Disclaimer: I do not own any of the O.C characters or storylines...(although I wish I owned Adam Brody...)
CHASING GHOSTS
CHAPTER 1 - PROSAIC
She had hated it from the word "go". It just served as a constant reminder that he was always watching; always looking over her shoulder, always there. For years she had prayed for stability, for balance...and now, now she found herself wishing that the pertubation, the uncertainties would return, and stop her life from being so prosaic.
She hated it so much, in fact, that she couldn't take it off.
Summer had always been the same; She loved Zach...she really did. He kept her safe and kept her smart but he didn't keep her guessing. Her relationship with Zach didn't keep her thinking anymore, and sometimes she just longed for the reliability that Seth would always mess up before her.
They had left Newport without a second glance and settled in Las Vegas, building a home, building a life, and never, not once in the nine years that they'd been away had Summer missed anything from her home town except the sea...but today, on the tenth anniversary since Marissa's death, Summer found herself wondering what would have happened if Seth had never gone away, or...god forbid it, she'd been able to forgive him.
She didn't miss talking Seth. She didn't miss the stupid, unthinking things that came out of his mouth and she didn't miss the way his hair was always too long and his clothes were always too scruffy. She missed silent Seth. She missed the awkwardness of their relationship. She hated the stability of her engagement, and suddenly realised that Zach, that Las Vegas, that her new life and that her inevitable marriage would eventually suck all the life, all the spark, and all the Summer-ness out of her.
And suddenly, for the first time in years; she was scared.
She twirled the ring on her finger and gazed into the glinting diamond. She almost saw Zach. Watching her. Keeping tabs on her. Always jealous and always paranoid that she wanted someone else. That was why they'd left Newport. Zach was scared that Summer would forgive Seth and go back to him, never knowing, as he thought it, that Summer was in love with him, that she had never loved Seth; except for that split, fleeting moment when she'd found his note...right before she hated him.
She breathed deeply, feeling herself suffocating in the familiar house and made a quick snap decision: She would go and see her father; curing the Seth orientated obsession while she was there.
She was going back to Newport. Back to memories, back to feelings, back to fuel her Seth-obsession. Zach felt like hitting something. He'd taken so much time, so much effort to make her feel good. He'd made himself prosaic just for her; to make her feel safe and stable and now he felt he was losing her.
He hadn't wanted to leave Newport. He'd wanted to stay with his family, with his friends, in that familiar, warm place that he called home. He'd left to save her from herself, to save her from her obsession. He'd left, to save Summer the pain of losing him.
And she'd never once seen it that way.
In the process of saving Summer, he'd become this bland, boring, jealous man. He had become his father without even realising it but he wasn't going to follow Summer back to Newport. If she'd ever loved him, if she'd meant the things she so frequently whispered, she'd be back; and if she fucked Cohen then he was dead.
"Zach?" She coughed through the smoke filled living room. "I though we agreed that you'd quit."
He took a drag on his cigar and ignored her, feeling the carbon monoxide whip over him. "And I thought you told me."
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