A/N: This will effectively serve as my first, last, and only Zoey101 fanfic. I really didn't watch the show much, only catching it in marathons on Nick if there was nothing else to watch and all i really wanted to do was veg on the couch. I found the show unredemable, and badly written. There was potential, the characters could be endearing at time, but unfortunately the plots of each episode lacked anything substansive and the jokes were childish at best. I actually only became interested in the show when the pairing of Logan and Quinn came about and was utterly dissapointed when nothing of value or depth came from the coupling. I mean, seriously, had these writers ever even heard of developement. Well. I guess if your peeking in on this your either a curious past reader of my work or an actual fan of the show. On either account, you probably don't give two shits about my assessment of Zoey101. I only tell you all of this because it was how the story came about. I was sitting there wondering one day feeling disgustingly unsatisfied with the choatic rush they called a romance between Logan and Quinn and wondered if the show had spurred any inspiring fanfiction. Lo and behold, it really hadn't, unless anyone has any recommendations? No? Maybe? Whatever. Doing the only thing any writer in my position would think to do, I decided to write a fanfic of my own. And here it is. TADAAAA! Yay, I had a point!
That being said, I will also note that this will quite possibly be the final thing that thesolitary-dragon will ever post on this site save for the random reviews that may or may not pop up every now and then whilst I'm bored. It's kind of pathetic, I know, that it's a Zoey101 fic and I should have really ended with a bang. Something along the lines of finishing my much better stories that really deserve an ending, but I assure you, even if you're not a fan of this show you might enjoy my fanfic. As is always the case with my readers. I have a nasty habit of picking up fans that never browse the fandoms I write in and utterly abhor the shows I write for but apparently love my work. Anyways, I want to focus my writing on my original works, that have sadly been neglected for years.
Moving right along. Please read. Please REVIEW. Please be harsh.
ENJOY!
A Theory on Quarks
The sun is just beginning to set as I lean heavily against the white balcony, my empty glass resting atop the railing, an unlit cigarette casually set between my fingers. I'd loosened my tie, a soft gold silk thing, and the jacket of my nice Armani tux was sprawled across the bed in my room. Spread below me is the mansion garden and I can see green stretching for miles, a grandiose granite fountain standing in the middle of it all, and amongst the blooming flowers I can just make out the white tops of dozens of tents.
That was where the wedding had taken place. The ceremony having ended hours ago. The servants were probably still cleaning everything up while the guests enjoyed the reception.
I sigh, wishing I hadn't finished off my bourbon so quickly because acquiring more would involve heading back to the party and I just didn't think I could handle it for another second. The music, the dancing, the laughing, the endless cheer and merriment.
It wasn't as though I were in a bad mood or that I didn't want to be there. Hell, I wouldn't have missed the wedding for the world even if it hadn't taken place at my home.
I guess it all just made me too nostalgic. Watching an old friend tie the knot, well, it made me feel old. I started to think about how much my life, all of our lives, had changed since graduating from Pacific Coast Academy. I would be graduating in a semester from Stanford Medical and I already had my internship lined up. Back then, in the old days, no one would have foreseen me going the path I did. It reflected in the way that they all spoke to me now as though suddenly they regarded me in a different light. As if there were something there that they hadn't seen before but now that I had forfeited my childish dreams of becoming Hollywood's next big hotshot and pursued a more socially admirable career they could see the true me.
I raise the cigarette to my lips, let it rest there as I scrounge my pockets for my lucky lighter. I frown when I realize I had tucked it securely in my tux jacket. I turn to retrieve it and pause, hand raised to the cigarette, startled as I find I am no longer alone on the balcony.
There at the entrance stands the only man at the wedding with messier curls than mine. That's not to say my gorgeous tresses are anything like the hedge he calls hair, but the description is similar in words. He's tall, lanky, and still dressed stiffly in his cheap rent-a-tux. I note, with glee, he's carrying a bottle of what looks suspiciously like brandy. He seems just as startled to see me as I am him. For a moment we are in a standstill, eyes locked, assessing one another. Our bodies poised, not certain whether to welcome the other or bolt from the scene. He moves his head almost imperceptibly, a slight nod motioning the cigarette balanced precariously on my bottom lip.
"I thought you quit,"■ he says.
"I did,"■ I respond, "You got a light?"■
He relaxes then, his shoulders drooping as the weight of our unexpected encounter falls off them. He digs into his pocket, produces a matchbook and strides across the balcony to hand them over.
I smirk, "Thanks".■ I rip a match out, strike a flame, and duck my head, cupping the tip of my cigarette to light it. He leans against the balcony railing, looking out at the scene I was gazing at only moments ago.
"I can't believe Michael has a wife now. That's he's a husband."
The words strike me as out of place even if we are at the man's wedding. I take a long drawl from my smoke, watch it rise into the sky as it seeps from my mouth and nostrils.
"Yeah, who would've thought anyone would be crazy enough to stick with him as long as Lisa has,"■ I reply, chuckling.
"He's lucky, marrying his high school sweetheart. Not everyone gets to have that."
"What's the matter, Chase? You and Brooks have another fight?" I tease, glancing suggestively at the bottle still clutched in my old friend's hand.
"We ended things a few weeks before the wedding,"■ he sighs, lowering his eyes to study the white painted railing, "Brilliant, right? Just before we have to go to a major event in which we're expected to share a room for a week we decide we can't stand each other. And we can't request for new sleeping arrangements or new seating arrangements or any other type of new arrangement that will allow us to both see one of our closest friends in the whole world get married without having to be near each other because that would be calling unnecessary attention to us when it should be on Michael and Lisa and their big day. So to add insult to the injury of me and Zoey being over, I have to pretend that we're still a happy, loving couple!"
I roll my eyes, taking a few more hits from my cigarette. I never really understood the polite selflessness that Chase and our other friends constantly imposed upon themselves.
"You know, it doesn't exactly make Michael a lucky man, the whole, marrying his high school sweet heart thing. If you think about it, he's unlucky,"■ I tell Chase. He perks up slightly at that statement, eyeing me warily. I shrug, knocking the ash off the tip of my cigarette to let it blow away in the breeze, "I mean, think about it. Michael's only ever going to be with one woman. Yeah, he'll claim that he loves only Lisa and that he doesn't want anyone else but how can he be certain if he's never been with anyone else."
"He seemed pretty certain to me,"■ Chase mutters.
"Give it a few years,"■ I reply, inhale more smoke, "You have an opportunity here, Chase, that Michael will never ever be able to have again without involving a lawyer. You get to explore other relationships. Taste the fruits that are now forbidden to our poor friend cursed with matrimony."
Chase stands quietly beside me and I peek a glance at him. He's toying with the wrapping at the top of the bottle and I find myself wishing he would just open the damn thing. For Christ's sake, I'm thirsty. I tap my glass, still sitting on the railing, hoping he'll get the message. He lowers his head, sighs heavily.
"Jeez, Reese, when did you become such a cynic. I thought that was my role in our clique."
"Nope. You're the gullible prude. I'm the shallow cynic."
I decide to take a little initiative and relieve Chase of the bottle, He doesn't fight for it, letting his hands drop to the railing and focusing his eyes somewhere off into the horizon. I rip open the bottle and poor some of the amber liquid inside into my glass. I take a sip and sink against the railing, another drawl from my cigarette and this is heaven.
"Zoey and I were so close,"■ Chase speaks again and I'm a little startled. In the midst of the bad habit and finely aged brandy, well, I kind of forget he was there. He continues in a pathetic low whimper, "We were best friends. It doesn't make sense. The first year was so amazing. It was perfect. I couldn't have even imagined a better relationship. It was as though we were made for each other."
"But it went downhill. These things usually do."
"What do you know?"■ Chase snaps and I straighten a little, turning my full attention on him but remaining quiet. I'm a bit curious as to what he has to say. He lowers his eyes, "It started when we went away to college. You know, she went to UC to major in fashion design, I went to Amherst. We were on opposite ends of the country. We knew from past experience that the long distance thing didn't work out so hot so we took a break. We saw each other on holidays┘sometimes. But the longer we were apart, it felt like, she was changing. I don't know. Maybe I was the one changing. Maybe both of us were. We started visiting each other less and less and our phone calls started getting fewer and farther between. But things started to look up when she got accepted for an internship out in New York for the summer and I spent it with her and she decided she liked it out on the east coast. She transferred to the art college in Massachusetts and we were back together. And foolishly I thought things were going to be perfect again."
"They weren't."■
"Like I said┘we changed. I don't know what happened. We used to laugh on the phone and talk about how much we missed one another and how we couldn't wait to be with one another again. But when we were finally together, we just got on each others nerves. Little quirks she has, that I used to think were cute, were driving me insane. If we were in the same room, we were arguing. I missed┘missing her."
I shake my head, "Tragic."
Chase takes the bottle and, in one great swoop, gulps down a good helping of brandy. I gape.
"What are you doing, Matthews? That's quality alcohol you're chugging! That's been aging for over fifty years. You can't buy bottles like that anymore,"■ I cry. He slams the brandy down on the railing and wipes his mouth, gasping. I glare at him. Last time I show anyone where the liquor is stored in my mansion.
"I still love her. God, Logan, I still love Zoey,"■ Chase moans and I roll my eyes. His shoulders are sagging now and he's heaving a bit, "I just don't understand it. How things can be over when they had felt so right in the beginning. Sometimes, I close my eyes and think back to those days when things were perfect and I feel like it's still right. It has to still be right."
"Maybe it is,"■ I say, taking a sip from my glass again and he seems taken aback.
"What?"■ he stammers, looking at me in stun, "What is that supposed to mean?"
"I don't know."■ I turn around, lean against the railing with Chase and watch the sun as it sinks below the horizon, my glass in one hand, cigarette in the other. I knock some ash into the wind, "In medicine, we're taught that everything┘all our feelings, all our emotions are controlled by the chemicals flowing through out bodies. It's a delicate balance, when things are out of whack, then so are our emotions. When things run smoothly, so do we. How we feel about people and how we don't┘well, it's all dictated by these chemicals."
"Romantic," Chase scoffs. I chuckle. Take another sip of my drink.
"You ever hear of a quark?"■ It's a random question and he gives me a random look for it. Honestly, I don't know where I'm about to go with this one either. But it's something that's been eating at me for most of the evening and now that there's someone for me to dump my thoughts on I have every intention of doing just that. Besides, he just unloaded all his crap on me, it's my turn.
"Is it a type of cheese?"■ Chase asks, slightly incredulous, which I ignore.
"No. They're particles. At this point, smallest known. But you know how eggheads are, give it another decade or so and they'll be announcing they've found something even smaller.■
"Okay. But do you have a point?"
"Probably not. What I'm trying to get at, though, is that quarks never occur in nature alone. They're always together. They're kind of like people in that way. They're existence relies on others. And these things are the building blocks of our entire existence. It kind of puts things into perspective,"■ I go on and Chase looks as though he's growing more confused with every word I speak. So I stop and say, "I guess all it is, all we are, everything we're made up of, everything we feel, see, do, say, hear, and think is science."
"I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that you're not a huge believer in love,"■ Chase mulls, to which I shrug, "Why do I sound surprised?"
"I believe┘I believe that love is a science. That you have to experiment. It's a mix of different chemicals. Mix the wrong ones and you end up with something volatile. Mix the right ones and┘who knows┘you could end up with the Nobel Prize of loves. You know, one of those epic romances that people like you write lame poems about."
"Gee, thanks."
"I'm serious, Chase. You say things were perfect at the start with Brooks and you, but something happened. Maybe you did have it right at the start, your chemistry was on the money. You had all the chemicals needed to get your Tristan and Isolde love but then you started adding new chemicals. You changed the variables of your experiment. And it blew up in your face."
"Okay. I think I'm starting to follow,"■ Chase straightens slightly, his features perking. He starts talking with his hands now, motioning wildly the way he always does when he's excited, "So what you're suggesting is that to fix our relationship me and Zoey should go back to the point where things started going wrong and figure out what we changed then change it back."■
I pause, take a sip of my drink, puff of my cigarette, then calmly state "No. I'm not suggesting anything. I don't really give two shits what you and Brooks do."
Chase slumps, glaring at me sidelong. I roll my eyes.
I put on my most mock sincere face and tell him, "Fine. I care about yours and Zoey's relationship and hope you will take my advice on how to fix what, I think, is the truest love. Good luck, man, go get your woman back and don't forget to use the scientific method to diagnose the problem.■"
"Touching,"■ Chase mutters and I smirk, emptying the brandy from my glass. We both turn when a knock sounds at the door to my bedroom.
A lovely slender brunette stands at the entry way. Thin silver-rimmed glasses sit perched on her nose, and she looks awkward in the violet bridesmaid dress with a low cut v-neck, a gaudy flower over the right breast, and a ruffled trim. One hand just lightly touches the door frame, the other is genteelly placed upon her hip. She's barefoot and I see her painfully tall heels tossed carelessly across my carpet.
"Hey Quinn, what are you up to?"■ Chase questions the woman a tad suspiciously and a small smile creases her lips.
"Just looking for you, Chase,"■ she replies, "You'd better get downstairs. Zoey caught the bouquet and she's been asking around for you for half an hour."■ Quinn raises her brow suggestively and Chase narrows his eyes at her. He doesn't need to be told twice, though, as he has already started moving towards the door. He passes Quinn and her gaze follows his retreating form. He pauses, looks back at her.
"You coming?"
I don't hear their exchange. I've turned back to the balcony, refilled my glass. After a moment I assume Chase has left and I feel her beside me. The slight breeze of that morning has picked up and my hair is tousled against my forehead into the air. We're both silent for a very long time. I stub out my cigarette. She hasn't said anything, but I know it bothers her. She hated when I took up the habit to calm my nerves freshman year and continued to hate it every time I lit up since then.
"I heard what you said,"■ she starts, from the corner of my vision I see her raise a hand to push the loose strands of her hair style out of her face, "About the quarks. I didn't mean to listen in for so long but┘it was┘pretty. I liked what you said."■ She places her hands on the railing and leans forward to look into the same horizon I've been watching. I look down to my full glass and swirl the amber alcohol inside. I down it all in one swig and wait for her to say something. Nothing. Still quiet against the breeze. I can smell her, lavender. She always made her own perfumes.
"Marry me,"■ I say, nonchalant, as though to simply break the silence that has settled between us. Probably to play off the heavy importance of what I'm asking of her. She turns to me wide-eyed and bewildered.
"What?"
I push my empty glass to the side and lean heavily against the railing. I try to center my eyes on something solid. They're losing focus and I think the wind is making them slightly watery. I restate, "Marry me, Quinn."
She chews her bottom lip, balancing herself with a hand on the rail. I know that look on her face. She's soothing things over in her mind with her rationality, "You're drunk,"■ she politely accuses with a bit of amusement in her tone. I smirk at her, turning my eyes into her own.
"A little,"■ I admit, sliding my hand into my trouser pocket, "I was a little drunk a month ago too. When I bought this."■ I produce a ring, place it on the rail between us, her eyes falling to it. It's simple gold embedded with a hundred perfectly cut tiny diamonds. I can tell she's a bit stunned.
"Logan,"■ she stammers, "What are you doing?"
"I think this is called proposing."
"Why?"■
"I don't know. I never thought about it. I suppose because I'm giving you a proposal of marriage. But why they don't just call it that┘I mean, I could be proposing a number of things but I don't really specify so..."
"That's not what I mean!"■ she snaps, fixing me with her intense stare and any air of joviality is gone from the atmosphere, "Why are you doing this? Why are you proposing to me? Here? Now? Like this!?"
"I don't know,"■ I tell her candidly, "I guess because I love you,"■ I smile then, "You're my flavor of quark."
"Strange?"
"Charm."
"You've been reading my Scientific American,"■ Quinn realizes, grinning.
"You leave it lying around,"■ I relent, "So?"
"So what?"■
"I asked you a question,"■ I persist. I'm not letting it go. Now that it's out in the open there's no point in dropping it. It's like a can of worms I've opened and now I'm just enjoying the mess I've made. I reiterate, "Marry me."
She's quiet again and a chill has risen. I'm starting to get the feeling that I'm about to be rejected. My nose is running because of the cold. I briefly wonder what I'll do if she says "no". I can already tell there will be a bit of pain. I'll probably remain stoic. Make a joke if one comes to mind. She'll laugh. Or not. I'll suggest that she should head back to the party, invent a rational reason, and make up an excuse why I can't accompany her. Escort her to the door. Tell her politely that I'll see her in the morning. Finish off the bottle of brandy that Chase left behind by myself as I cry a little.
She leans against me then and I think it's because she's cold so I put my arm around her accordingly.
"We'll have to wait until Lisa and Michael come back from their honeymoon before we say anything,"■ she tells me, snuggling close. I make a puzzled face.
"Say anything about what?"
She giggles, "Our wedding, silly,"■ she sighs, continuing, "It would just be rude is all. This is their moment to shine. We don't want to steal it from them."
I feel a weight lift off my shoulders. The world is spinning and not just because I've had a bit to drink. I could float away right now.
"So that's a yes?"
She giggles softly, wrapping her pale slender arms around my waist. I feel as though she belongs beside me like that and I sink into her embrace, perching my chin just atop her head.
"Must I spell out everything for you, baby? Yes, Logan, I will marry you."
END A/N: I have a strange feeling that this story has more to it. A hidden depth that I'm not really smart enough to understand. I felt like there was something going on between the characters that they never felt the need to explain to me. Anyways, I hope it wasn't too confusing. I wasn't entirely certain where I was going to go with this one. I started out with the knowledge that it was going to take place at Michael's wedding, that the main characters of interest would be Chase and Logan, and that there would be heavy discussion of science and quarks. Oh, and love. I really didn't know that Quinn was going to show up at all, but she just had to come and knock on that door and I couldn't very well send her away.
Now I think I'm going to try and interpret a few things, because, like I said, I think there are things here not discussed that the characters were not kind enough to explain to me but I really want to acknowledge them. First and foremost, I know that Logan seems a tad out of character throughout this whole story. But I figured a few things into account, he had changed through the series, the only character to show any true developement, he would have matured a bit more by the time this story takes place, and he was dating Quinn so I couldn't help but think he would have more ambitions in life than being an actor or director or whatever his character was pursueing on Zoey101. I think doctor came about as his new career choice because in an early episode of the show I recalled he showed an aptitude for Chemistry and somehow I thought he would be more drawn to the glory and status that came along with being a man of medicine. I also think it helps to place him more in character for this story if you keep in mind that, although his words have the appearance of advice for his old lovesick friend, Logan's not really talking about Zoey and Chase's problems at all. He's actually working through his own situation (wanting to propose to Quinn, not certain if it's the right thing, etc.) but using Zoey and Chase as a cover.
Chase, I don't think I mentioned, is studying writing an Amherst, I believe journalism, but he never specified.
Lastly, the relationship between Logan and Quinn had some complexities that I couldn't go into in this story because they would have screwed up the flow. I think, or I'd like to think, most of it's inferred. Logan and Quinn live together, for instance. They had a mutual breakup in college, to experiment with other couplings, but obviously have gotten back together since then. The other's in their gang don't know they're relationship is on again, otherwise Quinn and Logan would have been sharing a room and Chase wouldn't have felt the need to ask why she was there. But Chase seemed to have his suspicions that there was something going on between the two. I don't think the relaxed and natural way Quinn took her shoes off in Logan's room helped the situation. She didn't know Chase was in the room or on the balcony anyways. I don't know why Chase came to Logan's room. I think he was lost and too grief-sticken over his breakup with Zoey to care where he was.
I don't know if Chase and Zoey are going to get back together. I do know that she was looking for Chase when she caught the bouquet because she wanted to try working things out. The thought of marriage does that to girls. I really don't care about those two. Quinn and Michael were the only characters I really liked on the show, and little bit Logan because he had the most possibility for hidden depth then any of the other characters. I mean, come on. A rich, boarding school boy with an estranged father who bought his son's love with fancy gifts and had a propensity to marry and divorce. Angst writer fodder right there!
Meh, this is getting dangerously wrong. So Please forgive any grammatical and typing errors. Please REVIEW! Be harsh. Criticism is my friend. Thank you for reading and have a good life.