Huge A/N ahead... BEWARE.
Sometimes, I like to go back and read my story from beginning to now to get the feel of it and, to sound as narcissistically Tommy as possible (ha!), sometimes I freak myself out. When I write, I just go at it. I have the initial concept for the chapter, a few things I want it to lead to, etc. but nothing is set in stone. I never really pre-write anything – what you see in the chapter is what I've typed off the head in Word. (I think this is why it often takes me forever to write a new chapter.) But dammit, boy. Sometimes I just correlate stuff w/o realizing it. (Like the last chapter, where I had Georgia say something about concrete evidence and ended it with "Concrete.") I went back like an hr later and was like, "DAMN. I so didn't realize I did that." (Why am I telling ya'll this? I guess because I can.) It freaks me out. It's like a drug that sends you into a trance – no thought just typing – and I dunno. It just... happens. LOL
As for my chapter titles, those are funny buggers. I tend to ALWAYS have music going when I write. In the beginning it was the IS sdtrk, then it was Alanis then Sister Hazel, Matchbox 20, Lloyd & Ashanti (Southside Bargaining Chip), and now random trance stuff. The last chapter was a line from Alizée's "Moi Lolita". (It didn't dawn on me that it translated into a Jude line. It now dawns on me the whole J/T thing and Alizée's song have eerie Nabakovian correlation. DAMMIT.) How strange.
Now, about the story so I can shut up: Things are about to get twisted and twisted fast. Be ready for a cruel twist of fate for our two lovers. (No, no one dies. I hate stories like that; they make me feel empty. Haha) But yes – things aren't going to be smooth sailing & we have NOT heard the end from Sadie. We'll get into her head a little bit – think "showdown".
As always, thank you for your lovely comments. I enjoy them, especially since they've been so long lately. It shows ya'll actually read my story and like it for real. I feel LOVED. Hehehe...
But yes... MUSH, GIRL!
PS: My boss calls me "girl". It always makes me chuckle.
Chapter 17 / You're the Killer, Make Me Smile
They're outing had been as perfect as it could have been. They went back to the café, trying to avoid the odd stares of the barista working the bar. They laughed at the new joke Kwest would taunt them with, talked jovially about their feelings and where they wanted to take Jude's newest song, had plural moments of slights of hands, knees, and smiles. It made them feel alive to feel so happy.
They made their way quietly, haphazardly hand-in-hand, towards the studio, eager to get to work regardless of their day-pass. They didn't notice Victoria's car. They didn't notice Victoria and Georgia leave Georgia's office as they walked inside. They didn't notice they were still holding hands until the damage had been done.
"Mom!"
"Mrs. Harrison..."
Victoria gave them the once-over, noticing how they quickly let go of the other's grasp, searching for new places to put them. Her teeth ground against each other.
"Jude. Tommy." A sneer was beginning to paint itself onto the tired features of the woman.
"Mom, what are you doing her?"
"I came to talk to Georgia. Mind telling me where you two have been?" Her eyes bore into Tommy.
"Coffee." Tommy took a half-step away from Jude, her eyes lowering to the floor as she swayed back and forth. He was getting tired of being interrogated every time he was "caught" by the likes of her mother. "You know; artists tend to drink a lot of it when they have writer's block."
"Yeah, sure." Victoria cocked her head to look at her daughter. "And the hand holding? Another remedy for writer's block, right?"
"Mom, let's do this later." Jude stopped her shuffling, staring at her mother indignantly. "You can yell at me then." Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits, to the point everything went fuzzy.
Methodically, they all walked towards each other. The staring competition was fierce as was the tension. They seemed to dance in a tango of unspoken hostility, making their rounds of glances.
"I told you to stay away from her."
Rage was beginning to makes it way from Tommy's core, radiating to every extremity of his body. Where did she get off? Where the hell did she get off talking to him, Tom Quincy, like some... child? He would do as he fucking pleased. He regretted ever pacifying the woman.
"I don't have to listen to you, Victoria." He pushed his tightening fists into his denim pockets; he tried to control his instinctive urges to break something. "Besides, I wasn't doing anything. I'm her producer, if I have to remind you of that, and sometimes I have to find ways to get my people to open up. Productivity and all."
Tensions were mounting to unprecedented heights. Georgia had stayed at her door, watching the show take place, and while she didn't know what Victoria would do if it continued to escalate, she knew Tommy. He wouldn't hurt her, but he'd destroy the inside of G Major. She walked briskly to the center of the conflict, staring the two parties down.
"Here's an idea: you two settle this off of my clock. Tom, I'm not paying you to argue with Jude's mother and Mrs. Harrison, we've already talked. I told you I could handle things."
Tommy backed away, siding with Jude. Victoria coolly threw back her shoulders and smiled sardonically. She didn't say a word as she made her way towards the door. She turned curtly, facing the audience.
"Just remember, Tom – you are her producer. Let's keep this in here." She pushed the door open and left.
Tommy huffed disdainfully. "I swear to god, that woman will one day..."
"Tom, in my office. NOW." Jude looked up fearfully, long forgotten in the quarrel-torn studio. She met Georgia's face trying to read it for any sign that this wouldn't turn out bad. That she just wanted to clear the air and quite possibly, discuss nothing more than business. Hopes fell. It didn't look like Fate loved her right now.
Tommy gave Jude a quick stroke down her back for reassurance, following Georgia into her office. He turned at the frame, nodding at the girl in near tears. He sighed as he closed the door to the previous confrontation.
Georgia paced behind her desk, Tommy feeling uneasy at the uncertainty of the discussion that would happen. Dammit, Georgia. Sit down. She didn't catch his telepathy, but stopped to stoop over her desk. She stared at him in a way he wasn't familiar with.
"I really don't want to know. That's my take on this whole thing, but for what it's worth? She wants your blood."
"Georgia, nothing is-" She held up her hand, cutting off any explanation or protest. She gave him a look of pure wisdom.
"As I said, I don't want to know. I trust that you'll make the right decision in all of this. But keep this in mind, Quincy – I control what goes on in my studio; I cannot control what happens outside of these walls. If anything is going on with you and Jude, cool it. Most people aren't as understanding as I am, but even I have my limits."
His face fell slightly. "I gotcha."
"You can go." She turned her back towards him, rummaging through the large credenza behind her. Tommy left without saying a word.
Jude sat on the couch, looking up at him expectantly. He couldn't bear to look at her. Cool it, she'd said. He knew what it meant – people were on to them. He'd have to push her away; he'd have to hurt her; he'd have to turn away from the one thing that made him feel whole. His chest hurt at the thought. They finally were going toward the light but, as always, something was yanking them back into darkness.
The Tommy in him said run while he could; break things quickly and avoid her face until he cracked again. The Tommy in him said that ending everything would be best. The Tommy in him said that they'd have another chance at another time and this was right. The Tom in him was defiant. The Tom in him wouldn't be the scared little boy running from his feelings. The Tom in him would remain at the side of the justice of his peace. He would be a grown man for once in his damned life. A grown man with a child, Quincy...
Jude broke him free from his inner prosecution.
"Tommy, is everything ok? What did Georgia say?" Her voice, the voice that lullabies were made for; the voice that soothed his aching soul; the voice that killed the Tommy in him. He smiled warmly.
"Everything's ok. Come here." He helped get her to her feet, enveloping her in the tightest hug he could ever possibly deliver. He dropped his face into her hair, inhaling the honey milk scent that could drive him to the moon. "I love you..."
He made his decision.