Further to Fly
A Lost in Translation fanfic
By Dommi
So I saw this little movie some of you may have heard of called Lost in Translation. It's Bill Murray, it's Scarlet Johanssen (probably didn't spell that right), it's Sofia Coppola, and it's quite possibly the best romance to come out of Hollywood in a long, long time.
But I did have a couple questions about the final scene. So yeah. Obviously, this fic is spoilerific, so if you haven't seen the movie, I don't recommend you read this. Not that I can stop you but, you know how it goes. *nod* Title from the Paul Simon song, btw.
Erm…it's PG-ish, I suppose. Feedback, as always, is welcome. Bob, Charlotte, and Lost in Translation belong to Sofia Coppola and Focus Features. ^_^;;
It is cold.
That is all Charlotte can concentrate on as she walks away from the hotel and also as she walks away from him for the last time. It is cold and she can see her breath. She is no longer accustomed to the cold after living in L.A. for so long, but it is not entirely unwelcome, either.
She is walking away from the hotel and Bob and towards the train station to meet John.
She starts to forget the cold as she makes herself remember other things. Things like her favourite flavour of ice cream. The first time she ever smoked. The day she graduated from college last spring. Her initial excitement of coming to Japan for the first time.
It's funny in that piercing-funny way how quickly things and people change.
A year ago, she was struggling through her last year of school, John being supportive all the way as he shot the next and greatest Rolling Stone cover. There was talk of possibly moving to San Diego or maybe San Francisco.
Now…
Everything she ever was before and everything she is now seem incredibly far removed. Once upon a time, there was the future and the now and one simply led to the other with no bumps or interruptions.
Now, it's as though she has crossed some sort-of Demarcation Line between herself as she should be and herself as she is now. One can't exist without the other, and in spite of this or perhaps because of this, one resents the other's presence.
It's one of those "no one is to blame" scenarios, where she can't point the finger at Bob, John, or herself for messing with forever the way they have. The past five or six days were nothing but one of those accidents of fate that aren't really accidents.
The Masters in Philosophy calls that destiny.
She likens it more to the emotional fuckwittery of time differences, language barriers, culture shock, and a simple case of kindred spirits.
She's also starting to wonder when she became so histrionic. All she has to do is shed some tears and she's an instant Phil Collins song.
She won't, of course. After all, why cry for what could never be yours in the first place?
She's never going to see Bob again. She knew that going in and she knows it coming out. The pain…the pain remains as strong as if she was pleading ignorance, however. She's old enough to know that dwelling on this isn't exactly intelligent, but she's young enough not to care.
She keeps walking to the station, trying to find the thoughts that have escaped her mind when she hears English being shouted out of nowhere.
"Hey! You!"
Okay…so maybe she is going to see him again.
He's standing in front of her now and she knows the confusion is all over her face as he grabs her by the upper arms.
Is he going to kiss her? She doesn't want him to kiss her. She's praying for him to kiss her.
He pulls her in roughly and just holds her, just caresses her hair. And she is brave, because she wants to cry and never let him go…instead, she waits for him to speak.
When he finally does, it's barely a whisper in her ear.
"Meeting you was the most beautiful accident I've ever been in. You break my heart, because I know why things are the way they are, and I'm at odds with me now. Because I don't care about the circumstances. But…."
Bravery is long gone, flying away on the Tokyo air as the tears form in her eyes. To her credit, she doesn't allow them to fall. They merely hover as she waits for him to finish.
"…I could never live with myself if being with you caused you pain. And I know you couldn't either. It's…it's just better this way."
And this is why all good things end; because inevitably, the dreams fade out and reality always, always wins.
She feels worn out as he pulls back a little and kisses her on her temple. Her answering smile is shaky and watery at best. And he does kiss her once, just once and softly enough to quell the tears for good.
"Goodbye," is all he says then, and she naturally replies in kind.
And then he turns, and as he turns he lets her go. Then he starts to walk away. And she turns and walks in the opposite direction.
She keeps smiling as she goes, pondering the accident that was their meeting. She knows that for the rest of her life, she'll have to stop for a moment when she sees a seemingly familiar smile in a passing vehicle. Or when she sees an advertisement for his latest movie or play.
She turns and watches him walk away for a moment, and then she goes back to watching her own path.
Wherever she walks after this, she'll see his face and smile, because the cold can't bother her anymore. Because her world is a little better and a bit brighter for having lived through these five days. Because she can't predict the future and can't tell quite who she is, but she's a better person for someone else having seen her instead.
Because of having further and higher to fly on for her, for him, and forever.
A Lost in Translation fanfic
By Dommi
So I saw this little movie some of you may have heard of called Lost in Translation. It's Bill Murray, it's Scarlet Johanssen (probably didn't spell that right), it's Sofia Coppola, and it's quite possibly the best romance to come out of Hollywood in a long, long time.
But I did have a couple questions about the final scene. So yeah. Obviously, this fic is spoilerific, so if you haven't seen the movie, I don't recommend you read this. Not that I can stop you but, you know how it goes. *nod* Title from the Paul Simon song, btw.
Erm…it's PG-ish, I suppose. Feedback, as always, is welcome. Bob, Charlotte, and Lost in Translation belong to Sofia Coppola and Focus Features. ^_^;;
It is cold.
That is all Charlotte can concentrate on as she walks away from the hotel and also as she walks away from him for the last time. It is cold and she can see her breath. She is no longer accustomed to the cold after living in L.A. for so long, but it is not entirely unwelcome, either.
She is walking away from the hotel and Bob and towards the train station to meet John.
She starts to forget the cold as she makes herself remember other things. Things like her favourite flavour of ice cream. The first time she ever smoked. The day she graduated from college last spring. Her initial excitement of coming to Japan for the first time.
It's funny in that piercing-funny way how quickly things and people change.
A year ago, she was struggling through her last year of school, John being supportive all the way as he shot the next and greatest Rolling Stone cover. There was talk of possibly moving to San Diego or maybe San Francisco.
Now…
Everything she ever was before and everything she is now seem incredibly far removed. Once upon a time, there was the future and the now and one simply led to the other with no bumps or interruptions.
Now, it's as though she has crossed some sort-of Demarcation Line between herself as she should be and herself as she is now. One can't exist without the other, and in spite of this or perhaps because of this, one resents the other's presence.
It's one of those "no one is to blame" scenarios, where she can't point the finger at Bob, John, or herself for messing with forever the way they have. The past five or six days were nothing but one of those accidents of fate that aren't really accidents.
The Masters in Philosophy calls that destiny.
She likens it more to the emotional fuckwittery of time differences, language barriers, culture shock, and a simple case of kindred spirits.
She's also starting to wonder when she became so histrionic. All she has to do is shed some tears and she's an instant Phil Collins song.
She won't, of course. After all, why cry for what could never be yours in the first place?
She's never going to see Bob again. She knew that going in and she knows it coming out. The pain…the pain remains as strong as if she was pleading ignorance, however. She's old enough to know that dwelling on this isn't exactly intelligent, but she's young enough not to care.
She keeps walking to the station, trying to find the thoughts that have escaped her mind when she hears English being shouted out of nowhere.
"Hey! You!"
Okay…so maybe she is going to see him again.
He's standing in front of her now and she knows the confusion is all over her face as he grabs her by the upper arms.
Is he going to kiss her? She doesn't want him to kiss her. She's praying for him to kiss her.
He pulls her in roughly and just holds her, just caresses her hair. And she is brave, because she wants to cry and never let him go…instead, she waits for him to speak.
When he finally does, it's barely a whisper in her ear.
"Meeting you was the most beautiful accident I've ever been in. You break my heart, because I know why things are the way they are, and I'm at odds with me now. Because I don't care about the circumstances. But…."
Bravery is long gone, flying away on the Tokyo air as the tears form in her eyes. To her credit, she doesn't allow them to fall. They merely hover as she waits for him to finish.
"…I could never live with myself if being with you caused you pain. And I know you couldn't either. It's…it's just better this way."
And this is why all good things end; because inevitably, the dreams fade out and reality always, always wins.
She feels worn out as he pulls back a little and kisses her on her temple. Her answering smile is shaky and watery at best. And he does kiss her once, just once and softly enough to quell the tears for good.
"Goodbye," is all he says then, and she naturally replies in kind.
And then he turns, and as he turns he lets her go. Then he starts to walk away. And she turns and walks in the opposite direction.
She keeps smiling as she goes, pondering the accident that was their meeting. She knows that for the rest of her life, she'll have to stop for a moment when she sees a seemingly familiar smile in a passing vehicle. Or when she sees an advertisement for his latest movie or play.
She turns and watches him walk away for a moment, and then she goes back to watching her own path.
Wherever she walks after this, she'll see his face and smile, because the cold can't bother her anymore. Because her world is a little better and a bit brighter for having lived through these five days. Because she can't predict the future and can't tell quite who she is, but she's a better person for someone else having seen her instead.
Because of having further and higher to fly on for her, for him, and forever.