Hope you're enjoying the story!
Disclaimer : I don't own Charmed or any of the songs used in the Fanfiction. All rights owned to their owners.
P.S Cookie to who ever can name the band who sings the song Chris sings!
-Chapter One : Sono Os-
He smiled softly at the interviewer as the distant call of "Cut" was called out from behind him. With a soft sigh, he lifted himself up from the off while arm chair. He kept his smile on while he hugged the woman who just spent the last hour interrogating him for entertainment. She thanked him for his time, while he thanked her for hers before he turned around and headed off of stage.
"About time,"
A soft smile, a spark of life flashing into his sage green eyes, stretched upon his lips as his long time girlfriend sauntered over to him. She grinned as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her long, layered black hair covered half of her face, hiding her right eye from his view. Her dark violet eyes sparkled with mirth, her pale skin a vast contrast to her dark features. Her body was clad in a tight leather corset and equally as tight black jeans. A swirly tattoo of a phoenix rising from its ashes on her upper arm and a proudly displayed Celtic knot on the back of her right shoulder decorated her skin, the tip of the knot peeking over to the top of the limb. A brushing of dark purple eye shadow, and thick black eyeliner finished the ensemble, along with an eyebrow piercing in her right one and a few studs in each of her ears.
"Sorry, she got a tad bit long winded," He said before pecking her lips.
She chuckled as she unraveled her arms from his neck. "You know you love interviews,"
He raised an eyebrow, it thin and black, "Right," He snorted before wrapping an arm around her thin waist as they made their way through the backstage of the studio. His army style boots were quiet in comparison to his girlfriend's heeled boots. He wore rather tight black pants as well, and a plain black t-shirt. Over that, he had on a ankle-length black coat. It was button shut, leaving only the collar of his shirt visible. Black fingerless gloves covered his hand, and a scarf covered his neck. He was dressed as if it was in the midst of winter when it was only early October in L.A. Chipped black fingernail polish and a touch of eyeliner, curiosity of his crazy girlfriend, also covered his body. On top of his head, a top hat with a thick white ribbon covered the bed hair that he didn't have the patience to brush out of this morning.
He sighed when he reached a thick, gray door. "Ready?" he asked his girlfriend.
"Do I have any choice?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, "I mean, I am dating you."
"Right, and you being part of the band has nothing to do with your popularity." He added with an eye roll.
She shrug, "Might have something to do with it."
He chuckled as he pecked the top of her head, "Only you Sky, only you."
She smiled before pushing the steel bar in front of them, and with a loud woosh, opened the door. Instantly, squeals of women and hoots of men reached their ears. They smiled at each other and stepped out into the hoard of fans that they called family. As fast as they could, the two signed CD's, posters, pictures and body limbs with their exotic signatures. "We love you!"
The y smiled and, from their threshold of their tour bus, waved at their faithful fans. "We'll see you tonight L.A!" Skylar yelled, her eyes sparkling with happiness.
"Marry me Damon!" A random woman yelled.
The man chuckled, "Alright taken, sorry." He said before giving Skylar a passionate kiss, the sound of cameras faint in their ears. Releasing her with a smile, he sent one last wave to the group before easing the door shut, the sound instantly dying.
"Front page," Skylar giggled, "I can see it now."
"Our relationship isn't new," Damon snorted with an eyebrow as he took his hat off and tossed it on the small dining table, it sounded by a padded, red booth.
Skylar shrugged, "Never stopped them before."
"Nothing will," He sighed as he started to unbutton his jacket, "Such are the woes of being famous."
"Oh, stop be melodramatic Chris." Skylar replied, rolling her eyes.
Damon, or Chris, smiled as he threw his jacket off and threw it on the booth. Standing behind his girlfriend, Chris wrapped his toned arms around her waist, and nuzzled her neck. "Well, we have a half an hour before the doofus comes back from his radio interview, what to do?"
Skylar smiled as she turned in Chris's embrace. Resting her forehead on his, she grinned widened. "Well, love," She paused to give him a passionate kiss, "You are going to go into the bathroom," Another kiss, this time started by Chris, "and brush that damn hair, it's like a nest."
Chris raised an eyebrow, "What?"
Skylar smiled, "What? It does, you didn't even attempt this morning did you?"
"I did," He protested.
"Bull, now go mister," Skylar said, smacking his butt, "We have a full-band interview after Ty get back."
Chris rolled his eyes, "Yeah, thirty minutes afterward."
"It takes us twenty to get to the studio, so that means, we have to leave as soon as he gets back genius."
"Fine, I'm going, I'm going." Chris said, throwing his hands up in the air, "God. Bad enough I have Ty on my ass about it, now I have you."
"Well, I"m your girlfriend, I have an excuse."
"What's Ty's?"
"Uhh," Skylar tapped her chin as she though, "Hmm, he's your boyfriend?"
Chris's signature eyebrow raise formed on his face as he blinked slowly, "Right. Because I'm in a threesome, and I'm suddenly bisexual."
"Uh, honey, you are bi."
"That's beside the point," Chris said as dug around for a brush in the bathroom, "I'm not sleeping with Tyler, that would be...weird since I've known him since like, kindergarten."
Skylar rolled her eyes, "You are so damn confusing Halliwell."
"Not a Halliwell anymore," Chris replied with a sigh as he started brushing his shoulder-length hair, the strands dyed a pitch, midnight black, "Lost that right the day I ran away Sky."
"For good reasons," Skylar said as she leaned against the sink, "I mean, your father was a complete asshole. Who the hell beats their child?"
"Who the hell doesn't tell their family and just ups and leaves one day?" Chris retorted as he threw the brush back into the drawer, his eyes narrowing on it once it landed, "I mean, I just left, no note, no nothing. Changed my name, my looks, everything."
"Yes, I know honey," Skylar said, rolling her eyes as she grabbed Chris's upper forearms, "I mean, when I first met you, I never pegged you as a closet goth."
"It was a complete 180 from what I was," Chris muttered with a shrug, "Although, I didn't plan on wearing eye liner and nail polish." He added with a small, mock glare.
Skylar smiled, "Admit you like it."
"Nope."
Skylar shrugged, "Okay," she tapped her chin, "I wonder how you would look blond."
Chris narrowed his eyes into a harsh glare, "No."
Pouting, Skylar looked at her boyfriend, "Why not?"
"I'm not going blond,"
"Why not? You'll look hot."
"My brother is blond," Chris replied frowning, "so is Leo."
"So, how about blond with brown highlights." She proposed.
Chris rolled his eyes, "we just redyed my hair, no."
Skylar sighed, "Fine."
"Thank you." Chris said before walking out of the bathroom.
Skylar smirked, "I'll just do it when you're asleep. Done it before."
"Sky! I said no!"
"And that was "Attack" by Pariah." The hostess said with a large smile, "And our number eight video on this week's countdown, and big leap from number 14." She continued, "Perhaps next week, it will be our number one, you never know with their fans of theirs. Now, onto our number seven video..."
"Damn it,"
Wyatt rolled his eyes at his younger cousin's anger, "Calm down Sam, Jesus."
"Shut up Wy," Samantha snapped, her hazel eyes flashing with anger, "You just don't understand."
"You're crazy, what is there to understand?" Wyatt snorted as he turned off the television as the most recent Justin Bieber video came on, "Damn kid needs to retire."
Samantha sighed as she brushed her long chestnut brown hair out of her face, "God, wish I wasn't in college right now."
"Why?" Wyatt asked as the two Halliwell's rose from the couch and started to make their way to the kitchen, "So you can go to a Pariah concert?"
"Duh," Samantha said with a large smile as she practically skipped to the kitchen, "I heard they put on the best show ever!"
Wyatt shook his head, "You need a new obsession,"
Samantha turned around and stuck her tongue out as she opened the swinging white kitchen door, "You just being like this because you don't like them."
"They have a few songs that I like," Wyatt retorted as he made his way to the fridge while Sam sat at the island, "I'm just not obsessed like you. Freak."
"Where's Aunt Piper?" Sam asked, her eyes sweeping over the empty kitchen, "The whole reason I drove down here was to have some good cooking." She muttered.
Wyatt rolled his eyes, "Two things. One, thanks, thought you would love to just see us but I guess not, and two, you orbed."
"God, you're as sarcastic as..." She trailed off, her eyes widening.
Wyatt sighed, "As Chris, yeah, I know. I mean, we were brothers, so I guess it would be obvious that we have some similarities."
Samantha sighed, "God, its been what five, six years? Seems so much longer."
Wyatt nodded, "Yeah, he would be turning twenty one in two months." A sorrowful chuckle left the twice-blessed's lips, "I remember us planning to go bar-hopping once he turned twenty-one."
"Wy..."
The blond shook his head, "I just want answers. I mean, one night, he was home, smiling, the next day, he's gone and we can't find him! With or without magic! How the hell does someone just fall off the map like that? I mean, he even closed the connection we had together. It still feel strange Sam. I have like a blank void in my mind and heart."
"Wyatt, I under-"
"Don't even say you understand Samantha," Wyatt growled, his short temper flashing to life, "Chris and I had a connection that rivaled everyone. I could feel everything of his, thoughts, feelings, everything. Then suddenly, its gone. We were suppose to continue the line, become the new Charmed Ones, him and I, and now I wonder what's going to happen. I mean, even I have the whole family to protect me if we never find him. But, he doesn't have anyone Sam. He's part of the Charmed One line, they know he's next in line to the metaphorical throne, and they'll want to kill him before he can take on that chance. He doesn't have one to protect him Sam, he's alone." Wyatt grew quiet, "He always hated being alone."
"We'll find him Wyatt," Samantha said, grabbing her cousin's hand that was fisted on the island table top, "Aunt Piper, Aunt Phoebe and Mom haven't stopped looking."
"Its been five years Sam, if they haven't found him yet, they won't."
Sam smiled sadly, "Don't give up Wy. We'll find a way, the Halliwell family has gone through more."
Wyatt sighed and set his forehead on the wooden top, "I just miss him I guess. We were suppose to go to college together, god we were suppose to do so much together, never realized that."
"Yeah, yeah, we heard it numerous times," Sam chuckled, "He was going to be the choir/music teacher, and you were going to be the English teacher so you two could have the same schedule and help innocents in your free time. You two had everything down to the T."
Wyatt snorted, "We were nerds."
"Wyatt, you're still a nerd. Now, can we go back to the TV, there is a Pariah interview coming on that I would like to see."
Chris nestled into the beige couch with a faux smile as six camera got ready and honed in on his, and his bandmate's faces. Skylar was sitting on his right while Tyler was on his left. Tyler's smile was more true then Chris's. He loved this life, and every second of it while Chris missed those days of just sitting on his bed whispering lyrics to his walls, but he also love the screaming of fans when he belted out his words.
Tyler has sparkling hazel eyes, the irises the color of dark bronze. He has a small speckling of freckles across the bridge of his nose and on his cheekbones. Bright, brunt red red bangs hung in front of his eyes and covered his ears, the full length falling to about his chin. He wore dark blue jeans with brown boots, a dark gray Metallica shirt and a dark brown leather jacket. His tongue swept across his chapped lips, and stopped to play with the blue stud that was nestled in the right corner of his mouth.
"Glad to have you here," The host, Matt, said as he sat down in the off-white arm chair across from them.
Chris smiled and reached forward to shake the man's hand, "Glad to be here."
"Ready?" Matt asked, his dark green eyes looking over the band's head at his director telling him five seconds.
"Yep," Tyler said with a large grin.
"Three, Two," They heard the countdown, and from the corner of his eye, Chris could see the queue to start come from the director.
"Hello, and welcome to the Musical Minute," Matt greeted, a large smile on his stubble bearded face, "And today's guest is none other than Pariah. These three have been climbing the chart since their sophomore disc, Lumen, and topping the top 10 again with their third disk, Aperio. Their videos are one of a kind, and their video for the song, Runaway, has been rushing up the Top Twenty Countdown since its debut three weeks ago. So, please, welcome Damon, Jaiden and Skylar!"
A loud, faux crowd clapped as the camera panned over to the band, each of the faces smiling broadly, their eyes sparkling with happiness. "Hello, and welcome to the show guys and girl."
"Thanks," Chris/Damon answered.
"So, your newest disk, Aperio, you – Damon – said that it was like ripping your heart out. What do you mean?"
"Well, we reached into our chests and tore our hearts out," He answered simply with a shrug, "its something I wouldn't suggest doing because it hurts like hell."
"Dee," Skylar said, rolling her eyes.
Matt chuckled, "Tight leash, eh?"
"You have no idea," Chris answered, rolling his eyes, "But, back to the original topic before I get killed here. What I meant when I said that, was that we tore away all of our barriers, and every word written that is sung, is written by myself and every chord played, and every drum beaten has been thought up by one of us."
"But, haven't you written all of the songs on the other CD's as well?" At Chris's nod, Matt followed up with, "Why does that make this any different?"
"With the other two CD's, while the lyrics are heartfelt, aren't truly who we, or I, was. It was like I was wearing a mask while I was writing them. This time, I tore of the mask, and wrote what I felt and what I've been through."
"So basically, this CD is sort of an autobiography of yours?" Matt inquired, inching forward on his chair, his soft sea green eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Chris chuckled at the interviewer's pathetic attempt to uncover the shadowed past of Damon's. "You could say that, but it would only be scratching the surface of a very long story."
Samantha pouted as she sank deeper into the couch, "God, he's so damn secretive. Can he just give us a bit of information about where he came from?"
"Isn't it bad enough that he has the press on his butt all day?" Wyatt snorted, rolling his eyes.
Samantha sighed, "I guess. But, it could be cool to know where he grew up. I mean, he said he was born in San Francisco, maybe you went to school with him!"
"You're acting like a five year old," mumbled Wyatt, "And he's younger than me."
"Only by a few years. God. You could've been a Senior or something, and he could've been a Freshman or a Sophomore."
"There was no Damon at my school." Wyatt answered his over zealous cousin, "I think we need to get this obsession looked at too. You're a college student, act like it, please."
After sticking her tongue out at her too-serious cousin, the Matthews girl turned back to the TV.
"Now, I heard a certain rumor that has been going around," the interviewer said, leaning closer to the the band with a smirk on his handsome, cleanly shaven face, "and I want to know if its true."
"Well, you might have to be a bit more specific, there's a lot of rumors around." Tyler replied, snickering, "Especially this one," He added, gesturing towards the frowning Damon.
"The one about some guy loving on the bus,"
Damon rolled his sage green, eye liner rimmed, eyes, "That again? Isn't that the sixth or the seventh time that's been around in the past six months?"
"Eighth I believed," Tyler answered with a smirk, "Well, I guess our secret is out, love." The red-head purred as he rested his head on Damon's shoulder.
The black haired man nodded sadly and intertwined his hand with Tyler's, "It appears so sweetheart. I guess we should finally own up to our scandalous love." His gaze shifted towards Skylar, the woman's lips in a straight line as mirth swam in her violet eyes, "I'm sorry Skylar, but the truth is, that I love Jaiden, and I've always have."
Skylar sniffled, "No, but Damon, I love you."
Sighing, Damon looked ashamed, "I know you do, and I love you as well. But as a sister, please forgive me."
Skylar sighed and sniffled one last time, "Well, I guess we can finally fulfill that threesome fantasy that I always had."
A loud snort and burst of chuckles erupted from the two men. Matt looked between the three bandmates with slight confusion, "Wha-"
Through his laughter, Damon managed to gasp out, "Jaiden and I aren't in a relationship, and Skylar and I are. There is no truth to that rumor at all."
"You three, God." Matt chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned back in the chair, "Only Pariah could do this."
The band smiled widely while Damon tightly grasped Skylar's hand, but Tyler's head stayed on his shoulder, the redhead's arm wrapped around his waist. They looked more like a family than a band.
Matt turned towards the camera with a large smile, "Well, we have to go to a commercial right now, but when we get back, Pariah has a special surprise for us. Stay tuned!"
Chris chuckled softly as he stood, the other two pouting that their headrest left them. The ex-Halliwell chuckled, "Well, I need to go set up, you two make yourself comfortable." He said before leaning down and pecking Skylar's lips.
"Hey! What about me? God, I'm your boyfriend." Tyler said, pouting.
Rolling his eyes, Chris bent down and pecked Tyler's forehead, "Better love?' He asked with a raised eyebrow, "Wouldn't want my boyfriend to feel like he's getting the short of the stick of our fantasy threesome now."
"Well, I mean, you didn't kiss me on the lips, but I guess I'll let it slide now," Tyler replied smirking, "We'll make it up later in the bathroom love."
"It's a date," Chris chuckled before heading over to the stage where Alex – a groupie – was holding his guitar. It had a light brown Sitka spruce top, a black pick guard, neck and bridge. Indian rosewood gave it a deep cherrywood like finish to its sides and back. It was worn from the years he's played it, it going on about ten years. Grabbing it by the neck, he looked at the familiar guitar. His Uncle Henry, the only other musician in the family, gave it to him and then for a year and a half proceeded to teach him how to play it. His Uncle taught him everything he knew, and he loved that man as if he was the father that Leo wasn't. He practically was. He was the one that he cried to when his family's stress got to much. He was the one that always questioned the bruises that Leo forgot to heal after the beatings. Chris was pretty sure Henry knew what was going on, but he didn't know who to blame or how to rectify it without causing the abuser to attack/kill Chris. So he took Chris on crazy trips that would last days, sometimes weeks. Henry never spoke about the abuse or anything while on those trips.
Chris sighed with a fond smile on his lips as he sat down on the stool; the guitar settled on his leg, a ruby red pick in his right hand.
It was on those trips that one day Chris did breakdown and told Henry everything. Henry, furious with Leo, got in the car and drove them back home. Too bad by time they reached the Halliwell threshold, Chris made his Uncle forget everything about what he said by the lake. Two weeks later, Chris packed up and left the Manor.
"And welcome back to the Musical Minute!" Matt's booming voice brought Chris back to the present, "And here's a special treat to all you Pariah fans."
The camera panned over to the smiling Chris as he began to strum a few chords, "What if I wanted to break? Laugh it all off in your face, what would you do?"
Wyatt winced when he heard Samantha squeal. He swore he could feel his ears bleeding at the high pitch. "God Sam."
"Its "The Kill" my favorite song. God, Damon is so...gah, when he sings this." Samantha replied, a large smile on her face, "What if I fell to the floor, couldn't take this anymore? What would you do?" She sang along.
"Come, break me down," Damon sang, his voice a hoarse whisper, it adding to the mysterious feel that the acoustic guitar gave the song, "bury me, bury me, I am finished with you."
"Depressing," muttered Wyatt, "Didn't know you were a closet Emo Sam, something you want to tell me?"
"Shh, before I silence you with a spell mister," Sam snapped, her eyes honed on the television.
"Beg for the rest of my life," sang Damon, his voice a tad bit clearer but not any louder, "What would you do? You said you wanted more...what are you waiting for...I not running from you." He leaned back and gather a large breath before belting out the next chorus, "Come, break me down! Bury me, Bury me, I am finished with you! Look in my eyes! You're killing me, killing me! All I wanted was you!"
Taking another deep breath, Chris whispered the next part of the song, his voice sounding as if it was choked with tears, "I tried to be someone else, Fighting for a chance, I know now..." He stopped strumming as he whispered the next line, "This is who I really am."
He sat there for a few moments, his eyes shut as the true meaning of this song flashed before his closed lids. Inhaling, he belted out the chorus the loudest he has acoustically, "Come break me down! Bury me, Bury me, I am finished with you, you, you . . Look in my eyes! You're killing me, killing me, I am finished with you." He strummed softly, his eyes sliding shut once again as he whispered the last remaining words, "What if I wanted to break? What if I...bury me, bury me." He sat for a few seconds as the last chord went through the small studio before whispering a soft, but heartfelt, thank you as the show cut to commercial. Sliding off of the black stool, Chris handed his guitar over to Alex before heading back to the couch.
He sank into the cushion with a soft sigh, trying to relax in the short amount of time that he had before the interview would once again commence.
Yawning heavily, Chris closed the tour bus door shut before jogging up the small flight to stairs. Throwing his long coat on to the booth next to Tyler, he headed to the coffee maker and pressed 'On.' "This thing is so slow." He groaned.
"You just turned it on," Skylar pointed out as she rolled her eyes.
"So," Chris replied before he stuck his tongue out, "I need some caffeine before the next interview."
Tyler looked at the vocalist from the corner of his eye, not bothering to turn his head away from the television. "Tired?"
"Just a tad bit," Chris answered as he bit back a yawn. Shaking his head, he looked at the TV, "Another pile up?"
"Nah, just three cars,"
Skylar chuckled, "Only in California would a three car accident not be a big deal,"
"Shh," snapped Tyler, "I'm listening, God. So annoying."
Chris rolled his eyes while he heard Skylar mumble something under her breath. Glancing at the coffee maker, and frowning at the lack of the brown liquid, he slid into the booth next to Skylar. "Where is this?" He whispered to the girl.
"On the 80 I believe," she replied, shrugging lightly.
"Doesn't look that bad," he mused as he narrowed his eyes on the small screen, "Except that red Ford got T-boned."
"Yeah, the driver probably got hurt pretty bad," Skylar murmured.
Chris sighed. Turning his attention back to the TV, and snapping at Tyler to turn it up, he tuned into the newscaster's voice.
"As you can see, that this is a horrific accident. One fatality, the driver of the Ford, and the passenger of the Ford is on the way to the hospital in critical condition. The others have made it through with mere scrapes and bruises. We are still trying to get the names of the people in the Ford, and once we do, you can trust Channel 5 to give you that information. Now, to recap. We have a three car accident on the Westbound side of Highway 80. It blocks two lanes, so you might have to change your route to get to your appointments on time. Police and Firemen are on scene. We have one fatality, a middle aged man, and his son – the passenger of the Ford – is on the way to the hospital in critical condition."
"Wow," breathed Chris.
Tyler nodded, "Sad too. I hope the son makes it through."
Their attention was snapped back when the elderly announcer snapped back to life as he was handed a small sheet of paper, "We have the names now. Sadly, the one who has perished is Derek Mickealson. He was 52, and lived in San Francisco. He had one son, Aaron Mickealson, age 23, and he's in critical condition. I repeat. The driver of the Ford was Derek Mickealson has sadly moved on, while his son, Aaron is at the hospital in critical condition. Our condolences to family and friends of the Mickealson family.
