Disclaimer: I own nothing. ::nod::
A/N: Hmm... I decided that After The Applause Dies Down needed a prequel- just to kinda explain the things that I'm leaving... well, unexplained. Figured I'd stick with the whole theatre theme, and decided to call this one Take A Bow... Whee. I'm so creative. ::makes face::
This'll pro'lly be three chapters. *Maybe* four, if I can find a way to fit Fred in... Anyways. Chapter one'll be from Pietro's POV, two from Lance's, and three from Todd's. Yay.
Warnings: Implied slash (Lance/Pietro and Todd/Kurt) much language- they're teenaged boys. Teenaged boys curse- implied cutting and suicide attempts, some angst, slight Pietro/Kitty (::rolls eyes:: You'll see.) and general insanity
~*~
Take A Bow
by Wolfie
~Part One~
It shouldn't be so easy. It never should've become such a... such a simple thing. I don't even have to think about it anymore. It's like a second nature, and...
And that doesn't even bother me. It *should*. But it don't. No... What's really been biting at my nerves is this constant... *exhaustion*. All I ever want anymore is to sleep. I can't even remember the last time I went for a run. The last time I *wanted* to... All my energy just seemed to disappear.
I'm even having trouble keeping my mask up, maintaining my usual, carefree arrogance. I don't feel like making fun of Daniels, or flirting with the girls in my classes, or trying my damnedest to bore a hole into the back of Kitty Pryde's head with a glare. And those are the *low* points of my day...
God, I'm just so fucking *tired*. I hate it. I've tried everything. Caffeine, sugar, cigarettes... They kept me awake for a day, but then I was right back to the exhaustion. I mean- dammit, it I'm gonna be exhausted, it'd be nice for there to be a *reason*. Really, there's nothing like passing out on the couch after a nice ten or twenty mile run.
But I can't even have *that* 'cause I don't *want* to go on those runs. And it sucks. It sucks big, fat, red-
"Pietro!"
Eh? I look up to see Lance giving me an odd stare, and then I realize that we're the only two people left in the classroom. He seems exasperated. And confused. And... worried? Again, I say- Eh?
"Jesus, man. The bell rang. Let's go."
"Yeahyeah. Sorry," I give a slight nod, gathering my shit, getting to my feet and following him out of the room. I walk a few step behind him, tuning out the chaos in the hall. I still have half the day to get through- Lunch, Auto Shop, American History, Trig... Fuck, I wish I could just skip. But then what? I'd go home and sleep, I guess. Not like I wasn't nearly falling asleep in class this morning anyway...
"Hey, yo- what's with you? You're all spacey an' shit," I blink slightly, then realize that Todd's walking along beside me, hands stuffed casually into his pockets. He's staring at me with that same look Lance had earlier- maybe without the exasperation.
"Nothing. I'm fine," I tell him, with a quick shrug, "I've just got some stuff on my mind..." Yeah, yeah... *stuff*. Good excuse, Maximoff. You've got *stuff* on your mind.
"Whatever, man. You sure you're alright?" There's a vague twinge of annoyance at his concern, but I brush it off. He's probably got good reason to be concerned. I haven't been acting myself... Well, not the self that *they* know. Not the Pietro that they're *used* to.
"Yeah, I'm sure. Lay off," I give him a slight shrug, and a small smirk, hoping he drops it. I hate to hide shit from him- he's like... my best friend. More than that. He's like a brother- but, I don't think he'll understand. I don't think any of them would. Lance would probably tell me I'm stupid, and Fred would just shake his head... And Todd...
Christ, I don't even know. The kid gives off the appearance of obliviousness, but he notices *everything*. He'd probably be kicking himself for not seeing it sooner. But, like I said- I don't know. Pretty sad, really. I consider him my brother, and I don't even know how he'd react.
"Y'see? He's doing it again!" I see the hand coming for the back of my head, but I don't bother to dodge it. Simply let Lance smack me, and then throw him what I can gather of a dirty look.
"What?" I try to sound annoyed. Wonder if I pulled it off?
"I *asked* you- Pietro- if you've got money for lunch? 'Cause I'm broke," That's new. Lance is broke. That *never* happens...
... You'll notice my sarcasm, there.
"Not really hungry," Is my reply, shrug included. I'm still carrying my English Lit books, and I think we just passed my locker, but... whatever. I don't need anything until fifth period.
"You're not *hungry*?" I nod, and now I can *feel* that look from Lance, "What the hell do you mean you're not hungry? You usually eat more than Fred and me combined!" Thank you, Lance. I was just thinking on how I needed someone to point out one of my faults to me...
"I'm just not hungry. Is that *allowed*?"
"You having a bad day or something?" Eh? Now *Fred's* noticing my mood? Jesus! What the hell is this?
"I'm fucking fine!" They all stop dead in their tracks, giving me that damned look, "I mean- why is it that everyone expects me to be so fucking cheerful all the time? Aren't I allowed to be in a bad mood for once? Did someone sign my name on a contract, saying that I needed to be energized, 24-7? Where the fucking hell was I?!"
...
And now *everyone* is staring at me. Great. Great. Wonderful job, Maximoff.
"Fuck, I just-" I throw my arms up, frustrated, and then turn and take off. I don't want to deal with them now. I don't want to deal with anyone. Why can't they all just leave me the fuck alone? I mean- just... *Fuck* them.
Fuck the people in the hall, staring at me like I was a complete psycho.
Fuck Todd and his worrying about me.
Fuck Lance and his... his...
Fuck, I can't even figure out what he did wrong, but he did it, dammit. He just kept giving me that *look*, with his eyebrows all drawn together, and his lower lip sticking out just a tiny bit... Who the hell gave them the right to be concerned about me anyway? It's not like they really care. Todd's got Blue Boy to keep him busy- Lance has pretty Kitty- Fred's got... food. And the TV.
"Um... Pietro?"
God, who's here to bother me now?
Oh.
Her.
"Kitty."
"I... uh... heard you got in, like, a fight... with Lance... and them..." Well, news certainly travels fast in Bayville.
"It wasn't a fight," Is all I can say, though. I run my fingers through my hair, barely even aware of where I ended up. The bleachers, overlooking the track. Somehow, I always end up here. No matter where I run to- I wind up at the track.
"Oh..."
"They just... They just pissed me off. So I blew up. And then I took off..." There, you've got your explanation, now *go away*. Go away. Go away. Goawaygoawaygoaway!
"What happened? I mean, like... How'd they make you angry?" I forget that *she's* not the one with the psychic powers. Dammit, woman.
"They..." Why do I get the feeling I'll look like a total ass if I tell her? 'They were too concerned about me' isn't really a good reason to freak out at your friends... "What the hell do you care, anyway?" Yes! Good save! Great save! Go me!
"Well, Lance is, like, my friend, and all-"
"Don't you mean *boy*friend?" Okay, probably a little too bitter there. Tone it down, or she'll get suspicious. I *don't* care if they're dating. Of course not. Why would I care? I mean, it's not like I like Lance or anything like that! That'd be stupid, considering he likes *her* and not me, and then there's the huge, blaring, annoyingly obvious fact that he's *straight*.
"No, he's not my- Pietro? Are you, like, alright? You're hyperventilating."
I blink.
I am not.
...
Okay, maybe I am.
"Finefine. You were saying?" I think she rolls her eyes. Not really paying much attention to her, but that looks like what she did. And I won't let myself get annoyed at that. Mostly because I don't think I could live through another freak-out session. I'll pop an artery or something.
"Yeah, Lance is my friend, and... like... I dunno. He always seems really, like, upset when you're mad at him. God, I feel stupid saying this. It's just... he cares about you, Pietro. You're, like... his family..." She cringes at the word 'family' but I can't, for the life of me, figure out why. Whatever. Stupid girl doesn't know anything. Because if she did, she'd know that Lance- being *male*- doesn't *care* about me. He just likes getting in my business. Because he doesn't have anything better to do at the moment.
"Yeah. Whatever, Pryde," I shrug, and she frowns, "Me and Lance are cool, alright? We've gotten in bigger arguments before," Yup. Over the remote. And the last slice of pizza. And the last beer. Huge-ass arguments. They're really commonplace at the Brotherhood home.
"I'm, like, serious! He-" She stops suddenly, and I tilt my head, gaze drifting from the track, over to the little freshmen sitting beside me. She's cute, I guess. For a girl. She at least *dresses* better than most of the chicks at Bayville... Waitasecond. Why'd she stop there?
"He what?" She blushes and looks down at her hands, which rest in her lap. Nice legs too, actually. For a girl.
"I can't tell. He'd kill me."
"Oh, he would not," He wants to bone you too badly, and he doesn't really seem the necropheliac type...
"Yeah. He might. This is, like, a huge thing. He swore me to, like, secrecy. I think I'm, like, the only one who knows," Christ- can she not say a single sentence without using the word 'like'?! That *totally* outweighs the cuteness she's got going for her.
"So? I'm 'like family', remember?" Because dammit, I'm curious now. And I'm sure as hell not gonna ask Lance what she's talking about. He'll probably get pissed that I was even talking to her. I don't care *what* she says. He wants to fuck her. End of story. As it is, he gets annoyed with me for the girls I bring home. If I brought home a chick *he* wanted... Well, let's just say... I don't think the house would still be standing by the time he got finished with me.
"I can't! I'm sorry!" She actually sounds it, too. Well, maybe I can ignore the frequent use of 'like'... She *is* pretty cute... Wait. No. Lance. Death by collapsing roof. Not fun. Bad Pietro. Bad.
"Yeahyeah. Whatever. Get lost before I start thinking that you're hitting on me," Before I start hitting on you. Can't help it. Knee-jerk reaction. If they're fuckable, I gotta hit on 'em. Unless I think that might result in my death, that is...
"I gotta catch up with Kurt and Evan, anyways... I'll, like, see you later!" I wave my hand dismissively as she leaves, taking quick note of of the blush on her cheeks, and the way those capris fit perfectly on her ass. I guess I can understand why Lance wants her so bad. She's pretty fuckable. For a girl.
~tbc~
Whee. Pietro's a spaz. And a mental case. Fun, fun. For those that didn't pick up on it, Pie was taling about cutting, there, in the beginning. And the sleepiness is a typical depression-related thing. ::nods::
He's got quite the mouth on him, doesn't he? ^_^ They must've done one hell of an editing/censoring job when they showed Evo on TV... ::snickers:: Okay, now- feed your local review whore. ^_^
A/N: Hmm... I decided that After The Applause Dies Down needed a prequel- just to kinda explain the things that I'm leaving... well, unexplained. Figured I'd stick with the whole theatre theme, and decided to call this one Take A Bow... Whee. I'm so creative. ::makes face::
This'll pro'lly be three chapters. *Maybe* four, if I can find a way to fit Fred in... Anyways. Chapter one'll be from Pietro's POV, two from Lance's, and three from Todd's. Yay.
Warnings: Implied slash (Lance/Pietro and Todd/Kurt) much language- they're teenaged boys. Teenaged boys curse- implied cutting and suicide attempts, some angst, slight Pietro/Kitty (::rolls eyes:: You'll see.) and general insanity
~*~
Take A Bow
by Wolfie
~Part One~
It shouldn't be so easy. It never should've become such a... such a simple thing. I don't even have to think about it anymore. It's like a second nature, and...
And that doesn't even bother me. It *should*. But it don't. No... What's really been biting at my nerves is this constant... *exhaustion*. All I ever want anymore is to sleep. I can't even remember the last time I went for a run. The last time I *wanted* to... All my energy just seemed to disappear.
I'm even having trouble keeping my mask up, maintaining my usual, carefree arrogance. I don't feel like making fun of Daniels, or flirting with the girls in my classes, or trying my damnedest to bore a hole into the back of Kitty Pryde's head with a glare. And those are the *low* points of my day...
God, I'm just so fucking *tired*. I hate it. I've tried everything. Caffeine, sugar, cigarettes... They kept me awake for a day, but then I was right back to the exhaustion. I mean- dammit, it I'm gonna be exhausted, it'd be nice for there to be a *reason*. Really, there's nothing like passing out on the couch after a nice ten or twenty mile run.
But I can't even have *that* 'cause I don't *want* to go on those runs. And it sucks. It sucks big, fat, red-
"Pietro!"
Eh? I look up to see Lance giving me an odd stare, and then I realize that we're the only two people left in the classroom. He seems exasperated. And confused. And... worried? Again, I say- Eh?
"Jesus, man. The bell rang. Let's go."
"Yeahyeah. Sorry," I give a slight nod, gathering my shit, getting to my feet and following him out of the room. I walk a few step behind him, tuning out the chaos in the hall. I still have half the day to get through- Lunch, Auto Shop, American History, Trig... Fuck, I wish I could just skip. But then what? I'd go home and sleep, I guess. Not like I wasn't nearly falling asleep in class this morning anyway...
"Hey, yo- what's with you? You're all spacey an' shit," I blink slightly, then realize that Todd's walking along beside me, hands stuffed casually into his pockets. He's staring at me with that same look Lance had earlier- maybe without the exasperation.
"Nothing. I'm fine," I tell him, with a quick shrug, "I've just got some stuff on my mind..." Yeah, yeah... *stuff*. Good excuse, Maximoff. You've got *stuff* on your mind.
"Whatever, man. You sure you're alright?" There's a vague twinge of annoyance at his concern, but I brush it off. He's probably got good reason to be concerned. I haven't been acting myself... Well, not the self that *they* know. Not the Pietro that they're *used* to.
"Yeah, I'm sure. Lay off," I give him a slight shrug, and a small smirk, hoping he drops it. I hate to hide shit from him- he's like... my best friend. More than that. He's like a brother- but, I don't think he'll understand. I don't think any of them would. Lance would probably tell me I'm stupid, and Fred would just shake his head... And Todd...
Christ, I don't even know. The kid gives off the appearance of obliviousness, but he notices *everything*. He'd probably be kicking himself for not seeing it sooner. But, like I said- I don't know. Pretty sad, really. I consider him my brother, and I don't even know how he'd react.
"Y'see? He's doing it again!" I see the hand coming for the back of my head, but I don't bother to dodge it. Simply let Lance smack me, and then throw him what I can gather of a dirty look.
"What?" I try to sound annoyed. Wonder if I pulled it off?
"I *asked* you- Pietro- if you've got money for lunch? 'Cause I'm broke," That's new. Lance is broke. That *never* happens...
... You'll notice my sarcasm, there.
"Not really hungry," Is my reply, shrug included. I'm still carrying my English Lit books, and I think we just passed my locker, but... whatever. I don't need anything until fifth period.
"You're not *hungry*?" I nod, and now I can *feel* that look from Lance, "What the hell do you mean you're not hungry? You usually eat more than Fred and me combined!" Thank you, Lance. I was just thinking on how I needed someone to point out one of my faults to me...
"I'm just not hungry. Is that *allowed*?"
"You having a bad day or something?" Eh? Now *Fred's* noticing my mood? Jesus! What the hell is this?
"I'm fucking fine!" They all stop dead in their tracks, giving me that damned look, "I mean- why is it that everyone expects me to be so fucking cheerful all the time? Aren't I allowed to be in a bad mood for once? Did someone sign my name on a contract, saying that I needed to be energized, 24-7? Where the fucking hell was I?!"
...
And now *everyone* is staring at me. Great. Great. Wonderful job, Maximoff.
"Fuck, I just-" I throw my arms up, frustrated, and then turn and take off. I don't want to deal with them now. I don't want to deal with anyone. Why can't they all just leave me the fuck alone? I mean- just... *Fuck* them.
Fuck the people in the hall, staring at me like I was a complete psycho.
Fuck Todd and his worrying about me.
Fuck Lance and his... his...
Fuck, I can't even figure out what he did wrong, but he did it, dammit. He just kept giving me that *look*, with his eyebrows all drawn together, and his lower lip sticking out just a tiny bit... Who the hell gave them the right to be concerned about me anyway? It's not like they really care. Todd's got Blue Boy to keep him busy- Lance has pretty Kitty- Fred's got... food. And the TV.
"Um... Pietro?"
God, who's here to bother me now?
Oh.
Her.
"Kitty."
"I... uh... heard you got in, like, a fight... with Lance... and them..." Well, news certainly travels fast in Bayville.
"It wasn't a fight," Is all I can say, though. I run my fingers through my hair, barely even aware of where I ended up. The bleachers, overlooking the track. Somehow, I always end up here. No matter where I run to- I wind up at the track.
"Oh..."
"They just... They just pissed me off. So I blew up. And then I took off..." There, you've got your explanation, now *go away*. Go away. Go away. Goawaygoawaygoaway!
"What happened? I mean, like... How'd they make you angry?" I forget that *she's* not the one with the psychic powers. Dammit, woman.
"They..." Why do I get the feeling I'll look like a total ass if I tell her? 'They were too concerned about me' isn't really a good reason to freak out at your friends... "What the hell do you care, anyway?" Yes! Good save! Great save! Go me!
"Well, Lance is, like, my friend, and all-"
"Don't you mean *boy*friend?" Okay, probably a little too bitter there. Tone it down, or she'll get suspicious. I *don't* care if they're dating. Of course not. Why would I care? I mean, it's not like I like Lance or anything like that! That'd be stupid, considering he likes *her* and not me, and then there's the huge, blaring, annoyingly obvious fact that he's *straight*.
"No, he's not my- Pietro? Are you, like, alright? You're hyperventilating."
I blink.
I am not.
...
Okay, maybe I am.
"Finefine. You were saying?" I think she rolls her eyes. Not really paying much attention to her, but that looks like what she did. And I won't let myself get annoyed at that. Mostly because I don't think I could live through another freak-out session. I'll pop an artery or something.
"Yeah, Lance is my friend, and... like... I dunno. He always seems really, like, upset when you're mad at him. God, I feel stupid saying this. It's just... he cares about you, Pietro. You're, like... his family..." She cringes at the word 'family' but I can't, for the life of me, figure out why. Whatever. Stupid girl doesn't know anything. Because if she did, she'd know that Lance- being *male*- doesn't *care* about me. He just likes getting in my business. Because he doesn't have anything better to do at the moment.
"Yeah. Whatever, Pryde," I shrug, and she frowns, "Me and Lance are cool, alright? We've gotten in bigger arguments before," Yup. Over the remote. And the last slice of pizza. And the last beer. Huge-ass arguments. They're really commonplace at the Brotherhood home.
"I'm, like, serious! He-" She stops suddenly, and I tilt my head, gaze drifting from the track, over to the little freshmen sitting beside me. She's cute, I guess. For a girl. She at least *dresses* better than most of the chicks at Bayville... Waitasecond. Why'd she stop there?
"He what?" She blushes and looks down at her hands, which rest in her lap. Nice legs too, actually. For a girl.
"I can't tell. He'd kill me."
"Oh, he would not," He wants to bone you too badly, and he doesn't really seem the necropheliac type...
"Yeah. He might. This is, like, a huge thing. He swore me to, like, secrecy. I think I'm, like, the only one who knows," Christ- can she not say a single sentence without using the word 'like'?! That *totally* outweighs the cuteness she's got going for her.
"So? I'm 'like family', remember?" Because dammit, I'm curious now. And I'm sure as hell not gonna ask Lance what she's talking about. He'll probably get pissed that I was even talking to her. I don't care *what* she says. He wants to fuck her. End of story. As it is, he gets annoyed with me for the girls I bring home. If I brought home a chick *he* wanted... Well, let's just say... I don't think the house would still be standing by the time he got finished with me.
"I can't! I'm sorry!" She actually sounds it, too. Well, maybe I can ignore the frequent use of 'like'... She *is* pretty cute... Wait. No. Lance. Death by collapsing roof. Not fun. Bad Pietro. Bad.
"Yeahyeah. Whatever. Get lost before I start thinking that you're hitting on me," Before I start hitting on you. Can't help it. Knee-jerk reaction. If they're fuckable, I gotta hit on 'em. Unless I think that might result in my death, that is...
"I gotta catch up with Kurt and Evan, anyways... I'll, like, see you later!" I wave my hand dismissively as she leaves, taking quick note of of the blush on her cheeks, and the way those capris fit perfectly on her ass. I guess I can understand why Lance wants her so bad. She's pretty fuckable. For a girl.
~tbc~
Whee. Pietro's a spaz. And a mental case. Fun, fun. For those that didn't pick up on it, Pie was taling about cutting, there, in the beginning. And the sleepiness is a typical depression-related thing. ::nods::
He's got quite the mouth on him, doesn't he? ^_^ They must've done one hell of an editing/censoring job when they showed Evo on TV... ::snickers:: Okay, now- feed your local review whore. ^_^