Hey everybody! I'm SO sorry, I'm horrible for not updating sooner, but things have been TERRIBLY busy for me. Thanks to harryrulesmyworld, topazchick08, LordofDarkness2099, MysteriousReviewer, Beaumont's Lament, Periphery (YES, he's a guy Will likes, in response to your review), GrrArgh, and strayphoenix for reviewing, and Adiatu & Yuki3x3 for reviewing BFF? I'm VERY pleased to report that I have a lot of surprises in store for this story, so on to Chapter 5!
Disclaimer: NO, I don't own W.I.T.C.H.
Chapter 5
The Writer and I
A box of turquoise colored contacts clattered to the floor as Irma stumbled, knocking into her dresser in a very sad attempt to collapse onto her bed. A feeling of intrigue had her in its death-grip, clinging no matter how she tried to wash it from her mind. It had all started when she was walking up the Olsen's driveway…
Flashback
Irma listened to the bing-bong of the Olsen's doorbell, hand resting on her hip, waiting rather impatiently for one of the guys to haul their ass off the couch and open the door for her. Her finger was ready to jab it again when she heard the sound of a garage door sliding up, up, and open.
"Irma?" The ex-water maven turned to face the very surprised voice of a very surprised redheaded drummer.
"Hey to you too, Paul," Irma said, hopping down the steps and landing in front of him. Paul had been Irma's best guy friend for what seemed like forever. They went way back…back to kindergarten, actually, right when Irma had been released from her corner after her very first blowout with Cornelia. But that's another flashback for another time.
"You're the girl singing backup for us?" he asked, expression disbelieving.
"Well, I'm no Karmilla, but still…"
"No, it's just I thought you'd be out forging that solo career you've been buzzing in my ear about for the last ten years, not sticking yourself in the background of some boy band."
"Yeah, well, that solo career's on backburner until my French grade magically racks up from a C to an A, according to stepmother dearest."
"You think you'd get used to her after eleven freaking years, but here you are, proving me wrong."
"As I always do," she quipped back. "So where's the rest of this boy band?"
"Catching the last twenty minutes of the football game, which I really need to get back to. So while we're doing that, our backup guitarist is gonna come out and warm you up. His name's Joel, and he's not much for talking, just FYI. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go cheer on Heatherfield." Irma nodded, watching the door to the house close behind him. She leaned against the door and waited…and waited…and waited.
The sound of her foot tapping against the ground in pure impatience got really old, really fast. But before Irma could bang her fist against the conveniently nearby drum set, something stopped her hand, frozen in mid-swing. She thought she could hear a guitar, strumming a familiar tune as a soft voice sang along…a soft voice that she could barely hear, a fact that driving her mad. Candracar could take away her powers, but that ever-famous attitude would stick forever.
Browning grass crunched as Irma hightailed around the house, curiosity driving her into the backyard. Her eyes fell into the horizon, the horizon that happened to be housing a figure, turned toward her, blonde hair falling into his face as he hunched over his guitar. Irma could see his lips moving in time to the tune he strummed, and she moved closer, straining to hear his voice.
"Did that really just happen? Have I actually understood?" Irma moved a few steps closer, his voice drawing her in as she tried in vain to hear it clearly. "This weird quirk I've tried to suppress or hide, is a…" He trailed off, screwing up his still-hidden face as he worked his mind to remember the rest of the verse. Irma smiled, taking this as her cue to introduce herself, however strange the introduction might have been.
"Talent, that could help me meet the Wizard…if I make good." The boy's head shot up as Irma's voice cut clear through his silence. A pair of mystified auburn eyes searched her falsely blue ones. Irma just grinned through this show of panic. "So I'll make good," she finished, holding the last note out for good measure.
The boy just stared at Irma, a slight tinge of pink creeping up into his face. Irma had the fleeting thought that he was embarrassed, but brushed it off, trying words instead. "Not exactly your song," she started, thinking back to his name on the cast list next to Dr. Dillamond. "But you sing it well. Think you could give me some pointers?" The boy, Joel, she guessed he was, just nodded his head. 'Right, not much for talking.' "So…I guess I should warm up?" she tried. He nodded again, letting his fingers fly over the strings…
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While Irma recounted her tale of the night, a stream of very questionable threats was pouring from the otherwise graceful lips of Cornelia Hale as she chased after Lillian, her blonde hair fanning out behind her in her quest to reclaim her curling iron.
"LILLIAN HALE FOR THE LAST TIME THAT THING IS NOT FOR CAT FUR!" The earth girl plucked the iron from her little sister's hands, giving the family cat, Napoleon, some time to scamper away. After the 'terror of a five year old' (as Cornelia loved to refer to her) was safely shut in her room, Cornelia stalked back to her own, shoving the plug into the nearest outlet and waiting for the iron to heat up. Her eyes wandered around the room…right over to where a beautiful vase stood on her dresser, a vase that used to hold a luminous lily…
She sighed angrily, closing her eyes tight. She was thinking about him again. No matter how she wished his face away, those emerald eyes, that auburn hair, those stripes across his face.
Caleb.
Her eyes began to ache with welled-up tears. He was alive, he was so close…and then he offered himself to a world away from her. She couldn't be angry with him, only at the world for dividing a love she so desperately craved. I wonder if he misses me…
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"All right guys, I think we've got enough to go on." Irma let a wave of relief wash over her as Matt closed their recording session. "Thanks for the vocals, Irma. We'll send this in and let you know if we get word from a company." Irma nodded and said you're welcome, moving to walk out of the garage and start for home, when she felt Matt's hand on her shoulder.
"Hey, Joel," Matt called over his shoulder. "Walk Irma home, will you?" Joel nodded, brushing a strand of blonde hair out of his face as he set down his guitar and came up on the other side of Irma. "Have fun, you two." And before Irma could protest that she was a big girl and could take care of herself, Joel took her hand and started pulling her off toward the sidewalk.
"What'd you do that for?" Irma blurted intelligently. Joel just shook his head, smiling for the first time since Irma had seen him. She found she liked it when he smiled.
"I did want to get you home before Christmas," he quipped quietly. "You seem like the kind of person who doesn't let things go too quickly."
"And you'd know that because you know me oh-so-well, is that right?" Irma couldn't help but feel a surge of joy shoot through her. She was coming back. Slowly but surely, she was coming back. And if sarcasm had to be what drew the old Irma back out, so be it.
"Well, maybe not now, I don't…" he trailed, leaving the rest up to Irma's imagination.
"So Matt did a pretty good job penning that song, huh?" Irma said, changing the subject.
"Actually," Joel said, "That was me."
"You wrote that?" Irma made no effort at all to hide her surprise. That song was so…edgy. From what Irma could see, this Joel guy was everything but Mr. Let's Rock Out.
"Yeah," he murmured, modesty in his voice. "I write all our songs, except for when some girl sways Matt to jot her a drippy love song."
Irma laughed a little. She opened her mouth to keep the conversation afloat, but the light of a streetlamp brought her house into her line of sight. "Well, thanks," Irma finally settled on, starting up the walk. Joel nodded, disappearing off down the street with nothing but a smile on his face.
And as Irma grew closer and closer to her front door, she couldn't help but ask herself the question she'd had in mind for him: "So why don't you pen those drippy love songs?"
Irma wrapped the contacts in a tissue and threw it away, resting her head on a pillow as her thoughts came to a stop on Joel. She thought for a minute, then closed her eyes, but not before saying: "Nah, too quiet."
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Finally. Cornelia gazed into her bedroom mirror, smiling at the glistening blonde curls that tumbled down her back. Goodbye, all seriousness. Hello, Miss Galinda. The earth goddess took one more look at her success before settling into sleep. Her dreams took on a familiar face, and this time, it wasn't fury she felt as she thought.
I wonder if he misses me.
Good? Bad? Tell me when you review! 26 & I'll update! By the way, check out LordofDarkness2099's story because it is AMAZING. Be sure to leave them a review or two! Don't worry, Caleb will come into this story eventually. By the way, this takes place after book 15, before book 16, so Nerissa hasn't happened yet (just in case anyone was confused)
