I am completely stuck on "Arrows". So, I will be focusing on this story and banging my head on the wall at the same time. Outlines are so helpful, you know? Too bad I suck at remembering to do them. I'm trying to figure out how to write this story so that the story will move along but not at the speed of light. That is also ridiculously hard; I've just gained a buttload of respect for professional authors.
Chapter 3: Fire-storms start with a Spark
It's strange how a single deviation in any course of action can set off a chain reaction of events. No one expects significant results from a single action; but then again, it takes only the smallest shift in foundation to cause the catastrophic avalanche. If minuscule alterations can rouse Nature's fury, there is no reason why one action can't have outcomes that are disproportionately large in comparison.
That meeting was one in nearly a hundred meetings, but the peculiar way it deviated from norm had immediate consequences; the moment Jack threw Ralph off with something resembling a compliment, changes begin to appear in their relationship. It's evident that Ralph has begun to at least tolerate Jack's presence with a degree of friendliness. The blonde has stopped, to Simon's immense relief, taking aspirin every time he sees the redhead approaching. The small brunette isn't sure how much aspirin is too much, but it certainly can't be healthy swallowing pills every other hour. The adjustments are minuscule, but adjustments none the less that begin to shift the tense, business like relationship into one that vaguely resembles friendship. The most evident shift appears during the break times, where the two teens toss lines at each other in an attempt to memorize their own faster. This isn't an uncommon occurrence but previously, there was always a harsh edge to the atmosphere that made intruders exceedingly uncomfortable. The news that the iciness had thawed by a few degrees is received with no end of relief. Simon commented on this once to Ralph, but all he got was a blank look and a hand on his forehead testing for fever.
"You're batty Simon." The smaller teen rolls his eyes, hazel pupils betraying the slightest bit of frustration. Ralph is amiable on most topics, but talking about Jack always manages to bring out the worst stubbornness in him. The blonde refuses to acknowledge any improvement between them, simply pointing out that getting along with the singer made work more pleasant for everyone. It was, therefore, in his mind a convenience factor for all involved. Simon exhales slowly, arguing won't get him anywhere so he drops the topic and tells Ralph that he's been called out so the blonde's free to do as he pleases. Jack, for once, isn't around to drag him places so Ralph decides to look around the city a little bit on his own. His explorations lead him to a rather unique looking joint; it looks relatively quiet so he walks in. After ordering at the counter, Ralph sits next to the window, close to another teen who looks like a cook of some kind. The rotund boy gives him a questioning smile, which Ralph returns out of politeness; apparently, that was all that was needed for the boy to start talking Ralph's ear off.
The blonde shifts uncomfortably, wishing that his order would arrive sooner so that he would have a reason to escape the talkative teen. He'd learned more about this complete stranger-his name is Nathaniel Mitchell but people liked to call him Piggy for whatever reason- in past couple minutes than he'd learned about Simon over a year. Ralph's almost relieved when he hears the purr of twin motor engines and sees the familiar tall figures pass through the door and begin weaving gracefully around the matrix of tables and chairs towards him. Maybe Roger's terrifying aura, if nothing else, will make the other teen shut up.
Jack reaches him first as Roger had branched off to address another one of his phone calls, and upon noticing Ralph's companion, gives a strange smile. Ralph catches first the flash of recognition mixed with sadistic amusement in the blue depths of his eyes then the pupils flicker to him and they darken considerably; Piggy seems to have some history with the redhead because the moment he sees the blue eyes change color, he immediately excuses himself and escapes to the far end of the dining area before disappearing into what looked like the kitchen. Jack slides into the chair facing Ralph, still eying the place where the bespectacled teen had disappeared to.
"Are you friends with him?" Ralph stares at the question. For one, he couldn't see why Jack cared; for another, there's a barely detectable edge in the ginger's voice that sounds suspiciously like possessiveness. The blonde dismisses the latter, deciding that it was too unlikely to be plausible and answers in a dry tone.
"Yes, Jack, I like to be around people whose hobbies include talking me deaf. My favorite type of personality actually." Jack glares at his sarcasm, but relaxes minutely. The apprehensive feeling springs back into Ralph's stomach. Jack didn't have a reason to be possessive, right? The blonde male pulls out some pages of his script, needing something other than the icy blue eyes to focus on. Jack doesn't make any comment on this but Ralph can feel the singer's eyes watching him; after five minutes, Jack's long fingers suddenly appear, pushing down the top of the paper script. Ralph immediately looks up with a sharp protest.
"Don't you have better things to do other than bother me?"
Jack smirks, amusement lighting up his eyes, and pushes the script down further until it is laying flat on the table. He taps the page lightly and gives an elegant shrug, "You've been looking at the same page for a while," he suddenly leans in really close; Ralph can see a distorted reflection of himself in the pale pupils, "Am I distracting you?"
Does he have no regard at all for personal space? Ralph leans away from the redhead, feeling both blood rush to his cheeks and exasperation make its way onto his features.
"Yes, you are. And you're too close!" Jack snorts but backs away and gets up, spinning around to rejoin Roger, who had been standing there unnoticed by Ralph for a while now. The ginger accepts his drink from his manager and both disappear through the exit. There's the faint sound of twin motorcycles starting before the regular noise of the street swallows anything distinguishable up. Ralph sighs in relief, ironic since he had wanted Jack to appear just ten minutes ago, but the other male has an uncanny ability to put him on edge and Ralph doesn't need another headache. The media have begun to be rather interested in his relationship with the singer; apparently, five pictures of the two of them posted on the Internet have started rumors that picked up momentum and caused millions of curious eyes to become trained on any developments. The blonde rubs his temples; he's going to hope this doesn't go too far.
"He's too interested in you," Ralph starts at the unexpected voice at his shoulder. He turns to see a bespectacled stare regarding him with something akin to pity.
"Pardon?"
"I mean Jack. Jack Merridew. It's no good to become entangled with him." Piggy must have felt the confusion in Ralph's stare because he elaborates in an irritated voice, "You haven't noticed? Nothing good ever comes out of being with him, he'll drag you down and eat you alive, I tell you." He snorts in contempt, muttering under his breath, "Stole my glasses back when we were in the last year of university, the blasted arrogant fool. No taste in culinary arts either." He walks away, still mumbling. Ralph watches him go with some degree of apprehension, were none of the people involved or were involved with Jack normal?
This is where the definitive plot line ends and the vagueness begins. It's going to take longer now because I have to figure out how to make it flow and add the components in.
Reviews? :D They are rather encouraging.