Post by derekrain on May 31, 2007 0:07:12 GMT -5
(I've got the whole idea for the story planned out, but this is what I have written so far. Feedback?)
**
She walked into the room. High ceiling. Loud music. Hundreds of faceless, unidentifiable people moving around in an endless ballet, all of them vibrating in time to the baseline.
She was home.
The opener was almost over. Soon, the band she came to see would be on. She stopped people watching and headed for the stage. There wasn't enough people here yet to make this difficult. She was small. People didn't notice her gently elbow her way to the front.
She reached the front and turned around, and sitting with her back to the stage. Her band came on, and she closed her eyes and smiled, feeling the baseline and the beat flow through her. Minutes passed in hours and she felt every excruciatingly beautiful second of it.
And when it was over, and people were leaving, she opened her eyes and looked to her left. She was startled to see a boy staring straight back at her, with a confused look on his face.
He was sitting, too.
Never in her life had she met another person who listened to music the way she did. Not once.
Oh, God. He looked like he was going to talk to her.
She quickly got up and left.
All the way back home, she could hear Cala yelling at her in her head.
You just walked out on your soulmate. Are you retarded?
**
...
Story was snapped out of her daydream by the insistant buzz of the doorbell. She was suddenly very aware of her attire; a tank top printed with a willow tree and a pair of faded blue boyshorts. She threw on a pair of floral shorts and a cardigan and was hopping into her indigo combat boots when she opened the door.
"Damn, girl," Cala exclaimed, bursting into the room in her usual manner, "making me wait like that. I should have just left without you."
Story tried to remember where they were going.
"Come on, Stor. Polarity is opeming for the Thermals at Sin Sin. We talked about this. Yesterday. You do have your ticket, right?" Cala began to rummage through Story's old shoebox full of stubs while Story took a pocketbook out of a hole in the wall and produced the ticket.
"Good. Now let's go, missy. Connor even brought along a boy for you. His name's Skandar, and he's damn fine if I do say so. Also, he's apparently just as into music as you are. So. Miracle. Let's go!"
Story quickly glanced into the shard of mirror nailed to her wall. She always forgot what color she'd dyed her hair. Right now it was a deep, mysterious brown. Her makeup was smudged. She could deal. She would put more chapstick on while they walked.
...
Connor and Skandar were already in the club. The music playing while the band set up was good, but a little mellow for the venue. Skandar was lipsyncing the words.
"Who's this?" Connor asked.
"Silversun Pickups." Skandar's face fell as Connor raised an eyebrow, "Come one. It's a single. Lazy Eye? They play it on the radio!"
Connor shrugged. He was used to disappointing Skandar with his negligible musical knowledge.
Connor looked over at the door and spotted his girlfriend walking in with her friend just as Skandar turned his back and breathed a very eloquent "shit".
"What, man?" Conor asked, never taking his eyes off his girl. Damn, he was lucky.
"That's her. That's the girl from the concert. My soulmate."
"It must be fate. You have to talk to her."
The song changed to "Satan Said Dance" by Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, and Skandar looked subtly at the girl over his shoulder. She noticed the change in the song and smiled to herself. Skandar melted.
"I can't, man. She's... stunning. God damn... I can't." He shook his head and made an attempt to leave.
"Then I'm gonna make you. You have to. You're never going to find anyone like that, anyone as weird as you, ever again. You're going to thank me for this." He grabbed Skandar by one skinny arm and began to drag him across the club towards the girls.
...
Five steps into the club, Story's gaze fixed on something and she froze. Cala followed her line of sight to her boyfriend marching determinedly across the floor towards them, Skandar in tow.
"What, babe? What's wrong?"
"That boy... that boy with Connor. Is that Skandar?" She asked, averting her eyes when the boy looked up at her.
"Um, yes. Who else would it be? Connor's practically molesting him."
"It's him." By that statement alone, Cala understood the gravity of the situation. Story didn't talk to new people anywhere near often. Either she wasn't interested enough to bother with the awkwardness or she was too shy around people she considered better than her. Now this boy was going to talk to her, finally, and she was going to run.
Cala secured a deathgrip around her friend's wrist. "Baby, don't. It'll be good for you. And I promise, if you need to be rescued, I'll get you out of there, okay?"
Story nodded, studying the boy. He had longish red hair and was dressed in jeans, chucks, a striped teeshirt, and a tuxedo vest. He looked up, their eyes met, and he smiled shyly. Story melted.
Connor took the opportunity to formally introduce them. "This is Skandar, Story. I believe you've met."
**
Connor and Cala ran off, giggling, leaving Skandar and Story alone under the Ferris wheel. A carnie in overalls, and, presumably, nothing else, spat his cigarette at Story's feet and looked them over.
"You guys riding or what? Last ride of the night, so it's free."
Skandar looked at Story in question, "Why not?"
She shrugged in response and climbed into the cage. He worked his way in gracefully, seating himself next to her. Their legs were touching; his hand rested on his knee, and his little finger touched the skin of hers. It burned deliciously. She looked away.
The carnie leered at her as he started the controls, his gaze traveling up her legs and resting, quite unceremoniously, on her chest. She didn't notice, but Skandar did.
"Hey, man, don't look at her like that." Skandar said loudly. The carnie's eyes locked onto his, and Skandar put an arm around her protectively. She got the message and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. Her cheek touched his collarbone. Both of them were acutely aware of it.
The guy shrugged and was taken out of their sight by the roll of the ferris wheel, and Skandar made to move his arm back.
"You don't have to," Story mumbled, "Move, I mean. You can leave your arm there.If you want."
He smiled into the night. "I think I will."
They stayed like that for a few rounds, just looking at the sky in front of them, relishing the feeling of falling, safely strapped into their seat. Skandar's grip around Story's shoulder tightened slightly, and warmth coursed through her, He spoke.
"I really, really want to kiss you right now."
She sat up then, careful not to dislodge his arm. "I'm not gonna lie, that's kind of cheesy. Ferris wheel? Come on. Be creative. At least - "
And suddenly, her lips had better things to do than mock him. Things like moving, softly, against his. Her hands made their way up to his hair, wound their way into it, found a grip, pulled him closer. Skandar groaned softly and broke away from her.
"Sorry."
"For what?" She asked, bewildered. Please don't say you didn't mean to do that...
"I interrupted you."
She smiled. "It's alright, really."
"Good." He said, "Because I'm gonna do it again."
True to his word, Skandar pressed his lips to hers, harder this time, so that she felt it in her entire body. His had rested on the back of her neck, keeping her where he wanted her, and she felt his tongue glide along her lower lip. Her hand found the stubble on the side of his face, and she ran her hand along it, smiling into his kiss.
And suddenly, the ride stopped. And they looked up to see Cala and Connor were standing at the exit gate, cheering them on.
**
She walked into the room. High ceiling. Loud music. Hundreds of faceless, unidentifiable people moving around in an endless ballet, all of them vibrating in time to the baseline.
She was home.
The opener was almost over. Soon, the band she came to see would be on. She stopped people watching and headed for the stage. There wasn't enough people here yet to make this difficult. She was small. People didn't notice her gently elbow her way to the front.
She reached the front and turned around, and sitting with her back to the stage. Her band came on, and she closed her eyes and smiled, feeling the baseline and the beat flow through her. Minutes passed in hours and she felt every excruciatingly beautiful second of it.
And when it was over, and people were leaving, she opened her eyes and looked to her left. She was startled to see a boy staring straight back at her, with a confused look on his face.
He was sitting, too.
Never in her life had she met another person who listened to music the way she did. Not once.
Oh, God. He looked like he was going to talk to her.
She quickly got up and left.
All the way back home, she could hear Cala yelling at her in her head.
You just walked out on your soulmate. Are you retarded?
**
...
Story was snapped out of her daydream by the insistant buzz of the doorbell. She was suddenly very aware of her attire; a tank top printed with a willow tree and a pair of faded blue boyshorts. She threw on a pair of floral shorts and a cardigan and was hopping into her indigo combat boots when she opened the door.
"Damn, girl," Cala exclaimed, bursting into the room in her usual manner, "making me wait like that. I should have just left without you."
Story tried to remember where they were going.
"Come on, Stor. Polarity is opeming for the Thermals at Sin Sin. We talked about this. Yesterday. You do have your ticket, right?" Cala began to rummage through Story's old shoebox full of stubs while Story took a pocketbook out of a hole in the wall and produced the ticket.
"Good. Now let's go, missy. Connor even brought along a boy for you. His name's Skandar, and he's damn fine if I do say so. Also, he's apparently just as into music as you are. So. Miracle. Let's go!"
Story quickly glanced into the shard of mirror nailed to her wall. She always forgot what color she'd dyed her hair. Right now it was a deep, mysterious brown. Her makeup was smudged. She could deal. She would put more chapstick on while they walked.
...
Connor and Skandar were already in the club. The music playing while the band set up was good, but a little mellow for the venue. Skandar was lipsyncing the words.
"Who's this?" Connor asked.
"Silversun Pickups." Skandar's face fell as Connor raised an eyebrow, "Come one. It's a single. Lazy Eye? They play it on the radio!"
Connor shrugged. He was used to disappointing Skandar with his negligible musical knowledge.
Connor looked over at the door and spotted his girlfriend walking in with her friend just as Skandar turned his back and breathed a very eloquent "shit".
"What, man?" Conor asked, never taking his eyes off his girl. Damn, he was lucky.
"That's her. That's the girl from the concert. My soulmate."
"It must be fate. You have to talk to her."
The song changed to "Satan Said Dance" by Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, and Skandar looked subtly at the girl over his shoulder. She noticed the change in the song and smiled to herself. Skandar melted.
"I can't, man. She's... stunning. God damn... I can't." He shook his head and made an attempt to leave.
"Then I'm gonna make you. You have to. You're never going to find anyone like that, anyone as weird as you, ever again. You're going to thank me for this." He grabbed Skandar by one skinny arm and began to drag him across the club towards the girls.
...
Five steps into the club, Story's gaze fixed on something and she froze. Cala followed her line of sight to her boyfriend marching determinedly across the floor towards them, Skandar in tow.
"What, babe? What's wrong?"
"That boy... that boy with Connor. Is that Skandar?" She asked, averting her eyes when the boy looked up at her.
"Um, yes. Who else would it be? Connor's practically molesting him."
"It's him." By that statement alone, Cala understood the gravity of the situation. Story didn't talk to new people anywhere near often. Either she wasn't interested enough to bother with the awkwardness or she was too shy around people she considered better than her. Now this boy was going to talk to her, finally, and she was going to run.
Cala secured a deathgrip around her friend's wrist. "Baby, don't. It'll be good for you. And I promise, if you need to be rescued, I'll get you out of there, okay?"
Story nodded, studying the boy. He had longish red hair and was dressed in jeans, chucks, a striped teeshirt, and a tuxedo vest. He looked up, their eyes met, and he smiled shyly. Story melted.
Connor took the opportunity to formally introduce them. "This is Skandar, Story. I believe you've met."
**
Connor and Cala ran off, giggling, leaving Skandar and Story alone under the Ferris wheel. A carnie in overalls, and, presumably, nothing else, spat his cigarette at Story's feet and looked them over.
"You guys riding or what? Last ride of the night, so it's free."
Skandar looked at Story in question, "Why not?"
She shrugged in response and climbed into the cage. He worked his way in gracefully, seating himself next to her. Their legs were touching; his hand rested on his knee, and his little finger touched the skin of hers. It burned deliciously. She looked away.
The carnie leered at her as he started the controls, his gaze traveling up her legs and resting, quite unceremoniously, on her chest. She didn't notice, but Skandar did.
"Hey, man, don't look at her like that." Skandar said loudly. The carnie's eyes locked onto his, and Skandar put an arm around her protectively. She got the message and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. Her cheek touched his collarbone. Both of them were acutely aware of it.
The guy shrugged and was taken out of their sight by the roll of the ferris wheel, and Skandar made to move his arm back.
"You don't have to," Story mumbled, "Move, I mean. You can leave your arm there.If you want."
He smiled into the night. "I think I will."
They stayed like that for a few rounds, just looking at the sky in front of them, relishing the feeling of falling, safely strapped into their seat. Skandar's grip around Story's shoulder tightened slightly, and warmth coursed through her, He spoke.
"I really, really want to kiss you right now."
She sat up then, careful not to dislodge his arm. "I'm not gonna lie, that's kind of cheesy. Ferris wheel? Come on. Be creative. At least - "
And suddenly, her lips had better things to do than mock him. Things like moving, softly, against his. Her hands made their way up to his hair, wound their way into it, found a grip, pulled him closer. Skandar groaned softly and broke away from her.
"Sorry."
"For what?" She asked, bewildered. Please don't say you didn't mean to do that...
"I interrupted you."
She smiled. "It's alright, really."
"Good." He said, "Because I'm gonna do it again."
True to his word, Skandar pressed his lips to hers, harder this time, so that she felt it in her entire body. His had rested on the back of her neck, keeping her where he wanted her, and she felt his tongue glide along her lower lip. Her hand found the stubble on the side of his face, and she ran her hand along it, smiling into his kiss.
And suddenly, the ride stopped. And they looked up to see Cala and Connor were standing at the exit gate, cheering them on.
