Howdy Peeps! :)
I'm a little nervous about this to tell you the truth * downs another shot of stoli to calm nerves *. I've never wrote fanfic before I merely love to read them and decided I would have a little dabble.
This story will be pure fluff and lust. Its a Bella/Edward (Bedward?!) story mainly but will contain all the usual suspects and burn. AH, AU,BPOV/EPOV. Rated M for lemony goodness in later chapters and language.
I love music and the inspiration for this fic came from a Nick Drake song called 'Place to be' hence title. So music is quite a prominent feature in the first few chapters anyway. All lyrics are in italics and I don't own any of them sadly. I'll make playlists up for each of the chapters as I go along on my youtube account, my names TheLulujones on there if you want to find me. All outfits for Bella and Edward are posted on my profile (I'm currently obsessed with Polyvore) as well as links to pics of what I imagine their Park benches look like, apartments etc. Anything you might like a visual for basically.
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of its characters, S. Meyer owns all. Lucky sod. ( if I did it wouldn't only be the La Push boys running around in denim hotpant's, and there would be sexy times, lots of sexy times). I don't own any of the artists, songs or lyrics featured here either, credit to whoever does. Lucky sods. And I dont own 'Slaughterhouse-five' Kurt Vonnegut does and its a kick ass book! "poo tee-weet?!' Read it peeps.
Okay here we go * smashes shot glass against wall and grabs bottle downing it *
Please review if you like, and even if you don't! Let me know what sucks, if there's anything that isn't clear I can have a word with Park Girl and Guitar Guy and try and sort it out. I'm thick skinned I can take it! (that's what she said! Mwahaha). Right I'm babbling now to put off posting this. Okay here we go this time.
Place to be
"Now I'm weaker than the palest blue,
Oh, so weak in this need for you"
Nick Drake, 'Place to be'
Summary
For months now Bella Swan has been surreptitiously spying on a gorgeous guitar toting man who sits across from her in a secluded corner of Central Park, NYC. Slowly but surely she becomes obsessed with the beautiful songs 'Guitar Guy' sings as well as the man behind them. However, she is too shy to make the first move and push herself over to talk to him. Unknown to Bella is the fact that 'Guitar Guy' has equally became infatuated with his 'Park Girl' but lacks the courage to speak to her. Fearing he missed the opportune moment when he first encountered her sitting on her bench singing along to The Smiths.. Instead he has been returning to the same park bench and playing his music for 'Park Girl's ears only, and praying she will work out the hidden message behind his song choices-just how weak he is in this need for her.
What happens when they fear they'll never see the other again? How will meddling friends influence their decisions? Will one of them or maybe both, muster up the bravado to talk to the other? BXE,AH,AU,OOC,LEMONY times ahead :P.
Songs featured in Chapter 1.
Ben Harper 'Waiting on an Angel'
Bon Iver 'Blood Bank'
Snow Patrol 'Spitting Games'
Jack Johnson 'Banana Pancakes'
David Gray 'Be Mine'
Big Joe Williams/Them/Van Morrison 'Baby Please Dont Go'
Playlist link
(Remove the brackets and add in dots)
http://www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=9IUqN9ozmhw&feature=PlayList&p=BD12DB13720491C2&index=0&playnext=1
Chapter 1 - Jumping Jesus, holy cow
BPOV
"Shit! I'm really fucking late" I gasp checking the clock on my phone for what seems like the millionth time this morning. With a final once-over in the mirror in the hall and wrestling my shabby Chuck Taylor's onto my feet, I should really untie these laces I would get on a shit load better, I'm finally out the door. And tripping down the stairs. Obviously. Fuck, feet don't fail me now I've got a place to be. With my favorite 'Coffee-All the cool kids are doing it !' thermos flask in hand and my breakfast safely stowed away in my bag, thank baby Jeebus I thought forward enough to pack this last night, I'm freaking starving. I dash through the lobby of my apartment building at top speed and rush out into the magnificent extremes of the bustling streets of New York.
The first thing that hits me is rain. Fucking rain. Not just any rain though, that fine rain that soaks you right through. And guess who doesn't have an umbrella, yep that's right me. I sigh in frustration and try to ignore the fact I'm going to end up look like Medusa by the time I reach my destination. Its supposed to be June whats with the rain? June is summer for fuck sake.
I pull my leather jacket tighter around my body and pull out my iPod and plug myself in attempting to drown out the seemingly constant buzz of the streets with their wailing taxi cabs and screaming winds. I select the play list I always listen to when walking this familiar path. The one I have aptly titled "Guitar Guy". I put the play list on shuffle and I'm rewarded with the soothing sounds of Ben Harper singing 'Waiting on an Angel' floating through the ear buds.
I cant help but grin just thinking about him, Guitar Guy not Ben Harper, and revel in the resulting numb kind of tingling sensation which spreads like wild fire through my body. He's just so fucking... erotic. There really is no other word to describe him. I've toyed with beautiful, hot, sexy, all those depictions. But none of them were quite gritty or dirty enough to capture his essence. Stimulating is perhaps a close second.
Mind you I don't really know him. I mean I've never even spoke to him, so I cant in actual fact be a real judge on his true character. I have however admired him from afar, for quite a few weeks, *cough* months, now. I'm in no doubt its an entirely unhealthy obsession I'm forming, well have formed. But I cant find it in me to give two flying fucks.
Seeing him rapidly became a highlight of my week, which went on to evolve into some immense crazy girl craving that has to be fulfilled or I fear I'll turn into fucking Liza Minnelli or some shit. That woman married David Gest and hung out with Michael Jackson. That's plain crazy woman in my eyes. Since that's what happens when I don't fulfill my caffeine cravings. I literally start singing 'Cabaret' until someone sorts it out and flings a Latte in my face.
Similarly to my caffeine cravings, the wanting comes in waves daily to be in Guitar Guys presence. And I'm not sure Mr. P my trusty purple rabbit friend can cope much longer with the demand hes under these days. I let out another sigh in a tragic attempt to make myself feel better. It doesn't work. Sighs are not orgasms.
Unfortunately,well as far as I know, from my fucktabulous stalking/hunting/detective skills he's only there on Wednesday and Friday mornings from about 09. 15 to I'm not entirely sure when. Since I am trying to be all discreet and incognito in my infatuation and only stay as long as it takes to finish my coffee, eat breakfast and 'read' a few pages of my book. When I say read I really mean drool and gawp at Guitar Guy. In fact what time is it...double fuck its nearly 10. I really hope I haven't missed him I don't think I'll be able to last a week singing fucking 'Cabaret'.
I ram images of myself in Liza Minnelli's club entertainer costume, you know the black gartered hot-pants jumpsuit and black stocking number, to the back of my mind and focus on the lyrics of the song.
Waiting on an angel
one to carry me home
hope you come to see me soon
cause I don't want to go alone
I don't want to go alone
don't want to go
I don't want to go alone
Turning up the volume on my iPod to try and calm my mind and pushing my legs to work that little bit faster I rush past the other people on the street and struggle not to glower at anyone brainy enough to have an umbrella on them. My iPod shuffles to the next song, 'Blood Bank ' by Bon Iver and I smile remembering the beautiful and mysterious tone of his voice as he sang this song a few weeks back. I ended up spending ages on the internet that night trying to work out what song it was so I could add it to my play list. Only problem was I could only remember the lyrics "we started to kiss", I think I blacked out after those words left his lips.
'You said "ain't this just like the present
To be showing up like this"
As the moon waned to crescent
We started to kiss
And I said I know it well'
Finally reaching the gates to the park I rather awkwardly jump over the muddy puddle already gathering at the entrance and head straight for my vantage point. Taking the first path on the right following it to the end and taking the left at the fork in the path I breathe a sigh of relief when the sound of a softly strumming guitar hits my ears.
Only just managing to contain the happy dance that wants to burst free I round the corner towards 'Guitar Guy'. Screwing my face up in a rather unattractive stance I squint through the soft dewdrop rain and can see him straight ahead. Hes in his usual place on the bench across from mine looking in the opposite direction to me and playing away. Glad that he's not facing me I take the opportunity to bug my eyes out of my skull and stare real hard at him. He he, hard...oh god the 'Guitar Guy' induced incoherency has started.
He looks different today, he's slouched over, instead of sitting tall and proud. As he turns his head towards my bench I take in his profile. The set of his strong jaw gives the impression he's sad or dejected or some other emotion I cant quite put my finger on. He's usually so happy as well, its a stark contrast to the man I usually see.
When I finally drag my eyes away from his magnificent jaw I do a quick scan of the rest of his face and have an internal fan girl squeal when I notice his five o'clock shadow. Bow chicka wow wow. That man is perfection without the stubble, but with..Jesus there is no words. Hence the Bow chicka wow wow.
Pulling my headphones out and shoving my iPod into my jacket pocket I make my way over to my bench, gauchely wiping the few rain drops which have managed to squeeze their way through the protection of the canopy of leaves provided by the trees overhead with my sleeve.
I take up my usual half lotus sitting position on my bench. Rather bravely for me I look straight in Guitar Guys direction. Fuck he's looking right at me. He must have heard me clambering up onto my perch. Without moving his eyes from mine he flashes me a smooth half grin and continues singing.
I imagine I look like a deer caught in the headlights, but cant quite manage to give a fuck at the moment since hes still smiling in my direction. I try but I cant for the life of me force my, most likely boggling eyes, away from his. I'm sure its only minutes before he gets freaked out by the crazy staring girl and does a runner. I decide I may as well seize the moment and use it to thoroughly examine him.
From this distance I can make out the blueish-green depth to his sparkling eyes. His right eye appears to be darker than the other and I have to literally grab onto my seat to stop myself from crossing the expanse separating us to get a closer look. I can feel my face squinting and wrinkling again under the immense strain I'm subjecting my eyes to in my attempt to get a closer inspection but don't register the fact I must look like one of those wrinkly bald cats before its too late.
I'm quickly brought out of my daze though by the sound of a deep but quiet chuckle coming from my subject. Shit, Iv been caught. Immediately averting my eyes to my lap, I cringe as I can feel the blush spreading over my whole body. Its seriously ridiculous how red my body can turn in the matter of seconds. I'm not even gonna start with the various nicknames by blushing earned me in High School. I had really hoped I was gonna grow out of it. But here I am 4 years out of School and still blushing like a pubescent girl whose crush just spoke to her.
There's another small chuckle and I pray he hasn't noticed my traitor body's reaction to his presence. I quickly remove my bag from my shoulder and pull out my usual props; my beaten up copy of 'Slaughterhouse-Five', and my Pepe le Pewe lunchbox. Opening up my book I begin my routine of pretending to read, whilst surreptitiously peeking over at guitar guy and hanging on to every word he sings. Its only at this point I register the song he's been playing since I appeared and I'm pretty chuffed its one I already know. In fact I fucking love this song, its one of my favorite Snow Patrol songs.
'I broke into your house last night
And left a note at your bedside
I'm far too shy to speak to you at school
You leave me numb and I'm not sure why
I find it easier to sit and stare
Than push my limbs out towards you right there
My heart is bursting in your perfect eyes
As brown as chocolate and as pure as skies'
Ah-buh? Hold the phone?! What the fuck fuck fuck! Shit am I hearing things.. oh man I think I've finally cracked, all this perving from a distance has caught up on me and reality's seriously slipping away. I'm almost 80% certain he sang about brown eyes just then, and I know for a fact the original lyrics are 'as blue as oceans and as pure as skies'.
I quickly glance up in guitar guys direction and I'm instantaneously snared into his penetrating gaze. Fuck he's all take no prisoners with those baby blueygreens. He doesn't look as though he's aware of his slip up. I start to squirm under his gaze again. It feels like he's searching my face for something almost. I hastily swipe my lunch tin onto my lap and set about pulling out my breakfast. A pile of pancakes and a banana to go along with my coffee. I refocus on my book and manage to read a whole three sentences whilst munching on my pancakes.
"You ever put a full-length mirror on the floor, and then have a dog stand on it?" Trout asked Billy.
"No."
"The dog will look down, and all of a sudden he'll realize there's nothing under him. He thinks he's standing on thin air. He'll jump a mile."
"He will?"
"That's how you looked--as though you all of a sudden realized you were standing on thin air."
I'm pretty sure that's what I must look like to Guitar Guy whenever he catches me all eyes agog. I sigh and take a drink of my coffee. Peeling my banana I contemplate showing off my awesome gag reflex skills to Guitar Guy but quickly realize it would only end in disaster. I don't think choking on a banana would be a good move. Actually maybe it would.. if I choke he'd need to do the Hein rich maneuver on me, or the kiss of life..or both. Shit this could actually be the best idea I've ever had, well apart from the whole possibility of death by banana. Would make an awesome inscription on my grave stone though.. Guitar guy strums his guitar again ensuring its in key before launching into another song. This one I recognize instantly. Shit on a stick. He so knows I'm stalking him. I'm fucking busted.
Can't you see that it's just rainin'
There ain't no need to go outside
Well there is if your a stalker...
But baby, you hardly even notice
When I try to show you this song
It's meant to keep you
From doin' what you're supposed to
What like handing myself into the police and declaring my mad stalker tendencies... I really don't want to end up someone's bitch quite yet, well unless Mr. Guitar Guy you happen to also be declaring a similar stalker like tendency....
Like wakin' up too early
Maybe we could sleep in
Ha, we wouldn't be doing any sleeping sweetheart..
I'll make you banana pancakes
Pretend like it's the weekend now
It was as this point I realized I'm staring at him, yet again, well I'm not entirely sure if I stopped in the first place, with a banana in one hand and a pancake in the other and for some reason he's paused in the middle of the song to look right at me all expectantly. I look on confused as he gently shakes his head from side to side in a kind of exasperated manner. I watch enthralled as tiny drops of water shake out of his hair like little diamonds glittering in the sun before he continues playing, looking back into my eyes intently.
And we could pretend it all the time
Can't you see that it's just rainin'
There ain't no need to go outside
Another pause. Fuck, is that what he's getting at? there really isn't any need to be outside in the rain in the middle of a park eating breakfast. Shit, does he want me to admit I'm stalking him or something?!
But just maybe, like an ukulele
Mama made a baby
I really don't mind to practice
Because you're my little lady
Another pause. Can I just say again Ah-buh?.. What's he getting at this time..
Lady, lady love me
Because I love to lay here lazy
We could close the curtains
Pretend like there's no world outside
And we could pretend that all the time
He continues the rest of the song like normal and I return to eating my breakfast. I attempt to rationalize through my Guitar Guy incoherency what the fuck the dramatic pauses are all about but come up blank. And why exactly did he choose to play 'Banana Pancakes'. After much internal debating, about 30 seconds worth, all I can come up with is that I have in fact officially lost it. I mean I'm trying to find significance in the song choices of some shit hot guitar toting hobo who hardly even notices I exist. And I mean why would he notice me anyway I'm just plain old Bella. Maybe I should get a shrink appointment. Might be able to get some good meds out of this fuckery.
Finishing up my breakfast I stow my lunch tin and thermos flask away in my bag and settle back into the bench book in hand. The rains completely stopped now and the suns rays are blaring up the path right into my eyes. Yay! Sun! Pulling out my sun glasses from my bag I plonk them on my face and thank mother nature for allowing me the use of my favorite prop. The spy glasses. I can now freely ogle in his direction and he ain't none the wiser. Mwahaha.
Peeking up I can see guitar guys looking in my direction. If i wasn't stalking his ass-candy and gawping at him constantly I think I would have found his gaze a bit creepy... perhaps. Actually, I'm talking shit, his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration and he's sucked the skin of his cheek into his mouth at one side and is gently gnawing on it. That look isn't creepy, its orgasmic.
Feeling a surge of bravado and heat from somewhere deep within my body, most likely my hoo-ha, I 'unconsciously' ,ha my ass!, run my fingers through my long hair from root to tip before repeating and pausing halfway down the length of my hair and twisting my wrist until I reach then ends. Watching guitar guys face the whole time.
His eyes narrow and his gnawing becomes harsher. Me hoo-ha likey.. I oh so 'subtly' lick my lips slowly before softly sucking both into my mouth and releasing them, licking again and then catch my bottom lip between my teeth and gently chew. I've heard from good sources this little 'innocent' girl routine works. Well, according to Rosalie and Alice guys eat this shit up.
I watched with pure adulterated delight as Guitar Guys eyes flutter closed, his long dark eyelashes delicately resting on his cheeks as he swallows deeply and his Adams apple bobs up and down. Relishing in my new found prowess I wait until his eyes flicker open and focus in my direction again. I very innocently, well I hope that's how it looks, move my hair behind my ear exposing my neck and collar bone to him. I lightly scratch along the bone and then soothe the skin by tracing and rubbing my fingers along its contours.
Guitar Guy swallows hard again. His Adams apple dipping and rising as he grasps the neck of his guitar with one of his large hands and I watch in sheer allure as his long fingers wrap around the instrument pausing briefly before sliding up and then down again. Fuck me.
Swiftly looking up to his face I note the cocky half smirk set on his lips before I'm yet again met with his piercing gaze. Shit I think he can see me through my spyglasses, well baws to that.
It feels as though all the blood within my body is rocketing up to the surface of my skin again at this realization. Fuckers playing me at my own game. I match his half smirk with one of my own which results in a full blown smirk from him and a kind of 'well played' soldier salute. I cant help the snort that bubbles up and escapes my chest as I return his salute with what I hope comes off as an air of indifference.
I return to 'reading' my book, and hear the soft strum of the guitar again as he starts to play. Its another one of my favorite songs. One I haven't heard in a long time. I listen blissfully to him gently singing David Grays 'Be mine', singing the words along with him in my head.
From the very first moment I saw you
That's when I knew
All the dreams I held in my heart
Had suddenly come true
Knock me over stone cold sober
Not a thing I could say or do
'Cos baby when I'm walking with you now
My eyes are so wide
Like you reached right into my head
And turned on the light inside
Turning on the light
Inside my mind hey
Come on baby it's all right
Sunday Monday day or night
Written blue on white it's plain to see
Be mine, be mine
That rainy shiny night or day
What's the difference anyway
Honey till your heart belongs to me
Like they fired it right at me
And maybe when your heart and soul are burning
You might see
That every time I'm talking with you
It's always over too soon
That everyday feels so incomplete
Till you walk into the room
Say the word now girl I'll jump that moon hey
If I had some influence girl
With the powers that be
I'd have them fire that arrow at you
Hearing a rather deep and long hearty chuckle,which I immediately recognize as Guitar Guy, I promptly lift my head in the direction of the sound and see guitar guy with a devastating grin spreading across his face. I note he's no longer singing but is still plucking away at the strings of his guitar. Looking around briefly I don't see anything that would make him laugh so I shrug it off and return to my 'reading'.
Come on baby it's OK
Rainy shiny night or day
There's nothing in the way now
Don't you see
Be mine, be mine
Huh. Go figure. Wait a minute, who's singing then? Fuck a duck, its me isn't it ?! Shit how long have I been singing along. Jumping Jesus holy cow indeed Mr. Gray. Earth, I'm begging you please swallow me up.
Mortification sweeps through my body and at the speed of light I snatch up my bag and flee in an attempt to save some kind of dignity. Scarpering back down the lane as fast my feet will take me without actually breaking out into a run. Because I will fall over and that shit wont make me feel better. I feel a small sense of reprieve as I hear Guitar Guy rather hastily cease playing 'Be Mine' and the familiar start up chords of Van Morrison's 'Baby please don't go' drift towards me.
For as long as I've stalked Guitar guy, and that is a while now believe me, that songs always the last one I hear him play and its always as I'm making my way out of the park. Today however I cant fight the embarrassment off enough to slow down and enjoy the energy he always puts into this song as I usually do. Instead I increase my pace and dart around the corner of the lane.
As soon as I'm out of his eyesight I pause briefly and let out a gust of air I wasn't aware I'd been holding in an attempt to reign in my emotions. I seriously don't know whether to laugh or cry at this fuckery. Ducking my head down and avoiding eye contact with anyone and everyone I pass I pull out my iPod and quickly change the play list from 'guitar guy' to something a bit more fitting. Trying to revert back to a happier time I go for my 'Songs that got me through Forks High' play list and I'm immediately met with Limp Bizkit's 'Break Stuff'. Yep that'll do nicely. Keeping my head down I trudge towards the park gate and stomp straight into the muddy puddle.
For fuck sake. Letting out a pretty damn loud maniacal cackle, I pause my stomping and just stand in the surprisingly puddle while the skanky water oozes into my chucks through the many holes in the soles. Apparently sellotape isn't waterproof or sufficient in holding trainers together. There's a tip for you.
Letting out another cackle for no reason other than I'm in a 'fuck my life' mood and really don't want to start crying in the street. Looking up from the puddle I'm met with a head of golden blonde curls and a pair of big brown eyes and smile thinking this must have been what Rose looked like when she was a kid.
I quit my musings when I finally note the terrified expression on the kids face and furrow my eyebrows at her. She's looking at me as if I'm the freaking wicked witch of the west or some shit. A slender arm reaches into my field of vision and the little girls yanked away and out of the puddle her little red Wellington boots splashing the muddy water up onto my bare legs. I cant help the third cackle that bubbles out, and look up into the disproving face of the little kids mother who's looking at me like I'm freaking Jethro Tull or something. Ha, if only she knew how on the ball she was. Well only if that song was really about stalkerish tendencies towards hot hobo guitar toting men rather than little girls.
Laughing again, internally this time, I step out of the puddle and continue trudging towards my apartment where the beacon of my huge comfy bed and a bottle of tequila call to me. Your supposed to drink Tequila Sunrise in the morning, right? Sun rises in the morning and all that, well that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it...
..
A/N
Yeah another authors note because my babbling above just wasn't enough. That and the stoli's kicking in now. :D Happy times! This chapter is just a teaser really in the set up of the whole Bella/Edward situation. I think I'll post BPOV again next chapter. And then after that I'll go to EPOV of chapter 1 and let you into the filthy mind of Guitar Guy...its a fun fun place to be let me tell you :P.
And because I'm a teasing whore next chapter is entitled "Chapter 2 -'Sex hair' and 'Wuthering Heights' take Bella to her happy place."
Hmm, whatever could be happening next? :P
Hit the review button and let me know what you think!