AN: I'm SO sorry about the delay in this... writer's block is SATAN!!!!!! *sob* ... but I've finally overcome it, and produced this sub-par chapter. I'm sorry. You guys don't deserve to be forced to endure this. It's really quite terrible... but please don't hate me. You can leave me a bzillion reviews telling me that you'd like to kill me for writing such terrible drivel, because I probably deserve it, but don't hate me, okay?? :)
*insert standard disclaimer here* [+ Dreamer belongs to Dreamer, tous le monde.]
Wahoo for reviewers!!
Rhapsody - *runs to pick you up, but ends up tripping over you and falling flat on her face* aw damn... lol WAHOO! It's my favourite reviewer! Welcome back, me dearie, and thanks SO much for the review! ... now that I've updated this, I can say - UPDATE YOUR STORY DAMMIT!!! Heh... I like being able to do that *grin* Je t'aime, mon amie!
Dreamer - thanks for attacking my writer's block. It took a while to come in to effect, but HAH! It did! ... I wrote 7 pages today!!!!!!!! ... 'course, they were 7 *crappy* pages, but STILL! It's fantastique. Thanks for the review, kiddo!!!
Shorty Carter - duuuuuuuude, brownies! You're wunderfful and a half! Thanks for the review and the baked goods!! :)
Raven's Wing - wahoo! I *love* your reviews 'cause they're helpful. You were right about the needing to write thing...and you were also right about the not liking what you write part. Aw damn. Oh well. I'll get over it. I hope...*bites nails*...but yeah, I've got tons of ideas for this story, and I'm beginning to love it more than Leadership, so I think it's gonna take a while before it's resolved! thank you for your compliments, comments and your lovverly review, as always :)
Raeghann - BRING BACK MY MUSES!!! Are we going to have to get on a plane and drag them back here??? *shakes fist in general direction of France* DAMN YOU!!!!! ... anyway blushes thanks SO much for the compliments; they really mean a lot coming from you! je t'adore, mon amie, and update your stuff soon :)
Ice- WAHOO FOR REVIEWS! thank you tons and tons and tons!!!
Bottles - *blushes* oh goodness! Thank you so much for saying that! I love the romance, what can I say *sheepish grin* thank you SO much for reviewing!! :)
Serina - you're a hopeless romantic, too?? *does happy dance* YAY! I have a partner in crime! Oh, don't worry - there will be much Spot/Key love, considering who I am, but not necessarily as much as in the last one. Thank you SO much for the review, and welcome to the hopeless romantics club. :)
GYYYYYPPPPPPSSSSSSYYYYYYY - *falls off her chair laughing and emerges some time later, very bruised looking oh kiddo, you crack me up so (WOAH I made a rhyme!! lol) - but WAIT! You're under house arrest - again - ?!?!??!!???! this is insanity. INSANITY I tell you!!! but anyway - thank you SO much for the compliments, you rock my socks, and damn you for insulting your writing style! I happen to ADORE it, thank you very much! *shakes fist* mais bien - ill send you that letter one of these days...heh...and glomping spot clone?? Whatever are you talking about?? Im not doing that *right*now*... heh....*shifty eyes*... heh... *cue superhero theme* uh-oh, my ali sense is tingling! There is evil afoot! TO THE ALI MOBILE! Over and out, ali*licious grin :)
*********
Their companionable silence was broken only by the sounds of the rain hitting the roof of the gazebo. Central Park was beautiful under the rain, if you knew where to look. The silent girl beside him only added to the beauty of the moment, although she wasn't particularly gorgeous. Her eyes seemed almost grey in the light and her hair was dripping down her back. She somewhat resembled a drowned cat - and yet Lock couldn't tear his eyes away.
"What's your name?" he half- whispered, afraid of shattering the magical atmosphere. She turned towards him, and a soft smile lit up her face.
"So I take it you don't remember me." Her voice was as cautious as his.
"Am I supposed to?" he wondered out loud with a puzzled smile.
"Nah," the girl turned her eyes back out to the wet branches of the trees surrounding them, "I guess not. I didn't think you did."
"I'm confused - how..." and as Lock looked at her, something about the way that she was standing, something about her eyes and the way that her wet hair was plastered across her back tugged at a memory in his heart. She raised her eyes slowly to his, and suddenly, he knew.
"Dreamer," he breather, and a smile lit up her eyes once more.
"Heya Ghost," she grinned gently, "It's good to see you."
Ghost. With that one word, a whole slew of memories came rushing back. His days in Queens after some stupid fight with Spot had pushed him out of Brooklyn. Hot, sticky summer nights filled with cigarettes and alcohol, countless craps games, laughter at crude jokes and a startling friendship with the girl now standing beside him. They had called him Ghost because they jokingly didn't believe that anyone could get into a disagreement with Spot Conlon and be left unharmed - he was really just a dead man walking.
She looked different, now. She was older, wiser perhaps - Dreamer had grown up. And yet, as he regarded her, something about her hadn't changed. Her eyes were still a soft brown, almost yellow as the light from the intermittent sun caught them. A faded blue ribbon was twined through the topmost buttonhole of her shirt. Reaching out a hand to touch the familiar fabric, he smiled in disbelief.
Here's the one girl that got away...so what are you gonna do about it?
Ignoring the traitorous voice in his head, he pulled her into a hug. She smelled exactly the way that she used to, and Lock had to pull away quickly before doing something that he would regret.
Or would you regret it?
As they parted, an awkward silence settled over the scene. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the rain against the ground and the wet rustle of the trees as the water coated their branches.
The silence stretched out for what seemed like forever, until -
"I -" they both began. Dreamer laughed, a laugh that was equal parts relief and embarrassment.
"Go ahead, Ghost, " she grinned at him.
"I - I was just gonna say, " he started rather nervously, "That I missed you." his voice cracked embarrassingly on the last word, and he blushed at her smile before he could turn away, her soft words stopped him.
"I missed you, too." If he hadn't known better, he would have said that there was something resonating behind those words. Something warm, and gentle, and so absolutely beautiful that he wouldn't allow himself to acknowledge it. That same forbidden "something" flashed in his eyes before he could mask it.
She's been here for five minutes, and already you're living in the past...
Needing to shock himself back into reality, Lock asked the question he had promised himself to not ask.
"How's Nails?"
There was nothing beautiful hidden in her tone as she responded,
"He's fine."
And yet Lock still mistook the sudden wetness of her eyes for a loving twinkle, and he turned away.
"You two are still together, then?"
"Together." Her voice was twinged with bitterness, "I suppose you could say that."
Why does it hurt her to say that? ...
"I'm glad." It sounded fake, even to him, "You two always seemed to be meant for each other."
Dreamer sighed almost imperceptibly, "That's what they tell me."
Lock finally caught the edge of unhappiness in her tone and looked at her with a question in his eyes.
"Dreamer, what's - "
"I just love Central Park under the rain," she interrupted, "Don't you? It's so much more romantic...The rain seems to make it less grey, somehow."
Lock stepped forward, his brow still furrowed in puzzlement, but Dreamer ignored him, ploughing forward with her words.
"How 'bout you, Ghost?" her eyes were feverishly bright as she turned to face him. "You gotta girl back home?"
Now it was his turn to sigh, and her turn to misunderstand.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that."
"You guess?" she raised an eyebrow. "Is she your girl, or isn't she?"
"She's my girl," he responded, his voice suddenly husky. "It's just..."
"Complicated?" Dreamer contributed. Lock nodded, not wanting to get into the whole love-triangle situation - it was far too depressingly clichŽ for a rainy day.
Dreamer rested her elbows on the sodden railing of their shelter and regarded the sky with understanding in her eyes.
"I know what you mean. Everything is like that, now."
He couldn't help but notice the pretty shapes her lips made as she spoke.
"Do you remember when we used to sell together on rainy days just like this one? An' we would have terrible business 'cause dry newsies are bad enough, but no one wants to set foot anywhere near a wet one?", her voice took on an almost childish tone as her eyes because full of memories.
"'Member how we used to go an' sit underneath a tree by the pond and watch the rain against the water and just...forget?"
Lock's breath caught, and he half-smiled at the memory now dancing across his conscious.
"We used to play the "what-if?" game," he murmured.
"To forget."
Lock nodded, silent once more.
Dreamer's eyes lost their trademark glaze, and she became very interested in her feet all of a sudden.
"I tried to play it with Nails," she whispered as if confessing some terrible secret, "He didn't understand."
Lock saw her shoulders tense, and saw her close here eyes against a much less pleasant memory of raucous, mocking laughter.
...is that just a raindrop, or...?
He had to ask. Placing a hand gently on her shoulder, he questioned softly -
"Dreamer, what's going on with Nails?"
She didn't respond, her brown eyes fixed once more on the cloud-ridden sky.
"Did he -"
She whirled to face him before he could finish his sentence, her hand against his lips. The vast depths of pain in her eyes were poorly masked, and the tear that slid it's way slowly down her cheek branded his heart forever.
"Don't ask, Ghost," she pleaded with a regret-filled smile, "Just please don't ask me that."
Before Lock could utter another word, she seemed to somehow push the pain out of her eyes.
"Let's play a game," she smiled up at him, grasping his wrist in her free hand, "Will you play with me?"
Her look was beseeching, begging him to let it go. Lock didn't respond, his gaze steady with hers.
A moment, suspended forever in time, passed before she turned away, her voice husky.
"Don't look at me like that. Ghost, please don't look at me like that. How am I supposed to..."
"What if you were the President's daughter?" his gentle question sent a wave of relief flowing through her, and she turned to face him, her smile lighting up their small piece of the world.
"If I were the President's daughter," she began, stepping towards him; "I would have a mansion full of servants." She took his hand in hers, pulling him down beside her. "They would all call me "Miss". I would have a personal maid called Rosie. She would help me get dressed to go out sometimes, in my fine walking suit with a matching parasol." She stretched out on the floor of the gazebo, ignoring the wetness that seeped through her clothes as Lock rested his head gently on her stomach, mimicking her posture. "I would walk through the streets, buying whatever I wanted. I would go back home and I would get my father to tell me the daily news, because - I would never have to touch another newspaper again!"
Her gales of laughter echoed out through the gazebo roof, past the treetops, into the sky.
And the sun broke through the clouds.
********
AN: review as always, s'il vous plait ... grrrrrrrr...
Aww, and it could have been so good... *shakes fist*
*insert standard disclaimer here* [+ Dreamer belongs to Dreamer, tous le monde.]
Wahoo for reviewers!!
Rhapsody - *runs to pick you up, but ends up tripping over you and falling flat on her face* aw damn... lol WAHOO! It's my favourite reviewer! Welcome back, me dearie, and thanks SO much for the review! ... now that I've updated this, I can say - UPDATE YOUR STORY DAMMIT!!! Heh... I like being able to do that *grin* Je t'aime, mon amie!
Dreamer - thanks for attacking my writer's block. It took a while to come in to effect, but HAH! It did! ... I wrote 7 pages today!!!!!!!! ... 'course, they were 7 *crappy* pages, but STILL! It's fantastique. Thanks for the review, kiddo!!!
Shorty Carter - duuuuuuuude, brownies! You're wunderfful and a half! Thanks for the review and the baked goods!! :)
Raven's Wing - wahoo! I *love* your reviews 'cause they're helpful. You were right about the needing to write thing...and you were also right about the not liking what you write part. Aw damn. Oh well. I'll get over it. I hope...*bites nails*...but yeah, I've got tons of ideas for this story, and I'm beginning to love it more than Leadership, so I think it's gonna take a while before it's resolved! thank you for your compliments, comments and your lovverly review, as always :)
Raeghann - BRING BACK MY MUSES!!! Are we going to have to get on a plane and drag them back here??? *shakes fist in general direction of France* DAMN YOU!!!!! ... anyway blushes thanks SO much for the compliments; they really mean a lot coming from you! je t'adore, mon amie, and update your stuff soon :)
Ice- WAHOO FOR REVIEWS! thank you tons and tons and tons!!!
Bottles - *blushes* oh goodness! Thank you so much for saying that! I love the romance, what can I say *sheepish grin* thank you SO much for reviewing!! :)
Serina - you're a hopeless romantic, too?? *does happy dance* YAY! I have a partner in crime! Oh, don't worry - there will be much Spot/Key love, considering who I am, but not necessarily as much as in the last one. Thank you SO much for the review, and welcome to the hopeless romantics club. :)
GYYYYYPPPPPPSSSSSSYYYYYYY - *falls off her chair laughing and emerges some time later, very bruised looking oh kiddo, you crack me up so (WOAH I made a rhyme!! lol) - but WAIT! You're under house arrest - again - ?!?!??!!???! this is insanity. INSANITY I tell you!!! but anyway - thank you SO much for the compliments, you rock my socks, and damn you for insulting your writing style! I happen to ADORE it, thank you very much! *shakes fist* mais bien - ill send you that letter one of these days...heh...and glomping spot clone?? Whatever are you talking about?? Im not doing that *right*now*... heh....*shifty eyes*... heh... *cue superhero theme* uh-oh, my ali sense is tingling! There is evil afoot! TO THE ALI MOBILE! Over and out, ali*licious grin :)
*********
Their companionable silence was broken only by the sounds of the rain hitting the roof of the gazebo. Central Park was beautiful under the rain, if you knew where to look. The silent girl beside him only added to the beauty of the moment, although she wasn't particularly gorgeous. Her eyes seemed almost grey in the light and her hair was dripping down her back. She somewhat resembled a drowned cat - and yet Lock couldn't tear his eyes away.
"What's your name?" he half- whispered, afraid of shattering the magical atmosphere. She turned towards him, and a soft smile lit up her face.
"So I take it you don't remember me." Her voice was as cautious as his.
"Am I supposed to?" he wondered out loud with a puzzled smile.
"Nah," the girl turned her eyes back out to the wet branches of the trees surrounding them, "I guess not. I didn't think you did."
"I'm confused - how..." and as Lock looked at her, something about the way that she was standing, something about her eyes and the way that her wet hair was plastered across her back tugged at a memory in his heart. She raised her eyes slowly to his, and suddenly, he knew.
"Dreamer," he breather, and a smile lit up her eyes once more.
"Heya Ghost," she grinned gently, "It's good to see you."
Ghost. With that one word, a whole slew of memories came rushing back. His days in Queens after some stupid fight with Spot had pushed him out of Brooklyn. Hot, sticky summer nights filled with cigarettes and alcohol, countless craps games, laughter at crude jokes and a startling friendship with the girl now standing beside him. They had called him Ghost because they jokingly didn't believe that anyone could get into a disagreement with Spot Conlon and be left unharmed - he was really just a dead man walking.
She looked different, now. She was older, wiser perhaps - Dreamer had grown up. And yet, as he regarded her, something about her hadn't changed. Her eyes were still a soft brown, almost yellow as the light from the intermittent sun caught them. A faded blue ribbon was twined through the topmost buttonhole of her shirt. Reaching out a hand to touch the familiar fabric, he smiled in disbelief.
Here's the one girl that got away...so what are you gonna do about it?
Ignoring the traitorous voice in his head, he pulled her into a hug. She smelled exactly the way that she used to, and Lock had to pull away quickly before doing something that he would regret.
Or would you regret it?
As they parted, an awkward silence settled over the scene. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the rain against the ground and the wet rustle of the trees as the water coated their branches.
The silence stretched out for what seemed like forever, until -
"I -" they both began. Dreamer laughed, a laugh that was equal parts relief and embarrassment.
"Go ahead, Ghost, " she grinned at him.
"I - I was just gonna say, " he started rather nervously, "That I missed you." his voice cracked embarrassingly on the last word, and he blushed at her smile before he could turn away, her soft words stopped him.
"I missed you, too." If he hadn't known better, he would have said that there was something resonating behind those words. Something warm, and gentle, and so absolutely beautiful that he wouldn't allow himself to acknowledge it. That same forbidden "something" flashed in his eyes before he could mask it.
She's been here for five minutes, and already you're living in the past...
Needing to shock himself back into reality, Lock asked the question he had promised himself to not ask.
"How's Nails?"
There was nothing beautiful hidden in her tone as she responded,
"He's fine."
And yet Lock still mistook the sudden wetness of her eyes for a loving twinkle, and he turned away.
"You two are still together, then?"
"Together." Her voice was twinged with bitterness, "I suppose you could say that."
Why does it hurt her to say that? ...
"I'm glad." It sounded fake, even to him, "You two always seemed to be meant for each other."
Dreamer sighed almost imperceptibly, "That's what they tell me."
Lock finally caught the edge of unhappiness in her tone and looked at her with a question in his eyes.
"Dreamer, what's - "
"I just love Central Park under the rain," she interrupted, "Don't you? It's so much more romantic...The rain seems to make it less grey, somehow."
Lock stepped forward, his brow still furrowed in puzzlement, but Dreamer ignored him, ploughing forward with her words.
"How 'bout you, Ghost?" her eyes were feverishly bright as she turned to face him. "You gotta girl back home?"
Now it was his turn to sigh, and her turn to misunderstand.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that."
"You guess?" she raised an eyebrow. "Is she your girl, or isn't she?"
"She's my girl," he responded, his voice suddenly husky. "It's just..."
"Complicated?" Dreamer contributed. Lock nodded, not wanting to get into the whole love-triangle situation - it was far too depressingly clichŽ for a rainy day.
Dreamer rested her elbows on the sodden railing of their shelter and regarded the sky with understanding in her eyes.
"I know what you mean. Everything is like that, now."
He couldn't help but notice the pretty shapes her lips made as she spoke.
"Do you remember when we used to sell together on rainy days just like this one? An' we would have terrible business 'cause dry newsies are bad enough, but no one wants to set foot anywhere near a wet one?", her voice took on an almost childish tone as her eyes because full of memories.
"'Member how we used to go an' sit underneath a tree by the pond and watch the rain against the water and just...forget?"
Lock's breath caught, and he half-smiled at the memory now dancing across his conscious.
"We used to play the "what-if?" game," he murmured.
"To forget."
Lock nodded, silent once more.
Dreamer's eyes lost their trademark glaze, and she became very interested in her feet all of a sudden.
"I tried to play it with Nails," she whispered as if confessing some terrible secret, "He didn't understand."
Lock saw her shoulders tense, and saw her close here eyes against a much less pleasant memory of raucous, mocking laughter.
...is that just a raindrop, or...?
He had to ask. Placing a hand gently on her shoulder, he questioned softly -
"Dreamer, what's going on with Nails?"
She didn't respond, her brown eyes fixed once more on the cloud-ridden sky.
"Did he -"
She whirled to face him before he could finish his sentence, her hand against his lips. The vast depths of pain in her eyes were poorly masked, and the tear that slid it's way slowly down her cheek branded his heart forever.
"Don't ask, Ghost," she pleaded with a regret-filled smile, "Just please don't ask me that."
Before Lock could utter another word, she seemed to somehow push the pain out of her eyes.
"Let's play a game," she smiled up at him, grasping his wrist in her free hand, "Will you play with me?"
Her look was beseeching, begging him to let it go. Lock didn't respond, his gaze steady with hers.
A moment, suspended forever in time, passed before she turned away, her voice husky.
"Don't look at me like that. Ghost, please don't look at me like that. How am I supposed to..."
"What if you were the President's daughter?" his gentle question sent a wave of relief flowing through her, and she turned to face him, her smile lighting up their small piece of the world.
"If I were the President's daughter," she began, stepping towards him; "I would have a mansion full of servants." She took his hand in hers, pulling him down beside her. "They would all call me "Miss". I would have a personal maid called Rosie. She would help me get dressed to go out sometimes, in my fine walking suit with a matching parasol." She stretched out on the floor of the gazebo, ignoring the wetness that seeped through her clothes as Lock rested his head gently on her stomach, mimicking her posture. "I would walk through the streets, buying whatever I wanted. I would go back home and I would get my father to tell me the daily news, because - I would never have to touch another newspaper again!"
Her gales of laughter echoed out through the gazebo roof, past the treetops, into the sky.
And the sun broke through the clouds.
********
AN: review as always, s'il vous plait ... grrrrrrrr...
Aww, and it could have been so good... *shakes fist*
