Disclaimer: I own me(maybe). I possibly own my brain (or a brain of any sort). Might own my clothes. But Alias? You've gotta be kidding me. No, I leave that to the smart people. (basically I'm saying that JJ Abrams and them people own Alias, and Kelly Clarkson and RCA own the song Beautiful Disaster)
Authors Notes: I would just like to thank you reviewers again. You're so wonderful, and It's because of you that I keep writing this story.
----Vaughn----
After I realised that Lauren was crying, I couldn't watch anymore. I knew I should stop her, but I didn't. It was probably too late now. To stop her, I mean. The best thing would for her to be to read them all. Or at least the first half. After that, I don't know if I want to explain that whole thing. Because then, I would most probably have to tell Sydney. Now, I'm afraid that Sydney won't ever forgive me for what I've done. You know, what with sort of rubbing my marriage in her face, giving her all this false hope, it's just not cool, and I hate myself for all of it. But the point is, that if I tell her this, I doubt she'll ever speak to me again.
----Lauren----
After the first two letters, I stopped analyzing everything that was said on the page. I just sat and read, soaked it in. It became a cycle. Pick up a letter, open the envelope, read the page, fold it back and return it to it's rightful place.
Dear Syd,
I went on that date with Lauren. It was nice. Really awkward but nice. All in all, I had fun. I think I'm falling for this girl. Which is why I need to write this now.
Okay okay. Just because I didn't analyze everything didn't mean I didn't think about some of the stuff. And this particular letter brought back a distinct memory.
Flashback
I stood, shivering in the cold. I really hoped he hadn't gotten lost. I was wearing a simple black dress, and It was rather flattering on me, but did nothing whatsoever to keep out the cold. LA wasn't the coldest place on earth, but once you live there, you get fairly adjusted to the high temperatures, the chilly night temperature in light clothing can really get to you. Especially in December. I wrapped my grey shawl tighter around my shoulder. I was seriously thinking about turning around and going back inside when Michael's car pulled up. And he stepped out. His eyes widened.
"Lauren," he said loudly. "You must be freezing."
I smiled. Always a gentleman. I thought. "I'm a little chilly," said softly. "But I think I'll live."
I got into the car. The ride there was mostly quiet. They finally pulled in to a little parking lot. A small neon sign said Roanies.
"Have you ever been here?" Michael asked me, cocking his head a little to the side as he turned to look at me. I don't know how he does it. He does something so simple that makes you feel like the most important person in the world.
"No," I said, smirking a little. "Have you?"
"No," he said, and all of a sudden he was grinning. I was trying very hard to control my breathing and heartbeat. I had to stop looking into his eyes. Oh, those eyes. One glance into the green pools threatens to pull you in forever. And at that moment, I was doing everything I could not to fall in love. I wasn't exactly being successful. Which was bad.
We stepped into the restaurant. It was dimly lit, with dark walls, yet there was still a homey comfortable feel about it. There were booths and tables set all around the edges, and a dance floor in the center. A young girl with a sweet face and red curly hair came bouncing up with a grin on her face. "Seating for two?"
later on that night
"What did your father say?" Michael had his eyebrows raised at me, and his face was trying to conceal a smile, but wasn't doing very well.
"Well, when he discovered Timmy was in my closet, he grounded me for a week and dumped him in the forest." I said, putting on my best trying to be sad but aren't really face.
"I still can't believe you kept a chicken in your closet." He said, chuckling.
"For the last time," I said exasperated. "Timmy was a pheasant. Pheasants are nothing like chickens. Other than the whole bird thing." But I couldn't help but chuckle myself.
A slow song came on over the speakers. Michael smiled. "Would you like to dance?" he asked me.
I grinned. "I'd love to," I replied.
He stood up, and grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the dance floor. It was a simple gesture, but it just made it that much more romantic.
He drowns in his dreams
An exquisite extreme , I know
He's as damned as he seems
And more heaven than a heart could hold
And If I tried to save him
My whole heart could cave in
It just ain't right
It just ain't right
He was a great dancer. I couldn't help but feel safe in his arms as he guided me across the floor. And the lyrics of the song started to haunt my thoughts as I wondered how I ever fell in love with an assignment.
Oh, and I don't know
I don't know what he's after
But he's so beautiful
Such a beautiful disaster
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Would it be beautiful
Or just a beautiful disaster?
I knew what a mess I was in. Being in love was the main cause for screw ups on an assignment of this sort. But truthfully I didn't care. I fell in love with being in love with him. I felt like a schoolgirl, and I liked that feeling.
His magic and myth
As strong as what I believe
A tragedy with
More damage than a soul should see.
And do I try to change him
So hard not to blame him
Hold on tight
Hold on tight
I was terrified of my situation. Not only was falling in love against the rules of my game, but this man was still getting over his last girlfriend. That wouldn't matter if I was able to think rational thoughts. But no, every time I attempted one, I would just look back into Michael's eyes, and nothing was left except awe of this beautiful but damaged man. It was just like the song said. A beautiful disaster.
Oh, 'cause I don't know
I don't know what he's after
But he's so beautiful
Such a beautiful disaster
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Would it be beautiful,
Or just a beautiful disaster?
Suddenly, for no apparent reason, Michael twirled me. Once again, I wondered what is was about him that was able to make something so simple, so amazing. But maybe that was it. Maybe it was so simple, it was brilliant. But when I came back to face him. He had a far-off sadness in his eyes and I knew a thought of Sydney had crossed his mind. I touched the side of his face gingerly.
"I'm sorry," I said, not knowing what else there was to say. He smiled sweetly at me.
"Don't be sorry," he said simply and pulled me in tighter.
I'm longing for love and the logical
But he's only happy hysterical
I'm waiting for some kind of miracle
Waited so long
So long
He's soft to the touch
But frayed at the end he breaks
He's never enough
And still leaves more than I can take.
Then it was gone. The music still played, but I don't think either of us heard or cared. "Do you wanna get out of here?" Michael asked me.
I smiled a little. "Sort of." He grabbed my hand and pulled me across the restaurant. We payed for our food, and he dragged me out to his car.
"Where exactly are we going?" I asked Michael, while grinning my ridiculously.
He smirked playfully. "You'll see," he said.
About ten minutes later we arrived somewhere. I couldn't tell where it was because the minute we got there, Michael raced to shut off the car, and he cupped his hands over my eyes. He then had to help me out of the car, then over bumps and whatnot. I trusted him completely the whole way. I was so screwed.
He finally took his hands away from my eyes. I gasped in delight. We were in a park of some sort. There was this tree. Not really tall, but thick and strong, and hanging from one of its branches was one of those old fashioned swings, the one with the board and two ropes. But what I was gasping at was the view. Now I've seen LA city lights before. And they're pretty I suppose, But they could never compare to that view.
This was a giant hill, overlooking a residential area and each house was covered in Christmas decorations. There were light-up Santas and reindeer, mini blimp snow men and elves, and little white, red, green and blue lights twinkled everywhere you looked.
"It's beautiful," I whispered.
Michael grinned. "Shall we sit?" I smiled and nodded. We squished together on the big but not exactly made for two people swing. Michael was talking about something. Sunsets in France, I think.
"You aren't really listening, are you?" He asked me.
I tore my eyes awayfrom the lights to throw him an apologetic look. "Sorry," I said. "There's just so much to see out there."
He looked at me, and smiled a bit. I looked back at him. Our faces inched closer and closer until our lips met.
It was most definitely better than the view. By a long shot. And somehow, the music started playing again. Perhaps only in my head, but it seemed much more vivid.
Oh, 'cause I don't know
I don't know what he's after
But he's so beautiful
Such a beautiful disaster
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Would it be beautiful
Or just a beautiful disaster?
End Flashback
I don't particularly remember much after that. Once he kissed me, everything became a little blurry.
I shook my head and went back to reading the letter.
Dear Syd,
I went on that date with Lauren. It was nice. Really awkward but nice. All in all, I had fun. I think I'm falling for this girl. Which is why I need to write this now. It's been a long time, and I need to get over you and get on with my life. I mean, your a truly amazing person and I'll love you forever, but I need to try and stop being in love with you. Because your just not around to be in love with me back. This is my last letter to you. I realise my letters are only a way to struggle to hold onto you, which isn't even working that well. But it was nice, feeling like I was getting through to you, but I don't think I am. But if I am, you have to know how much I love and will always love you, but now, I need to make some space in my heart for someone new.
Love you forever,
Vaughn
So that was it? He went on a date with me and all those issues just went away? But there were still so many letters left. Did he just have all his letters from everywhere in this bundle? Those letters were quite personal, and I feel bad for invading that (sort of), but thats not the point. The point is, people don't usually keep their private personal letters with everything else. The hide them in their sock drawers, or under floor boards, or in secret compartments inside secret hideaways- actually, that last one's probably just me.
I picked up the next envelope. Sure enough, It said To Sydney. I opened it and began to read.
----Sydney----
The short man behind the desk was looking at me skeptically. "I usually give them to Kendall," he said.
"And he usually gives them to me, I swear." I said, with absolutely no emotion on my face or in my voice. It creeped me out actually, to be so emotionless. Me and the man behind the desk argued for quite a while until he finally handed over the letter.
"Thank you," I said briskly, but he never replied. I walked away. I wanted so much to rip open the letter, but I couldn't, not until I was safely out of sight. It was a big risk, going i there at all myself, taking an envelope the said Sydney on it. I got into the back of the limousine. I carefully and slowly ripped open the envelope. I unfolded the page and--
THUD!!!!!!
"Mmmm," I groaned, frowning at the dull pain in my left shoulder. I opened my eyes and looked around. I had fallen off my bed. Fallen off my bed? What was I, four years old? I really didn't care about that though, what I really cared about was that my dream was interrupted. I mean, that doesn't happen to me. I realised I was dreaming, yet I had no control over what was happening, It was like I was in a movie. Or a memory. That was why I found it so important to continue the dream. But I doubted that would happen. So I went back to bed.
Authors notes- I just have to tell everyone, that writing this chapter was really weird for me, because I am a huge SV shipper, but the point I want to get across here is that Vaughn wasn't being a jackass when he got over Sydney