Author's Note: Kay, I don't know what this is. Or if I like it. But read, enjoy. Maybe. I don't own Instant Star. This is a one shot. K, GREAT!
Chicken noodle soup. That was why I was here. That was the only reason. I wasn't ready for anything else. Too bad that damn soup led to my destruction. It has been exactly four days and 3 hours since I found out about your death. There I was, bringing your mother some chicken noodle soup. She wasn't feeling well, and my dad insisted I bring it over. I wasn't quite ready to face her, to be in your house again, to live those memories, but I brought my strong face. The one you told me to reserve for the critics, the tough questions reporters asked, and paparazzi. Tears collected at the corners of my eyes as I sat on your doorstep for 15 minutes before I could even bring myself to ring the doorbell.
I was never strong enough. Not when it came to you. When I thought you chose my sister over me, I was devastated. I did anything I could to forget about you. But it was never enough. None of them were you. If I was a stronger person, I could have gotten over you, got on with my life. Any of them would have taken me. I couldn't do it. You are my life. It's so cliché to say that you are my everything, but it's true. All good things in my life come from you. My music, my passion, my love for the simplistic aspects of life; all things you taught me. Correction, you were my life, my everything. I have to use past tense when I talk about you now. That's what makes it even more real for me. Right now you're on a long vacation that none of us know about. We haven't talked to you in a few days. We're all sad and angry that you left. But you're coming back. If I refer to you in the past tense you're never coming back. If I refer to you in the past tense, you're gone. You are really leaving me here all alone.
I can't do it. I can't face anyone. I can't face Kwest; I can't face any of them. You are what made me strong. Don't you know that? When you left before the release of my second album, I shut down. What am I supposed to do now? I can't face your family who's hurting worse than I am I can't face the world; the people who thought they knew you, I can't face the press who want to sell my pain, I can't face your friends who thought they knew what I was going through, I couldn't face my friends who wanted to know what I was going through, but most of all, I can't face your mother. Your mother with her beautiful salt and pepper black hair and her beautiful face. I can't cry with her over the death of her eldest son. That's why I can't believe I'm sitting on your doorstep with that obnoxious plant sitting right next to me, sobbing uncontrollably.
When I walk into this house I'll remember you and your smile, and your eyes, and your smell, and your warmth, and your comforting embrace, and the way that you always knew what to say, and your ability to make me feel like a princess. I can't remember that, and know that I'll never see it again. It's gone; forever. I will never get to rest in your arms again. I will never get to feel your warm lips on mine. What am I going to do? I'm lost. The outside of your house is doing this to me. Doesn't my father realize what going in and seeing Keegan your little brother who looks just like you is going to do to me? To see your mother, one of the strongest women I know, completely broken? When my own mother left me, your mother took me in as her own. She accepted us as an us, even though our age difference is apparent. She loved me, and I loved her. She taught me more than I could imagine. Like how to make a proper French pastry. That memory makes me chuckle through my tears. I couldn't figure it out, but she wouldn't let me quit even when I had flour in places flour should not be.
But now, I can't face her. You were closer to her than your father. You wanted me to know her. That's why we were in your house so often. When I first met you, I knew nothing of your family. But, you always told me that I was the link to your restored relationship. I guess I'll never really know what that meant. You loved your family. I loved your family. They loved us. That stupid house and its stupid symbolic meaning. There are so many things going against me. I can't go in there. I won't. That house represents us finally figuring out we were in love. Damnit. I'm stuck to this doorstep. My tears are like weights, holding me down.
After I gather the courage to finally ring your doorbell, I do, and regret it instantly. I'm a coward. I have fleeting courage. For the thirty seconds it took me to ring your bell, I thought I could do it. Now that my rationality is kicking in, I just want to run and hide and I briefly consider it, but your little brother is already at the door. I stare at you in his face. You are virtually the same person. Kyle is your miniature. He's you at his age. It's adorable, yet heartbreaking. He opens the door, noting my slightly disheveled appearance. Even at 12 years old, he's a bright kid. He knows I'm hurting.
"Hey, Jude." He says, cracking me a goofy half smile, just like yours; only his is half-hearted and weak. I smile gently back at him, the expression foreign on my face. We stand in silence for a bit, neither of us really knowing what to say. I'm starting to tear up looking at him, when he comes over to me and hugs me. I'm putting my energies into comforting him the way he's comforting me, when he leans into my ear and whispers, "I miss him so much. I feel like I'm forgetting how to laugh, like I'm forgetting how to smile. Like I'm forgetting how to live. He was my big brother, my role model, my buddy. I want him back." Then he chokes back a sob and falls into the hug. I stand up to support us both and gently rub his back and soothe him. I'm almost crying at the way he describes you. We both always knew he was damn bright for a 12 year old.
"Kyle, it's okay to feel that way. I know you miss him. I miss him too big guy. But, he's still with you, everywhere you go. I promise. Your brother may not be with us physically, but he's in your heart, and he's watching you from heaven." I hugged him tighter, and then said "Plus, I'm here for you always. I'm not even close to being your big brother, but if you ever want somebody to talk to, just give me a call." I kiss his forehead before tousling his hair and grab the soup to take up to your mother.
I've walked this hallway a thousand times, but it's never felt so empty before. I know that your room is the first door on the right, but I can't imagine even looking in that room, with your childhood wallpaper, your unmade bed, and awards plastered all over the walls. It's exactly as we left in when we sat in there and played video games with Keegan. He's doing the best out of the two boys I think. He's more apt to talk about what's going on, rather than Kyle who holds everything inside like you do. Did. I have to remember that you're in past tense now. Keegan is holding up okay. He's sat with your mother and cried. Your father doesn't stop moving. He's bound and determined to work himself to death, because he "has a family to support." I walked in on him crying the other day; I thought your tears broke my heart; his shattered my soul.
Your father knows that I'm more than willing to cover any costs, and pay he might lose; but he's stubborn, like you. He won't let me do that. I told them to use your money. But they won't let me give it up. Why'd you have to be stupid and leave it to me? Huh? I don't need it. You know that. Knew that. After I walk past your room and your brother's rooms and finally getting to the wing that is your parents, I lose my nerve again. I don't want to talk to your mother. The woman who was strong enough to raise you and two other wonderful sons. I sit in the hallway, the soup balanced on my knees, contemplating what I'm going to say to her. I have no clue how I'm going to even begin to console her. Finally, after a few minutes of general freaked-out-ness I walk to your parents' room. First I knock softly on the door hoping that I can make the effort and if she doesn't answer it's not my fault. But I know that I can't do that, I have to face her. I have to cry with her, to get all of this pain out of my soul.
How could you do this to us? We're not strong enough to handle it. Not even together. Your family only knows even halfway what I'm going through. God I miss you so much. Please, come back to me. To us. Walk through those doors again and just hug me. Tell me this is all a joke; tell me it's a test. Something, anything other than this. This is hell. I know this is selfish, but I want you here with me. With us. I want you back. I don't care if you're in a better place, or if this all happened for reason. I told you from the beginning that I never wanted to lose you. I said I was never going away, and I meant it.
Your mother answers the door. She looks confused. "Jude, honey. What are you doing here?" I walk in, unable to speak. I just lift up the soup container in an attempt at giving some sort of implication. "Oh. Well thank you darling." She looks at me, and musters a feeble smile. I stare into her eyes for a total of 45 seconds, and I choke out a sob. I knew I wasn't strong enough for this, I don't want to upset your mother; she doesn't need anymore stupid crying people who aren't her family. Damn it Tommy. Damn you for leaving us, and causing us all so much pain.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't want to come in here and cry and upset you, especially since I'm not even family." I burst out as the tears roll down my face. She walks over to me and hugs me, smoothing down my hair and rubbing my back gently.
"Jude Harrison, don't you ever say that you aren't a part of this family again, do you hear me?" My surrogate mother says. "You are like the daughter I never had, young lady. I love you. Tom loved you, and that translates into the rest of his family okay?" She managed to get out, before she broke down as well.
"I just miss him so much. I didn't even know him as long as you and I feel as if my heart is going to burst from the pain." I whimper. After this, neither of us can say anything, yet everything is said. We both cry into one another, letting out all of our pain at the loss of you. We gather strength to keep standing, to keep going, from holding on to one another. It is then that I know. I didn't think it was possible. But we will heal. I am not strong enough now, but I will be. If I hold on to those that love me as I am now, I will gather enough strength to live without you always directly by my side. I just need you to promise that you'll be with me. In the chords of my songs, in the wind, in the sunshine, in the stars. Stay with me that way forever, and I'll be able to make it. I'll be strong enough to live. I'll be strong enough to stay yours, even if you can't be mine. I'll be strong enough, to finally gain a little bit of peace, and happiness. I'll be strong enough to see you again. I'll be strong enough, to keep your love. I'll be strong enough for everyone else. I'll be strong enough for you. Finally. I love you. Forever and always.