-"

 

"-I can see you leaving out that damn window," I interrupted, "I think you're freaking crazy,"

 

"I am," he laughed, "But it's my craziness that's made me this successful. That and my wondrous m ability to manipulate,"

 

I stared at him in disbelief, I turned to Chris for a second and I could see that he was also in a dumbfounded state.

 

"I can make you two known. Think of all the opportunities this will bring to you. Once you get your name on the map, the doors that will open will be astounding," he turned to Chris with wide eyes, I started to wonder if the blow to his head had made him this delusional or whether he was naturally like this, "You could become a singer! Like you've always wanted-"

 

"How do you know that?" Chris said quietly, quite evidently afraid.

 

"You could find your long lost brother," he told me with manic eyes, "You both could be rich beyond your wildest dreams. If you let me help you, of course,"

 

I didn't trust him.

 

I didn't trust him as far as I could throw him.

 

And in my weakened state, that wouldn't be that far.

 

"What- what would we have to do?" Chris asked him, I could see the cogwheels turning wildly behind his uncharacteristically serene eyes, and I couldn't believe he was even considering it!

 

This man was a hoax!

 

A fraud!

 

A crazy one at that.

 

"Well, if you allow me and my camera crew to get a couple of days footage, you know, of all the poor, sad homeless stuff, then we whisk it away to be edited, and I will find you both a nice place to stay while the dollars roll in. I could be like your manager if you will,"

 

I could barely believe my ears.

 

It was madness!!

 

Complete and utter insanity!!

 

"What makes you so sure it would be a hit? What makes you so sure we will get all of these opportunities you're talking about?" Chris asked.

 

"I have been working for the media -for the public, for many years. I know what works and what doesn't. And let's face it, the public today would just love a sob story-"

 

"-Now who do you think you are?!" I suddenly snapped, "-Coming in here and making fun of us. I've had enough. This is our lives, not one of your stupid movies,"

 

"Hey, I'm not making fun of it," he raised his hands in defence, "I've been watching, I know how it must suck,"

 

"You're manipulating us, that's what you're doing!"

 

"I am on your side remember, I want to help you," I couldn't tell if his tone was sincere or whether he'd spent enough time around actors and directors to know how to fake something professionally.

 

"So what's in it for you, eh? What do you get out of this?" I frowned.

 

He laughed, "There's always an ulterior motive isn't there?" he paused for a second, mulling over his words carefully.

 

"I suppose you've got me on that. Of course there has to be something in it for me,"*

 

I knew it.

 

I knew he wasn't doing this as selflessly as he was making it out to be.

 

I watched him through carefully narrowed eyes as he begun to explain.

 

"Can you imagine all of the credit I'll get for this?" he looked at us both in turn.

 

"Honestly, imagine it. Me, a rich filmmaker, selflessly going out of my way to help two nobodys, it will make the front page of the newspapers for crying out loud!"

 

I clenched my jaw tightly and gave him a hard cold stare.

 

"I'm glad our situation can be of a profit to you then," I said sarcastically, "But I'd rather you leave. Right now,"

 

"Don't you want to be heard?" he suddenly spoke out, his voice loud in the silent room, "Don't you want a voice against the voices of power that are obscuring you? Don't you want to fight back?"

 

"How is you degrading us on your stupid documentary going to be fighting back?!" I cried.

 

"It will be making yourselves known!! Wouldn't you rather that than sit back here and be trampled over. To have to sort through other peoples trash to eat. Is that how you want to live for the rest of your lives?" he had me stumped there.

 

I remained silent.*

 

Chris remained silent.

 

Although I knew his mind was working frantically, absorbing every word he said. His optimism overshadowing reality. I knew he was going to agree.

 

But I was having none of it.

 

I wasn't going to be conned.

 

I didn't come to New York to be conned.

 

Although I didn't come to New York to be made homeless either.

 

"A couple of hours worth of footage. That's all," Guy said quietly, "Then you can say goodbye to this horrible lifestyle, and even if it doesn't work out, I will help you. I am not completely heartless you know? I'm not going to toss you back out to the streets, I will help,"

 

I really, really didn't want to believe what he was saying. I didn't know him. How could I trust him?

 

He made my skin crawl.

 

There was something about his sleek and sly ways that just made an impending feeling of doom settle within me.

 

"What do you say?" he raised his dark eyebrows, "Will you give it a go?"

 

Chris turned to me and was about to open his mouth, his eyes glittering like sparklers, "No," I answered for him.

 

Chris' mouth hung open, his eyebrows slowly creasing into a frown.

 

"No," I repeated louder, "I won't have it. I don't believe you. If this was a fairytale, then maybe, but this is real life,"

 

"You aren't hardly thinking of passing up an opportunity like this?" Chris said quietly to me. I knew he wouldn't yell at me to enforce his opinion, but I knew he'd look at me with those big, sad blue eyes.

 

"I'm passing up an opportunity of us being taken for mugs," I explained, only loud enough for him to hear.

 

"What have we got to lose?!" he said a little louder, his eyes blazing, "It's not as though we have anything,"

 

"Our dignity," I muttered under my breath.

 

Chris ignored me and turned to him, "We will definitely sleep on it,"

 

Guy nodded solemnly, "I completely understand," he looked back and forth between us with a kind expression, one that I guessed was completely fake, "I understand that this is a big decision, and I will be back in the morning to see what you decide," he smiled slightly with only one side of his mouth, and disappeared out the window and into the moonlit city like a phantom.

 

I stared at the glassless windowframe for several seconds after his departure.

 

Half-wondering if he would ever return.

 

Half-wondering what planet Chris was on.

 

And half-wondering what would happen if this man was actually onto something.

 

Although, last time I checked, there couldn't be three halves in a whole, so I suppose I was third-wondering.

 

But then again, I had more important things to think about than fractions.

 

-------

 

Later that same night, I was lying on the soft duvet, staring up at the dark ceiling above us, and thinking deeply.

 

Chris lay beside me, silent.

 

There was a thick air of tension between us and neither one of us had spoken this Guy's departure.

 

This seemed to be our first proper argument.

 

Sure, we bickered a lot, but it was all just playful. We never really had anything to fall out about before anyway.

 

There was enough problems in our lives without fighting over the trivial things.

 

And we just cared about each other too damn much to waste energy fighting.

 

It's not like I was angry with him or anything.

 

I couldn't say the same for him.

 

Although he didn't exactly seem angry.

 

It was the silence that was getting to me more.

 

I couldn't work out what he was thinking when he was quiet.

 

"Why are you so against this?" he sighed tiredly, I vaguely wondered when was the last time he had gotten any sleep.

 

I turned on my side to face him.

 

"It would be all and well if it was actually true, but can't you see that he is going is going to make a fool of us? I'm just trying to stop that from happening,"

 

"But what if he isn't?" Chris pleaded with me with his eyes, "What if he's right and we have passed down the biggest opportunity of our lives,"

 

"It's hardly a ticket to the golden globes, he wants us to be in his documentary,"

 

Chris sat up and ran a hand over his forehead, "But you heard him, it could open doors,"

 

"Trap doors," I sniped, looking up at him from my flat position on my back.

 

"Why are you so afraid to take a risk? Don't you want to jump into the deep end sometimes?" he said softly, his eyes patient.

 

"I don't exactly want to drown," I quipped, but he gave me a stare that basically told me he didn't care much for my flippant behaviour.

 

"Sometimes you've just got to take life by the scruff of the neck and give it a good shake," his eyes lit up brightly, "Even if we do get conned or whatever, at least we wouldn't have the inevitable doubt lying over our heads and a whole line of what-ifs,"

 

I ran a hand over my forehead in frustration.

 

I didn't want to take a risk.

 

I didn't want to jump into the deep end.

 

"What if..." I faltered for a moment, and debated with myself whether or not to continue, but Chris scooted down to face me, "I mean...like...what if everything changes after this?" I nibbled on my lip nervously, "What if everything is different, -bad different,"

 

Chris' expression turned into one of sympathy and relief, as he smiled gently.

 

"Nothing is going to change for the worst. At least not between us anyway," he nudged my arm with a grin, "We're still going to best friends, even if we are rich and famous," he winked at me comically, making me laugh slightly.

 

Even though I would never admit it, his words instantly made me feel a hundred times better.

 

"So that's what's gotten you worried?" he shook his head, "Why didn't you say something before? So I could shake those crazy thoughts from your head sooner,"*

 

I laughed weakly, "I don't know,"

 

Truth be told, I would far rather be homeless and still have Chris than to be rich and alone.

 

Although there was no guarantee that we would be rich, and I still didn't trust Guy, but Chris' words had lightened up my pessimistic view of the world slightly, and I was a little more willing to give it a go.

 

"I suppose we could try it, eh?" I smiled, "What have we got to lose?"*

 

Chris laughed and beamed widely, "That's the spirit! Oh I can't wait, this is going to be great!" he giggled, "Now we should seriously sleeping as you are going to the doctors tomorrow to get checked out,"

 

"All right then," I smiled, closing my eyes as I pulled the duvet around my shoulders.

 

As I drifted back into my dream land of clouds and koala bears, for the first time in a very long time, I actually felt some sort of hopefulness for the future.

 

--------

 

Symptoms of iron-deficiency anaemia:

 

 

- Tiredness

 

- Lethargy (lack of energy)

 

- Pale complexion

 

- Shortness of breath

 

- Headaches

 

- Pica

 

 

It was all there.

 

In black and white.

 

Or at least that's what Chris told me the leaflet had said.

 

I can't read so it could have been anything as far as I'm concerned, but I trust Chris and his reading skills.*

 

How I didn't realise it was beyond me.

 

That's why I haven't been feeling up to much, and why my head has been throbbing, and why I have had a completely irrational craving for ice and paper.

 

I thought it might have just been simply down to tiredness, but I was mistaken.

 

According to the doctor this morning, I was anaemic.

 

It certainly explained a lot.

 

It could have been expected taking into account our diets at the moment, but all in all, we left the doctors office with iron supplements and the money we'd robbed from the elderly lady spent for medical costs.

 

Saying as we weren't exactly paying taxes at the moment.

 

But when we returned to our room that morning, at around eleven o'clock, we found that we had a guest.

 

Strange, but true.

 

As in the corner of the room, his legs crossed under him and sipping on a polystyrene cup, was Guy.

 

"Hello," he smiled, "I bought you both a coffee,"

 

He signalled to the two other cups sitting on the floor, hesistatly, we walked towards him and took a cup, begtudgedly mumbling a thanks.

 

"Been to the pharmacy I see," he nodded to the little plastic bag in my hand.

 

I shrugged, "I'm anaemic apparently," I explained. Although why I was explaining myself to a complete strange was beyond me.

 

"That won't be the only disease you'll get if you keep living like this. It isn't healthy,"

 

Who did he think he was? My mother?

 

"I don't need your pointless advice thank you very much," I narrowed my eyes.

 

He ignored my bitchy statement completely and smiled widely, displaying all of his even and sparkling white teeth.

 

I vaguely wondered how much it had cost him to get them bleached that white.

 

"So have you had a think about my little proposition yet?"

 

Chris gave me a little hopeful and reassuring glance, "Yeah, we have,"

 

"-And?"

 

"...We'll do it," a slow smile made its way across his face, "We're on board,"

 

Guy's eyes lit up. Dollar signs probably dancing around his mind. He hopped up and shook both of our hands vigorously, "You won't regret it, I'm sure of it,"*

 

I still wasn't 100% sure, but my perception of him being a slimy, deceiving con-artist, was becoming a little less intense.

 

I still didn't trust him.

 

I still didn't like him.

 

But I was willing to give it a go.

 

After all, what did we have to lose?

 

 

 

 

[Aby_coldheart104]

Jonny's Day

(An One-shot)

This is my first finished fanfic by the way. :)

 

 

 

Fandom: Coldplay

Title: "Jonny's Day"

Rating: PG

Characters: Jonny, Chris, Will, Guy, and some Extras.

Summary: Where were they during the day they least expected?

Warning: Contains events from 9/11, and also the theme of death.

Author's notes: This fanfic has no intention to harm anyone. If this fic offense anyone, I deeply apologize.

Disclaimer: All character's belong to their respective owners.

 

http://strawberryowl96.livejournal.com/1216.html

 

[Aby_coldheart104]

Two Girls, One Xyloband

(An One-shot)

I'm currently bored. Tell me what you think of the fic.

 

 

 

Fandom: Coldplay

Title: "Two Girls, One Xyloband"

Rating: G

Characters: OC (not really)

Summary: What could happen when two close fans meet?

Author's notes: The following characters are based on other fanfics I read. So if you recognized them, sorry if I used them without permission. :(

Also, don't worry. Nothing weird happened here. :)

Disclaimer: All character's belong to their respective owners.

 

http://strawberryowl96.livejournal.com/941.html

 

 

[Jaytheblue]

The Zookeeper

 

Just a little something that has been sitting on my IPod for a while! I hope to see more fanfics soon!

 

 

Jonny cautiously stepped into the old office and sat on the rickety chair in front of his boss' desk- the one that badly needed to be replaced. It was filled to the brim with paperwork and leaned far too right for anybody's comfort. He looked up at the shiny bald head right in front of him.

 

"So I'm sure you'd like to know why the hell I've called you here, don't you?," Jon's leader, and close friend, Head Zookeeper Will (or just Will, depending on his mood) spoke.

 

"Well, yes, I suppose... I really hope I'm not getting laid off, I don't think I've done all too bad." Jonny replied, trying to smile through the nerves.

 

"No, no of course not, you're just fine. I was actually looking to talk to you about a new arrival that will be coming very shortly, a lion i believe. I know that you are specialized in large predators, so I am coming to you for a little, favour, I suppose."

 

"Oh please, specialized in 'large predators', it was one course and a very angry tiger, it did me no good besides teaching me the very basics!" Jonny exclaimed.

 

"I am very well aware of that also, Jon, but I know I can trust you in helping me." Will started, then lowered his tone a little, "plus, we don't have the budget to hire anyone better, so you're our best bet."

 

Jonny chuckled, "so this lion must be absolutely insane if you're calling on Mr. Buff-tamer-man-of-all-animals -in-the-universe."

 

Will smiled a little, but then went right back to business."You see, this lion is coming from a zoo in Wales. Its been having a hard time there, so the zoo decided it might need some 'rehabilitation' of sorts. They thought putting it in a larger enclosure with less human traffic could possibly benefit in some improvement in his condition."

 

"So they're putting it in a zoo in the middle of nowhere that has only around 10 people working on site at a regular basis? Sounds pretty rational...What does this have to do with me anyways?" Jonny questioned, while picking at his hat.

 

"Everything really. We need you to monitor this guy almost constantly for behavioral changes, and most importantly, get him back to par with the other lions in the zoo. The zoo is really pushing for a lot of one-on-one time. I'm also hoping that he'll be less anxious if the same person were to tend to most of his needs. Jon, you really need to gain this lion's trust, this is his last chance. After this, comes...."

 

Both of them new what would happen to the lion if his condition didn't improve, and as zookeepers and devout animal lovers, neither wanted to see it happen.

 

"What would happen to my other duties?" Jonny broke the short period of silence.

 

"We got a new employee, Guy, I think his name is. I he moved here from somewhere and needed a job, he's about our age and used to work at a zoo some other time in his life so we gladly took him. I'll make him take over your jobs. So, whaddaya say?"

 

"Even if I did say no, you would still make me do it wouldn't you?"

 

"Pretty much."

 

"Sure, I'm in for the challenge." Jonny finally agreed.

 

"I believe he arrives tomorrow , we already got his cage prepared, it's pretty massive, since we got all that extra room."

 

"I'll be there first thing in the morning Will." Jonny smiled. Somewhere, deep in his mind he'd always longed to be 'Mr. Not-so-buff-sorta-balding-Tarzan-that-is-pretty-good-with-some-type-of-animal, and hopefully this job would satisfy his fantasy.

 

-

 

"Down goes the gate, easy does it."

 

"Don't push too hard, no stunning."

 

"Place in some bait, get 'em walking."

 

Jonny peered through the gate of the new lion's chamber, quite apprehensive about his first encounter with the so-called beast. He had spent the whole night re-reading his notes from that one class, and watched multiple documentaries and TV series around the topic of wild cats. He was ready to encounter whatever this lion would throw at him.

 

Jonny imagined himself as a man with on one of the TV shows he watched, who lived with a pride of lions in Africa for 6 months or something like that. He was to crack the lions thick skull and be all ripped and such.

 

Besides giving him an exaggerated impression on what was going to be happening, the show did actually give him a bit of an idea. He was going to name the beast, like the man in the show did. Hopefully it would make him more comfortable. More like, an actual being. Although it barely made sense, Jonny at least felt like it have him comfort in what he was doing, so he figured, well, why not!

 

After everybody transporting the lion left, Will gave Jonny a small pep talk that went along the lines of, "I really don't care what you do just don't get anyone hurt," which Jonny had already assumed from before, but the small reminder from his mate didn't brother him much at all. In fact he probably needed it.

 

Jonny walked along the small concrete path with his head down. He didn't dare to go inside at first, he just wanted to observe him, to let the lion know he was there, and that he wasn't a danger. In other words, he was being a complete and utter lion stalker.

 

Jonny stopped at the very edge of the enclosure, his eyes searched for the lion, and it didn't take long to find him lying down not too far away from Jonny's station. His golden fur was matted to his body, showing his long, skinny frame. His head was on the ground, along with everything else. His tail was wrapped around his long body, and his mane was barely there. One thing, though, stood out from the animal the most, his deep blue eyes that were locked onto his figure. They didn't even seem like an animals, they held so much depth, so much sadness- did lions even have blue eyes?

 

Jonny shrugged it off, feeling bad for the animal. His eyes reflected a very powerful emotion, sadness.

 

Jonny and the lion spent the rest of the day that way, staring at each other, inspecting each and every twitch, breath and yawn. The animal intrigued Jonny very much, he must have been a rarity of the gene pool. A lion with blue eyes, what a feat. He should be the best of the best, the elite figure, the pride leader.

 

Jonny shook his thoughts off, it wasn't about what he should have been, it's about what he will be, what he will turn him into. He then decided it would be time to name the thing that had been staring at him for the whole day.

 

His mind drifted to the name for the worlds most famous depressed animal, and childhood favorite, Eeyore, but ditched it quickly. Jonny didn't want to name him after what he is, but what he was going to be, so he looked at the brighter side of the classic. Pooh seemed a little... Inappropriate, so Jon's mind drifted to the qualities that he thought would emerge in the animal once he regained his confidence.

 

The lion would be kind, cheerful, fun-loving, humble, like the real king of the jungle. All the lady-lions would love him, and his golden pelt. Most importantly, he and Jon would be the best of friends, the best a lion and human could get. Sure, he was going a little too far in that one, but he expected it none the less.

 

His mind ran back to the cartoon, and settled on the character with the same golden hair and brilliant personality that the wild cat would have, Christopher Robin. Jonny liked that name, he liked that name a whole lot, but it seemed too long for a lion, too hard to understand. Finally, Jonny settled for just 'Christopher,' he liked the way it rolled of his tongue, when he said it a couple of times to himself, and settled on the name.

 

"So you, I suppose you have a name now!" Jonny smiled, "how does Christopher sound to you?"

 

As expected, Christopher didn't flinch, not one bit. Although Jonny was sure he was just making it up for moral support, he thought, just thought, that he saw just a glimpse of approval in the lion's eyes, and that was all he needed to make the name a done-deal.

 

-

Jonny at Christopher stared at each other for the rest of the week, not ever moving once to do anything. They inspected each other from head to toe, and Jonny was sure that if he wasn't accustomed to him now, he would declare him a hopeless case.

 

Christopher didn't eat much, only picking at his meat and eating it in small intervals during the night. His activity was limited too, with him always laying down. He had already been inspected for any physical conditions much earlier, but the vets decided that all his problems were solely on mental health- depression, that's what it was.

 

Jonny finally quite hesitantly decided that it was time for him to take a walk into the cage and see how he would react. From Jonny's observations, Christopher wasn't hostile, but he had a bunch of stunners in his pocket as a last result. Hopefully Christopher would recognize that he wasn't hostile either.

 

Jonny slowly opened the creaking metal door to the enclosure and put a shaky foot in, then another. The brown-ish hair he had left (and that wasn't covered by his hat) flapped against the top of his face as his green eyes searched the wide plane. There, in his usual spot, beside an particularly English oak, sat Christopher. Head down, sulking as he looked at the floor.

 

Jonny took small steps until he was around five meters away from the lion. There was still no change in his behavior, not a little sign of alertness. Jonny was actually feeling quite confident that he may of made some progress by staring at him all day. "Hey, you remember me, I'm that guy who looks at you. You should know me by now." Jonny started, not quite knowing where he was going. "I've never talked to an animal before, and I really doubt you can understand me-but if you can that's cool too. I just want to let you know that we're friends. I know that you haven't given much consent to that, and you're probably pretty angry because I've given you a name, or something like that, but it looks like you really need a genuine friend. So, here I am."

 

Jonny sat down on the soft, grassy ground beneath him and did the same thing he did for the past week, stared. Christopher didn't do much besides turn his head Jonny's way, just to say he knew he was there. They stayed there for a bit, until Christopher decided to get up. At that moment in time Jonny almost went into overload, until the massive cat took a step back, and then another, and then another.

 

Christopher looked into Jonny's eyes and Jonny saw it again- that look- the feelings. He sat down once more, and put his head to the ground. That was when Jonny finally realized that Christopher was not out to get him, and that maybe he had gotten the message that he wasn't a threat.

 

Jonny also got the vibe that maybe Christopher wanted his space, so he decided not to go any closer to the depressed cat, but again Christopher wanted otherwise. He got up once more, and Jonny wasn't too sure how to react. Christopher walked towards him this time, oh so slowly. His ears were foreword and his body was not crouching in any way. He was not going for an attack.

 

Christopher got nearer, stopping in intervals, just like Jonny did when he entered the enclosure. Jonny smiled internally at the wiseness of the animal. He also realized the similarities, how they both were so afraid of each other being so harmful, and that maybe, well, neither of them were.

 

Christopher kept walking until he stopped right in front of Jonny, where he lay down once more. Jonny's heart raced as he tried to reason. Both stayed put, looking at each other, the outcast lion with blue eyes, and the raggedy zookeeper. The next move was Jonny's and it was probably the most idiotic of the day, he repositioned himself to be right beside the lion. They were two just-past-acquaintances sitting together like some type of man and animal duo. Christopher didn't seem to mind at all, but then again, Jonny really didn't understand how his mind worked all too well.

 

"You are certainly the most unique, special and awesome thing I've ever seen. I like you- and I'm not just saying it because I want to make you feel better or something like that. I actually genuinely think that you are the coolest lion around and that you deserve so much more that sitting in an enclosure with me. I wish I could just figure you out. You're so complicated, and I guess that's cool in a sense, but I still kinda wonder about you at night- sorry I'm rambling. I suppose I should go right now, I really am sorry for disturbing you, or something like that. Uhh... Bye." Jonny exhaled slowly and got up and inched towards the outside, not even beginning to believe what just happened. Christopher still stared at him, the lion's blue eyes never moving. Jonny was now positive that he could trust Christopher, and he hoped Christopher felt the same in return.

-

The next day when Jonny arrived at the zoo he ran into an extremely panicked Will.

 

"Jonny where the hell were you, you're five minutes late, and we seem to have a problem." Will scolded his worker and friend.

 

"Sorry, traffic. What seems to be the dilemma?" Jonny replied a little too happily.

 

"You know that little cave part of the enclosure we keep for winters and hibernation and all that useless stuff?"

 

"'Course I do, why?"

 

"That lion was seen going in there the second you left yesterday afternoon, and still hasn't come out. It hasn't eaten, we can't hear it, heck we can't see it! You better go in there and sort things out- you're supposed to be the wild cat specialist here."

 

"Ya Will, absolutely, I'll get right in there." Jonny replied and walked in a fast pace to Christopher's cage, which was in fact empty. Far in the back of the massive cage was a cave of sorts, where Christopher was supposed to be. He was almost positive that he just decided to take a little moping session in there, and Will was just making a big stink of it, but he had to check it out, just in case.

 

Jonny trudged across the cage and into the cave, where to his shock, no lion was found. Instead, lay a full grown man huddled in a corner without any clothes on. "What the hell are you doing in a lion's cage mate? Trying to kill yourself?" Jonny said rather quite forcefully. "Speaking of that, what did you do to Christopher. Oh my God- did you steal him? Where'd you-"

 

Jonny stopped as soon as his eyes looked at the man. He saw it all, the scattered golden brown hair, the skinny frame and most importantly the blue eyes that had depth like no other. "Oh my God..." Jonny barely whispered, "Christopher."

 

He stared at the man and shook his head, realizing his nudity. His legs were bent upwards, skillfully covering his "private parts" but it didn't make Jon any less embarrassed. "Uh, one second." Jonny spoke slowly, as he took off into a sprint. Running out of the cage, skillfully skimming a very confused Will, and into his car, where he kept a change of cloths, which he knew wasn't necessary, since his job that had a uniform (that was rather cheesy in his opinion) there was that one time where he got monkey poop all over his uniform and had to spend the rest of the day smelling absolutely repulsing- so he didn't risk any more chances.

 

He grabbed the t-shirt and jeans, and sprinted back into the cage, gasping for air. Jonny wasn't exactly "fit". He threw the cloths into the cavern-thingy and waited a respectable amount of time. He peaked in a little bit just to check that the man had put the cloths on, which he did (thank God) and entered. "You were a lion last night!" Jonny exclaimed, "and now- you can't just alter genetic codes. But you were- and now- you... Oh my gosh."

 

Jonny took a deep breath and sat down beside the silent lion-man-thing. It really did seem impossible that the lion he was monitoring for weeks just turned human out of the blue, but how the hell would a naked man end up in a lions cage that was emptied just like that! There simply wasn't a better explanation.

 

"Can you even understand me Chri- that's probably not your name isn't it, I'm sorry I even took it upon me I just though you-"

 

"I respect all names." The man said in his rather raspy voice.

 

"You can understand me... No no no... You are a lion, it doesn't work that way. Uggh, it's all so complicated."

 

"I'm both."

 

"You're screwing with me aren't you, you are all messing with my mind! Who set this up? Was it you Will, were you trying to make me go insane, because it goddamn worked!!!" Jonny yelled as much as his soft voice would allow him to.

 

"Will doesn't know, don't tell Will."

 

"Doesn't know what? You are playing with my emotions. I liked that lion, I really liked that lion. We were friends, we stared at each other!" Jonny's eyes started watering just a little, he didn't realize how much Christopher meant to him.

 

"He doesn't know the truth." The man replied gently.

 

"Now it's a conspiracy? What have you all been hiding from me? What the hell is going on?"

 

"I am the lion. I am the man. I am both."

 

Jonny was getting very frantic, his eyes looked everywhere. "No you are not, no... It isn't possible."

 

"Look at me." The man ordered in his soft tone, Jonny immediately obeyed and stared him straight in those familiar blue eyes. "What do you see?"

 

Jonny blinked, "I see... Depth, pain, sadness, I see... Christopher."

 

The man nodded,"I have many names and faces. I forget most of them, they leave with the wind. I forget many of the faces I see also, they blend in together. You are a special face, though. You guessed my name. My real name. I can trust you."

 

"So you are Christopher... The shape-shifter thing?" Jonny breathed out.

 

"Chris is shorter, easy to say."

 

"You are- Chris- the shape-shifter thing?" Jonny corrected.

 

"I don't know what I am, but I know that I am here."

 

"I think you are incredible, that's what you are. So do you just change or..."

 

" I go where I must. I don't know much about me. How about you?"

 

"Well, I'm Jonny, I'm a zookeeper, and I am really confused."

 

"I'm sorry, I never meant to make you so distraught." Chris calmly said once more.

 

"No, no, no, it's all me. Uh, so, are you just going to leave? I mean, you can't be living here any longer if you are planning to stay human, and as a lion you are so sad."

 

"Sadness occurs when you put a free spirit into captivity. You must feel all emotions in life."

 

Jonny smiled just a little bit at the man, who looked not too much older than him. "I guess I could find a place for you, my place has a sofa bed that I can sleep in. I just don't know how Will will react, or the other zoo. It's just so risky."

 

"I go where my heart tells me." Chis replied.

 

"Sure, great, I'm fine with that. So, uh, where is your 'heart' telling you to go Chris?"

 

There was a slight pause.

 

"With you Jonny, with you."

 

 

 

[coldplayer#16]

God this thread is dead. How's about something new?!

 

My First Kiss

 

 

 

Hella original name because this is pretty much totally inspired by this lovely little video (starts at 20 seconds in):

 

[video=youtube;rg3WohBhfU0]

 

 

 

 

My name’s Christopher Martin, aged 11, 5th grade class of the gorgeous Ms. Gregory, and I got my first kiss today. Come to think of it, I also got my first black eye, and it’s the first time I knocked another kid’s teeth out. Literally. And it all happened in the span of 20 minutes. Allow me to begin my story before the events of this fortunate recess:

 

As I told you, I am in the 5th grade class of the wonderful, amazing, stylish, and talented Ms. Gregory. She’s much too old, she’s like, 27 or something, but she’s attractive. And, before you get any ideas, no, I did not get my kiss from her (as much as any boy in this school would love that). I have been top dog in her class, with my buddies Guy and Will; I’m the musical one, Guy is the athletic one, and Will is somewhere in-between with brawn and brains that are unmatched. Save for that one girl, Samantha Brown, but she’s a show-off who knows how to spell “planetarium” and other big science words without having to try and write it down first. She’s cute too, but … where was I going with this again?

 

OH YEAH!

 

Recently, my status has been challenged by these two newbies who were moved from their class, because they’re too advanced for their class and got moved in to ours or something. They came up from the 4th grade section, and they’re both wicked smart, and one of them knows how to play guitar! That’s MY job! I wow the class with my piano skills in music class, and now, he comes in out of nowhere and starts to steal my thunder with his own guitar skills. I can’t carry a piano around with me! It’s not fair! So, I admit, I got jealous of him, big deal! He got all the attention from the other kids, including my friends, and he caught Ms. Gregory’s eye. I guess you could say I became territorial.

 

I started to resent this kid, but his friend isn’t any better. He’s smart, can sing, play piano (better than me!), and he’s athletic. He’s PERFECT. And the two of them being friends and being smart and talented and … it makes me sick to think they can take mine and my friends’ spotlight. Their names? Jon and Phil.

 

The Jon kid is the one with the guitar, and he’s kinda cute too, not gonna lie, and maybe it was those strawberry blond curls of his that caught Ms. Gregory’s attention. I don’t know nor do I care what it was, but I just get this weird mix of feelings whenever I see him; I’m angry, I’m scared, I get these weird feelings in my stomach, and whenever I wanna try and make peace with him to be the bigger person and get Ms. Gregory back, I end up losing control of myself and end up yelling at him and being a jerk! At least, when she’s around, and that’s the only time that matters! Otherwise, I just kinda ignore him, and it’s like, I dunno, he’s kinda like a girl. He’s so sensitive and seems so nice and yet, he makes me feel so weird and I don’t know what to do! I just kinda end up being angry and confused.

 

But he’s not my only problem, oh no, he’s nothing compared to his little friend, Phil. Someone I wished had never set foot in my classroom. He’s just too perfect! He’s nice, talented, smart, and he knows how to speak to grown ups and it’s like, he doesn’t even have to try to flirt with the teacher in the way us little boys do, he’s got those perpetually rosy cheeks and semi-toothless smile that any girl would swoon for! He’s the main problem, and he’s real protective of that other kid, Jon, which means he gets in my way a lot. He makes me look even worse, sticking up for his friend when I don’t know why I’m being a jerk! In front of Ms. Gregory too, it’s just so embarrassing!!

 

However, that is nothing in comparison to what happened a few weeks later, now, after they’d been in our class for a while. This is where the events of our tragic recess begin.

 

I was sitting on the swing, minding my own business, contemplating if I was willing to attempt being a part of the football or join the small group that were playing rugby, or to start pumping and jump off and fly for a bit, when this Jon kid comes up to me. His face was beat red, and he had this hat on, the one that he wore in and out of school with everyday, and that he wasn’t supposed to have on the playground.

 

“You’re not supposed to have that, you know?” I told him.

 

He just stood there, his face red and hugging himself, breathing a bit heavier and trying to find something to say.

 

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

 

He shook his head, the red on his cheeks intensifying.

 

“Then talk to me! What do you want with me anyway, pretty boy? You’ve got everything you could possibly want! You got bumped up a level, have an amazing best friend, know how to play guitar, and you’ve go the eyes of my Ms. Gregory. Congratulations! Coming over to rub it in my face?!”

 

I ran back, my butt still planted firmly on the swing seat, and I push forward when this kid grabs my arm and pulls me away, pulling me under the little dinosaur, the one place the teachers have difficulty seeing us, which indicates to me there’s a problem. He sat me down and puffed a bit, his face was now a bright red, still somehow deepening in shade, and he was really shaking now.

 

I look him up and down, put my hands behind me and point at him, eyebrow raised, “You got something to say mate?”

 

“WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!” he screamed.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“You! You and your … you-ness! I’ve just been trying to be nice to you and try to fit in, but all you’ve done is yell at me and isolate me from the others!! They don’t like me because YOU don’t like me!! The only person I have is the one you call my best friend, and he only sticks up for me because we got bumped up together! He doesn’t know me that well! He’s barely my friend, and I was trying to be friends with you because a lot of the other kids talk about you and how cool you are and I just wanted to be somebody for the first time in my life! And when I figured out who you were I-”

 

“Whoa, whoa, time out, you think I’m cool?”

 

“YES! You’re like, great! You can sing and play piano, and you’re good at art and you’re really really awesome at maths and reading and you’re really cute and you make me feel awful and so-”

 

“Weird?”

 

He stopped there, his face was burning now, his breathing shaky and tears were starting to well up in his eyes. This is when things pick up. He leaned in and kissed me.

 

My first kiss, taken by a boy.

 

It was just like that! He was quick about it; I could feel the heat of his blush when his lips pressed up to mine. It was only a second, and then, by the time I’d blinked, he’d turned around and bolted out of the little cove, his hands covering his eyes as tears began running down his cheeks.

 

I sat there, and just sat. I didn’t know what had just happened, let alone understand why it felt so … nice! It was amazing! It made me feel all these butterflies in my stomach and I could feel my face begin to burn red with embarrassment and a strange sense of joy and sadness. I was in there for a minute or two before I crawled out of the cove and sat back on my swing, elbows on my knees and palms holding my head up. I had the biggest, dumbest smile across my face and I couldn’t tell you why.

 

I was in this state for about five minutes, rewinding and reliving what had happened just minutes before, and I ran from behind the swing, aiming myself from behind and jumping. I grabbed the chains and stood on the seat of the swing, letting out a big, “WOO HOO!” and flew off at the highest arc of swing. I felt the air go through my curls, up my shirt and jacket, and then gravity pulled me back down to earth. This is when things went bad. I landed and then saw this Phil kid in front of me, a football in his hands and he was clearly angry.

 

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!” he screamed, throwing the ball at my face before I even had the chance to react.

 

The ball hit me square in the eye, his aim was awful, but it still knocked me back and onto the ground, and I landed with a thud.

 

“What do you mean?!” I screamed at him, once I was able to see two of him.

 

“You left my friend crying AGAIN, Martin,” Phil said, grabbing me by the collar, “Now, we both know I’m younger than you, but we BOTH know that I’m stronger than you are. So, you’re either gonna explain yourself or that eye’s bruise-to-be is gonna get a lot darker.”

 

“Hold on!” I managed to say, “I didn’t do anything, he’s the one who-”

 

Before I could say anything else, I felt another strike straight to where the ball had hit me, “DO NOT EVEN TRY TO GIVE ME THAT!”

 

“Ow ..” I moaned.

 

“Phil! Stop it!!” I heard, and I managed to see the shoes of Jon, the beat up trainers were a relief to see.

 

“What, Jon?! He made you cry! AGAIN!” Phil screamed, “This jerk has done enough to you, and it’s high time he got his just desserts!”

 

“That’s not why I was crying you idiot!!” Jon screamed. I sat up and moaned, feeling my eye beginning to swell and bruise. Jon ran to my side and supported me, looking at my eye and looked back up at Phil, “Please, leave him alone. It was my own fault I was crying this time. I just couldn’t tell someone I liked them, it just goes wrong. Just like it always has.”

 

“This guy is the first person you’ve EVER expressed interest in, Jon,” Phil said, “at least, as far as I know, and you’re only ten years old. Girls are still gross to us, so I find it hard that you’ve-”

 

“Shut up!” Jon said, hugging me and hiding his face into my shoulder, the fabric of his hat rubbing up against my swelling face.

 

“Oh, you baby. You gotta learn to stick up for yourself, I can’t keep doing it for you.”

 

Phil grabbed the football and walked off. I could feel Jon shake and begin to cry again, which drove me off the deep end. He clearly cared for me, and I did too now? I wasn’t sure, but god knows I was mad. I pushed Jon off of me and ran after Phil. I caught up to him, grabbed his shoulder, and swung my fist at him.

 

My eyes were closed, but I aimed for the face, hoping I’d land my hit, and I did. Right in the mouth. I opened my eyes when I heard him hit the ground, and I saw him cough, open his mouth and pull out a bloody baby tooth. He pocketed the tooth and looked at me.

 

“You’ve got balls,” he said, “but you’ve challenged the wrong person!” He lunged at me, and I began to fight back, falling over and throwing blind punches and screaming back and forth at each other. Phil had crossed a line, and while I know I’d crossed plenty, but I couldn’t just take what he’d said sitting down! And it wasn’t even at me!

 

Our scuffle didn’t last long; Ms. Gregory came and broke the two of us up, Jon standing behind her with tears in his eyes, which I only then noticed were a bright green. They were prettier than any girl’s eyes I’d ever seen, and I couldn’t help but think that maybe I could like a boy.

 

The two of us were sent to the nurse’s office, where we cleaned up and got ice and band-aids for our various scrapes and cuts. I had to hold a big ice pack to my eye; Phil had to gargle with salt water, and then held ice on his gushing lower gum. We were cleaned up and called in for a meeting with our parents, who had been called in, and the principal and poor Ms. Gregory who looked so disappointed in us both.

 

At the end of the day though, after all the trouble, fighting, and scolding we got, no one brought up that I’d gotten my first kiss! I guess that detail had been carefully removed from the story, and I’m glad it was. I feel like the adults would’ve frowned upon us kissing, but that didn’t stop me from doing what I did after everything was said and done.

 

The next day at recess, I found Jon drawing with the chalks we had and I sat down next to him, “Hi.”

 

He looked up and jumped, and backed away from me a bit, “I’m sorry!”

 

I smiled at him and laughed, “For what?”

 

“You know, yesterday. Everything that happened was my fault! I got so upset and then Phil punched you and-”

 

“Phil punched me, not you.”

 

“Yeah, b- but I …” his face grew red and he hid his face in his hands, “I’m sorry!”

 

“It’s okay,” I said, hugging him, “I know how you felt, actually. And I don’t know if you still feel that way, but, uh, you know, that’s – what you did- I mean …”

 

I felt Jon’s arms wrap around me and squeeze me, and we just sat there in a hug for a little bit. We kinda smiled at each other and started drawing with the chalk, drawing our favorite pokémon and animals and things like that. We talked and laughed and told each other stories and about ourselves! It was really great! Then it was time for recess to end. Everyone lined up and was about to head inside, but I took Jon under the dinosaur again, hiding in the cove and waiting for just the right moment.

 

“Look man, you’re gonna have to forgive me for this,” I told him, putting my hands on his reddening cheeks, “but I owe you.”

 

I felt my cheeks flare up as I leaned in and felt my lips press up to his, kissing him and hearing the bell for the end of recess.

 

“I really like you, Jon,” I told him, holding him close to me, “I’m sorry I was a jerk.”

 

I felt the heat coming off of the other boy’s cheeks when I felt his arms around me again. He started to laugh and he kissed my bruised eye, “I really like you too.”

 

END