Disclaimer: I don't own SWAC.
Author's Note: Here's a little one-shot that fell into my head. I love writing in second-person POV. This is the first time I write something like this, short and angsty. I kinda missed writing fluff for this one, but I liked its bittersweetness. R&R, lovelies?
You were destined to be the it couple. You were both beautiful, talented, and powerful. You were yin and yang. Exact opposites of each other, but that only made you two more perfect. You completed one another. The perfect duo, the perfect couple, the perfect people.
It was mentioned so often that you started to believe it was true
The flashing lights, the screaming fans, the moisture in the air, everything reminds you of that night. You look down and look back up, the bright flashes blinding your vision. You can't see, but you have to pretend you're under control. You don't know what's coming your way, but you have to improvise. A façade, that's all this is. The red carpet is just a metaphor for your life. Acting in control, smiling like you're having the time of your life, when you haven't got a clue of what's coming, where you're going, or what you're doing.
As the flashes die down, you catch a glimpse of the current teen it couple. They look so happy, so jubilant, so ecstatic. Only you have a clue what's going on between them, only you've been there. As the girl reaches upward to whisper something to the boy, you're trapped in a whirlwind of memories, glimpses of your life along with that person you let go. The person you didn't fight for. The person you need the most.
We've been having some problems lately. Things were no longer fun, but filled with angst and arguments. We weren't being ourselves. It was like if two cardboard cut-outs had replaced the real-life versions of us. Our patience with each other was running thin, especially that night. I had started the argument, that much I'll admit. Even in the limo, we continued to bicker endlessly, but as soon as the door opened a smile formed on my lips. We walked out and instead of the usual two smiles the photographers got, they only had one. Mine. I leaned over and whispered, "Smile like you mean it." And sure enough, the photographers received their duo of smiles. It was a movie premiere, and the press let us slip by quite quickly, since the stars of the film were the ones getting ambushed for interviews. We stopped for a couple of autographs, and stepped into the theatre. This was a movie I actually wanted to watch, but with so many things on my mind, I couldn't concentrate. Thanking God when the lights came out, we slipped by the crowd of friends and acquaintances into the small "after party'' thing. We went towards the back, and the arguing continued, this time, I don't remember why. All I remember was, "I think it's time. This isn't gonna work out for neither of us." I nodded, agreeing. It hurt, there was mutual hurt.
"You've got a face for a smile, you know."
I arched an eyebrow, confused, prompting an explanation.
"You're face was made for smiling. Do something for me, will you? Smile, always."
And with that, we shared one last kiss.
The flashback ends, and you're back in the real world. You're back in the place that tore you apart to shreds, left you to be mended only by time itself, but you didn't. You realize you've been standing in the same place like an idiot, and move on.
Once again, the red carpet reflects your life. There you've been at the same place, refusing to move on, when you know the only thing that's stopping you is yourself. While the whole world has been going on, you were left in an emotional catatonic state. Not feeling, not caring. Just like before. It's time to move on, you've realized.
Once again, you pull out the façade and smile like you mean it. You turn around and see the person who halted your life. You see her. There she is, smiling her little heart out, holding hands with some guy. A guy that isn't you. You recognize the smile as her genuine one, and you tell she's really, truly happy. She's on top of the world, the world she created when she moved on.
Looking back, all you needed, other than her, was a little closure. You walk up to her, tap her on the shoulder and absorb in her shocked expression. You put on a small smile lean down and you whisper those same words she said years ago.
"You've got a face for a smile, you know," she could take this as an insult, a bite on what she said to you, so for safe measures you add, "I mean it."