Which was why he found himself sitting on a rather tall stool in the middle of an otherwise empty stage with a spotlight practically blinding him, turning all the people in the audience into oddly shaped silouhettes. He shifted slightly, feeling the wood of his guitar shift with him on his thigh. He should've been nervous. He probably would've thought that was odd too, if he had thought about it.
He set his left hand on the wood of the instrument's neck which had somehow managed to stay cool under the intense heat of the spotlight. Instinctively he found the right fingerings for his first chord and placed his right hand over the strings, the first lyrics of the song fresh in his mind. Moistening his dry lips, he leaned slightly towards the microphone to give himself a bit more volume.
"Oh raht there!"
He blinked with understandable surprise. He glanced around but no one else seemed to have noticed the strange words he'd uttered a moment ago. Maybe he was just more nervous than he thought.
He leaned forward again, making sure he wasn't going to embarass himself again. He took a breath, catching a faint whiff of lingering cigarette smoke, his lips lightly brushing the mike.
"Oh, Jono, yes!!"
Jonothan Starsmore found himself staring at the ceiling over his bed, an odd mixture of annoyance and excitement racing through his veins. Already most of the dream was fading from his memory, leaving only vague impressions of the spectacle his subconscious had played for itself while he slept. He knew Gayle had been there, and he had been speaking with someone else's voice. He grasped desperately at the last tendrils of his subconscious fantasy before they slipped away, but couldn't hold onto the memories.
Heaving a mental sigh, the young man glanced over at his clock, knowing it was too early to expect anyone else to be up, but too late to go back to sleep. 6:30. Sighing again, the British mutant managed to pull himself out from between the covers of his bed, the floor refreshingly cool against his overheated feet.
Sitting on his couch, he picked up the remote and the television screen sprang to life, sending Jono's shadow flickering to the far wall. Flipping past children's show after children's show, he finally just decided to read. He was a few pages into 'A Clockwork Orange' when he felt someone moving around upstairs. Knowing that neither of the headmasters were insane enough to get up at this hour, he surmised it must have been Paige. He decided he really wasn't into his book.
Climbing the stairs, he thought about the irony of the situation. Here he was, climbing the stairs out of the basement room he had specifically chosen to be alone in to go talk to one of the people he'd wanted to be away from. Except Paige was one of the two people he'd reached out to since he'd arrived in Massachusetts, and Penance was a good listener, but not really one to hold up her end of a conversation.
Reaching the top of the stairs he opened the door and blinked against the light that suddenly assaulted his eyes. Not waiting for them to adjust, he stepped into the kitchen. Paige was sitting at the table, her back to him, absorbed in her thoughts. He wondered for a brief moment if he should leave her alone to them, but he picked up a vague impression that she'd come here hoping for someone to talk to.
~Paige?~ he ventured cautiously. She jumped as the thought entered her mind. She whirled around in surprise, her eyes huge. It was times like these he wished he had a mouth; psionic speech was so blunt, assaulting all the senses to form a vague impression, not really a word, as those who've never experienced it often think. Rather unsettling really.
"Jono? My God, you scared me." He caught a faint impression of embarrassment coming from her, as if she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
~Sorry, didn't mean to.~
"Ah--I know." She paused for a minute, not knowing what to say to him. Evidently he was in the same boat. Finally the silence became too awkward to endure and she asked him to sit down. He mutely complied. He hoped she wouldn't think he was being cold, he just didn't think anything he could say would be of any use and he'd end up sounding stupid. So he stayed silent as she explained about her not being able to sleep.
"So, why're you up?" she finally asked him.
~Same as you, couldn't sleep.~
"Oh." She glanced nervously at the clock on the wall for a moment before returning her attention to her hands which were currently twisting a piece of hair around her finger. "Do--do you know why?" she asked.
Jonothan blinked in surprise.
~Odd question, that.~ She looked uncomfortable and twisted her hair tighter. ~I don't know, odd dream, I guess.~ That seemed to worsen her condition as she ended up breaking a few hairs off.
Paige looked down at her broken hair in embarassment. She'd just tipped her hand, hadn't she? Well if she acted quickly she could cover it up.
"Uh, I've got fifteen minutes before classes start, so Ah'm--I'm going to go get ready. For class, I mean." She stood up, causing him to rise with her. As she got to the doorway she turned to face him again.
"Jono, I--" But as soon as she looked at him whatever she was going to say dissolved on her tongue, forgotten. There was just something about him standing there at the table, sunlight glinting off the leather straps that held in the literal and figurative inferno of his chest, that made her pause.
A small breeze blew in from a nearby open window, creating waves of light to spill over her corn silk hair, making a few loose hairs blow across her face. One gossamer strand landed on her bottom lip and in one unconsciously graceful move she brushed her cheek, removing the erring fiber. The single blade of sunlight that sliced at his grim preceptions of reality lit her up like an angel and gave her cyan blue eyes such a radiant sparkle. But then, she had beautiful eyes in any light. In fact they seemed to emit their own soft radience, illuminating her face. They had the intensity and the pure blue of the center of a candle flame.
And then those startling blue flames found his own dull brown eyes. It didn't happen often, but when they finally did meet each other's gaze, he felt a slight tingling sensation all over what was left of his body. And he was always brought back to the scene where he held her almost lifeless body in his arms, not caring if Omega Red stomped his way clear across the country. His only concern was the radient angel slipping away as he watched, and the hole in his chest seeming endless and hollow and aching so badly he could cry. And after she recovered, every time since then that he'd seen her he felt a tug at his chest, like the hole never completely went away and never would because the only one who could fill it would never show interest in a hideous monster like him.
He knew he was staring, but he didn't care, he wanted her to know. He wanted her to know some nights that ache was so powerful it almost overpowered the feeling of the tears slipping silently over his face. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her so tightly nothing could ever make him let go. He wanted to be able to make her laugh and brush her tears away. He wanted her to know that he sometimes fantasized about what would've happened if he'd let her kiss him, how much they both might've changed after that. That with her the world seemed bearable, he could learn to live with his scars if she could.
*Yer a regular bloody William Blake aren't yer, Starsmore? You'll never tell 'er because if yer did, she'd laugh in yer face. What's left of it.* He'd never tell her, he knew that for sure.
His eyes dropped to the floor along with her hopes. It had looked like he was going to tell her something for a minute, but it was apparantly just the light. She told herself she was just reading into things again, that she messed things up when she made that pass at him. Ever since then he'd been even more distant than before, avoiding her instead of simply being withdrawn. A few times she thought she'd seen something in those luminescent brown eyes, but she figured if he wanted to pursue anything with her he'd have said something. After all, he had so much more experience in this area of life than she did. He really didn't seem like the shy type and if he wanted her he'd just say something. But she didn't even know if he wanted her for a friend, let alone a...girlfriend. He gave off such mixed messages, sometimes friendly, sometimes avoiding her altogether. And if he had any idea what she'd been dreaming that night, he'd probably fly back to London that day. She couldn't believe the filthiness of her own mind! As if people could really get into that position without breaking something.
*Oh, you're obsessed, Paige Guthrie. Stop it raht now, he maht be pickin' up your thoughts.* But she didn't want to stop. She wanted to love him and only him for the rest of her life. But that would never happen. She'd never let on, he'd never speak to her again.
~What?~
"What?"
~Yer were goin' ter say somethin', gel. What was it?~
"Just...thank you for talking with me for a little while."
~Sure. No problem.~
The smile she flashed him would've lightened a statue's heart. He only wished he could've returned it. So he waved and tried to bite back that empty ache that stabbed at his chest as he watched her walk away.
Classes were finally over for the day and Jonothan Starsmore wanted nothing more than to be by himself. But for some reason, the thought of him sitting all by himself in the basement just depressed him all the more. He wanted to talk to someone.
The midday sun beat down on cracked and singed face, heating up his tight leather bandages something fierce. But he didn't react. He never did. If there wasn't anything he could do about it, there was no sense in giving himself an ulcer over it. Lord knew he didn't need any new holes.
A slight breeze lifted his long brown locks into his face and mercifully cooled his burning chest. Mostly.
*Lordy, Jono, yer obsessed, yer know that? The lady's not interested, get over 'er and get on wi' yer life.* And the thought *What life?* popped into his head before he could silence it. He paused in the middle of the expansive yard of the Massachussets Academy, his hand on his forehead, holding back tears that burned more than the blue inferno in his chest.
*Yer NOT goin' ter lose it in the middle of the field where anyone could come along an' see yer, Starsmore. Yer NOT!* After repeating that statement several times to himself, his head cleared and he continued his walk to nowhere in particular.
And before he knew it, he found himself in the "Danger Grotto," as Jubilee so affectionately dubbed it. Of all the people at the school, the only one he could talk to couldn't talk back. Maybe that was why. Or maybe it was because she seemed to understand him in a way no one else could, regardless of whether or not she understood what he was saying.
~Penance?~ He knew she probably didn't understand the meaning of the word, but he thought she'd come to recognize it as some sort of reference to herself.
A faint rustling in one of the back corners of the grotto answered him. Slowly, like a large jungle cat, the girl named Penence crept out of the bushes. Of all the mutants at the school, she was probably the most unique-looking. With dense, diamond-hard skin, she was a vermilion shadow, absorbing all the light surrounding her, making her impossible to distinguish from the shade of the overhanging trees. In fact, the only way to actually be sure of where she was, was to watch her eyes. No pupils, but startlingly blue, throwing off the 'evil killing-machine' look just enough to make it seem even more disturbing. Add on an outfit of leather straps to match his own, and razor sharp hair that didn't even glint in the light, with fingers to match, and you have quite a spectacle. Definitely not the sort you want on your bad side.
After cautiously circling the young man for a moment, she approached him, eyes wide, ready to run or strike at the first sign of trouble on his part. Or maybe she was just looking for something.
Slowly, so as not to startle her, and probably end up losing an appendage, he dug in his jacket pocket and brought out the shining token of his friendship. Without missing a beat she speared the fruit and began happily munching away, fear gone. He took that as an invitaion to sit down, and did so, still absorbed in watching her eat.
Underneath Penny's evil-looking exterior was a frightened fourteen year old girl who wanted desperately to find a friend, but couldn't trust anyone enough to let her guard down. In some ways she reminded him so much of Paige. Their quiet shyness and innocence not quite dead from the things they'd lived through, both wanting to reach out but afraid of not finding anyone there if they did.
Her head glinted in the soft light as she turned it to give him a quizzical look. He realized he'd been staring at her and felt his face get warm. He knew there was no way of apologizing to her so he just averted his eyes, feeling foolish for doing so. Now she was going to think he'd just come in here to stare at her. When his hazel eyes found her metallic form again, he ended up staring again, this time in shock. She was smiling at him! Her pretty mouth had pushed up the flesh of her cheeks and crinkled the skin around her eyes in a way he found oddly...satisfying. He found his spirits lifting and neither of them had even said a word.
Paige chuckled to herself as she watched Jono's surprise and Penny's delight at a monarch butterfly lighting on the top of the young Brit's head. She'd muted the monitor so as not to alert any passerbys of her presence in the room. Even without sound she could see how at ease he was around her as he tried vainly to get the insect to perch on his finger. A small sigh escaped her as she as she reminded herself again of how adorable he could be sometimes.
Now why couldn't he act that way around her? A small pang of envy crept its way into her mood just before the realization hit her.
*Mah God. Penance. He's got a thing for Penance, that's why he's been actin' so cold to me!* A cold dread crystalized in her guts and spread all through her body. She'd practically thrown herself at him, he probably thought she was either a moron or a hussy! Her icy fear reached her face as she watched the two of them on the silent monitor. He was probably talking about her right now.
~...So that's ther situation. I'm nuts fer Paige but there's no way she's gonner go fer a plonker like me.~ He ran a hand through his unkempt mop of wavy brown hair, bringing it to rest on the back of his stiff neck.
~What do yer think I should do? Should I tell the gel o' my dreams how I feel an' damn ther consequences, or suffer in silence?~
Penance just cocked her head, maybe understanding that he was asking her something, but had no way to answer even if she did understand what the question was. A few small wrinkles creased her rust-colored brow as she pondered something. And then she gave him a look that said it all: Do what you think is best. Of course he'd known all along he was going to have to do that, he just wanted to hear it from someone else first.
Giving her the closest facsimile of a smile his fractured face could muster, he stood up, brushed some loose grass from his jeans, and looked toward the door, knowing what he had to do now and looked forward to it with a mixture of impending doom and relief that it would at last end, one way or another.