Disclaimer: I am a searcher; I am looking for that which I can own; I.E. I don't own chiz.
(.x.)
It's a big world. Some people get lost, others search for the pieces they've lost and the last set of people, the minority, isn't lost at all. They're waiting to be found. Not by themselves; they know where they're going and have their lives planned ahead of them but something is still missing. They want to be found by someone, anyone. They pretend to be lost so that it would be easier for someone else to find them; to notice them. Searchers weren't who they seemed, they merely adapted to changes in their environment so they could find what they're looking for more easily.
Tori Vega was a searcher. At her old school, Tori never found what she was looking for; sure she had friends and memories any ordinary girl would cherish but Tori never found what she was looking for; happiness. So she, unbeknownst to anyone, orchestrated a plan so she would have to fill in for Trina at her showcase.
It worked too. If Tori couldn't find it at her school, then maybe she'd find it at Hollywood Arts. Out went cheerleader Tori (because this school didn't even have cheerleaders) and hello Tori Vega, performer extraordinaire. It wasn't that hard, Tori knew she had a good voice and youtubing videos on how to get a stronger voice really wasn't that hard. All it took was roughly three months of planning, practicing and then everything was set into motion. She knew she would find it at Hollywood Arts. Sometimes, she didn't know what she was looking for; a thing, a person, a feeling…but she never struck them out as options. All she knew was that she would find it, and she had a feeling Hollywood Arts would be where she'd find what she had been searching for.
Sometimes she would call out to it, him, her; whatever it was. She would get so frustrated; so tired of constantly searching. She knew that if she gave up searching she'd just end up lost, so she kept on searching, no matter how fruitless it seemed. One moment in particular, she tried to fill the void with ice-cream. With every spoon, she left out a wail; each one louder than the next. When her bowl was empty, she ran up to her bedroom, slammed the door shut and screamed relentlessly. Nobody was home; she could do as she liked. She sobbed and shouted until her voice became raw.
With any luck, it, him, her, would hear her and know she was still searching, but she never got an answer.
Maybe she wasn't being loud enough.
.x.
Jade West was anything but lost. Her sense of direction was impeccable, even as a child. Every move she made was calculated and purposeful. She was precise; there was motive and reason behind everything she did. She would smile at you this week, because she would want you to finish her homework tomorrow. When she first saw Beck Oliver, she recognized the look in his eyes. He was lost; so very lost in the world; buried behind the shadow of his older brother and the image of perfection he engraved into the family tree. When Beck Oliver first saw Jade West, his eyes lit up. They sparkled and Jade was nothing short of being disgusted. She watched as he ran his ran through his hair nervously.
Nearby, girls swooned; they thought he could be the piece they were missing. Jade snorted at the thought. Unlike most people, she wasn't missing anything, was she? No; she was whole. She was just waiting for somebody to notice…anyone but the new kid. Not Beck Oliver. She groaned and rolled her eyes but he never took his chocolate ones off of her so she stalked away to get some privacy.
It didn't take long for the two of them to find each other again. Beck was lost, and he believed Jade to be his way back home. Whenever he was her, a strong wind of nostalgia overcame him and an ocean of emotions came rushing forward; feelings he believed he never harbored until he met her. Jade however was certain of one thing; she did not want to be found by Beck. He wasn't the one searching for her. That much she was sure of.
But then he held her hand and they molded into each other; a perfect match.
Beck may not have always have had a home to return to, but whenever he was with Jade; he was home. She was his home. Jade liked the way Beck's eyes brightened when he saw her. She liked the idea of her fueling him. She was the oil that Robot Beck needed to function. She was also the water that made him rust.
Beck noticed Jade. He noticed the mole on her arm and the way she always walked away from her parents' car with downcast eyes when they dropped her to school on mornings in their SUV so he offered to walk her; even if he had to wake up an hour earlier to do so.
Jade believed herself to be complete; she didn't need any guy. But it had been two years, so what she did was give a piece of herself to Beck to make room for all he gave to her. She didn't give him much, but he cherished it and she relished at the thought. She never meant so much to another as she meant to Beck.
Sometimes when Jade skipped school or was angry at him, Beck would feel it coming; the cold. He could see the fog rolling in, and he would lose his bearings; he would be lost again. He would squeeze his eyes shut and stretch his hand forward, searching for the warmth Jade's body held. She would break his cold exterior and evoke feelings he never knew possible. She was never too far away; he was always comforted by this thought. Jade liked the way Beck seemed to fall apart when she wasn't around.
She had never felt so important in her life.
He had never felt more at home in his life.
.x.
Trina Vega wasn't lost, nor was she searching, yet she wasn't waiting to be found. She was putting herself out there; she was making sure that she was found. And she was found; on so numerous occasions; and then she was rejected, but that never stopped her. Trina was determined, something the Vega sisters both had running in their blood. The problem was, unlike Jade, she wasn't precise or organized; Trina acted in the spur of the moment. If she felt something; she did it. If she had to hurt someone (including her sister) she would do it, if it meant she would be found again. She didn't care that she was tossed away like a lost one, all she cared about was the fact that for a minute, an hour, a day, someone found her. She was their prized possession.
She had no disregard for others or those she held dear. She was selfish and often as a child, faked injuries when her parents fawned over Tori.
Maybe if Tori wasn't always searching, maybe if she wasn't always taking things away from her, Trina wouldn't be trying so hard to be found.
.x.
Andre was lost in his music. He didn't really care for anyone to find him. After all, he had his music; music was where his heart was. Music made him close his eyes and smile peacefully. It made him drum his fingers against his knee, rhythmically. Music made him forget he wasn't lost but when his batteries died, when the CD was finished or when the song was paused; he felt empty. He needed the music to swell him with words he often found difficult to voice. Sometimes Andre found himself staring at his guitar in his bedroom, listening to silence. Listening to see if anyone was calling his name; if anyone was searching for him. He shouldn't really need anyone to make him complete, not a stranger's words and not a stranger's music. He should be able to fill himself. But somehow he couldn't.
Still, on occasion, he would unplug an earphone from his ear, and look around attentively. Sometimes, he could hear her calling him. He could feel it. But then the music would play and he'd shake his head. He must be imagining things. He would ignore it; her; his searcher. Maybe he wasn't just meant to be found.
He didn't mind though; the music would help him find his way.
(But he always listened to his music on the lowest volume in case she called out to him again).
.x.
Robbie Shapiro had been searching for his missing piece since he could speak. When he was a boy, his mother would look at his toothy grin, his wide eyes and burst into tears. His father would usher her into their bedroom. There Robbie would press his ear against the door and listen to her mumble on and on. He would hear his father's deep voice; calm and soothing and then his mother's tears would stop. She would often come out of the room with bloodshot eyes and both parents would shoot him an apologetic smile.
When he turned twelve, he was rummaging through old family photos and fell upon an ultrasound. Being an only child, he broke into a wide smile; it was him. Look how tiny he was. But when he saw the picture, he frowned; it didn't look like how he imagined. His mother came running into the room and ripped the ultrasound from his fingers. His father called him into the living room three days later with a gift and an explanation. When Robbie was twelve, he learned that his mother had twins; Robbie had a brother but he was a stillborn. She had planned to name him Rex. When Robbie was twelve, Robbie's dad gave him a puppet. He had brown curly hair and big eyes, just like he did, so Robbie called him Rex. He liked to pretend he was the twin he never had.
Since then, he wasn't really searching for anything. He had Rex. But even with Rex, he felt empty.
He felt like he had been ripped in half.
When he was eighteen, during his last year at Hollywood Arts, Cat drove him and Rex to his brother's grave. There he silently put down his beloved puppet on his brother's grave. When he returned to the car, hands empty, Cat gave him a hug and clasped her hands tightly around his middle.
When he was eighteen, Cat Valentine found Robbie Shapiro.
.x.
Cat was a very curious girl. She asked many questions and hoped for answers, because sometimes people didn't answer them. When her answers were received, she would go about telling as much people as she could. Cat's mother said she wanted Cat to stay a little girl forever. Cat always tried to do what she was told, but sometimes she wanted to grow up. She was looking for someone smart to help her. She wanted to know why her mother's hair was red but hers was brown. She wanted to know why when she dyed her hair red, her mother gave her a watery smile and her father gave her a solid pat on the back before they exchanged a firm look with her older brother; another redhead in the family. She wanted to know why her father was blonde and why she wasn't. She was searching for so many answers, but as usual, she was ignored. So much that she often found herself alone.
Cat didn't like being alone. She liked being surrounded by people; she liked to tell them stories and hear their responses. She liked to try new things and often spent all her money on items she's use once then discard. She liked to hear the sound of her voice, filling the empty space so Cat was often engaging in deed conversations with inanimate objects, like Mr. Longneck. She would love to hear responses, but when she spoke, people often walked away when she was mid-sentence or purposefully cut her off and changed the topic.
Robbie Shapiro was the first person she found who listened to all of her stories. She had his full attention. She liked that. She liked it a lot. He was nice when Rex wasn't around. He often took the time to explain many things to her, after sighing heavily as if she should know all of these things already. Robbie made her heart jump and pump blood through her veins at a rate she had never felt before. He made her voice go up an octave and sometimes made her serious. Like when he told her about his brother, Rex. It was the one time she didn't ask questions; she didn't feel the need to. She felt like she could understand Robbie on such a level that questions and answers weren't things she needed anymore.
So when he returned, she gave him a hug, and found that Robbie Shaprio was the only person who could silence the numerous questions whose answers she needed to search for in a giddy sort of frenzy.
.x.
There are many people in the world. Some are lost, some are waiting to be found and others are searching. They are searching for each other; waiting for their lives to overlap. Sometimes, the lost are found and those searching can rest assured that they have found what they need. Sometimes, people never find what they need. Sometimes people stop looking for answers; sometimes people want to be lost. Sometimes, people never know what they need is right in front of them. Sometimes, it's unexpected. Sometimes, a person finds exactly what they have been searching for.
Sometimes they don't.
(.x.)
Yeah, this was supposed to be a Jori friendship fic but it's not. I'm sure this has 93743947000 typos because I am Queen of Typos and I type faster than my brain can register. I really have no idea what went on up there. I make no excuses. It's 4am. I'm going to sleep. Reviews are welcome. They are actually demanded.
