Self-Conclusion - A Rugrats (All Grown Up) fanfic
Chapter 1 - On Tiptoes...
A/N: Well.. it's pretty much been forever since I've updated. I've been stuck on my Kim Possible fic, the one I've mentioned in my story. It's interestingly hard for a fifteen-year-old virgin to write a nice, lemony-fresh fanfiction. XD For the slow:
Yes, Dil is very OOC in this fanfiction.. If you don't like an angsty Dil Pickles, then don't read. Don't eat me alive for it. I kinda thought about what it would take for Dil to lose his spunky attitude.. and why not a girl?
I was listening to "Self-Conclusion" by The Spill Canvas, and for some reason, I thought of Dil for this story. Go figure. Maybe it was because of all the Rugrats fics I had been reading.
Dil and any Rugrats/All Grown Up characters mentioned in later chapters are copyright Klasky/Csupo, etc. etc. But Rachel and Emily and anyone non-Rugrats character mentioned are mine. :0)
regular print... regular words
italics... flashback, thoughts or emphasized words
(this is backwards in flashbacks. :P regular words are in italics and emphasized words and thoughts are in regular print.)
Friday, October 13th. It had been ten years since she'd left. And I was still as broken up as I was then.
--
"Dil, I need to talk to you."
"Okay. What's up, Rach?"
"Well, we'll be going off to college soon, right?"
"Yeah...?"
"We might both be going to Juilliard, which is awesome..."
"Yeeeah...Rachel, what are you getting at?"
She sighed. "Look, Dil. High school, it's...it's a thing of the past. In order to move on properly, we need to let go of high school and all its relationships. Do you get what I'm saying?"
I did. But I didn't want it to be true. Please,God, don't let it be true!
I played dumb."Uh...I'm not sure."
She exhaled sharply. "Dil...I think we should try...seeing other people."
I said nothing for the longest time. I could feel a dull pain in my chest. Like my heart was literally breaking in half, right in my fucking chest.
"Why?"
"Come on, Dil...if we go to college next month attached, we could be holding each other back from bigger and better things. Better people."
"Am I not good enough or something?" I blurted out. I tried my best not to sound angry, even though I was. I didn't want an angry stare to be her last memory of me.
"No, that's not it."
"Then what is it?"
"What if we're not meant for each other? What if our soulmates are out there, waiting for us? If we stay together, we might miss those special people. And we'll end up heartbroken in the end."
My mind was screaming all sorts of incoherent things. I wanted to say something. Anything. Anything to make her stay. But all I could bring myself to say was, "Yeah."
"Phew! I'm so glad you understand!"
Fuck, Rachel...you're REALLY not seeing through this front I'm putting on? "Uh-huh."
"Well, I'd better go. I have a dinner date with my friends."
"Rachel, wait."
"What?"
"Just...just do me one thing."
"All right."
"One last kiss. I want my last memory of you to be a good one."
She smiled sympathetically and replied, "Okay."
--
I felt a chill and wrapped my arms around myself as I recalled that kiss. Probably the worst goodbye kiss in all history; it was robbed of all passion. I could tell by the way she moved her lips and tongue that she felt nothing. She was practically taunting me; her actions said "Ha! This is everything you are about to lose! Loser."
I, on the other hand, was in aching pain. All I could think about as we kissed was how this would be the last; we would never share this moment again. I could taste the strawberry melon gum that she was chewing. She even left that damn gum in my mouth! Then she walked away, flashing me one last wanton smile. I called out idiotically after her, telling her not to forget me. I'm sure my speech was garbled by the large wad of gum in my mouth. I chewed that gum for another good two hours. Then I put it with my used gum collection. Which I still have. And I know precisely which one is hers. It's the biggest one in there.
Not all my strange hobbies from my childhood left me after high school. I laughed to myself, somewhat bitterly. God I miss her.
Up until this evening, I'd been seeing a girl named Emily Lawrence. She's 27 and a veterinarian's assistant. We accidentally ran into each other outside a Starbuck's a couple years ago, and we hit it off right away. She was apparently a big fan of mine back when I was still Dylan the Great, three years ago. The "virtuoso of love gone wrong", critics called me. Most of my songs pertained to that.
All for Rachel.
Emily was great, don't get me wrong. We'd been dating for about nine months. But today was The Anniversary. And when I woke up this morning, I realized that, even after an entire decade, I was still hopelessly in love with Rachel Printz.
--
"Emily, I'm sorry...but I think we should just...be friends. We shouldn't date anymore." I stared at my coffee, not wanting to see her eyes.
She was surprisingly okay with it. "All right. I-I can live with that." I looked up. "Really?" "Well, I can't say I'm not upset. But I'll be fine. You've been acting off for the past couple months; I guess I sort of saw it coming." "I see." "Yeah. No hard feelings. You're a great guy, Pickles," she said, playfully punching me in the arm. I rubbed the spot where she hit me and smiled. "Thanks. You're great too, Em." I laughed a little. "And you have great taste in coffee." She laughed too. "Thank you! But I have to ask, why?" I raised my eyebrow. "Why do you have good taste in coffee...?" "Haha, no, that's not what I meant. I meant...why is it over between us?" "Oh. Shit, honestly?" "Yeah. Honestly. No shit." I smiled a little at that one. "Honestly...I'm still in love with someone else." "The girl in all your songs?" "How'd you know?" "Dil, I'm a songwriter, too. And I know when a man writes that many heartwrenching ballads, all about a love lost, there HAS to be a girl in real life. Besides, I saw you talk about her on TV. One of the talk shows you were on..." I chuckled. I wonder if Rachel saw me, too...
"She must've been one special girl."
"She was. She still is." Even after ten years. Ten long years...
Emily smiled and kissed me on the cheek. "I hope she realizes the mistake she made when she walked away. Keep in touch, Pickles."
"I will...Em."
--
Emily was the closest thing to my perfect woman I had ever found. But that was just it. She was the closest thing. Rachel was perfect. My perfect woman.
Rachel was the only girl who ever found my gross habits funny. Lil and Kimi did when we were little, but as we grew older,theychanged. Rachel didn't, though. She was the one thing in my life that was constant...until that day.
She wrote poetry like a female Shakespeare. She sang like an angel and graced many a stage with her acting.
She saw me. She completed me. No one could compare, and no one ever will.
I saw her frequently at Juilliard, usually with a guy. Dancers. Actors. Opera singers. Pianists. Flutists. Trombonists. Every breed of talent. And she was always happy...until she saw my face.
At 22, just months after we graduated, I was offered a recording contract. A producer heard me singing and playing my guitar...on my fucking apartment balcony! My dream come true! Only one thing was different: I wasn't doing musical comedy. Far from it. Musical comedians don't write "heartwrenching ballads", in Emily's words.
I retired, I guess you could say. I enjoyed it for three years and then it felt as though I had sung my all. I had sung my songs for Rachel, and I'd sing no more. For the past three years, I had been working as an accompanist and a songwriter for the same label that carried me.
All that gave me my wonderful home in Beach Mount Estates, high above the shores of North Carolina; you'd think I would've been happy. But I wasn't. Money can't buy love. Money can't buy the girl of your dreams.
And that is why I was standing on that cliff, at that moment. I stared back at my ocean-view estate, my pool, and my three-car garage and wondered if it was all worth it. I had no one to share it with. I'd been living alone for the past two years, ever since I broke things off with my ex-ex-girlfriend, Moriah. We lasted a year and a half until I came to realize that she only wanted to be with me for my fame and fortune.
I can't believe I let her live with me. I can't believe I almost fell in love with her.
She was no Rachel, Dil. Neither was Emily or Samantha. None of them were. None of them ever will be.
A single tear rolled down my cold face as I thought this. Dammit, why didn't I ask her to stay! It wasn't that hard! I could've shouted, "No Rachel! Don't leave! Don't walk away! We are meant to be together; WE ARE SOULMATES!" But I let her go. And there was no way I could take it back.
I stood on my tiptoes and peered over the edge of the cliff at the water and rocks below. It was a good fifty-foot drop. I thought for a moment, how easy and fast it would be...what was left to live for anyways?
Fuck, how wonderful and soothing it would feel to hit that water, to hit those rocks. They'd take me, unlike her...
I heard a sudden noise. Turning around, I noticed a woman about ten feet away from me. She was wearing black platform heels and a trenchcoat similra to mine, which, left untied, was blowing around in the wind in time with her dark hair. I saw smoke rise from the corners of her lips and spotted the orange glow of a cigarette in her left hand.
I found myself walking toward her slowly; she seemed so familiar, though I was almost positive I'd never met her. She stood in silence, barely moving, other than her obvious shivering due to the cold air, smoke billowing from her mouth, the stench of vodka wafting from her. I wondered how someone could be this inebriated at only 9:06 in the evening...
When I was only about a foot away from her, she suddenly flinched. Pressing her cigarette into her bare hand, the woman stood up on her tiptoes, leaning forward, dangerously close to the edge of the cliff...
I drew in a sharp breath of air.
"NOOO...!"
A/N.2: Of course that's not the end! Heh. I believe this is what we call a "cliffhanger"... tee hee. I haven't written the second chapter yet anyways. Be looking out for it within the next few days. R&R like crazy (good preferably, but bad if it's necessary); it might make me post sooner. Cheers, all!
PS If Beach Mount Estates is a real place in North Carolina...then I've learned something new. )