Title: Bittersweet
Author: Nightmyr
Summary: Life is changing for introverted Talia: she no longer likes her life-long best-friend, but doesn't know how to break off the friendship; the band for which she plays bass has started to get recognition, but they're not playing the type of music they love; she's caught the interest of an extroverted guy named Vince, but doesn't quite know how to react to the attention or how to reciprocate.
Rating: R
Status: Work in Progress
Started: November 4, 2001
Myr's comment: This fic may seem familiar to some readers, and that would be because it is a re-write. I now have a wonderful beta (SCSPaine) who is helping me re-capture my Vince muse. All feedback is welcome and appreciated.
Bittersweet
Chapter 1
I hesitated slightly and Syd, with her hands on my hips, practically pushed me through the door. "Come on Talia, move that ass." She said teasingly, emphasizing the last word with a pat to my rear.
The noise level was frighteningly high; I could feel bass vibrations traveling across the floor and through my bones, I could visualize decibels filtering through my inner ear causing the hammer to drum away furiously. It seemed as though every piece of electronic equipment in the house was powered; all the lights were on, a videogame competition was being showcased on television, Rap music was blaring through the stereo, and somewhere, someone was playing with an electric guitar.
There were lots of people dancing, drinking, and making-out shamelessly. These were obviously individuals not only comfortable being themselves, but also flaunting it. Syd fit right in; with her perfect body and all its desirable curves, with her perfect makeup and hair that took over an hour to apply and arrange, with her perfect sense of style that never failed to make people take notice of her. All right, so I'm exaggerating to prove a point. I know she's a far cry from perfection (the quintessential question being: what is perfection?), but when she's surrounded by the right crowd her flaws seem to disappear and I end up sticking out like a sore thumb.
I didn't want to be there, but that's me and Syd for you. We're childhood friends; the relationship where the two individuals have grown apart to the point of not even liking each other anymore, but their hearts just can't seem to let go. We drive each other crazy, but at least we know our hearts are in the right place. So all this - never saying goodbye - leads us to constantly drag one another into situations where one of us is uncomfortable, all to please the other. It's a vicious circle, a circle of guilt on my part anyway.
Syd hardly has any friends, I mean real friends; acquaintances she has by the score. I'm pretty much IT for her. I'm the one she calls in the middle of the night when no one awake is willing to listen to whatever thoughts are flitting through her mind at the time. I'm the one she spills out her heart to. In fact, I think I'm the only one that's ever seen her cry. Some might say it's nice to be IT for someone; their one and only best-friend. I don't find it nice. Sometimes I downright hate it. Being her IT makes me feel ashamed, because she's not my IT anymore. Sometimes I say things to her and think things about her that a good friend shouldn't and wouldn't say or think. But what really makes it unbearable is that she always forgives me, even when I don't ask for forgiveness. So, if she comes to see me when I'm with my friends, makes herself uncomfortable for a few hours for the simple 'pleasure' of being with me, I feel guilty. And, of course, I have to repay her in kind if I want the vise around my heart to loosen its grip.
Today my friends and I had a gig; a horde of bands getting together for a big concert in the park to celebrate the beginning of summer and the accompanying freedom. We're a punk band, not our choice of music or style, but apparently Punk is what we're good at. I think it has something to do with our vibe; we're too playful, and don't have enough bitterness to successfully render Alternative Rock. Which is ironic (seeing as our name is Bitter), but not really, since the inspiration for our name didn't stem from the emotion, but rather from an argument about dark chocolate. It never fails either; no matter how depressing the lyrics may be, we just come across sounding perfectly delighted.
We have a pretty big following considering that we're still 'underground'. Technology and the Internet have done wonders in that department; we even have fans in Tokyo! And none of it is of our doing either; it's our fans here that started the epidemic by bootlegging our shows and sending them over the Net to their friends, wherever they might live. After shows, people kept asking us for more information, whether it was for personal details or for more concert dates and locations, so a few months ago we finally set up a website, nothing big; one of those free web-hosts. Music is only our hobby after all; we hold no delusions of making it in the 'biz', we're all in university on quests for solid degrees in business management, actuarial science, electrical engineering, architecture, and pharmacology.
Syd came to see our show. She came to a Skater Punk concert in the park dressed in a tight black miniskirt with slits a tad too high, an unbuttoned blouse (just enough to show her lacy bra underneath), and black spike heeled boots. Saying that she got a few curious sideways glances is an understatement. In fact, I'm pretty sure a few girls even asked her if she was lost, or needed help looking for some safety pins to keep her clothes from coming undone any further. So I felt guilty again. That's how I ended up at a party where I didn't want to be; she wanted to be there, and she wanted me there with her.
Syd removed her hands from my hips to grab for my right hand when she noticed that my apprehension wasn't going away. I always dreaded being at the parties she dragged me to. I never fit in. Not that I ever really tried to either. In my normal clothes I could easily get away with passing unnoticed, park myself in a spot and not move the whole night without drawing any undue attention, but I was still in my skater punk clothes from the concert; sneakers, big, baggy cargo pants, and a long, black t-shirt that reached mid-thigh. The shirt had a design of a smug guy on his skateboard on the front, and the same guy bleeding from his knees and elbows on the back, with the word 'Amateur' written in bold white letters across my butt. My only accessories: a bunch of thread-bracelets that crawled up my forearm, as well as a few strings around my neck. My makeup was even less striking seeing as I had wiped off all the excess muck after the show. Yes, it's quite a sad fact that makeup turns to muck after a mere 40 minutes of sweating on stage.
She pulled me in the direction of the living room where girls, even less dressed than Syd, were dancing seductively if not provocatively. Then, as an arm circled her waist, she was pulled away and the grip on my hand vanished. He held her close to his side as he dragged her to the other end of the room, and sat her in his lap once he was seated in a comfy armchair. He wore dark blue jeans and a maroon mesh tank top over another green army camouflage one; his heavily tattooed and muscular arms fully exposed. I glared at him.Who does he think he is? But when Syd looked at him she was totally at ease and laughed.So, obviously, they know each other.I suddenly felt even more estranged. Syd looked at me with an expression that seemed to say 'I'm sorry' and shrugged her shoulders. He noticed her movements and looked in my direction.Probably trying to figure out who's stealing her attention away from his worship-worthy physique.Even with my thoughts dripping of sarcasm, I had to be honest with myself and admit that his body was indeed lust-inducing, but in no way would I let that affect my judgment. His harsh gaze met mine and immediately looked me up and down. I could read his eyes; he was thinkingWhat the hell are you doing here, sure you got the right party?I wanted to dismiss that look, but it aggravated me, and the only thing I could think was:Bite me!