Title: "A Parting Rose"

Rating: PG (Might change depending on the circumstances)

Summary: For eight years, they haven't spoken to each other. A memory and a child constantly reminds of what could have been. And still a question remains…will they ever be reunited again?

Chapter 1: Never Forgetting

His olive-green eyes were amazing. They were simply beautiful orbs, just as beautiful as his untidy jet-black hair that hung over them. His physique was quite slim, his skin slightly tanned. His smile was always a precious thing to see, never to be missed, and even when it was gone there was that small smirk lingering upon his lips. He was the most beautiful thing in her life… he was enough reason to keep living through the harsh life that New York's depression presented to them. He was enough to keep her memories intact. She could not forget, not with him around. She could never forget. Their similarities were uncanny. With his presence around, how could she ever forget him? It was as though he was there to serve as a constant reminder of what she once had. Of what they once had.

But that was all in the past now. She needed to focus on the present, on here and now, though she could not help but drift away sometimes into her thoughts, good and old, always reminding… never forgetting… and feeling oh so regretful. Eight years. It was too long, eight years. Eight years of being constantly reminded of her past. The object of her affection caused her this disarray. But she would never exchange him for anything else. Oh, she could never.

As much sadness as he may stir up in her, her son kept her intact. She fought relentlessly for new jobs in theatre for them. She needed to maintain the both of them. There weren't plenty job offerings—the film industry seemed to be taking over stage theatres now—but she somehow managed. She could always manage. She had been living the same life all her life. There was always a way. Their wages combined—for her son took part in a few small plays occasionally, whenever a child was needed—was enough to keep them alive, at least. And happy.

"Ma! Ma! Take a look at this!" Her son cut short all further thoughts of Ann as he flashed a newspaper clipping in front of her, looking thrilled. "It's a new play. They're still hiring actors, but take a look at this"—and he pointed towards big, bold letters under the same notice—"they're desperately looking for a female lead. You can do it, Mom, look at how much they'll pay if you do it!" Indeed the wage was quite a sum, and Ann knew that a wage like that could help pay off some of their expenses. Yet… her eyes landed on a particular name mentioned on the notice, and something caught in her throat. "Jack Driscoll," her son said happily, unaware of how she was taking it, "I hear he's quite a playwright!"

Ann felt a slight bit of anger towards the name in question. "I am not auditioning," she said dismissively and turned the paper away.

"Why not?" her son questioned. "It looks like it'll be a good play. And I know you can nail the part, Mom. You're good!"

"I am not auditioning, Kevin, and that's my final say."

He didn't understand. There was no way he could ever understand. She successfully had not made any contact with him for eight years, and she was determined to keep it that way. But her eight-year-old son insisted. It seemed like quite a nice role to take. But not if it was written by him. She would not do it if he was involved. Not with him. Though deep inside of her she longed for that long-lost affection they once had, affection that she could only revisit in her memories from eight years before, she could still feel her bitter anger for him… the memory of a rose always welled up in her mind. That was enough to keep her away. She would not make the same mistake again. She was not surprised that it hadn't lasted for long, anyway. Good things never lasted, not for her. "Kevin, please fold that paper and put it away," she asked gently of her son.

The boy folded the paper in his hands, his face driven by disappointment as he looked down to the floor. He didn't move to put away the paper. Instead, he went on to say, "There's a part for a young boy in that play. They'll probably settle for a short middle-aged man, but I bet I can take the part." His eyes slowly turned upwards as he again looked at Ann, silently pleading her to let him go for the part. "I can convince them to, I'm good! I'll show 'em! If you won't go for the money, I will!"

Ann smiled hopelessly. He would be turning nine soon, only a couple months until then, but often he seemed to act much older than his present age. He was quite persistent, resolute. He knew their current financial situation, he worked alongside his mother in the theatre much of the time, and if not, he watched. He was witness to everything she did, including her dealing with financial matters. Ann was sad to say that much of his life was spent worrying about how much money they had, a little too much than a child his age should worry about.

She turned away from his eyes. "I'm sorry. But we're not taking part in that play. We'll find another one. I'm sure there are other theatres looking for several actors right now. We'll settle for others." Kevin had parted his lips, as though he were ready to protest, but then he remained silent and turned away, stashing the newspaper elsewhere. His eyes landed on a small sum of money placed upon their dining table and his eyes lowered.

"I wish Father were alive," he said quietly.

Ann did all she could to maintain her composure in front of her child. But God, how hard it was!

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Next up, we'll take a look at Jack Driscoll. Please review! I will greatly appreciate any feedback. I want to know if I'm doing things right and if you find anything wrong with either my writing, or characterization, or anything, please let me know! I would like to fix anything before I move on. I'm not a perfect writer, however, so please bear that in mind. I try. Also, I hope I didn't portray Ann as too hopeless in this. I'm not sure if I did… but you also have to keep in mind that it has been eight years, and people can change a lot in eight years. Many things have happened since then. This is just the first chapter, so we'll see how it goes! I'll update soon!

- The Pocky Lover