Author's Note: This wasn't written for anyone except myself and my fellow author Auria. The only reason it's on this site is because I wanted somewhere safe I could archive it. It's not original fiction, otherwise I would send it to FictionPress. It IS based in the world of Final Fantasy 8, which is the only reason it's here. I don't expect people to read this, and I expect fewer to understand it. It's simply there for my own benefit, sort of as an excercise to get back into writing. This is my first step in possibly creating more fiction (and for those of you that ever read TWBU, my apologies. I'll finish it before I'm forty, I haven't given up, just lost interest for now.)

Anywho, this is just a oneshot songfic for some RP characters based in the world of FF8. Read if you wish, but please don't flame me as I have done nothing to offend anyone and you were warned about the content of this story before you read it.

Sorry to anyone who feels this is a waste of their time--you didn't have to click the link. ;)

Brazen.

P.S. If you're brave enough, you may find some information on the characters of this story in this RP thread and these character bios. The names you're looking for are April and Travis.

And the song in this fic is Piano Song (Hold On) by The Starting Line. Enjoy.


Piano Song

Her life was more than mine.

He shivered against the rain, pulling his long black coat around him as he stared blankly at the pink tinted marble stone before him. "Give me a minute," he had said to his family, and they had backed away to the cars, all with the same sad, knowing look in their eyes. The umbrella he had brought with him lay useless on the ground next to his feet—he allowed the rain to wash over him, drown his face, his eyes, with the sky's tears. They were weeping for her…who wouldn't…

Like a proud shooting star into the night,
She crashed through the airways and ripped like a knife.

One month. One month they had told him. She'd been gone a whole month by the time he'd opened his eyes long enough to hear the news. One month…and still, if he'd closed his eyes he would have seen her again, real and perfect against his gaze as if nothing was wrong. Her smile would warm him, her arms would engulf him like a blanket in the dead of winter and protect his soul from the January frost that was his life. And she would kiss him gently and tell him she loved him. And he would be home. Every time he blinked he would be home.

But now he couldn't close his eyes. He could never bear to see her again…not now that he knew for the past month she hadn't been real. He wouldn't sleep, wouldn't rest, wouldn't blink. He'd never go home again. Not without her. She was lost. And now so was he.

It was a bad disease,
Her searching was over, over…

/Don't cry…she wouldn't want you to cry…/ The soothing voice of his guardian whispered to him in his mind.

"Wouldn't she?" he answered, his cerulean eyes brimming with salty spring rain. "If you say she'd want me to be happy, then you didn't know her." A cynical smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he reached out to gently wipe the water gathering on the rim of the pink headstone. "She would have been angry if I didn't mourn her."

/But she would have loved you just the same…/

His throat tightened and his hand froze. "Aye…" his voice cracked. Then against his better judgment, he blinked. Nothing. His ocean-eyes threatened to flood and his fingers shook as he pulled it back from the stone. "…I never told her, did I? I mean…I told her…but not really."

/…She knew…/

Hold on to the light that guides you,
Hold on to the air that cools you,
Hold on, hold on to me.

He tore his eyes away from the stone and tried to focus on the field beyond the family plot. As per their families' requests, she had been brought here to sleep. It was only appropriate. The wild angelica was in bloom, along with the foxglove and pink willowherb…she would have loved to see the tribute the fields had given her in defiance to the tears being shed by the skies. It was the perfect resting place, he thought. Only the best for her.

Her mind stead fast through time,
Her family stood by trying hard not to cry,
With patience and virtue kept strong through the night.

They told him when he awoke how hard she had fought, how she'd clenched her fists and her eyes and dared to shake off the darkness as they struggled to pull her out of her nightmare. He blinked again, and the image of her thrashing against the tubes and the machines, tears streaming in silent protest down her cheeks flashed behind his eyelids, and he gasped, forcing his eyes open once more against the storm. His breathing became heavy as his lungs gasped for air—he couldn't shake the image of her dying form fighting against the delusion…fighting for her dreams. Their dreams.

She never fell to her knees.
Her searching was over, over…

He dropped to the ground before the eternal headstone, his knees crushing the delicate flowers beneath him as he gave into the sodden earth. The rain poured over him, soaking his hair, his shoulders, his entire body as he leaned his head back, gazing up at the gray sky and letting it cleanse him. He felt so dirty, so unclean, so unworthy of her love. She had fought so hard for him, and he had never known she was gone. He didn't even get to say goodbye.

Hold on to the light that guides you,
hold on to the air that cools you,
Hold on, hold on to me.

The tears were spilling over his eyelid's now on their own accord, his quiet sobs wracking his body as the warmth left him and all that was left was the rain. He blinked away the water, each time seeing her delicate face flash behind his eyelids. His shoulders shook as he lost his composure. A gentle wind swept past him, nudging him forward, and he swayed, propping himself weakly with one hand against the headstone. He let the tears fall to the ground at the feel of the cold stone against his palm, and slowly he closed his eyes.

Hold on to the light that guides you,
hold on to the air that cools you,
Hold on, hold on.

He could see her clearly now against the dark, like a shining light burning into his heart. She was smiling at him, tears trailing down her face as her chin quivered. Her hand reached out to cup his cheek, and as he leaned in, he gasped at how real her touch felt. The breeze against his back died down to a dull warmth, as if her golden hair and bright eyes were part of the sun itself, chasing away the shadows ripping away his spirit. And there he cried for her, with his palm resting gently against the sacred words etched into the pink marble. Behind his eyelids, she was holding him as he wept, cradling him against her again as if he were a lost child, and she rocked him as he struggled to hold on to her.

"Please don't leave me…" he begged, and the harsh sound of his own voice reminded him that he was already alone. She faded against her own light, bringing the breeze back along with the tranquil rain.

And then my eyes stretched out as I saw her hand slip away…

His eyes fluttered open. It was just another dream.

/Look…/

The soft voice of his guardian alerted him to the faint sniffling sound somewhere close by. He looked down and his brow furrowed in wonder at the tiny mirage he saw sitting on a toadstool growing at the base of the headstone. The pink blur sat curled into a ball—he could see her tiny hands cupping her face as she wept for her friend. Surely it couldn't be…there was no way they could have survived her death. It had to be another dream.

Hold on to the light that guides you,
Hold on to the air that cools you,
Hold on, hold on to me.

He reached out slowly for the miniscule pixie, not realizing that as he did so, the sun began to peek at him through the storm clouds. The ray of light caused the fairy to jump, hiding behind the toadstool. He saw her blink up at him questioningly, her wings fluttering forlornly as her gaze flitted frantically from him to the words on the headstone. She sniffled, drying her eyes before disappearing in a frantic flight.

He sat up in shock, rocking back on his knees as he breathed heavily in disbelief. A gentle breeze ruffled the wildflowers next to him and he realized that it had stopped raining. The sun began to push away at the darkened sky, and as it moved through the clouds, he could feel the rays projected down on him in a miraculous way, filling him with the warmth he had only felt when he was with her. It illuminated the words on her grave, shining against the intricate cuts in the marble.

April Loving Nichols
Cherished sister, lover, and friend.

There are many choices to make in one's life.
No matter what path you choose, learn to love…

…and believe.

Hold on to the light that guides you,
Hold on to the air that cools you,
Hold on, hold on to me.

And as he read her name on the stone, for the first time since he'd awoke the tears dried…and he smiled.

To me…to me…hold on to me.