Hi everyone! So, this is my first IS fanfic, but it has seriously been floating in my head for EVER. I started writing this way before Jude and Tommy even got together on the show before her eighteenth. So As for the timeline thing.. I guess it's kind of cuts off from the show right before the episode they got together. The Angie thing didn't happen. It's a future fic though. Jude is 20. PLEASE let me know what you think, or if I should continue! I worked really hard on it.
Oh. This is written in second POV, and this chapter is in Jude's.
What is a halo? Well, according to Webster it's the aura of glory or sentiment surrounding an idealized person or thing. You guess being Jamie's best friend wore off on you at some point, because there is no real logical reason you would know that. You hear jokes about not-so-innocent people having halos, or being 'angelic'. Or even in the opposite connotation, being mocked because they live a life that most would find safe- possibly even boring. It makes it seem so positive, so perfect, so - well you don't know what the word is, but you know whatever it is, it is wrong. What happens when you're the one idealized? Sometimes the glow is blinding, and the ideals are impossible to maintain. So it leaves you with nothing but the empty pit in the bottom of your stomach. What if the halo never fades away? Are you doomed to burn out like a star that's burned it's last blaze? And then you finally do blaze out, because, face it, all stars fade eventually. As Celine Dion once so delicately sang along with rain and tax, it is just inevitable. Is your idolizer still going to be there with a flashlight to help you find your way?
Tommy is your life. He's your best friend, your producer, your boyfriend, and as far as you're concerned he's the love of your life. There is absolutely nothing you wouldn't do for him, but sometimes you hate the way he looks at you. You hate the way that you know he sees you. You're his girl, his angel. You're completely terrified to wake up one morning and have him realize that you're not perfect. You're so incredibly afraid to lose him sometimes, it makes it hard to breathe. Apparently breathing is essential to life. Who knew. Probably should have paid more attention in school, and less time writing meaningless songs with Jamie on how to change the world. Then again, you might not have Tommy, and that just isn't fathomable to you anymore. Tommy is your other half, and that probably scares you most of all. You are so intertwined that you're not sure how you'd survive without him. Just like you can't have coffee without milk- no matter what ANYONE says- you can not be without Tommy. He's the beat of your heart- No. He is the blood that runs through your veins. Without him, you would deteriorate to nothing. It is a fact. You know. You knew it the night after you performed at the Vinyl Palace, when he told you that writing a song was like falling in love. It wasn't "like"- it was. You'd already fallen in love with boy-bander Little Tommy Q, and there was not a damn thing you could do about it. Because as he said, you were fifteen and way out of bounds. Thank whoever it was that decided to create a calender so you were eventually in bounds, and doom those that made it wrong to begin with. Nothing about the way you felt for him was wrong. It was blissfully, heart-achingly right. Quite a contradiction you realize, but since when was love simple? If it was simple, you wouldn't have this pit in your stomach. The pit of doom. Because no matter how many love songs you write that say otherwise, you still have no idea whether love is enough or not. Why can't anyone give you THAT answer? Instead of if your bathing suit was in the top twenty of the hottest styles of the summer. Truthfully, you really just did NOT care.
He already left for the studio a few hours ago. You'd promised you'd be in by noon. It is now 11:07, and you still haven't gotten in the shower. What can you say, there is more than one perk to living with your producer. Darius, on the other hand, well that's another story. He hasn't exactly approved of your relationship, but there isn't much he can do as long you make great music. Not to blow your own horn, but you make damn good music together. Writing a song with him is one of your absolute favorite things to do in the entire world. God, or whoever you decide to believe in at the appropriate time, willing, you will be doing it for a long time. The only problem is that sometimes there are just some things you don't want Tommy to know, and you think he has problems with that sometimes. Which is pretty irritating since he is the king of secrets. You've known him five years, dated him for two, lived with him for one, and sometimes you still can't shake the feeling that you know next to nothing about him. Yet, he gets irritated that some of your songs are just that- yours. They aren't meant to be recorded, or shared, or discussed. They are just your venting mill. You never said living with him didn't have it's downsides either.
12:24. Not too bad, right? You've done much worse. Let's just hope Tommy sees it that way. You doubt it. "Hey Tommy." You give your best smile as you make your way into Studio B where Tommy has taken permanent residence during work hours. Something about the vibes, or echoes? You don't know exactly. You trust him though.
"You're late, again, girl." You bite your lower lip softly as he looks at you disapprovingly, the fear that he'd finally realized just how many things you had wrong with you welling up in your chest faster than usual. The way his eyes flickered quickly, his chest rising steadily let you know that he was kidding though, so you take the sarcastic/sincere route, the route most traveled in your case, because that's what he likes to hear. He likes to see you smile and joke with him about truly anything. If it puts a smile on his face, it's enough for you. Even though you can't help but wonder if that feeling is mutual. You pray to the clear skies every time that it is. Unfortunately, clear skies had become almost obsolete in the recent weeks. Damn the weather man for warning you. At least you could have lived in hopeful harmony as you stared up at the sky.
"All apologies, baby." You tighten your grasp on your notebook until a smile breaks on his face. The notebook that he'd given you. Well, the twelfth one he gave you. All identical, all have your named seemingly engraved on the cover. You'd originally had notebooks for different moods you'd found yourself in, but you'd found it was completely too difficult to carry around a notebook for all the emotions you ran through in a day, and it was much easier to keep one at a time, more of a collage of emotions so that you wouldn't be completely happy as you read through them, or in some cases unbelievably depressed. And although you don't like to admit it much, you know that you have more than a few notebooks full of angry songs as well. These, for the most part, are the songs that you don't want Tommy to read. You'll face your insecurities when you're ready, and not a moment sooner.
"Lucky for you, D has been in a meeting for an hour." He chuckles, and you finally release the breath you weren't quite aware you were holding. You could have sworn you'd convinced yourself he was joking before you'd given your flirty apology, but you were proven wrong- as usual. Being proven wrong was not uncommon for you these days, a fact that drove you mad enough to lock yourself in a room for hours at a time and write song after song about how much you truly detested it all.
"Ass." You mutter before closing the distance between you two and climb onto his lap, your legs going on either side of his, using your hands to cup his face, bringing his lips to yours in a sensual kiss. It was kisses like that that reminded you why exactly you were living with glooming worry. He did, in fact, complete you. And you believed, against everything outside the two of you to tell you otherwise, that you completed him as well. You had to.
"You do know I'm still here, right guys?" Kwest laughs at you as he refocuses his attention to the recording area, where SME is recording their sec-, no, third song of their first CD. You miss them already. They'd stayed with you longer than you'd expected because of loyalty. As much as you missed them though, you were so incredibly excited for them. They were never meant to be just a back up band. They had so much talent. You realize that it's odd that you're thinking about their musical talents while you are kissing your boyfriend, but it's hard not to when they are practically giving you a live performance. A performance that you were no longer in, and that fact in itself, it hurt you more than you cared to admit. Because to anyone else, including Tommy, you were only over-the-moon happy for them. You were sure you would be as soon as you found a back up band that you liked even half as much as you loved those guys. They were your family, and with the way your own family turned out, you needed them around. Loosing them wasn't an option either- not really.
Tommy whines for a moment before pulling away from the kiss long enough to press the speaker button. "Take 5, guys."
"HEY JUDE!" The guys yell out, and you can't help but laugh as you lean into the speaker, sending them the sorriest look you can muster. What can you say, you missed him in the four- no five hours since you'd last seen him. That'd only been brief. Just long enough for him to wake you up to tell you he was leaving, and just enough time for a tiny kiss goodbye. Too tiny, you realize as your memory flashed the kiss before your eyes, almost as if your had no part in it at all. It was as if you were having an outer body experience. And although you'd never actually asked, you wondered if he had similar revelations. Like for instance, in this memory, you now distinctly remember the way he'd used just his powerful eyes to wake you as he dressed himself. Because as it often happens, your bad habit of always being late had definitely rubbed off on him, whether he would ever admit it to anyone or not.
"Sorry guys." You laugh as they all leave the room, each giving their thoughts on your "sickening loveyness."
"On that note, I'm going to go eat lunch. See you two later." Kwest leaves quickly, leaving the two of you alone.
"You didn't tell me you were working with SME today. I would have taken the day off." You grin, readjusting yourself just a little bit closer to him than you'd been previously.
"I know." He grins sheepishly. "That's why I didn't tell you. Besides, we're almost done, then I'm all yours."
"All mine?" You grin as you lean into his ear, letting your tongue flicker onto his earlobe for a mere second before pulling away.
"Oh, why must you do this to me at work?" He groans as he tightens his grasp on your hips. "You know D will kill us if he catches us again."
"Because I can." You grin at him before leaning into his neck, leaving soft butterfly kisses at all of his most sensitive places. All of which you've come to love as much as every other part of him. Especially when you can feel the roaring in his throat as the moan begs to leave his lips.
"Hasn't anyone ever told you not to start what you can't finish, girl?" His voice comes out low and husky, and if anything, it only encourages you to continue. It's just so damn sexy. Not to mention how his eyes turn this dark color that is completely hypnotizing. He is hypnotizing.
"Who said anything about not finishing?" You offer a wicked grin as you slip out of his grasp, and walk to the doorway to close the blinds, and lock the door. When you turn back to him, his eyes are bulged open from surprise. It's not the first time you had have had sex at G- Major, just the first time during normal business hours. But a girl's gotta live sometime, and what's better than the present, you decide.
"S... Seriously?" He croaks as he looks through the recording studio at the the wall that was made mostly of glass with no blinds. Inevitably thinking of probably the hundreds people that could see you two.
You grin as you walk past him to sit on the couch that'd been placed in there the week before for SME. "I'll be quiet." You bite your index finger softly as you lower yourself onto the couch that was barely off the ground.
"Like that's possible." He laughs as he slides out of his chair, making his way to you, probably waiting for you to declare it a big bluff. A declaration that you're SURE isn't coming.
"You know there's no stopping this when I get down there, right?" He grins as he stands in front of you. You simply nod with a smile as you grab onto his hands, pulling him down beside you so you can climb on him again.
"You're perfect, girl." He mumbles against your lips, and as quickly as you'd started it, it was over. He just had to say it, he couldn't stop himself. You slide off him, reclasping your bra that he'd made quick work to get rid of.
"Wha.. What's wrong?" He asks, completely unaware of what he'd done wrong. Guys can be so stupid sometimes. Given, most girls like being called perfect. But your not most girls. Why couldn't he just of said he loved you like a normal guy? Except for the fact that Tommy rarely says 'I love you'. On rare occasions it slips, but never during sex. You get the idea, but sometimes you just wish he'd break his own rules. Perfect is so unattainable. You're about as far from perfect as they come.
"The guys will be back in a minute. I... It'd just be weird." You offer your best smile at him before running your fingers through your hair to fix any kinks. "I.. I'll make it up to you, promise." You smile before unlocking the door, and walking out. Damn it. Damn perfection to the deepest depths of purgatory.
Thoughts? Love? Hate? Bored to tears? Please let me know!
OMG! Side note to Loren! YOU ARE MY HERO! Thank you SO much for all of your help!! You rock!