Chapter 11: Girl Meets Incomplete Pt. 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or settings of Girl Meets World. I do, however, own the character of Remigius "Remy" Bellamy. I seek no profit from this act of fiction, merely recognition from the community of readers. Thanks to all who have followed and favorited this. I'm doing my best to keep putting out this story for you all. I promised you guys to try and keep things positive, but I have also written this as close to a real life story as I can...so we'll be dealing with a bit of teen grieving, but this is part one of a two part chapter that will explore the two things that are dwelling in Remy's heart: the lose of his mother and his feelings for Maya. Enjoy!
In the weeks that had passed since the group bid their farewells to Maribeth and were given the shocking news in her will, Cory and Topanga had finished the adoption papers for Remy rather quickly given the circumstances. With help from all their friends, the family had made a day of moving into the brownstone and settings up everyone's rooms. Remy had noticed the bay window in what would have been his room and took a step to the side, ushering Riley in and nodding his head. "It...suits you." was all he mustered as he went back to moving boxes about. By days end, the rooms were organized and everyone was unpacking their essentials.
That was nearly a month ago, and now Remy sat in his room with Lucinda propped upon his knee and his eyes shut tight as he strummed slowly. "Damn it." He whispered as his pick slipped and strummed a sour note. The walls were still bare, his closet door a jar and his band tees and jackets visible on their hangers. A single lamp stood in the corner to illuminate the room as well as the ceiling fan and light that hung above his bed. His nightstand was bare as well, the picture of his mother tucked inside the drawer...looking at it was too hard at the moment. Lucinda's case and his backpack occupied the corner opposite his lamp, next to the desk where he would do his homework. Papers were strewn about the mahogany surface, various graded assignments that he just hadn't had the time or desire to file. The room was his, but no one would know just by looking. It was still hard to him to call it home, to make it his...to step away from the hospital. The irony of how much an actual home felt like a strange land and yet the hospital he once deemed a prison held such familiarity was not lost on the young musician as he picked up the pick off the floor and sighed.
"What am I supposed to do now...now that you're gone? It's like I'm on a winding road and have lost my compass. I'm in the dark and my lantern is out of oil. Every time I wake up, my foolish heart expects to go see you...then reality sets in and I remember that you're gone. I don't know what to do anymore Momma...I feel hollowed out. Broken. Like the soul singer has lost his soul. I'm not finished...I'm not whole. I'm still fighting...but I feel defeat. I'm not finished...I'm incomplete…" He said as he strummed nonsense on the guitar. Tears ran down his cheeks as he played the melancholy notes. He was lost in his grief and his playing to the point he hadn't noticed his door open just slightly. Through the tiny crack, curly, auburn locks could be seen looking in. As Remy finally looked up and saw them, he cleared his throat so he could speak.
"You can come in Aug. I'm just...I don't even know what I'm doing to be honest." He said as he laid the guitar down onto his lap and sighed.
"It looks like you were crying. And playing your guitar. You've been doing a lot of that lately. I know you know we're all here...but maybe since I'm actually right here, right now...you wanna talk about it?" The young boy said as he moved toward Remy's bed. Taking a seat next to him, Auggie cracked a small smile and patted his shoulder. "I don't know what you're going through...but I want to help."
"Honestly...I don't know if anyone can help Auggie. I just feel like a part of me has been destroyed. A better part of me. My mother was more than just a parent, which is already a huge role in someone's life...she was my best friend. She was my shoulder to cry on and my listening ears. At the end, she was so much of why I was strong. I was stronger because I knew she couldn't be. Without that...I feel weak. I'm lost Aug, and I don't know if or when I'll really be found." He lamented to the young boy as he stood and carried Lucinda over to her case. As he lifted the lid and was preparing to put the instrument away, he saw August's hand push on the back of it and push it toward his chest.
"Don't put it away yet. I don't know much about these things, or even really about you...but if I know one thing it is that you have a song for everything. So, if you don't have a song for this...make one. As for being lost...we'll always find you. Remy...I'm really sorry you lost both your parents. I'm sorry you lost your immediate family...but you aren't lost. You live here with me and Riley and Mom and Dad. You've got Lucas and Farkle who look at you like a brother. Smackle looks up to you for being able to so openly be yourself. Zay promised to look out for you. You've got Katy and Shawn who care about you too...and of course there's Maya." Auggie said as he handed his new brother a pick out from amongst the piles of papers on his desk. "So, you lost a part of you and you can't get it back...but maybe you can build something different. You're not beyond repair, brother. You're not finished. It's like when you leave a question blank on a test...you can't go forward, because it's incomplete." He said with a smile as he grabbed the handle and pulled the door shut behind him, exiting the room and heading down the hall.
"I feel so much more than just missing an answer on a test...I feel like a puzzle with only the edge pieces. Like a chorus without a verse. A play without a second act…" Remy said to the air as he flopped on the bed with a thud. "Incomplete…" He sighed as he looked over at Lucinda. His eyes were heavy, a mixture of exhaustion, depression, anger, and confusion all swirling about to create a cocktail that would knock him out well into the morning hours. When he awoke to the sound of his alarm going off, a loud groan escaped his lips as he forced himself up and over to his closet. He grabbed randomly, not much caring which of his various tees and jeans he wore that day. In that moment, he didn't care about anything, honestly. The future was so uncertain, and everything seemed so...futile. As he pulled out the shirt and saw what he held, a small smile cracked the corners of his lips.
Fleetwood Mac. One of his mother's favorites.
"Well, I've been afraid of changing. 'Cause I've built my life around you. But time made you bolder. Even children get older. And I'm getting older too..well I'm getting older..too." He mumbled walked toward the bathroom and to shower. He realized, as he walked that the brownstone was eerily quiet. No Riley laughter, no Mr. or Mrs. Matthews lovey-dovey banter. It was all...still. He decided his shower could wait just a minute or two as he descended the staircase toward the kitchen and living room...and there she sat. Maribeth. No machines hooked up to her, her hair was pulled back in a clip, her eyes were shining.
"This...this can't be real…" He said as he walked toward her. His eyes filled with tears almost immediately.
"Oh, son, you're not wrong...but you're not exactly right either. I promised you a long time ago that I would always be there when you needed me most, and if I know anything, it's that you need me now. You need someone to help you understand what it is is going on inside your head and, more importantly, inside your heart right now." She said as she stood.
"This is a dream, of sorts. I'm here though because what August said is true, my sweet boy. You're incomplete. You built so much of who you were around being 'Remy Bellamy, Maribeth's son.' that you never let yourself really be...you. You feel lost because you think I'm not here. I'm always here. I'm in the songs you sing. I'm in your friends. I'm in the birds that chirp and the breezes that blow and I'm in the actions you take. You are so smart...so damn smart...and so kind. You are the best thing I ever did in my life boy...but my time has come and gone. I've had my fair share of stories...now you have to go out and write your own. I'm honored to have been in so many chapters, and I pray you'll never forget the role I once played...but now it's time for the focus to shift to you, and those around you, and the life that goes on after mine. Remigius...your papa and I couldn't be proud of you...don't stay incomplete. Go on and find who you are. You have people in your life who will help you. And remember what I told you boy. Don't be afraid to tell people how you feel son. Being open won't always get you hurt. To add on to it, given your current dilemma...being incomplete isn't always a bad thing. Remember, your story has began, but the rest is-"
"Still unwritten. Yeah, thanks Natasha Bedingfield." He said, chuckling slightly...for the first time in a month. Too bad it was a dream.
"She wasn't wrong." Maribeth said, reaching out and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her son's ear.
"Please...don't go…" He said softly, pleading though he knew it was pointless.
"Remy, don't be silly. I'm always going to be right where you need me." She tapped his heart three times as he felt himself actually waking up. "I love you son…" He heard as his eyes opened and he looked up at the ceiling of his room. As he sat up, he realized he had been moved up from where he passed out, and the tension of the sheet that covered his body told him he had been tucked in as well. His glasses had been put on his nightstand, which he picked up and slowly put on as he noticed a note beneath them.
"We all care. We love you." The handwriting was feminine, but not the familiar style of Riley's.
As he went through the steps of the first part of his dream, this time the bustle of movement could be heard downstairs. "It's real life…" He mumbled as he entered the bathroom and turned the hot water on. As the steam filled the room, words filled his head...and melody. It was nothing he had heard before, but it was...fulfilling, in a way. It was new, yet it seemed to be exactly what he needed. He couldn't place why or how, but it felt good to have his thoughts finally making sense.
After getting dried and dressed, he descended the staircase with Lucinda's case in one hand his backpack slung over one shoulder. He set them down by the door and joined The Matthews at the breakfast table. "Morning everybody." He said softly as he sat behind a plate of hashbrowns, bacon, and eggs. He took a fork to the shredded potatoes and slowly began to eat.
"Morning Remy." Auggie said with a smile.
"Good morning." Riley chimed in through a mouthful of eggs.
Cory nodded as he had a mouth full of spuds but smiled all the same.
"Good morning, Remy." Topanga said as she brought him a glass of orange juice. "Sleep well?"
"Well enough…" He said, keeping his dream to himself. "Did you...happen to put me right side up in bed and leave me a note?" He said as he took a bite of bacon.
"Yes...I hope I didn't overstep my bounds." She said with a smile.
"Not at all. I really appreciate it." He said after swallowing what he had bitten.
"I know we're not your parents, or your real siblings, or blood family...but we do love you Remy. I know I'll never replace your mother and I would never want to, but I hope you know how much we do care, and not just some legal paper telling me that you are makes me feel like you're my son and my responsibility." Topanga said as she finished her plate of food and grabbed her briefcase. "But, I'm off to work. Goodbye family!" She said as she darted out the door.
Family...ain't that somethin'... Remy thought as she walked out but Maya, Lucas, Farkle, and Smackle all walked in.
"Come on losers, we're gonna be late." Maya said as she ushered Riley and Remy toward the door.
"See you on campus Mr. Matthews.' Lucas and Farkle said in unison before looking at each other with cocked eyebrows.
"See you all there." He said quickly before shoveling in more hashbrowns. "Mmmmummm...good hash browns…" He said between chews.
As the group walked toward their new subway stop, many signs of normality occurred. Riley took Lucas's hand and began swinging their arms back and forth, a smile beaming across her lips. Farkle and Maya pretended to argue about nothing of consequence. The people on the street moved around the group of teens, all on their own ways to work or school or any other factor of life...but the one thing out of place was Remy. The young musician trailed behind his friends a good distance. His mind was buzzing with notes and riffs. Possibilities is all he could imagine them being.
As they arrived at campus, he broke away from the group and headed toward the music rooms of the school, taking out Lucinda as he sat down in the empty band room. He strummed slowly the notes the flooded his mind. He couldn't place how or why, but it all suddenly came to him. In a way, he was thankful...it was comforting in its own way. The sounds reverberated within the emptiness of the room much as they did in his mind and his heart.
"Interesting tune there, Bellamy." came a baritone voice from a corner of the room. The lights flickered on as he reached out and flipped the switch on the wall next to him, illuminating the figure of Mr. Gibson. The head of the music department walked over the young man and placed a firm hand on his shoulder before speaking again. "Sounds a little...questioning though. Got any words to accompany it?" He asked as the young man tilted his head to look up at him.
"Nothing I've put to paper…" He answered, sighing. "It's probably stupid anyhow…"
"Anything you have felt so compelled to make a melody and think of lyrics to can't possibly stupid, Remy. It's a powerful thing, music is. It can be cathartic. It can help as actualize things we couldn't simply say. It can bring to light things we thought were always going to be hidden. I say you put those words to paper, and you play them in class today...if you're up to it." Mr. Gibson said as he walked over and turned on the other set of lights in the class and opened the door. "I'll see you in a few hours...and we'll hear what your decision is then."
The hours passed and Remy jotted down words hastily in between his others classes. The group was concerned and tried to question him, but he simply replied with "not now." whenever they asked. When the bell finally rang to usher everyone in from lunch and on to their next class, Maya cornered the young musician between the hall and his music room.
"No more not now. I don't want to late till later. What if there is no later? Remy...kook, I just need to know...are you okay?" She said, clasping a hand over his knuckles the held the handle for Lucinda's case.
"...I will be." He said, a startling grit in his voice as he leaned in and kissed her cheek softly before pulling away and walking around her into the classroom.
"You make your decision?" Mr. Gibson said as he saw the young man slowly pull out the mahogany guitar and begin tuning it.
"Only way to know if something is right or wrong...put it out into the universe...I guess." He said solemnly as he waited for class to start.
As the bell rang, Gibson cleared his throat and looked out at this young pupils. "Alright everyone, as we all know, we took Monday made it fun by making it Music Monday. Any of you guys who either learned a new song or even wrote one have a chance to play it out and see how you do. It just so happens, Remy has something special for us all."
"Oh hey, that's awesome! Did you learn another Beatles classic?" One of the young boys in the back of class asked.
"Or maybe something old school and closer to home, a little Buddy Guy?" came another voice from crowd.
Remy sat his chair at the front of class and put a couple sheets of paper up on the music stand. Scrawled and scribbled lyrics scattered across the pages, but he knew what he meant to sing.
"Actually...it's an original piece…" He said as he cleared his throat and strummed a couple chords.
"I looked up to the sky, The stars had all burnt out. And who I thought I was, is so clouded up by doubt. And as I sing these words, my heart just skips a beat. I watched this all unfold, but your story's incomplete." He sang, the style of his words sounding like a melancholy blend of classic country singers like George Jones, Waylon Jennings, and Tennessee Ernie Ford.
"Why was it you, when it could've been me? Why'd ya leave me on my own, to drown in this sea? Words were left unsaid, things left to unfold, but now that you're gone, the tales all go untold. I will fight the good fight, but I fear I face defeat, Because now that you're gone, the world is incomplete." The first chorus finished and the room sat in solemn awe as the young man continued strumming along, though tears filled his eyes and made reading the chicken scratched words on the papers that much harder...it didn't matter much. These words had been swirling in his head all morning and in his heart for over a month.
"Shattered pieces of the past, drift off on the breeze. And in the shards I see, our best memories. They play in my mind, like a movie on repeat. But scenes are out of order, our story's incomplete." His fingers fumbled for a moment, but he didn't stop playing. Not a soul said a word...perhaps out of respect, or perhaps out of sheer admiration. Some of the students had shut their eyes, truly living in the song. Taking in the meaning. A few had shed tears as their own memories played in their minds. A few of the girls in the class cupped their hands and leaned forward to get a better listen to the sad, soulful melody.
"Why was it you, when it could've been me? Why'd ya leave me on my own, to drown in misery? Words were left unsaid, things left to unfold, but now that you're gone, the tales all go untold. I will fight the good fight, but I fear I face defeat, Because now that you're gone, the world is incomplete." As the second chorus ended, Remy played immediately into a powerful, heart wrenching bridge.
"Who am I meant to be? Will I still make ya proud? The future's so uncertain, doubt hangs there like a cloud. I can see the light, but to the darkness I retreat. No one should ever see me, while I'm so incomplete." As the bayou born balladeer crooned out the bridge, he gave Lucinda a small solo before singing the last refrain of the song.
"Why was it you, when it could've been me? Why'd ya leave me on my own? Did you think that I'd be free? Words were left unsaid. Things left to unfold. But now that you're gone. Your tale must be told. I'll always fight the good fight, though I fear I'll face defeat. Because now that you're gone, the world is incomplete"
"Who will I become? Will I win or face defeat? Will I ever become whole, or remain...incomplete? Will I ever become whole...or am I just...incompl…"
As he strummed the final note of the song and reached up to wipe the tears from his eyes, the room erupted into a round of applause after a moment of awe struck silence.
"That was...amazing, Mr. Bellamy." Mr. Gibson said as he patted the young man on the shoulder. "Not stupid in the least bit...and a song that can speak to many people on many different levels. I know the wound is fresh, and it will take a lot of time to heal...and I know I never met her, but your mother would be proud of you for expressing yourself in your art. Your passion was apparent...and your hurt was something we could all finally feel instead of merely watching from the outside. It was a small window into the pained soul of an artist. Thank you. Thank you very much."
"Yo...You're welcome…" He stammered out as he packed Lucinda back into her case and stood. "May I be excused for a minute, please?"
"Take all the time you need." Gibson said, watching the young musician leave the room and make a beeline for the school restrooms.
Cold, rushing water filled the small, metal basin of one of the sinks as Remy splashed the refreshing liquid upward and felt it run down his searing hot flesh. His cheeks were red, his eyes stung, and he was breathing rapid and shallow. Performance anxiety was never something he dealt with before...but this certainly seemed like something much more.
"It's tough...lettin' that many people in when you've closed yourself off for so long, huh son?" Came the familiar voice of his mother as he looked up in the mirror. There she was...her visage anyhow. Smiling, it was almost like he could feel her holding him. "It's okay, boy. You did good. You did better than good. But, think about this...what's so wrong with being incomplete? Once something is complete...it's over. It's got nothing else to say or do or think or feel. It's the end. The back cover. The final note. The last line of the last act. Incomplete leaves such a world of possibilities. What's wrong with being incomplete? My story is complete, Remigius...but your's has a long way to go. Embrace being incomplete. Learn how to be incomplete...learn with the others who are incomplete. Live your story son. Be incomplete."
"But...how...why?" He mumbled as her visage faded again. Questions he would have to answer on his own...or would he?
As he walked out of the bathroom, his face as dry as the paper towels could get it, he slid back into class. The remainder of the period went on as was expected of Monday, other students playing songs they had looked up over the weekend and hastily learned. Some made him crack a small smile, but for the most part he was emotionally drained from his own performance. As the bell rang and class let out, he walked slowly through the halls to his next and final class, and at days end, he stood at the stairs of the school and sighed deeply.
As Riley walked up and put her arm over his shoulder playfully with a smile, he gave her a half hearted, one armed hug. "Hello, big brother." She said as she poked his ribs.
"Gaaah...hello...sister." He said, the word feeling weird in his mouth. They group always felt like family...but for it to be an official thing was going to take a lot of getting used to. Perhaps it was that he never had sibling, or perhaps it was that he had grown so used to being independent, or even just that he always thought once Maribeth did pass he would be alone. He couldn't say truly why, but he knew it just felt odd. Not bad...just odd.
As he saw Maya walking through the crowd, quickly, in a beeline toward him, he cracked a small smile. "Riles...do you mind telling Mr. Matthews I'll be home later tonight? There's just...there's something I've got to do." He said as she shrugged off her arm and walked toward Maya.
As if the other students faded into nothingness, the two teens moved toward one another like lightning to metal, like a river to the sea, like two magnets drawing on the others polarity. In moments, his arms wrapped around her midsection and lifted her up, her arms wrapping around his neck.
"Remy?" Maya said in shock, his sudden embrace happily accepted but greatly unexpected.
"You and I...we need to talk." He whispered in her ear as he lifted her off the ground.
End of Ch.11 Author's Note: The song "Incomplete" is an original piece that I wrote specifically for this story, but also partly because the two year anniversary of my mother passing was yesterday [August 18th, 2016]. Not much of an end note right now, as this is part 1. Look forward to part 2 sometime this week.
