Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of its characters.
Offstage Exits
Faye
You know what kills me?
I mean, besides the fact that last night Spike rejected me. The thing that kills me isn't that.
What makes all this wretched, what eats away at me is that I understand.
I understand why he did what he did. Not just him turning away from me, but just everything. I understand why he loved Julia. I understand the way he hated Vicious. I understand the reason he left us to meet death.
I understand him.
Even before he left, I knew what he was about. You see, behind all my loud and obnoxious comments, my arrogant and belligerent manner, my tiny yellow hotpants...behind it all, I saw through everything. I'm not stupid. I'm not going to say that I agreed with him, or that I even could grasp the true essence of what makes him the person he is, but I understood it all.
I don't hate her. Julia, that is. When I met her, I liked her enough. The thing with most pretty girls is that they compete with each other. I'm not like that. I know I'm good looking. If there is one thing, just one, that I am sure about, it's that I look good. I know that sounds conceited, but it's not. I don't think I'm the most beautiful woman in the world, not even close, but I can use my looks to get what I want. Most of the time. And as a woman, I notice other women.
Julia was beautiful. In that classic, almost generic kind of way. Long, wavy blonde hair, navy blue eyes, perfect oval face. But I think it's the way she would hold herself that made her stand out. She had this air about her, cool and elegant. Sophisticated and dangerous. She was cool.
But her looks didn't intimidate me. The reason being that she was like me, in a way. She knew that she was beautiful, but she didn't think much of it. It was just a fact. And she didn't care what I looked like, she didn't give me that catty once-over that most girls give each other. So I liked her.
And you gotta admire the girl for winning Spike over. I mean, really. This is Spike Spiegel. He's untouchable.
I wonder what it took for him to fall for her.
Was it love at first sight? Friends first? Enemies?
Anyway, Spike loved Julia. No, scratch that. Spike loves Julia. And I can't blame him. I could see where he's coming from. Not that it doesn't hurt my pride, God knows I have to fight to see this all clearly, without my wounded pride getting in the way. From what I've gathered, Julia was the only person in the world that made Spike give a damn about anything. She made him want to change.
You wanna know if a man really loves you?
Ask him to give it all up. His life, friends, money. Everything. See if he would sacrifice it all just for you. And Spike did.
He gave it all up for her.
And it's tragic. It really is. She died. Just when they were reunited, she got killed. The one thing in his life that mattered was gone.
I understand.
I'm not Julia. I'm in no position to try and replace her, nor do I want to.
I'm a mess.
I had parents. Amazing people. And I was an only child, so I was a little spoiled. Oh, but they were so amazing. In a ridiculously stereotypical kind of way.
I had the kind of mother other girls would die for. The kind that you can actually talk to, about boys, school, relationships. She didn't try to talk down to me, she listened to me. She actually listened to what I had to say, and we would talk things over. She wasn't the type to yell and ground me. Most teenagers don't want to be seen with their mothers, but I was always with mine. We went shopping together, rented corny chick flicks together. She was my best friend.
And my dad. He was the one to teach me what life is all about. He worked hard for my mother and me. I was a daddy's girl. I don't remember a time he refused anything I asked for, but at the same time he made sure I earned it. Respect was a big thing with him. I had to work for it. He was the kind of man other people looked up to. Making him proud was the sole purpose of my existence for a long, long time.
I had a huge house. A room full of dolls. I was voted Class President in high school. I was even head cheerleader. I had it all. It was disgustingly perfect.
Well, not perfect. I had the occasional fight with my parents, sometimes I got a little too competitive with my friends, almost flunked chemistry and biology. I hated science. I never really cared for it. Still don't. And my pride has been notorious for getting me into trouble.
But besides all those little things, what I'm trying to say is that I had this wonderful life. The kind of life people dream about, I had it all.
And so the way I see it is... my old life is Julia.
It was the world. It was everything. Nothing else existed or mattered.
And none of it is mine anymore.
It's all gone. And I'll never have it again. You see, when you have everything, and then it gets taken away from you, your life loses its purpose. Because I know what it feels like to have it all, and knowing that I can never have that again... it kills.
Knowing that my dad won't walk me down the aisle, that my mother won't ever brush my hair before I go to bed, that my friends' birthdays won't be celebrated anymore.... knowing all that kills me. It rips me apart.
When I think about it, my head hurts. My heart starts to cry, my hands clench, my chin trembles, my eyes burn. I have to tell myself to breathe, or else I'll have a nervous breakdown.
I don't know how to put it into words. It's the worst kind of pain. It hurts in a way that makes my whole body stiff. It hurts in a way that squeezes my heart and pierces my lungs. It just hurts.
So I know how Spike feels.
Because if he even feels the tiniest bit of grief that I feel...
I don't know what I'm trying to do with him. I know that he doesn't love me. I know that I will never make him feel the way Julia made him feel. I know that he's not the one who's going to save me from this nightmare, no matter how many times I tell myself that maybe he can.
But I'm the only one who can do that.
I just want to believe that someone wants to save me. Someone besides myself. I just need to know that I'm not in this world alone. I need to know that I can lean on someone if I get tired, that someone will catch me if I stumble. I need a hand to hold when I get scared, I need a smile to let me know it's going to be all right.
Because this cross that I'm carrying... it's too heavy.
I don't know how much longer I can hold it.
_____________________________________
She was wearing a skirt.
It was a light minty green, and fell in a straight line from her hips to a little above her knees. She had on a little white t-shirt, revealing just a sliver of her flat stomach. Her sandals were the color of straw... and seemed to be made of it, too. They went around her feet and wrapped around her thin ankles.
It was late afternoon, and Spike sat outside with an unopened bottle of scotch and fresh pack of cigarettes, saving the liquor for when the sky turned black.
Faye was returning to the Bebop, and when she saw him sitting there she stopped. He wasn't looking at her, but they both knew that he knew she was there. Squawking sea gulls flew around, the sky a fiery orange.
As if on cue, he stood up, reaching in his front pocket for his lighter. Faye stood silently, watching him inhale the smoke and roll his neck.
"Nice day," he observed. Spike looked at her now, his face so blank a canvas that it seemed to cry for a painter.
Faye was no artist.
"Yeah, it is," she answered. She hesitated before walking towards him. They both looked out into the distance, she imagined they made the perfect scene for a romantic movie.
His jacket was off, and his tie was loose. His hair looked more unruly than usual, eyes tired and dark, his mouth was set in a grim line, stubble growing on his chin. He hadn't shaved in 3 days.
She thought he looked beautiful.
"I'm dying," she whispered, not realizing she was thinking aloud.
Spike turned to look at her, but her solemn eyes were not meeting his. Her hair whipped around her face as the wind picked up.
"We all are," he answered. Their eyes met, and she nodded.
No sweeping exits or offstage lines,
can make me feel bitter or treat you unkind
It's a short chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for your reviews.
Offstage Exits
Faye
You know what kills me?
I mean, besides the fact that last night Spike rejected me. The thing that kills me isn't that.
What makes all this wretched, what eats away at me is that I understand.
I understand why he did what he did. Not just him turning away from me, but just everything. I understand why he loved Julia. I understand the way he hated Vicious. I understand the reason he left us to meet death.
I understand him.
Even before he left, I knew what he was about. You see, behind all my loud and obnoxious comments, my arrogant and belligerent manner, my tiny yellow hotpants...behind it all, I saw through everything. I'm not stupid. I'm not going to say that I agreed with him, or that I even could grasp the true essence of what makes him the person he is, but I understood it all.
I don't hate her. Julia, that is. When I met her, I liked her enough. The thing with most pretty girls is that they compete with each other. I'm not like that. I know I'm good looking. If there is one thing, just one, that I am sure about, it's that I look good. I know that sounds conceited, but it's not. I don't think I'm the most beautiful woman in the world, not even close, but I can use my looks to get what I want. Most of the time. And as a woman, I notice other women.
Julia was beautiful. In that classic, almost generic kind of way. Long, wavy blonde hair, navy blue eyes, perfect oval face. But I think it's the way she would hold herself that made her stand out. She had this air about her, cool and elegant. Sophisticated and dangerous. She was cool.
But her looks didn't intimidate me. The reason being that she was like me, in a way. She knew that she was beautiful, but she didn't think much of it. It was just a fact. And she didn't care what I looked like, she didn't give me that catty once-over that most girls give each other. So I liked her.
And you gotta admire the girl for winning Spike over. I mean, really. This is Spike Spiegel. He's untouchable.
I wonder what it took for him to fall for her.
Was it love at first sight? Friends first? Enemies?
Anyway, Spike loved Julia. No, scratch that. Spike loves Julia. And I can't blame him. I could see where he's coming from. Not that it doesn't hurt my pride, God knows I have to fight to see this all clearly, without my wounded pride getting in the way. From what I've gathered, Julia was the only person in the world that made Spike give a damn about anything. She made him want to change.
You wanna know if a man really loves you?
Ask him to give it all up. His life, friends, money. Everything. See if he would sacrifice it all just for you. And Spike did.
He gave it all up for her.
And it's tragic. It really is. She died. Just when they were reunited, she got killed. The one thing in his life that mattered was gone.
I understand.
I'm not Julia. I'm in no position to try and replace her, nor do I want to.
I'm a mess.
I had parents. Amazing people. And I was an only child, so I was a little spoiled. Oh, but they were so amazing. In a ridiculously stereotypical kind of way.
I had the kind of mother other girls would die for. The kind that you can actually talk to, about boys, school, relationships. She didn't try to talk down to me, she listened to me. She actually listened to what I had to say, and we would talk things over. She wasn't the type to yell and ground me. Most teenagers don't want to be seen with their mothers, but I was always with mine. We went shopping together, rented corny chick flicks together. She was my best friend.
And my dad. He was the one to teach me what life is all about. He worked hard for my mother and me. I was a daddy's girl. I don't remember a time he refused anything I asked for, but at the same time he made sure I earned it. Respect was a big thing with him. I had to work for it. He was the kind of man other people looked up to. Making him proud was the sole purpose of my existence for a long, long time.
I had a huge house. A room full of dolls. I was voted Class President in high school. I was even head cheerleader. I had it all. It was disgustingly perfect.
Well, not perfect. I had the occasional fight with my parents, sometimes I got a little too competitive with my friends, almost flunked chemistry and biology. I hated science. I never really cared for it. Still don't. And my pride has been notorious for getting me into trouble.
But besides all those little things, what I'm trying to say is that I had this wonderful life. The kind of life people dream about, I had it all.
And so the way I see it is... my old life is Julia.
It was the world. It was everything. Nothing else existed or mattered.
And none of it is mine anymore.
It's all gone. And I'll never have it again. You see, when you have everything, and then it gets taken away from you, your life loses its purpose. Because I know what it feels like to have it all, and knowing that I can never have that again... it kills.
Knowing that my dad won't walk me down the aisle, that my mother won't ever brush my hair before I go to bed, that my friends' birthdays won't be celebrated anymore.... knowing all that kills me. It rips me apart.
When I think about it, my head hurts. My heart starts to cry, my hands clench, my chin trembles, my eyes burn. I have to tell myself to breathe, or else I'll have a nervous breakdown.
I don't know how to put it into words. It's the worst kind of pain. It hurts in a way that makes my whole body stiff. It hurts in a way that squeezes my heart and pierces my lungs. It just hurts.
So I know how Spike feels.
Because if he even feels the tiniest bit of grief that I feel...
I don't know what I'm trying to do with him. I know that he doesn't love me. I know that I will never make him feel the way Julia made him feel. I know that he's not the one who's going to save me from this nightmare, no matter how many times I tell myself that maybe he can.
But I'm the only one who can do that.
I just want to believe that someone wants to save me. Someone besides myself. I just need to know that I'm not in this world alone. I need to know that I can lean on someone if I get tired, that someone will catch me if I stumble. I need a hand to hold when I get scared, I need a smile to let me know it's going to be all right.
Because this cross that I'm carrying... it's too heavy.
I don't know how much longer I can hold it.
_____________________________________
She was wearing a skirt.
It was a light minty green, and fell in a straight line from her hips to a little above her knees. She had on a little white t-shirt, revealing just a sliver of her flat stomach. Her sandals were the color of straw... and seemed to be made of it, too. They went around her feet and wrapped around her thin ankles.
It was late afternoon, and Spike sat outside with an unopened bottle of scotch and fresh pack of cigarettes, saving the liquor for when the sky turned black.
Faye was returning to the Bebop, and when she saw him sitting there she stopped. He wasn't looking at her, but they both knew that he knew she was there. Squawking sea gulls flew around, the sky a fiery orange.
As if on cue, he stood up, reaching in his front pocket for his lighter. Faye stood silently, watching him inhale the smoke and roll his neck.
"Nice day," he observed. Spike looked at her now, his face so blank a canvas that it seemed to cry for a painter.
Faye was no artist.
"Yeah, it is," she answered. She hesitated before walking towards him. They both looked out into the distance, she imagined they made the perfect scene for a romantic movie.
His jacket was off, and his tie was loose. His hair looked more unruly than usual, eyes tired and dark, his mouth was set in a grim line, stubble growing on his chin. He hadn't shaved in 3 days.
She thought he looked beautiful.
"I'm dying," she whispered, not realizing she was thinking aloud.
Spike turned to look at her, but her solemn eyes were not meeting his. Her hair whipped around her face as the wind picked up.
"We all are," he answered. Their eyes met, and she nodded.
No sweeping exits or offstage lines,
can make me feel bitter or treat you unkind
It's a short chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for your reviews.