Listen to the Music Playing, a just listen fanfic

Listen To The Music Playing

Shh, Annabel, it's just me.

The words coaxed me into the darkened room. That voice echoed inside my head.

Shh, Annabel, it's just me.

Lying in my own bed, in my own room, alone, I could still feel his cold hands pierce my skin.

I could still feel his grip around my neck and his arm blocking my screams. It suffocated me, he suffocated me.

I was startled by these words and awoke with a start. Beads of cold sweat had accumulated on my forehead and with a swipe of my arm the droplets vanished. I ruffled the knotted sheets and settled down again under the covers, begging for these images and feelings to go away. But they would never go away; they would always haunt me like this. But he could never do it again. He was locked away and fined for what he had done to me, what he had done to too many of us on those late nights at parties. He did whatever he wanted to do. And because of this I shut out everything.

I felt something shift beside me. I jumped, remembering where I was; I was not alone. I was lying in a bed, in someone else's house. I was enclosed in the arms of a man who loved me, protected me, from losing myself. That man was Owen Armstrong. I sank deeper into his chest and let his arms tighten around me. I knew I was safe. But how did this happen?

Flashback:

My car came to a stop next to his beat up, old-style, blue Land Cruiser. I sat there for a moment and just looked at it. It was the car he drove me home in that day Whitney was at the movies. It was the car with the broken passenger seat buckle. This was the car that, only weeks ago, I made out with him in the back seat during the drive-in movie production of The Unborn. I snapped out of the random trace and turned off my radio. The Potato Song by Truth Squad abruptly stopped when my buckle clashed against the plastic interior of my car and when the door slammed shut. It was the middle of July and the instant change of humidity was like a heat wave. I jogged quickly across the deserted parking lot into the air-conditioned studio building. I passed numerous soundproof rooms before I halted in front of the door marked, Studio 001. Glancing up at the bright bulb flashing above the door, I stepped away and took a seat in one of the plastic red chairs. Faintly, I heard his voice,

"This is Anger Management. It is now 7:15 AM and you're listening to WRUS, your community radio station…" Owen bellowed into the microphone.

I slid down in my chair and pulled out the borrowed iPod. It actually belonged to Owen but he had accidently given to me other day at the World of Waffles. It was in his jacket pocket that night. I placed the jacket on the chair beside me and pressed play on the track "Just Listen." This was supposedly a mistake, something else should be playing but I didn't want to replace it with anything.

I was here because Owen needed to know what had happened that night at Bendo last week. He needed to know why he found me sobbing in the parking lot beside his car. He needed to know why I held myself tight and refused to let him carry me. I just sat there and watched him drive away with Rolly.

I took a deep breath and prayed to god he wouldn't be mad about what had happened. I suddenly heard the turning of a door knob. Looking up from the small screen, I saw Rolly appeared by the opened door wearing his padding. You could plainly see the sweat on his forehead and moments later I saw Clarke behind him holding his big, bulky helmet.

"Hey Annabel!" Clarke said cheerfully as she tangled her fingers into Rolly's.

I smiled and waved to them as they passed. "See ya later," I said and watched them walk down the empty hallway.

With a whoosh of the door I could feel a slight breeze and hear the sound of Owen's voice again,

"You were just listening to the Black Ghosts with 'Full Moon'. Now, for all you fans out there, here's a song by Ebb Tide…" His voice faded and I heard the song take over.

Taking a deep breath I pressed pause and slipped the iPod back into the jacket pocket. Picking up the jacket, I stood up and reached for the door knob. When the door was just about ajar, I heard his voice again but this time it was directed at me.

"You can't enter while we're on air," He stopped and looked up from the album he was studying.

I glanced around the cramped studio. CDs were in every nook and cranny and Owen was sitting in a swivel chair with his feet propped on the desk. When he saw me his heavy work boots hit the floor with a thud and I just stood there while he glared at me. I turned my head to see my reflection in the tint of the glass divide. My hair looked as if I had just rolled out of bed and then thrown in an unkempt ponytail. My favorite tank top was wrinkled and my face was bare without any makeup. I realized at that moment it was 7:30 in the morning and only half hour ago I was in bed.

"Hey," Owen mumbled as he shoved the CD into his bag on the floor. He stood up and reached for another case. I watched him intently as he stuck another CD into the player and fell back into his chair. "I didn't think I'd see you here," He muttered and grabbed his coffee from Jump Java.

"I need to talk to you." I said as I placed his jacket on the desk in front of him.

"Thanks for my jacket back, but I can't talk now. Can't you see I'm a little busy here?" His voice was monotone.

"Then when can I talk to you?" I asked him. I desperately had to talk to him about what had happened.

"Mallory and my mom are leaving for Florida tonight. Stop by around seven and we can talk," The music in the background ended, as did his voice, and with a flip of a switch he was no longer talking to me but to all the fans of WRUS.

I leaned back against the door jam behind me and looked at him. He was hunched over the desk, talking into his microphone, ear phones where hanging around his neck and you could plainly see the marks of sunburn across his face. I sighed softly and waved good bye. Gently closing the door behind me, I walked down the lightened hallway and pressed open the doors into the parking lot.

I yanked open my car door and dropped into the heated space. My key slid into the ignition and I hit the power button on my stereo. Owen's voice yet again filled my head,

"We usually don't ask for callers' requests at WRUS but just call 1-866-123-WRUS to have your song playing on our airwaves. That's 1-866-123-WRUS. But in the meantime here's a fan's favorite."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Jenny Reef was, yet again, playing on his station. I chuckled to myself as I backed out of the parking lot and pulled away.

x x x

This day was taking forever to pass. When I returned home, Whitney was lounging on the couch watching the History Channel. I took a closer look at the screen and realized it was a documentary on the Bubonic Plague. I quickly passed her and went up to my room. First I opened the one and only window letting in air flow. After quickly combing my hair, I lay on my bed and watched the bright light dance across my carpet. The silence was killing me so I rolled over and reached for the play button on my CD player. I hadn't known what was playing until the voice echoed off my walls.

I call you in the middle of the night

Wondering what can possibly be wrong

You tell me peace isn't visible,

Love isn't fair, and all hope is lost

I groaned a bit and sat up. When listening to Owen's music for so long, I hadn't realized how horrible my favorites used to sound. I switched out the Drake Peyton junk for something Owen would have praised over.

Little drops of rain whisper of the pain, tears of loves lost in the days gone by.
My love is strong, with you there is no wrong,
together we shall go until we die. My, my, my.
An inspiration is what you are to me, inspiration, look... see.

I smiled and lay back down.

"Thank you, Led Zeppelin." I muttered sarcastically.

"What did you say?" Whitney said.

I propped myself on my elbows and looked at her. Her framed face was posed in a question and her hair was jumbled on top of her head in a messy bun.

"Nothing, I just like this music, that's all." I said.

She stepped inside my room and sat on the edge of my bed. "It's funny; I've never heard you listening to Led Zeppelin before." I watched her trace her finger along the pattern of my quilt.

"I guess I changed tastes in music." I told her.

"Hmm, I guess you did." She got up and headed for the hallway, but turned to me, "Did you eat breakfast yet?" She asked.

"No but I know a great place that you'll just adore." I jumped up and shoved my feet in my flip flops.

x x x

"Where are we?" My sister asked me.

"World of Waffles. This place known for their awesome bacon. And waffles, of course." I hopped out of my seat and ran around the car to get my sister. She looked panic stricken as I pulled her by the arm into the building. We were still a few feet away and you could already inhale the stench of maple syrup.

"I feel like someone just drowned a bottle of that stuff down my lungs." She muttered before clutching her noise. "This is an eating disordered person's nightmare." She said again between breaths as we walked through the glass doors. I led her to the nearest available booth and sat down.

"The tables here are permanently sticky like glue, be careful." I laughed as she jerked her hands away from the table and cautiously reached for a menu.

A waitress approached us and pulled out her pad of paper. "What can I get you ladies?" She asked, pen in hand.

"I'll have a stack of 3 buttermilk waffles with a side of bacon." My sister shot me a disgusted look. "And my sister here will have the same." I smiled as Whitney's eyes narrowed.

"Anything else?" The waitress asked.

"Oh, and two coffees, please" I said right before Whitney could say a word.

The waitress took our menus and told us she'd return in a moment.

"I'm not going to eat all of that!" She quietly shrieked. I looked around and saw a few heads turn.

"It won't surprise me if you go against that word." I said and winked at her. "The last time I came here I told myself the same thing. Man, was I wrong." The woman then placed a hot stack of fresh waffles and bacon in front of Whitney and me.

"It does smell good." She mumbled as she picked up her fork.

"Told you," I said to her before digging in.

We both left the World of Waffles stuffed. Even Whitney had finished her plate before we drove off to the mall. I remembered my mother's birthday was coming up so at least we had a purpose of going there. So with cash in hand we wandered around the open, airy corridors looking for something our mother would like. We eventually found what we were looking for at one of those merchandise carts, one with jewelry actually. The shop was run by a red-haired woman named Harriet who was one of those neat freak people. Because every time we would pick something up, she would be right behind us straightening the piece on the rack. I noticed a man in the nearby vitamin kiosk was chuckling a bit as she followed us around like a lost dog. But Whitney finally picked out a silver key necklace and we watched Harriet wave to us good bye and wish us a good day.

It was almost three o'clock before we were back home. Whitney immediately went to check on her plants sitting by the window and I went back up to my room to figure out what to say to Owen. I planned to tell him exactly what happened. I would tell him what had made it so hard to open up to other people. In my mind talking to him about this would probably be the hardest thing. But you can always surprise yourself.

x x x

I parked my car in his driveway and slowly made my way down the concrete path. I stood in front of the door and rang the door bell. Minutes passed before Owen appeared in a ratty tee shirt and shorts.

"Hey, Annabel," He seemed more pleased to see than he had this morning. He led me into the large living room. "Want anything?" He asked from the kitchen.

"No thanks." I said softly and took a seat on the couch.

But he reappeared anyway with two Dr. Peppers in hand. "For you," He said when placing the soda on the coffee table in front of me. We sat there in silence for only seconds before he asked the question I had been anticipating.

"So what do you want to talk about?" He said after taking a long sip of soda.

"I need to explain what had happened at Bendo last week. I need to tell you why it happened." I took a deep breath and waited to see if he'd say anything. But he didn't so I continued, "You know how I said I wasn't so friendly with Clarke that night?" He nodded. "It's because of this thing that happened the first week of last summer." He gave me look. "I know, I know, I used a placeholder." I groaned and put my head in my hands. "I didn't realize this would be so hard to explain." I felt him slide next to me. He didn't touch me, but knowing he was there calmed me.

"Just say what needs to be said." He told me and then placed his arm across my shoulders. "I promise I won't judge you on anything." He pulled away and looked me straight in the face. So I told him the entire story. I told him about Sophie and Clarke. I told him about Will too. And in the end he wrapped his arms around me and for the first time in ages, I cried.

I don't know how long we sat there like that, but our faces ended up so close together, he dove. At first the kisses were soft. Tiny pecks on my cheek, on my lips, on my nose. But then he gripped me harder, held me stronger and knocked me down on my back. Though unlike Will, he actually knew me, and actually loved me. He pulled me closer to him but suddenly backed away. His face looked, almost scared. He came close and touched my face. I felt the coolness of his ring graze my cheekbone while I watched him lift his other hand to me face and brush away a lingering salty tear from my eye.

"Annabel," He whispered my name softly. "You need to know that I would never, ever hurt you like that." I nodded. He stood and pulled me to my feet. He led me down a hallway and pushed open a door. We stood there in the dark, and then he whispered my name once more. "Annabel, do you trust me?" He already knew what my answer was going to me. So I went up on my tip toes and wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him hard. He pulled me back onto the bed behind us.

While he was kissing me, I heard the softest of music playing,

The End