General info: AU – Songfic. Ryan was able to save Marissa after the accident. Taylor went to France, married Henri Michel, and didn't get a divorce. A small moment shared between Ryan and Taylor makes them reflect on the current state of their lives. Kind of dark and light at the same time.
Pairings: Ryan & Marissa, Taylor & Henri Michel … intense Ryan & Taylor moment that may lead to more some day (it's an AU… who knows?)
Music: You're Beautiful by James Blunt – Back to Bedlam (Custard Records, 2004)
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YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL
My life is brilliant.
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"Come on Ryan!" Marissa exclaimed. People stared at her. They stared at us. We are so wasted. It was all her idea to come to New York. She said something about how I hadn't lived yet. Apparently I spent my entire life in a bubble called California – first Fresno, then Chino, then Newport, and then Berkley. She said I needed to travel outside of the bubble to live.
Live.
She almost died a year ago. I saved her.
Her idea of living was getting drunk and high on coke and x. That's pretty much all we've done in the whole week we've been here. It bugs me but then I figure it's better that she does these things with me instead of going back to the guy that almost killed her. At least I won't hurt her and I'll be there to save her in case anything happens.
All of a sudden she decided that being high on a subway during rush hour would be fun… like a rollercoaster. I've never been on a rollercoaster because I'm afraid of heights. I was hesitant because I didn't know if I wanted to know what being on a rollercoaster felt like.
Her whining won out and here we are… high, in a subway, navigating our way through people while we're being moved through a tunnel. I see blurred faces and lights. I hear the dinging of a bell every time we stop, the conversations of people around me, and the sound of metal grating against metal.
I don't think this is what a rollercoaster feels like. I'm pretty sure that Marissa is either too high to think straight or just plain stupid.
"Ry-aaan!" she calls behind her as she begins to make her way through the crowd again. I follow Marissa blindly. I love her. I'd do anything for her.
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My life is brilliant.
My love is pure.
I saw an angel.
Of that I'm
sure.
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The subway stops again and so do we. She laughs and I smile at her. I look around and see people are still staring at us but I don't care. It's not like I'll ever see any of them again in my entire life. We leave in two days and I doubt I'll ever come back here.
My eyes stop roaming the subway car when they land on a woman in a white dress.
I think she's an angel because… God, she's beautiful.
She's too beautiful for words. Long auburn waves cascade down her shoulders and back. I watch as she pushes her bangs out of her face in practiced ease with one dainty finger and find myself drowning in her eyes. She has the brightest pair of hazel orbs I've ever seen… so hypnotic and enchanting. They're surrounded by thick, long, curving lashes that make me notice the way her eyes curl up at the ends.
She has such a tiny and delicate frame, but I can tell that she's strong.
She's smiling. Her lips are pink. They look so soft. Her smile would probably be bright enough to light up the entire subway if there was a power outage or something. Her smile grows wider and I watch as her lips stretch as they curve upwards, revealing pearly white teeth. It's the most beautiful smile I've seen in my entire life – an angel's smile.
She has to be an angel. She's too beautiful to be anything else.
I figure she must be smiling at the guy she's with and look up into her bright hazel orbs. I'm taken aback when I realize she's looking at me.
The angel is looking at me with her beautiful hazel eyes.
The angel is smiling at me.
Me?
I feel something welling up inside me. An emotion I haven't felt in a while… something I'm not sure I've ever felt before. It feels foreign and I can't name it or place my finger on it. All I know is that I feel…
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She smiled me on
the subway.
She was with
another man.
But I won't lose
no sleep on that,
'Cause I've got
a plan.
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Henri Michel wanted me to show him some sights of my native country.
My mother had been upset when she found out I married a French man but when she recently found out exactly how rich he was she invited us to stay with her for a while. Despite my protests, Henri accepted the offer.
I figured I may as well kill two birds with one stone. We took the ferry to New York and I showed him the Empire State Building, Times Square, Central Park and the Statue of Liberty – which according to him is the most beautiful landmark in America. I told him that his opinion is just clouded by the statue's French origins. We're currently on the subway. I figured it would be faster than taking a cab during rush hour traffic to get to the station from where we will take a train to California.
I can feel someone's gaze upon me. I have for a while now and it's beginning to become somewhat unnerving. I look around again to try and figure out exactly who it is. I hope I'm not being stalked. It's different when I'm the one doing the stalking. I'm harmless… just curious and obsessive-compulsive.
I don't believe it. Marissa Cooper and Ryan Atwood. I wonder what they're doing on a subway in New York. The last I heard from Summer, they were still going strong and at UC Berkley together. Summer… I should call her and Seth to see if we can meet up while I'm in Newport. She and Seth both mentioned that they planned on spending the summer back home. They were pretty much the only friends I had in high school. Even though Seth told me I was part of the 'fab-five' before I left for Paris, I never really felt close enough to Ryan or Marissa to actually consider them to be friends. Seth told me about the accident. I felt bad for the girl and was actually thankful that Ryan had managed to save her. The girl was a mess but he always seemed to keep her in line.
I don't think Marissa has even noticed me but Ryan is still staring. They look a bit… off.
I smile at Ryan, unsure of what else to do.
He continues to stare at me, unblinkingly. I don't know if he recognizes me or what because all he does is stare. There's no wave of the hand, no nod, no smile… just nothing but his deep blue stare. It becomes a bit too unnerving so I turn to Henri Michel and begin to ask him about the next episode of "Je Pense" that we are scheduled to be on.
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You're beautiful, You're beautiful,
You're
beautiful, it's true.
I saw your face
in a crowded place,
And I don't know
what to do,
'Cause I'll
never be with you.
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The angel stops looking at me and starts talking to the guy she was with. She's with him and I'm with Marissa.
I look into Marissa's eyes. They look deader than they did a year ago when I prayed to God, if there ever was one, and begged him not to take her away from me. There are bags under her eyes and she looks so skinny, pale, and sickly. She looks so lanky in her black tank top and black jeans. The thin strap of her top is falling off her shoulder and I can see part of her boob because she isn't wearing a bra. What happened? Where did the girl I saw at the end of Sandy's drive go? How did she end up like this? Am I responsible for this? Am I the one who turned that beautiful girl into this… this… this creature?
I hear the bell and seconds later the subway starts up again. This time Marissa doesn't say anything to me. Instead, she grabs my hand and tries to pull me after her. When she fails, she turns to look at me and frowns. I can't help but notice that it doesn't do anything to me. I don't feel anything but I still follow her blindly.
Her hand feels cold and clammy in and around my own – much unlike the ethereal warmth radiating from the angel we are approaching.
I watch the angel, trying to memorize her beauty – her bright hazel eyes, auburn silk, tanned skin, pink lips, and otherworldly smile. She diverts her attention away from the guy she's with and looks at me with bright eyes and a wide smile.
I watch as her eyes roam over me… as she takes me in. Her face falls as her eyes meet mine once again. Her smile falters into a slight frown and her innocent eyes lose their brightness as they become shaded with fear, worry, and a hint of distaste. She glances at Marissa, adding shock and confusion to the mix, before looking back at me with sadness and pity. She looks away from me, avoiding my gaze and appearing troubled.
She's an angel. Nothing should trouble her.
The man she's with keeps talking to her about something and she pastes a smile on her face. There's something about that fake smile that's familiar. I can't place my finger on it… but there's something…
We pass the angel and Marissa lets go of my hand. She calls my name and I don't budge because I notice my reflection in the window. My hair is a mess, my shirt is wrinkled and buttoned in all the wrong holes, and my jeans are too baggy. I look older than I really am. There are bags under my eyes and lines on my face. I look skinny and weak. I look like her. Why didn't anyone tell me I look so awful?
It dawns upon me that I haven't been home in months – not since Chrismukkah. I've been too busy at Berkley to go home and see my family. They would have told me that what I was doing and the way I was living was wrong. They would have gotten angry with me and straightened me out.
Maybe that was why the angel looked at me like that. She was trying to tell me. She was trying to help me. It's what angels do, right?
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Yes, she caught my eye,
As we walked on
by.
She could see
from my face that I was,
Fucking high,
And I don't
think that I'll see her again,
But we shared a
moment that will last till the end.
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Henri Michel can be very boring at times. I don't love him. I need him. I don't have anyone else. I'm so pathetic. If someone else was me, I'd probably laugh at them. The very idea makes me smile and I look away from Henri Michel to see Ryan Atwood approaching me. He was still staring at me with the same look on his face…
His face…
What happened to him? His eyes… I remember noticing how beautiful they were in high school. He looks so lost now – like he's barley there, holding on by a thread. There are bags under his bloodshot eyes and lines on his face that make him look so old. He looks sick. He looks like a fright. I take in his entire appearance – the messy clothes, the old look, the eyes, the loss of weight – and it hits me.
Ryan Atwood is a druggie.
Ryan Atwood – the reformed felon from Chino who dreamed of becoming an architect and graduated in the top five percent of Harbor's class of 2006 – was a druggie.
How could he have turned out like this? There's no way his family knew. They would have stepped in and put an end to it. I don't even know if I should inform them or not. How am I supposed to break news like this to them? Maybe I could tell Summer and swear her to secrecy where my name was concerned.
I glance at Marissa who still hasn't noticed me. I thought she would have learned her lesson after the whole Surf Nazi debacle that nearly resulted in her death… but I guess I was wrong. She looks worse than him and… MON DIEU! Her breast is ready to pop out of her top.
I look away quickly, my eyes focusing on Ryan again. He's still staring at me. I wonder why he won't stop while another part of me reasons that it must have something to do with the fact that he's high.
He loves Marissa. There's no doubt about that. His current state is a testament to that love. After the accident he was probably so afraid of losing her that he gave into whatever she wanted just so that she'd stay with him. It's just so sad that he would throw away his life and all of his potential for her. I can't fathom it.
… Most likely because I've never felt it…
I've never been in love.
It hits me like a ton of bricks while I'm looking into Ryan Atwood's eyes. I look away from him and over at Henri Michel who is still talking about something or the other. I paste a smile on my face while my mind begins to reel.
Ryan and Marissa walk away without saying anything and I'm actually quite grateful because I don't trust my voice right now.
I don't love Henri Michel. He deserves to be with someone who will. I can't depend on him. It isn't fair to either of us. I need to divorce him and learn to stand on my own two feet.
I want to fall in love one day… despite how demented and twisted love might be.
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You're beautiful, You're beautiful,
You're
beautiful, it's true,
I saw your face
in a crowded place,
And I don't know
what to do,
'Cause
I'll never be with you.
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"Ryan, come on!" Marissa says as she wobbles back over to me. "What are you doing?" she asks, watching me stare at the window. "Oh shit" she murmurs when she sees her own reflection. I look at her reflection and watch as she uses her boney fingers to fix the strap of her tank top so that her cleavage is no longer visible.
I didn't do this to her. I know it. She did it to herself. I saved her twice and both times she messed up and ended up being far worse than she was before. I don't want to do it again. I don't want to have to save her again. I don't think I can.
It's her choice though. She needs to decide. All I know is that I can't keep on like this. Look at me. I'm such a mess. This isn't me. Sandy didn't save me so I could turn out like this. He saved me so that I could actually have a future.
"Marissa" I begin as I turn to look at her "we need to end this."
"Okay. I think so too. I feel like I'm going to puke" she said. I'm confused and a bit disgusted with the nauseated look on her face at first; but then I realize that she's talking about the subway. Maybe this isn't the best place to talk about this. "Next stop?" Marissa asks and I nod. We shouldn't be in public and she shouldn't be high when we talk about this.
I think back to the angel and remember her bright eyes and beautiful smile. I know I will never see her again, but I want to remember her and the moment we shared for the rest of my life. She saved me. A part of me wishes that I could be with her, but I can't. It'll never happen. I don't know who she is or where she's from, and I'm just not worthy of her – not when I'm like this.
The angel who saved me deserves so much more – she deserves the best.
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You're beautiful. You're beautiful.
You're
beautiful, it's true.
There must be an
angel with a smile on her face,
When she thought
up that I should be with you.
But it's time to
face the truth,
I will never be
with you.
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Author's Note
This is the first song-fic I've ever written. I hope you enjoyed it.
I know it's a little weird, but the idea just popped into my head and I went with it.
I get that some of things might not make sense – like the randomness of Ryan's thoughts, and his inability to recognize that "the angel" was Taylor. My reasoning, or convenient excuse, for this is that he is under the influence of drugs and alcohol. His inability to recognize Taylor also had to do with her new appearance (she was no longer a prep monster in season four) combined with the fact that he barley knew her.
Feedback is greatly appreciated. Please review and let me know what you think. I'm curious… despite curiosity having killed the cat.
- Roz