Hayloooooooooo everybody out there! New Zevie one shot/song fic and I hope you like it!
This is heavily based on the music video for 'Try' by the cast of Side Effects, because every time I watch it, I imagine Zach as Zander and Lexi as Stevie (but mainly because its Lulu)
Anyway read it love it PEACE #
Ever wonder 'bout, what he's doin'
How it all turned to lies
Sometimes I think that it's better
To never ask why
Stevie's POV
I slam the door shut, my face surely contorted into the most hideous and pathetic sight. I almost trip on every step on the staircase, my eyes are stinging so badly and half closed. I hear Dylan shouting something that sounds vagely like my name, but it's hard to focus on anything except the ringing in my ears, and the memory of the worst moment of my life.
I run to the bathroom, once again slamming the door. I sit on the edge of the rusty bathtub, and try to clam myself down. I put my head in my hands, letting, what I think is the last teardrops fall onto my palms and slide down my wrists. I slowly look up at the mirror.
Hideous.
What little mascara I had on was smeared almost to the length of my whole nose. The pink lipstick that I managed to put on without gagging was mainly fine, but a bloody cut, the length of my bottom lip was on the right corner, making it look very out of place. The nicest jacket I could afford, white leather, was grotesquely muddy and ripped, wasting the $50 dollars I had begged my mom for.
Of course he didn't really like you. Look at you, you filthy mongrel.
But, as I stood up, I realized that the fact I was a mess wasn't the hideous part. The lipstick. The jacket. The borrowed dress. I was just like every other girl now. Fake, a Barbie doll of some little girls sickeningly sweet daydream. And I hated it. I let out a disgruntled moan and smeared the lipstick off, and ran my eyes under the sink to wash off all the makeup.
I finally look up, carefully. The sight of my now red eyelids brings back what I've been dying to avoid. The memory.
Flashback
I tried to yank down the excruciatingly tight leggings I had basically stretched out from the first day I wore them, while my eyes search the room for a certain blonde haired boyfriend.
I feel a hand on my shoulder. Strong, and firm, but not too threatening, still warm and inviting. It's not Justin's angelic hold, because it's not perfect. I know whose it is, but I don't want to talk to him right now.
"Go away, Zander…" I mutter.
"Stevie, just wait a second, okay?" He persists. I turn around and see his eyes lined with dark circles. He hasn't been sleeping. For a second, a flutter of guilt passes through me, making me want to throw up, but it quickly settles when I see a glimpse of the face that could only be Justin's.
"Goodbye, and good riddance."
"Just a second-"
"Why?! So you can judge my life and how I do things? Because wake up Zander, I am not just someone that'll do whatever you want. I'm not one of your obsessed fangirls that will do anything that comes from your mouth, and worship you at your command!" I spit, poison dripping from every word.
He isn't fazed. He's seen me this angry before. "I know! You're right, you're not."
He takes me by the shoulder, looking me in the eyes. "You're my best friend, and you know me better than anyone else. So you know that I never lied when I said I wanted you to be happy with Justin. I'll always be there for you Stevie, but I wont always be there to warn you, so take that option while you still can."
I inhale deeply, the smell of his cologne failing to pollute my lungs like very other day. That was deep. He's right, I should listen to him while I still have the option. But that doesn't mean he's right about Justin. I slowly turn my back to him, and mumble another goodbye, before heading in the direction of Justin.
Until I saw him taking his 15th beer.
"Justin? Baby, I'm tired can we go home?" I say quietly, trying not to make him angry. He may be perfect most of the time, but when he has too much to drink…
"Shut up!" He tries to shout, but instead comes out a slow slur. He scowls and throws his empty beer bottle on the floor. The glass shatters in a fraction of a second, sending one flying across my lip. Blood trickles slowly down my chin and into my mouth. My eyes are stinging from holding back tears.
"Stupid bitch…" He mumbles, turning back to the bar, before slurring again," Get lost, Loserberry!"
It's like he'd forgotten. Like all those happy memories meant nothing to him, and neither did I. The tears finally came spilling out like a waterfall, and I sprinted out of the room vision blurred. Out of the corner of stained eye, a figure watched me walk away, eyes widened, and lip trembling.
Zander.
Where there is desire there is gonna be a flame
Where there is a flame someone's bound to get burnt
Normally I wouldn't care, I mean I'm the resident tough girl, resistant of any emotions when it came to breakups of any kind. But this was different. Justin had told me I was special, and had been my partner for two months now. I thought that he was different, but I guess that you can never truly trust men.
I see a crack in the glass that makes a line through my face, making it look shattered. And that's how I feel. It's happened before, after my brother left for the army and we found out he wouldn't be coming home for an extra two years after the first five. I felt like my whole world was like a glass box that I was trapped in, to keep me from being hurt, or feeling emotions.
But the slightest movement or sound from anything inside or out, and the glass would break. Only slightly at first, until it finally came crashing down tonight.
The tears have started up again, and I don't hesitate to let them flow.
Then for some reason, I think of the one person I didn't want to this week. But that person was the one who helped me piece my glass box back together every time it broke. The one person who would always help me, even if it meant they suffered in the process.
I grab my phone and find their contact. I manage to type the words in, my fingers shaking and tears falling onto the screen.
I need u.
Funny how the heart can be deceiving
More than just a couple times
Why do we fall in love so easy?
Even when it's not right
Zander's POV
Stevie. She texted.
I need u.
I don't need to get ready. I was already in the car waiting for her to text or call. When I saw her leave the party in tears, I knew she wouldn't want anyone to follow her right away, but if she needed me then she would tell me. I knew it wouldn't be far away. Because Stevie Baskara barely ever cries over a boy.
I start the car and drive off to Stevie's house.
*5 mins later*
I run through the door, not bothering to be quiet, knowing full well that her family were probably expecting me. I hear sobbing coming from upstairs, and I follow the sound till I get to their upstairs bathroom. I gently open the door, but quickly, and see her.
She doesn't look as good as she did at the party, obviously. She looked amazing, stunning. But I couldn't tell her that. The mascara that had been running down her face as she left had been cleaned up as much as possible, but it was still noticeable under the eyes. She had cleaned up any excess blood on her face from the cut, but the wound still remained. She sat on the bath, just staring at her reflection. Expressionless.
"Oh my god, Stevie…" I sigh, her eyes still not meeting me. I rush to her side and try to get her to look at me. I kneel down and lift up her chin gently, and she quickly glances back at me, before turning back to herself.
I hear her humming a gentle tune. It's beautiful, but you can hear the trembles shaking some of the sounds. Her hearts broken, and although I piece most of it back together, there'll always be a few cracks and scars that may never heal.
I cautiously remove her jacket, and she soon stands up.
"Shower." She mumbles looking me in the eyes, finally. I nod, knowingly, and turn around. I hear the sounds of her removing her shirt. It's not like this hasn't happened before, where she has been unable to shower by herself, so I have to help her. Not naked, but only undergarments that wont spoil if they're wet.
She murmurs to me, signaling that she's ready, and I turn around. I hold her hand and lead her into the shower, starting it up. I stand just outside the area of splash back, but close enough to hold Stevie. I gently tuck her hair behind her ears, as the hot water soaks her hair until its beautifully soft.
The tune from earlier comes up again, but I can make out the words. It's so beautiful, and Stevie's voice is as pure as water.
"Where there is desire there is gonna be a flame, and where there is a flame someone's bound to get burned." She looks like she's going to keep singing, but I get the feeling that she can't find the energy to think of any other words. I leave it be.
She, unexpectedly, leans in and presses her forehead onto mine. I don't pull away.
Where there is desire there is gonna be a flame
And where there is a flame someone's bound to get burned
*5 mins later*
I dry Stevie off and head next door to her room. I sit her down on the bed, and try to give a reassuring smile. But I know it's not working, and I feel like I'm about to cry too.
"Stay. Please." She whispers, tears on the brink of creeping down her face.
"I was going to."
But just because it burns doesn't mean you're gonna die
You gotta get up and try, try, try
And for the first time tonight, she actually smiles. Even if only small and half-hearted, it's a sign that she won't be forever broken.
She lays down on the right side of the bed, and lay on the left. No covers, just lying there. I feel like I should fall asleep, but I just can't.
She starts singing again.
"Where there is desire there is gonna be a flame, and where there is a flame someone's bound to get burned." By now, I've heard this tune repeatedly, and I've been silently writing an ending for it that might cheer Stevie up.
"But just because it burns doesn't mean you're gonna die, you gotta get up and try, try, try." I sing quietly. Her ears perk up and she turns her head to me. But to my disappointment, no smile again.
Instead, she flips, so that her body is facing me, and wraps her arms around my chest, pulling me into a tight embrace. I don't pull away.