Her voice is shut off. The phone drops silently on her couch and Bonnibel pads into her room, tripping and stumbling over her own legs the way there. Once under thick warm covers, her shaking doesn't cease. She doesn't even remember drifting off to sleep. Just staring fearfully at the ceiling one moment, then nothing the next.
Or at least she thinks.
Golden, shining. Rays of the sun bathe her body as her eyes peep open. Up above is the crispest, bluest sky. She sits up in the now tall grass, looking around at her surroundings.
Pendleton high, her old alma mater. Her old high school.
She's dreaming.
She's in the middle of their vast field, right underneath the shade of a familiar tree. She climbs to her feet, spinning in a circle, taking in the whole campus.
It's just like when they attended. Clean white walls, bright red lockers. Slightly worn basket ball courts with nets.
Nostalgia hits her with every sense newly added: the faint sound of chattering in the halls, shoes squeaking on the floors, papers ruffling, lockers clicking shut.
A bitter sweet feeling overcomes her as she finally realizes she's by the tree on the field. Their tree. Countless laughs lay here with her friends. After walking in a circle around the circumference, she trails her hand against the soft bark.
They dip in slightly of the uneven valleys of the carved in M. It moves over the mark until her fingertip is numb and her throat is closed shut.
Why can't you remember?
You said you'd never forget… You know why…
The voice she's heard, the whispers morph into an actual voice she can hear. The second she hears it, her heart drops. After a turn of the head so quick whiplash is a possible difficulty, she sees the form.
Standing in the bland grass up to her knees. In those… Oh those ripped jeans.
Those scruffy converse like they've been through hell and back, still holding up.
A loose grey t-shirt with the non committal 'no smoking' sign in faded red. It even lays just like she used to wear it; a lazy red flannel thrown over, one of the shoulders falling off.
That small worn silver necklace.
Ragged black locks go down to her lower back, close to over passing even that limit.
She's been avoiding that face. But now she has to come to terms with that lopsided grin. Bonnibel chokes on air itself, hand grasping for her painfully throbbing heart. When her eyes meet those same green irises, she loses all composure.
It all comes crashing back, all at once. Smoke, so much smoke.
Bleached floors, white sheets. Squeaky wheels on metal beds.
The tears flowing freely down her cheeks feel like a thousand degrees. Her knees threaten to give out, wobbling dangerously.
One step forward. It's too surreal, but there she is. Another.
One foot in front of the other. It s a tedious task, but soon the gap is closed. That same smile falters at her tears, just… just like it used to. Just-
"Bonnie?" The being breathes.
She hasn't heard that voice in close to six years. She hasn't heard that name in close to six years.
She's forgotten it all, pushed to the vault in her mind, to never be remembered.
Her hand trembles as she reaches out to touch her, afraid to do even that.
"Are.. you…please." The words can't make it out right. But oh when a pale hand reaches up to grasp her wrist, when warmth radiates through her palm, when she feels her skin against hers, her heart can't take it.
She falls against the girl, arms desperately reaching around her, pulling her closer. Her nose buries itself in the base of her neck like it used to. So many things she's forgotten, the..the feel of her hair, the texture of her shirt- she uses it to bring her closer.
The words chop out her throat, more like a cry than speech itself. "You.. you.." She goes to form a formidable sentence, but instead sobs into her chest, body wracking with the deepest sadness she's ever felt.
Pure pain. The worst she's ever felt. Everything comes crashing back, just like that one cloudy afternoon. That horrible phone call.
That's how it is when those arms don't hang limply at her sides like they should; they wrap around her too in turn, pressing into her back, one against her hair and the nape of her neck.
She only cries harder.
A voice comes seemingly a forever later, time being untraceable in this 'scape. If this is a dream, it's a nightmare and bliss wrapped up into one. Her cries turn into shudders when that voice speaks. When… Marcy speaks.
"Shh, don't cry. You know I hate it when you do; I'm supposed to be the one crying.." She pauses to tilt her head up to hers. "..not you. You're too strong for this. You always were."
Somehow, words find their way into her mouth, comprehensible. "I'm not strong."
Brows crinkle just like.. just like they used to-god everything she does is exactly the same, not a beat different. It's her. "You are the strongest person I've ever known, Bonnie."
She closes her eyes and murmurs, "Say my name again. P-Please."
"Bonnie?"
She nods, invisible tears coming down her cheeks again; they feel there, but somehow they're not.
Thin, calloused fingers interlace with hers and her stomach churns. It's too surreal, it hurts too much to be here, it… it. That feeling rises in her throat, hands clenching tighter until the material starts to wrinkle. It builds up, chest feeling like it's going to explode; it does.
She sees it coming and lets it out. It's her only chance.
"Why did you leave me!" Clenched fists pound against her chest in every emotion under the sun. "Why! W-WHY! I couldn't t-tell you. I never had the chance to tell you! We could've… we could've been more!" The blows eventually turn into one hard shove, but Marceline doesn't budge except for few steps back from the momentum.
"You left me alone, without my best friend in the world!"
She looks through blurry vision at the girl. Every question she's dreamed, wanted, ever wanted to ask. It's her only chance, yet all she feels is anger.
Marceline takes one slow step forward and grabs her fists, forcing her to meet her eyes. And in that cool, comforting gaze she finds everything.
"I'm sorry."
Her chest feels empty without anymore fire. In a sudden swoop the sky darkens, the grass no longer tickling her legs but scratching them. She gasps and looks to Marceline- to find her clothes torn and ragged, blood trickling down one side of her forehead. It's a mild version of what it truly looked like then.
Even the mild version makes her stomach churn in horror.
She frowns and holds Bonnibel, sighing into her. "Why did you forget me?"
The question feels like a stab to the heart. "I was afraid, I-I didn't want to think about it anymore." She looks down. "I just forced myself to forget."
She holds her close, looking up at the raging clouds above. Now it looks like a storm in the seas but in the clouds, each one dipping and crashing into each other like waves. The tree sways violently, bases mimicking rubber. "We don't have much time. It'll be over soon."
She spares a glance over her shoulder, to which Bonnibel follows, to see that sickly familiar red truck; the truck they'd hugged in, laughed in, god even almost kissed in… crunched up a couple meters away, on fire and spewing awful smoke. She glances up at the sky at the shock of lightning then back to the wreckage to see it's closer now.
Every time she tears her eyes away from the sight then returns to it, it's closer and closer.
Marceline takes her gaze, shaking her head that the horrified look in her eyes. "Shh don't focus on that. I need you for as much time that I have. Before the vault takes me away."
Bonnie presses her head to her chest, one arm around her waist, the other tugging at the hair by her ear. Marceline sighs into her, a hand over her back, the other at the nape of her neck, sending tingles just like before down the red-head's spine. It's just like when they danced at prom, feeling so much more than friends, but never saying such thoughts aloud.
It's another one of Bonnibel's many regrets.
She murmurs, letting her eyes close. "How much more time?"
"Meaning..?"
"Can I have one more song?"
Marceline laughs silently, body shaking. Blood dripping from her clothes stains the other's pink ones. "Remember that song I sang to you, but never fully finished the last verse?"
Bonnibel smiles at the memory of her in the park singing and laughing to the sound of the most beautiful guitar. "Yeah. It was the day before the…" She doesn't finish the sentence, knowing she'd loose her composure if she did.
"Sing it… for me. Just sing for me for once." Green eyes meet hers. "I've never heard you sing before."
With a thick swallow, she sings shakily like she just heard it the other day on the radio, lyrics immediately fresh in her mind.
"And I heard your voice…"
The wind picks up and she can smell the smoke now. Instead she inhales the unforgettable scent of her shirt, smiling despite the circumstances.
The body against hers dissipates, brushing away with the wind, but an invisible hold still holds her that way, unseen hands still tracing patterns on her back, the other running through her hair. A sudden warmth makes her open her eyes.
Black. Golden grass from the summer sways in the breeze under the light cloudy blanket, sky storm gone.
So much black. Black things on people. People wearing black.
"As clear as day…"
She doesn't focus on them, just the small tombstone in the ground, looking down on it. At that faded devious grin behind a curtain of black hair, eyes alit with promise. That faded picture on the grave stone. That face she'd only seen up close only heartbeats ago.
A small sheet flutters against the granite, held down by and unseen force. She picks it up; It's the lyrics of her serenade.
The serenade she received only four hours and ten minutes before it all went to hell.
"And you told me I should concentrate…"
She smiles for some reason, looking over the lyrics. It only widens, over each line, rereading that familiar scrawling handwriting. For a moment she feels psychotic. Why smile at your best friend's, your.. first love's... funeral? Even if it is in a fading dream, how twisted can you be?
"It was all so strange…"
Then when a hand taps her shoulder she looks over it with a grin. That same grin gives back, in a clean outfit, no more blood. It's the one with the leather jacket she bought her for Christmas when she was 16, the dress shirt that always made the other girls swoon and dark jeans with hightops. Ahh she could clean up nicely when she wanted to.
"This place is boring, so Imma head out." She awkwardly jerks a thumb over her shoulder.
A devious grin alights her eyes, previously dead butterflies lighting up her stomach after so long. "Let's just run around for awhile yeah? I've been boring for so long; I need to have some fun."
Without waiting for a reply she moves through the crowd, running as fast as her bare feet will carry her in the grain. She doesn't have to look over her shoulder to know the other girl is following.
She jumps in the air, does a cartwheel, anything really, feeling alive for the first time in awhile. Marceline joins her, eventually chasing her until they land in the dirt in a sprawl. They laugh like there's no care in the world, until eventually it dies down. Marcy wipes a strand of red hair from her cheek.
"You got my song lyrics right?"
She nods, holding up the perfect paper. "Yup-a-doodle." The word prompts that laugh to come again, if only for a second.
"Haha dork."
"I'm your dork." Her voice cracks.
Her eyes soften and she leans down to nestle her face in her neck. "Yeah.. my dork."
"Marcy? I think we don't have much time left." She starts, the details slowly becoming less defined. The girl frowns.
"Will you forget me again Bonnie?"
"And so surreal…"
Bonnibel stares at the paper before looking up to say, "I'll make sure no one will ever forget you again." A raised brow is her response.
"Really?"
"I remember you now Marcy. I'm sorry for even forgetting you in the first place. And knowing you.." She runs a hand through her hair, letting dark strands slip through. "That's all you need."
"Okay." For a heartbeat, Bonnibel's eyes trace down to her mouth and she really really considers the option of kissing her then and there. There's no consequences for such. Marcy sees it and smiles.
"I've wanted to kiss you ever since you kicked Ash in the junk." She waits for the other girl's chuckles to die down and bitter-sweetness tinges her features. "But... we can't now. I can't now. Since... we never had the chance to before. I wouldn't be the same."
"That a ghost should be so practical…"
She frowns. "I suppose so… I'll miss you."
"Well I gotta go. Hanging with you got dirt on my clean kicks, Banner." She smirks, getting up.
After a blink, she's gone, without trace, leaving swaying grains in her wake. So, getting up to move back n the middle of the crowd of black she blinks again-
Bonnibel jerks up in a cold sweat. The wetness trickles down her neck and her heart is racing so much its unhealthy. After a couple gulps of water and deep breathing, she's back to normal.
Red letters beside her head tell her it's 2:00am.
But she's not going back to sleep. Armed with a pad and a pencil, she writes down the copy of lyrics, burned into her memory.
"So what are you here for Bonnibel? I mean, I've known your family for awhile, but I'm still unsure to your purposes here. " The man crosses his fingers, looking up from the desk. The girl just smiles, straightening her blazer.
"Why sir, I want to do what I love." He cocks an eyebrow, asking for her to continue indirectly. "I've been working on this for almost a week now and it means more to me than you can possibly imagine."
He scoffs. "Ooh a week, so much effort. Hand it over." The paper is slid across the desk. His brows rise again, no spite in the expression unlike before.
"This… is good. Are you sure you want to work here? Music… Isn't the most reliable business."
"It's my dream." She beams at that.
"It'll be a long ride, and you might not even get where you want to be; at the top. Few truly do."
"I know that." He sighs, giving one last question.
"And it'll be a long time, getting a studio, back up singers, so much work. You have to be true. Also, Is this all? We ca't have only one song. "
"My friend wrote more than enough in her journal." Bonnibel frowns. "Why sir, this is what I want to do for the rest of my life, if that. This isn't a joking matter."
His sterns gaze tints into a slight smile. "Well, the chorus is very beautiful, if I might add."
She grins as they shake hands. "It's from an old friend." She swallows before adding, "Her dying wish."
His features soften.
Her chair scoots back as he motions her to stand.
"Only If for one night…"
She finishes, fingers ghosting over the keys of the piano with finality. She gets up from her seat as the stadium erupts into roars.
It's almost deafening, but on cue she knows she's done it. A whole album done with the help of Marceline's old journal. She spots Hunson grinning in the front row, tears in his eyes; it would've been impossible without him. Albums, millions of them bought, watched listen to, heck even countless interviews on the new artist under the name Princess Bubblegum, and this concert, but by god she's done it.
Keila peeks from backstage, along with Bongo and Guy. It was hard finding them all, but she did it. Brought them back together for this one album. Making her way to the top of the charts, going platinum was near impossible also, but she did it.
She winks at Keila and on cue; they pull the levers to drop thousands of pieces of golden glitter on the roaring crowd. Marceline always loved gold, second to red. Hundreds of thousands of faces in the crowd look on in amazement.
She could see Marcy nodding in approval among the crowd, as corny as it may sound.
Now, there's Glitter. Gold, so much gold glitter.
Gold shinning, bright as the day and night, whether or not she knew that this gold,
Closes the vault.
So, with the scream of the MC announcing her victories,
she raises her hands to address the cheers,
and her vault feels a so much lighter.
The song DekkaDemon was inspired by, and includes the lyrics in this chap, was "Only If For One Night" by Florence and the Machine.
I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did.
Cheers.
