When One Door Opens
This is a revisit of episodes 2.10 - 2.13 (aka, four of the best J/A episodes ever). Lots has been said about Juliette and Avery's tendency to have important life changing moments while standing in doorways. Well, this story plays on that idea. These are four vignettes from Avery's point of view of the moments leading up to each important knock. I figured we J/A fans needed a little something to tide us over for the next 2 weeks of this never ending hiatus.
As always, I own nothing.
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It had been an unbelievably strange night, Avery thought, as he sat in the almost-silence of his living room. The only thing to be heard was the water running in the shower and the occasional sound Scarlett's soft ethereal voice floating out from under the spray of water.
He hated himself for so much of what had transpired over the past few hours.
When he had met up with Scarlett at Deacon's show, he intended to talk to her. To get things out in the open. But then she had launched into her monologue about him being the only one who was really honest with her and the only one she could trust.
She didn't know it, but her trust had already been betrayed.
He shook his head he tried to work through it in his own mind. It wasn't Scarlett's fault that when they were making love that he saw blonde hair that was shorter and darker. Eyes that were a different shade of blue. He had been a coward and had used the woman that he had, at one point, given his heart to. He wanted it back, but he couldn't hurt her.
So much for being honest.
Grabbing a nearby guitar, he tried to take his mind off the churning in his gut. The song that he began to lightly strum on instinct pulled him back to the look of pain and panic on Juliette's face as she turned away from the audience just hours earlier. In all the months that they had been friends, he had never once seen her shaken to her core like that. She looked lost.
The Avery Barkley from a year ago would have taken advantage of the opportunity, used it to try and gain the attention of all the high powered executives in the crowd. But his only thought had been getting Juliette back on her feet.
He was worried about her. After her mother's death and now this affair hitting the media, she was fragile, even if she didn't let many people see it. He wondered when ... how ... he became a part of her inner circle? How he became her confidante? Why talking to her, even with all of the drama, seemed so easy and natural?
He had no answers, he thought, as the sound of running water stopped. He only had the sound of his guitar to distract him from the conflict that gnawed at his heart.
Then ... a knock.
Looking down at his phone for the hundredth time in the past hour, Avery knew what she was doing. She was avoiding him on purpose. Ever since their awkward conversation at her rehearsal, he knew that Juliette didn't want to talk about what happened the week before when she showed up at his door.
But he did.
Now more than ever, he wanted to talk about it.
In the hours since he and Scarlett ended things, the relief he felt was palpable. They both knew they'd been going through the motions. He wasn't sure about her, but he knew his heart hadn't been in their relationship for a while. He was glad they handled it the way they did. They would always be friends, but it would never be what it was before their first break up. They really were like the slippers she compared them to.
Now that things were over for good, he could try to be that person for Juliette. He wanted to be that man that she could turn to when hard times came along. They seemed to follow her sometimes.
Earlier, he had seen the news alert pop up, prominently calling her an atheist home wrecker. He knew it would be bad, but he had no idea how bad. The rate the outrage increased surprised him, and made him worry about her even more.
He knew the truth. They had discussed religion and faith plenty over the course of their friendship. But he also knew that the media had set their cross-hairs on her and they wouldn't be letting go of this. When he turned on the television and happened upon coverage of CD burnings in various cities, his chest tightened, knowing that this was devastating her and that she was shutting down - shutting everyone, including him, out.
Steeling himself against the probability that she likely wouldn't answer, he decided to try one more time.
"Hey, Juliette. It's me. I've been watching all this on TV and I just wanted to let you know that I'm here for you. So give me a call back. Or come by ... any time. Day or night."
He hung up and knew that until she contacted him again, he would be praying for a knock on his door.
But that knock never came.
Under the downtown neon lights / that's where you caught my eye ...
The pen in his hand seemed to move on its own accord to write those eleven words. He knew it was the beginning of a song, but as his mind aimlessly drifted back to the night before, nothing else came to him. All he could think about were those blue eyes of hers shining from behind those giant glasses, looking happy for the first time in a while as she harmonized with him on the street corner.
The more he thought about what had transpired, the more frustrated he became. He'd tried putting himself out there, asking her to join him for burgers and beer, but she rejected him before he could even realize it was happening. He knew there was something there. Hell, she'd come to his house not too long ago and was mere seconds from telling him that she loved him. He hadn't imagined it. But now ... nothing.
He hadn't heard from her all day and he was a little worried, but knew she needed time to work through all this on her own. He admired her independent streak. It made her even more beautiful to him.
And with that thought, his mind wandered back in time again as the vision of her splayed out on her bed barely dressed, popped into his head. The moment that had evoked so much fear at the time had faded into a memory of her gorgeous body and toned tanned legs that begged to be touched.
With a low growl, he tossed the legal pad he was writing the lyrics on to the floor. He got up and began to pace the room, mentally berating himself for letting it get to this point. She was driving him crazy in the best way possible and there was absolutely nothing he could do to make it stop. How could one woman get inside his mind so much. He was hopeless. He'd never felt like this about any of the women he been with. What was it about her that got him so worked up? It was a mystery to him.
Suddenly, he froze, working the lyric in his head. Then he quickly grabbed the pad and pen from the floor and began to write again.
You got me all worked up ...
He was about to play with the next few words, when interruption came in the form of a loud, determined knock.
Closing the door behind him, he tossed his keys on the counter and collapsed onto the sofa. He was exhausted. It had been a long night at the Bluebird, between a packed house, his conversation with Deacon and worrying about Juliette, he didn't want to do anything but sleep for the next three days.
But it was the blonde superstar who kept his mind active. He hadn't gotten a chance to talk to her after she walked off the stage at the Opry. He had texted her and she responded that she was fine, but he knew that she had struggled with all of it. When they sat down to write the song she wanted - a big middle finger to Jeff Fordham, as she described it - she told him that she knew it meant the end of her career at Edgehill.
"Are you okay with that?" he'd asked her.
With a smile and a fire of determination in her eyes, she'd nodded, knowing she was doing what she had to.
Now, he couldn't help but wonder what her next step would be. She was technically unemployed, and he wasn't sure any other labels would take her, current scandals considered. But he also knew how strong she was and that if anyone could survive this, it was Juliette.
He just hoped she would let him be a part of it.
He began to look through his nearly barren refrigerator, not really focused on what was inside when he thought he heard someone outside his door. As he moved toward it, a soft knock. He was almost to it when a louder, more urgent knock echoed through the room.
He could only hope she was finally turning to him as he pulled the door open.
Finally, he was right.
So ... what did you think. Let me know!