Author's note: I got the strange feeling people thought that this story was
over. Well, sorry to disappoint you but there's more here and more on the
way.
*1998*
"Maybe we should tone it down a bit," Richie panted, "I'm getting too old for this." He sprawled himself on the stage. "A had been at 23, welcome to the music world," he laughed.
"I love you, Richie!" a fan's scream sounded over the dull murmur of the crowd.
"Right back at ya, babe." The girls screamed excitedly. Richie laughed. "I will never get tired of that. I wish it had been like that in high school." He rolled onto his stomach and scanned the first few rows of the audience. "Wait a minute, I know you," he pointed out a red-haired girl in the front row. "Weren't you in Dallas last night?" The girl started crying and nodded. "So you came again?" She nodded. "Come here, I want to talk to you. Somebody get her up here." With the help of a security guard the girl made her way onto the stage. Richie pushed himself into a sitting position and motioned her down next to him. "I'm to dead to stand," he explained. "So, hi. I'm Richie," he said pleasantly shaking her hand. She started sobbing. "Wow, um, okay. So this is where you tell me your name." He shoved the microphone under her nose.
"Laney," she choked out.
"So, Laney, where you from?"
"Fort Worth."
"Is that around Dallas?" Richie asked happily carrying on the conversation almost oblivious to the crowd not twenty feet away.
"Yes."
"Then maybe I should explain the water falling from the sky. Its called rain. And it's perfectly safe." She laughed. "So did you win a radio contest?" She nodded again. "How old are you?"
"15"
"15 treated me pretty well," he commented. "What's your favorite song?"
"You Don't See Me."
"Aren't you a little young to like the old songs?" he did some quick mental math. "Oh, well I guess 12 isn't too young. Stay right there." His energy apparently back, he jumped up and jogged up stage, grabbed his guitar, and sent a back-up singer to get a marker. He returned to Laney and sat back down. "Here, you hold this," he handed her the microphone. "I need both hands. I'm going the acoustic route," he added looking at his bad. "So you guys can just chill for a minute."
Duncan smiled from the wings; this was one song of Richie's he would never forget.
* September 3, 1993: the Antique Store*
Richie had been acting strangely for almost a month. He had become very eager to help, he took over the kitchen and made dinner nearly every night, and did whatever was asked of him without a single complaint. Out of nowhere he had become very compliant. For the first couple of weeks Duncan brushed it off as maturity, but when Richie stopped following Duncan when he went to face other immortals, Duncan knew something was wrong. So he kept a watchful eye on Richie. And soon discovered the problem.
"So do you think it's a good idea?" Duncan asked Tessa softly.
"I think we should tell Richie now, he seems to be on to us." She answered sternly.
"What do you mean?"
"Ever since you started hinting about moving, he's been acting funny. Like he has to prove his worth to us."
"He has not." Duncan insisted. Richie stuck his head in the office door.
"How does manicotti sound for dinner?"
"Sounds great." Duncan said. Richie smiled and headed for the kitchen. "See? He's just being nice."
"He has always been nice. But, how often did he cook before?"
Duncan frowned, "Fine, I'll go talk to him." Duncan found Richie in the kitchen boiling water and talking to Rylan.
"Angie too?" he was asking. "Man, that sucks. What is she going to do?"
"She's moving in with Gary until she can find her own place."
"What's wrong with Angie?" Duncan asked.
"Her mom kicked her out," Rylan explained.
"Said she was too old," Richie added.
"How old is she?"
"Just a couple weeks older than me. She turned nineteen last Friday. And then her mom just said, 'Move on, kid'."
"You can take care of yourself at nineteen," Duncan said casualy. Richie's face paled.
"Not really," Rylan contradicted. "Who takes a nineteen year old seriously?"
"A lot of people. I'm willing to bet Richie could take care of himself if he needed to. Not that he wil- -" He trailed off as Richie mumbled something and brushed past him. "What'd I do?" he asked Rylan.
"Good one, Duncan," she rolled her eyes.
"What? What just happened here? Why is he so- - -"
"Duncan, think about it."
. . . . . .
Richie heard Duncan give the doorhandle a tentative turn to check if it was locked. But, Richie had been in too much of a hurry to get away to stop and turn the lock, so Duncan entered the bedroom and found Richie sitting cross-legged on his bed with his back to the door.
"Hey, Rich." Duncan greeted lightly stepping into the room.
"What?" he snapped, turning his head to make sure Duncan couldn't see his face.
"What got you so up- - -are you crying?"
"No." Richie answered thickly wiping angrily at his cheeks. "There's just something in my. . ." he sighed. "Maybe a little." He dropped his hand back into his lap but kept his face turned.
"You want to talk about it?" Duncan asked not quite sure what to do, he had never seen Richie cry before.
"It's nothing, it's stupid, just forget about it," he mumbled feeling as uncomfortable as Duncan did.
"If it's nothing, how can it be stupid?"
"Mac, just leave me alone," Richie said looking up at him with watery, pitiful, pleading eyes.
"You don't look like you want to be alone," he said softly sitting on the bed.
Richie remained silent and continued to look at him, but didn't move to get away. Duncan looked at the wall and waited. He knew from experience that if he waited long enough Richie would start talking, just to end the silence.
"Ever since I was thirteen, I've never lived in the same place for over a year." He started so quietly Duncan almost didn't notice. "By that time, people had either gotten sick of me, or found another kid. Sometimes I'd come back from school and my bags would be packed. It was always a nice subtle way of saying 'Move on, kid'." Richie stopped and looked at Duncan trying to read his face, then continued. "You see, I gave up on trying to be charming and cute when I was eleven. Because by then there was always somebody cuter and younger there to take my place. I kept telling myself 'Just wait until you're eighteen, then it's all you'." He took a deep breath. "So I never got attached. I was just kinda there. I don't even remember most of their names." He stopped and traced the design on his bedspread, waiting for Duncan to respond. But Duncan didn't say anything, so he took it as a sign that he should continue.
"I guess that's when Rylan and I became so attached. Or when I really started relying on her to be there. I could always be myself around her. I didn't have to worry about making a good impression or anything. Then you guys came along. And there was something different." Tears began falling more persistently down his cheeks. "It's like there was this weird connection, drawing me here. Telling me to stick around. I didn't want it, I didn't want to get attached to anyone, I didn't want to feel anykind of bond, but it was there. Eventually I gave up on fighting it. I let myself get drawn in, get comfortable, drop the act." He stopped again and waited a few seconds before continuing.
"Then Rylan came along. Don't get me wrong, I was just as excited as she was when you guys asked her to stay. But now," his voice cracked, "now my year's almost up. And I can't keep myself from making her that younger, cuter someone. And I keep seeing Tessa's face when the judge granted custody. And I keep expecting. . . but. . ." He sniffled a couple times and sighed. "I've always been a firm believer that if it's too good to be true, it is. And. . .and you guys are the greatest thing that ever happened to me." He finished softly looking away.
"You were expecting us to kick you out, like Angie's mom?" Duncan blurted finally making the connection.
"It's not like there's some kind of legal document saying I have to stay. And you keep talking about how crowded it is. . ."
"You're right, you don't have to stay. But you did for awhile. . . there were papers. You're just too old now."
Richie turned to face Duncan. "What?"
"You were still seventeen when you moved in," he explained. "It was only for a couple of weeks, but it had to be legal. I never told you because you didn't seem like you would be very happy about it. If I had known it was important to you I would have said something. That's part of why Tessa wanted to sign for Rylan. She wanted to be able to take you two and leave if things got out of hand. . .and I was the one who got you." This time Duncan waited for Richie to say something, then continued.
"And you're not exactly the bane of my existence, you know. Sure, I get mad at you and we fight. But it's because I don't want anything to happen to you. I just want to keep you safe." He took a deep breath. "Immortals can't have children. I think that's the biggest thing Tessa had to give up to be with me. I didn't realize how much I missed my father until I started getting questions on what to do with you. . .I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't know much about teenage boys." Richie smiled. "I miss that father/son connection, I haven't had it for over three hundred years. But sometimes, at the strangest times, I feel like I almost have that with you. I'm not going to push it, because I don't know how you feel. And I can't speak for Tessa, but she's never said 'no' when someone asked if you were her son."
Richie looked away, then looked back with a confused expression. "People actually ask that?"
"Yeah, every now and again." Duncan answered. "So is that why you were acting so strangely?"
"You just lost me."
"You were acting weird because you were expecting 'Move on, kid'?"
"Guess so," Richie shrugged. "But it sounds pretty stupid now."
"So what are we going to do about dinner?" Duncan asked changing the subject to something they were both more comfortable with.
"You figure it out. I need a minute."
Richie didn't come out of his room for the rest of the night. He would talk to whoever came in, but he would always go back to his guitar. What came out was one of the most heart-felt songs he ever wrote.
*1998*
"Okay, it's been a while, but I'll give this a shot." Richie mumbled and began to play the intro to the song. Before he started to sing he locked eyes with Duncan and gave him a grin. Duncan smiled back.
"This is the place where I sit
This is the part where I love you too much
This is as hard as it gets
'Cause I'm getting tired of pretending I'm tough
I'm here if you want me
I'm yours you can hold me
I'm empty and achin' and tumblin' and breakin'
'Cause you don't see me
And you don't need me
And you don't love me
The way I wish you would. . ."
. . . . . .
Disclaimers: "You Don't See Me" is from Josie and the Pussycats. I couldn't help it, I heard the song and it made me cry and I had to use it. This isn't the entire song (obviously) but I plan on using the rest of it later on in the story.
*1998*
"Maybe we should tone it down a bit," Richie panted, "I'm getting too old for this." He sprawled himself on the stage. "A had been at 23, welcome to the music world," he laughed.
"I love you, Richie!" a fan's scream sounded over the dull murmur of the crowd.
"Right back at ya, babe." The girls screamed excitedly. Richie laughed. "I will never get tired of that. I wish it had been like that in high school." He rolled onto his stomach and scanned the first few rows of the audience. "Wait a minute, I know you," he pointed out a red-haired girl in the front row. "Weren't you in Dallas last night?" The girl started crying and nodded. "So you came again?" She nodded. "Come here, I want to talk to you. Somebody get her up here." With the help of a security guard the girl made her way onto the stage. Richie pushed himself into a sitting position and motioned her down next to him. "I'm to dead to stand," he explained. "So, hi. I'm Richie," he said pleasantly shaking her hand. She started sobbing. "Wow, um, okay. So this is where you tell me your name." He shoved the microphone under her nose.
"Laney," she choked out.
"So, Laney, where you from?"
"Fort Worth."
"Is that around Dallas?" Richie asked happily carrying on the conversation almost oblivious to the crowd not twenty feet away.
"Yes."
"Then maybe I should explain the water falling from the sky. Its called rain. And it's perfectly safe." She laughed. "So did you win a radio contest?" She nodded again. "How old are you?"
"15"
"15 treated me pretty well," he commented. "What's your favorite song?"
"You Don't See Me."
"Aren't you a little young to like the old songs?" he did some quick mental math. "Oh, well I guess 12 isn't too young. Stay right there." His energy apparently back, he jumped up and jogged up stage, grabbed his guitar, and sent a back-up singer to get a marker. He returned to Laney and sat back down. "Here, you hold this," he handed her the microphone. "I need both hands. I'm going the acoustic route," he added looking at his bad. "So you guys can just chill for a minute."
Duncan smiled from the wings; this was one song of Richie's he would never forget.
* September 3, 1993: the Antique Store*
Richie had been acting strangely for almost a month. He had become very eager to help, he took over the kitchen and made dinner nearly every night, and did whatever was asked of him without a single complaint. Out of nowhere he had become very compliant. For the first couple of weeks Duncan brushed it off as maturity, but when Richie stopped following Duncan when he went to face other immortals, Duncan knew something was wrong. So he kept a watchful eye on Richie. And soon discovered the problem.
"So do you think it's a good idea?" Duncan asked Tessa softly.
"I think we should tell Richie now, he seems to be on to us." She answered sternly.
"What do you mean?"
"Ever since you started hinting about moving, he's been acting funny. Like he has to prove his worth to us."
"He has not." Duncan insisted. Richie stuck his head in the office door.
"How does manicotti sound for dinner?"
"Sounds great." Duncan said. Richie smiled and headed for the kitchen. "See? He's just being nice."
"He has always been nice. But, how often did he cook before?"
Duncan frowned, "Fine, I'll go talk to him." Duncan found Richie in the kitchen boiling water and talking to Rylan.
"Angie too?" he was asking. "Man, that sucks. What is she going to do?"
"She's moving in with Gary until she can find her own place."
"What's wrong with Angie?" Duncan asked.
"Her mom kicked her out," Rylan explained.
"Said she was too old," Richie added.
"How old is she?"
"Just a couple weeks older than me. She turned nineteen last Friday. And then her mom just said, 'Move on, kid'."
"You can take care of yourself at nineteen," Duncan said casualy. Richie's face paled.
"Not really," Rylan contradicted. "Who takes a nineteen year old seriously?"
"A lot of people. I'm willing to bet Richie could take care of himself if he needed to. Not that he wil- -" He trailed off as Richie mumbled something and brushed past him. "What'd I do?" he asked Rylan.
"Good one, Duncan," she rolled her eyes.
"What? What just happened here? Why is he so- - -"
"Duncan, think about it."
. . . . . .
Richie heard Duncan give the doorhandle a tentative turn to check if it was locked. But, Richie had been in too much of a hurry to get away to stop and turn the lock, so Duncan entered the bedroom and found Richie sitting cross-legged on his bed with his back to the door.
"Hey, Rich." Duncan greeted lightly stepping into the room.
"What?" he snapped, turning his head to make sure Duncan couldn't see his face.
"What got you so up- - -are you crying?"
"No." Richie answered thickly wiping angrily at his cheeks. "There's just something in my. . ." he sighed. "Maybe a little." He dropped his hand back into his lap but kept his face turned.
"You want to talk about it?" Duncan asked not quite sure what to do, he had never seen Richie cry before.
"It's nothing, it's stupid, just forget about it," he mumbled feeling as uncomfortable as Duncan did.
"If it's nothing, how can it be stupid?"
"Mac, just leave me alone," Richie said looking up at him with watery, pitiful, pleading eyes.
"You don't look like you want to be alone," he said softly sitting on the bed.
Richie remained silent and continued to look at him, but didn't move to get away. Duncan looked at the wall and waited. He knew from experience that if he waited long enough Richie would start talking, just to end the silence.
"Ever since I was thirteen, I've never lived in the same place for over a year." He started so quietly Duncan almost didn't notice. "By that time, people had either gotten sick of me, or found another kid. Sometimes I'd come back from school and my bags would be packed. It was always a nice subtle way of saying 'Move on, kid'." Richie stopped and looked at Duncan trying to read his face, then continued. "You see, I gave up on trying to be charming and cute when I was eleven. Because by then there was always somebody cuter and younger there to take my place. I kept telling myself 'Just wait until you're eighteen, then it's all you'." He took a deep breath. "So I never got attached. I was just kinda there. I don't even remember most of their names." He stopped and traced the design on his bedspread, waiting for Duncan to respond. But Duncan didn't say anything, so he took it as a sign that he should continue.
"I guess that's when Rylan and I became so attached. Or when I really started relying on her to be there. I could always be myself around her. I didn't have to worry about making a good impression or anything. Then you guys came along. And there was something different." Tears began falling more persistently down his cheeks. "It's like there was this weird connection, drawing me here. Telling me to stick around. I didn't want it, I didn't want to get attached to anyone, I didn't want to feel anykind of bond, but it was there. Eventually I gave up on fighting it. I let myself get drawn in, get comfortable, drop the act." He stopped again and waited a few seconds before continuing.
"Then Rylan came along. Don't get me wrong, I was just as excited as she was when you guys asked her to stay. But now," his voice cracked, "now my year's almost up. And I can't keep myself from making her that younger, cuter someone. And I keep seeing Tessa's face when the judge granted custody. And I keep expecting. . . but. . ." He sniffled a couple times and sighed. "I've always been a firm believer that if it's too good to be true, it is. And. . .and you guys are the greatest thing that ever happened to me." He finished softly looking away.
"You were expecting us to kick you out, like Angie's mom?" Duncan blurted finally making the connection.
"It's not like there's some kind of legal document saying I have to stay. And you keep talking about how crowded it is. . ."
"You're right, you don't have to stay. But you did for awhile. . . there were papers. You're just too old now."
Richie turned to face Duncan. "What?"
"You were still seventeen when you moved in," he explained. "It was only for a couple of weeks, but it had to be legal. I never told you because you didn't seem like you would be very happy about it. If I had known it was important to you I would have said something. That's part of why Tessa wanted to sign for Rylan. She wanted to be able to take you two and leave if things got out of hand. . .and I was the one who got you." This time Duncan waited for Richie to say something, then continued.
"And you're not exactly the bane of my existence, you know. Sure, I get mad at you and we fight. But it's because I don't want anything to happen to you. I just want to keep you safe." He took a deep breath. "Immortals can't have children. I think that's the biggest thing Tessa had to give up to be with me. I didn't realize how much I missed my father until I started getting questions on what to do with you. . .I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't know much about teenage boys." Richie smiled. "I miss that father/son connection, I haven't had it for over three hundred years. But sometimes, at the strangest times, I feel like I almost have that with you. I'm not going to push it, because I don't know how you feel. And I can't speak for Tessa, but she's never said 'no' when someone asked if you were her son."
Richie looked away, then looked back with a confused expression. "People actually ask that?"
"Yeah, every now and again." Duncan answered. "So is that why you were acting so strangely?"
"You just lost me."
"You were acting weird because you were expecting 'Move on, kid'?"
"Guess so," Richie shrugged. "But it sounds pretty stupid now."
"So what are we going to do about dinner?" Duncan asked changing the subject to something they were both more comfortable with.
"You figure it out. I need a minute."
Richie didn't come out of his room for the rest of the night. He would talk to whoever came in, but he would always go back to his guitar. What came out was one of the most heart-felt songs he ever wrote.
*1998*
"Okay, it's been a while, but I'll give this a shot." Richie mumbled and began to play the intro to the song. Before he started to sing he locked eyes with Duncan and gave him a grin. Duncan smiled back.
"This is the place where I sit
This is the part where I love you too much
This is as hard as it gets
'Cause I'm getting tired of pretending I'm tough
I'm here if you want me
I'm yours you can hold me
I'm empty and achin' and tumblin' and breakin'
'Cause you don't see me
And you don't need me
And you don't love me
The way I wish you would. . ."
. . . . . .
Disclaimers: "You Don't See Me" is from Josie and the Pussycats. I couldn't help it, I heard the song and it made me cry and I had to use it. This isn't the entire song (obviously) but I plan on using the rest of it later on in the story.
