Disclaimer: No habla espanol. Me have no dinero. Me owns nothing.
A/N: I haven't decided whose point of view this was from. Or who the guy is. I'll tell you at the end, if I ever make up my mind. And this is a totally random, from left field one-shot. don't even know the whole backstory. Try to enjoy anyways, please.
Summary:
One more cold, winter day. Gray skies up above, dry air, and wind whipping harshly, burning and stinging against your lips, making them raw and drawing the urge to lick them wet constantly to keep them moist.
One more cold damn day.
Cherry Chapstick. If there is one thing to be said about winters, it's that cherry flavored chapstick is a must. It's actually a habit I picked up from her.
But she doesn't know. Because she says it's kind of gay for a guy to wear cherry flavored chapstick, especially because it has a slight tint to it. Try to argue and she'll justify it with one word. Mason.
I am not gay.
She'll smirk all the while in my head I was daring her to find out for herself just how un-homosexual I am.
Or she could just ask Sadie.
Nope, not going to go there now.
The air is warmer, melting the white blanket on the dead ground covering my shoes, and I remove the coat that was keeping me from shriveling down to nothing in the slushee susbtance known as snow.
Even on the bottom floor you can hear a door slam, and I looked up too see her stomping down the stairs, hand on the railing to steady herself, as she flips her recently dyed red hair angrily, and she yells at the person stomping behind her.
"I'm not fucking doing it, Liam. I am not some Barbie doll to paraded in front of millions of horny males who have to resort to photographs just because they can't find a real girl to get them off!" she yelled as she fled down the stairs.
Liam stopped dead in his tracks, at first taken back by her outburst before grinning wickedly. He always was such an ass.
"Ok, that's fine," he baited her. It was her time to stop as she steadied herself with the railing and turned to look at him, surprised at his lackluster response. She raised her eyebrows and shot him a questioning look.
"Excuse me?" she asked incredulous.
"I said that's fine. I didn't even think you were pretty enough to make the cover in the first place. I told them to give it to Karma. And with that attitude no wonder Quincy walked out on you"
She stood there frigid and cold, letting his words pass through her as if they never existed. Or so it seemed. I saw the flash of hurt in her eyes before she replaced it with a look of defiance and challenge, eyes dancing a brilliant blue fire that would pierce through anybody, even Liam. She took two heavy steps ascending to his level and faced him.
Liam tensed upon her reaction, but even Mr.-Stick-Up-My-Ass couldn't try and be non chalant. I saw the way her hands clenched into a fist, turning her already pale hands and knuckles whiter than the snow that had fallen on the winter ground. She looked at him through batted eyelashes and wore a wicked crimson stained smile.
There was something about the way she wore her pain, through all her broken smiles and eyes wearing a thousand disguises. Instead of pushing you away, it makes me want to reach out and find her.
Somewhere these last few months, Jude had changed. She had lost some part of herself when he left. Or maybe she had been lost long before them, and his absence was her breaking point, pushing her to the edge of her sanity. Of course, she smiled everyday as if he never existed and played the part of happy little rock star perfectly well. The epitome of a façade. But I know better.
I know.
I know that when she locks herself in the studio, writing fiercely, her tears spill onto paper smearing the ink into unreadable blobs, the letter bleeding together. I knew the reason she really wore those long sleeved shirts up until a few weeks ago. Just like I knew that he was going to break her heart the second he smiled at her.
She should have been special.
He made her think she was special.
And she is.
Just forsaken by my so called best friend.
Jude whispers something to Liam, and a look of disdain is written clear upon his stoic face, and she flies down the stairs, brushing past me, but not before catching a quick glance of me looking at her. She smiles briefly, knowingly. Her smile disappears just as quick as it had appeared and she seems blank, oblivious as she steps through the double doors into the cold Canadian air.
She's not wearing a jacket, and her arms are folded tightly to her chest as she bounces up and down on her tippy toes to get her warm herself. I quickly grab my jacket and join her.
"Don't even ask me if I'm okay," she speaks bitterly, her breathe visible in the cold, dry air.
"I was just going to say Liam's an asshole," I stated matter-of-factly. "And don't roll you're eyes at me either."
A forced chuckle is emitted into the open air, as she knows I knew what she was doing without even looking at her. Spending day and night locked with someone in a studio really makes you pay attention and open your eyes a little more to the person you're sharing the space with.
I remembered my jacket and wrap it around her slender shoulders, and she gripes the edge of it with her petite fingers and pulls it close to her.
She looks at the hollow snow covered ground and swallows hard, I can actually hear it. "It doesn't matter what Liam thinks. I hope the next intern he convinces to give him a blow job bites his dick off and he bleeds to death. I'd gladly pay her for her services too," Jude tries to joke.
And there it is. Just like always.
A façade.
Someone else in the place of the person who was physically there.
"He's wrong, you know? You're gorgeous," there I said it. Point blank, flat out said it, as I stare straight ahead of me because I can feel her gaze burning right through me. She doesn't say anything and it feels like an eternity. Can I please crawl into a hole and die now?
"It's nice that you're trying to make me feel better. Thanks," she whispers like she doesn't believe a word I say as she moves closer to me so that the sides of our arms are touching
I shrug my shoulders, "It's only the truth, and Quincy left because of Quincy."
"God knows that's true. He just did what he does best. Run. Don't look back and be completely oblivious and nonchalant to those you're gonna be hurt. The funny thing is now I get it, I understand why he does what he does. So he doesn't get hurt. If I was like that, I wouldn't be a complete wreck these last few months, and maybe my heart wouldn't feel so empty," she admits, bitter and disdainfully. A few cars pass by us near the sidewalk and some of the people stick their heads out the window and yell a hello to the Jude Harrison. She plasters a smile on her face and waves frantically at them.
I've had enough of this, and can't take anymore. I turn to face her dead on, catching her off guard by my actions, as she looks at me curious and amused.
"What's it going to take to get the real Jude back?"
"Maybe I never knew who she was to begin with! Ever think of that?" she shoots back anger evident in her tone, but it's not directed at me.
"Maybe you never had the chance to find her. Instead you've relied on other people for too long too be your identity. Your mom, your dad, Jamie, Shay, Speed-"
"Don't you mean Tommy?" Jude asked gritting her teeth.
"Yes, him too. When do you stop letting other people make you who you should be and start being you, and doing things for you? I'm tired of seeing you mope around. I know this sounds harsh, but Tommy's gone. Tommy was selfish, just like he always is. I love the guy as my friend, but Jude look what you let him do to you?" I started ranting with my hands placed on her shoulders, and she actually looks scared of me. Ok, so I let my emotions get the best of me. Open mouth and insert foot.
I'm waiting for her to slap, punch, kick, spit on me, anything, but she wraps her fingers around my wrists, and uses them for what feels like support. A tear falls down from her ice blue eye and I noticed her skin was extremely pale, and her lips where wind burned and she says nothing again. She's still trying to hold herself together. She's way too stubborn sometimes.
"You think I don't hate myself for falling for him? Because I do, everyday. Every damn single day. And everyday I'm reminded of him. And I'm so sick of it. I'm sick of caring about him, even after what he did to me, and I find myself wondering if he's okay. I'm sick of hurting over him, but I don't know how to stop. I just don't know…" Jude was in full-blown tears, and she fell against me. I brought as close to my skin as she could be at this point and held her, one of my hands running through her hair as the other held onto her lower back, and my chin rested on top of her head.
"Jude you'll be okay. You will, I promise," I spoke to her as soothing as I could hoping they weren't just empty words, but somehow I knew deep down that they weren't. She nodded her head and pulled away slowly, wiping away her tears, and I feel cold at the lack of our body contact.
"God the press would have a field day with that little scene. Darius would love it. 'Instant Star has Instant Breakdown'. I can just see it now," she genuinely laughs, and puts herself back together, smoothing her hair. "God, I'm a mess. I should come with a warning label: some assembly required."
"Nah, you're still pretty even with raccoon eyes," it was my turn to joke referring to the eyeliner and mascara that had left stains underneath her eyes. The cold air between us evaporated for the next thing I know I felt her lips lingering on mine and my head wondering how the hell she got so close so quick while savoring the way her lips felt and tasted upon mine.
It was nothing sensual, just a little skin on skin contact, but it was enough for me too lose my head a little and wonder how this girl could have such an affect on people and not even realize the power she really had. It was over before I could blink or think.
And before I could ask her, she answered my unspoken question, "Sorry ran out of cherry chap stick this morning, and my lips hurt. Thought I would use yours," she grinned and turned to walk away, her boots sloshing through the snow and her tiny body engulfed in my overcoat. She stopped suddenly and turned to look at me. I don't think I'd ever felt this unnerved before in my life.
"Thanks for being my friend. I really could use one right now," she smiles and goes back inside, the door slamming behind her, as she leaves me to contemplate things.
She's a mess of contradictions, hot and cold, disconnected and there at the same time. All I can say is that she left me with the taste of peppermint toothpaste and cherry chap stick, and the conclusion that I don't know her even thought I'd like too claim I do.
Truth is that I'd never know her.
Not the way Quincy did anyways.
Life's a bitch.
END
A/N: I think two sentences into it I decided on Kwest. Go figure.
How bad did it suck?