A/N: Ok, a lot of you may remember this fic from a while ago. I decided to re-write it after going back and reading some of the earlier chapters. Once again, enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show, or Jack Johnson.
Chapter 1: Sitting, Waiting, Wishing
I sat there, waiting. For what, I didn't know. My only reason to wait left a while ago when I realized he would probably never come back. Nevertheless, I just couldn't let go, no matter how hard I tried. And I did try. Every day of my life I wanted to forget I ever met Tom Quincy and that any of this ever happened. But every day I found myself waiting for him to show up just the same. Maybe there's something wrong with me, I thought with a sigh. He left over 2 years ago after ruining my life and I'm still waiting for him to return. I must be insaneā¦but, we were happy togetherā¦
My thoughts were interrupted by my cell phone ringing. I glanced at the caller id to see that it was Georgia. I groaned. I did not feel like working today. Oh well.
"Hey Georgia," I greeted when I opened the phone.
"Jude, hi. Do you think you could come to the studio? We need you here ASAP."
"Sure," I said, a little curious. "But, why?"
"We need you to finish your song by tomorrow, is that ok?" she asked distractedly. I could tell she had something else she was taking care of while she was talking to me.
"Um, sure. I- I'll be right there."
"Ok." There was a brief pause. "Listen, I have to go. See you at the studio, ok?"
"Ok," I said, kind of annoyed that she was calling me over at 7:30 am on a Saturday. Nevertheless, I grabbed my keys and my bag and drove off towards G major.
At G major
When I walked in, the first thing I saw was Kwest talking to Georgia. I couldn't hear exactly what they were saying since I was on the other side of the lobby, but I heard my name a few times and assumed they were talking about me being late for work, so I walked up to tell them I was there.
"Hey guys. Sorry I'm late; traffic was murder." I winced, remembering seeing a blue viper on my way to the studio.
"It's ok", said Kwest, who looked a little tired. "So was I. Why don't you go to studio A and I'll meet you there? I have to, uh, talk to Georgia." I eyed them suspiciously. Kwest seemed to have hurried his speech, and Georgia was surprisingly quiet. I could tell something was up, but decided to ignore it.
"Alright. See you, Georgia."
"Bye." I walked off into studio A and picked up my guitar, waiting for Kwest. There seems to be a lot of waiting going on in my life lately, I thought. That was why I wrote that song. It also happened to be one of the things I hated the most.
I started humming the tune to my new song, a tune that, in my head, sounded kind of like a Beatles song. Maybe that's why I don't like the tune. The Beatles always remind me of...
"Jude." Kwest's voice snapped me out of my thoughts once again. "We should get to work on recording that song."
"Right," I said. I walked into the booth, put on the headphones, and started to sing:
I was sitting, waiting, wishing
You believed in superstitions
Then maybe you would see the signs
But lord knows that this world is cruel
And I ain't the lord no, I'm just a fool
Learning loving somebody
Don't make them love you
Must I always be waiting, waiting on you?
Must I always be playing, playing your fool?
I sang your songs and I danced your dance
I gave your friends all a chance
But putting up with them
Wasn't worth never having you
Maybe you've been through this before
But it's my first time so please ignore
The next few lines because they're all directed at you
I can't always be waiting, waiting on you
I can't always be playing, playing your fool
I keep playing your part
But it's not my scene
Want this plot to twist
I've had enough mystery
You keep building it up
But then you're shooting me down
But I'm already down
Wait a minute
Just sitting, waiting
Just wait a minute
Just sitting, waiting
Well if I was in your position
I'd put down all my ammunition
I'd wonder why it had taken me so long
But lord knows that I'm not you
And if I was I wouldn't be so cruel
Because waiting on love
Ain't so easy to do
Must I always be waiting, waiting on you?
Must I always be playing, playing your fool?
I had been so wrapped up in my song, I hadn't noticed when the door opened and someone came in, silently sitting down in one of the chairs in front of the soundboard. The song ended and I tore off my headphones and walked over to the studio, only to be greeted by the same face that had haunted my dreams for the past two years. He was back. And he wasn't the only one.
A/N: R&R.
