Paper Connection
By Cold-Zephyr
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst/Drama
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Description: -slash- They may live miles apart, but love keeps them together. Read the heartfelt letters that these two send each other in this story, Paper Connection.
A/N: Sorry for the lateness. Sloth is deadly. Anyway, for the first time in the story, there will be no letter in the chapter (unless you count the little postcard at the end LOL). Sorry if you were expecting one, and I hope that you'll still enjoy reading this part of the story, which is something of a songfic-type chapter, even in the absence of the usual long, heartfelt and emotional letter. I hope I'm not gonna drive away your interest in the story or anything. Thanks, everyone!
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Chapter 7: Driving Away
The sides of the letter crumpled in Bret's tight grip. He had been reading and rereading it the whole night long, every single word stirring deep pangs in his heart. How he wished that Shawn's persistence was enough to bring them together. Bret dropped the letter in a sudden outburst of raw emotion: a volatile mix of frustration and sorrow. He couldn't take it anymore. He needed to...drive.
Finally deciding to do so, Bret shrugged on a leather jacket and got into his car. The warm breeze blew in through the open car window, messing up his dark locks. He didn't know where he was going exactly, but at that particular moment, it didn't matter. He just needed to escape, to drive away from the heavy emotions that burdened his heart. Sixty miles an hour...seventy...eighty...Bret always found freedom, solace and comfort behind the wheel. The smooth, suave voice of the radio station DJ was heard as Bret turned on his car radio.
"Up next is the song 'Stigmatized' by The Calling. Happy listening, Calgary, and good morning to you all."
If I give up on you, I give up on me
If we fight what's true, will we ever be
Even God himself and the faith I knew
Shouldn't hold me back, shouldn't keep me from you
Bret groaned miserably. "God damn...must EVERYTHING remind me of this fucking predicament I'm in?"
That song...those lyrics seemed to be written just for the two of them. Despite its bringing back all the anguish that Bret was desperately trying to escape away from, he found himself listening to the song anyway as he drove on at a constant speed.
Tease me, by holding out your hand
Then leave me, or take me as I am
And live our lives, stigmatized
I can feel the blood rushing though my veins
When I hear your voice, driving me insane
Hour after hour day after day
Every lonely night that I sit and pray
We live our lives on different sides
But we keep together you and I
Just live our lives, stigmatized
We'll live our lives, we'll take the punches everyday
We'll live our lives I know we're gonna find our way
I believe in you, even if no one understands
I believe in you, and I don't really give a damn
If we're stigmatized
We gotta live our lives
We're gonna live our lives, gonna live our lives
Stigmatized
He pulled over as the song ended. Overcome once again with emotion, Bret struggled not to break down into tears, for he felt that crying was a sign of weakness. In short, he didn't want to look like a pansy. So instead, he exhaled sharply, and leaning against his car seat, he allowed just one solitary tear to roll silently down his cheek.
The DJ's voice came back on the radio. "Ladies and gentlemen, you just heard The Calling's 'Stigmatized.' Now for some news...hey, folks, listen to this! The biggest event of the entire season is coming right here to good ol' Canada! It's WWE Summerslam, this August in Toronto! More details right after the commercial break."
Did Bret just hear right? The WWE is coming to Canada? I wonder if Shawn's going to be there...
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Only a postcard came this time for Shawn Michaels. Well, that and around three dozen roses, too, in both red and white. Setting aside the flowers, Shawn glanced at the familiar cursive on the postcard.
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Dear Shawn,
Indeed...love always finds a way.
Bret
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He set the postcard down on the table as well after reading it, and trudged sleepily towards his hotel bedroom. The bed was the most interesting part of the room, if one were to have a glance at it: it was covered in red rose petals, from the two bouquets of roses that Bret had sent Shawn previously. For Shawn, the petals symbolized Bret's undying love for him, and he treasured that more than anything else in the world. Falling back onto the bed, Shawn closed his eyes and inhaled the soft, delicate scent. Yes, Bret...I will see you again.
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A/N: It's time for Summerslam! What's going to happen then, you ask? Check back in a week or two for the final chapter of the story (yeah, it makes me sorry to have to end it this soon, too). It's been wonderful writing for you guys, and I'm more than grateful for all your heartwarming reviews. Reading them is one of the greatest highs of being a fan fiction writer. You don't know just how happy you all make me.
'Till next time, Cold-Zephyr