*Would you believe, still not mine? And the song's Joshua's, but I like it…
Damn you for taking me to that concert :-* *
"I wish, I may, I might be the sky 'round your world tonight. Hold your breath and feel your eyes... I look, I glance, I stare. Carrying the dare 'cause we know the truth. Filling up the air with words everyone uses. But our only use is to spell out time until we rhyme. I kiss, I feel, I touch… Wanting very much to be one with you…"- Joshua Kobak -
Chapter Three:
I didn't come out of my half of the curtained off closet for a week. I sat there and played bad chords on my guitar, trying to write a decent song. Mark would occasionally slide a bowl of cereal or some cold pizza in to me. After a couple of days, he would come in and we'd talk. Or, I'd talk and he'd listen to me jabber on. He rarely said anything, but when he did it'd be exactly what I needed to hear exactly when I didn't want to hear it. He's always been like that, I guess, and let me tell you how damned annoying that is. He didn't really try to coddle me then either; he told me I'd fucked up with April and that I had to do more than apologise half assedly if I wanted her to trust me again. Oh yeah, that's easy to say for someone who wasn't caught with his pants down by his, well, kinda girlfriend.
All those talks with Mark kinda helped me clear my head up a little bit. We had a lot more in common than I thought. Both starving artists whose fathers hated what they attempted to do for a living with mothers who weren't any more supportive. I figured out after a while why Mark felt so bad for April; Maureen fucked around on him more than I did on April. Poor kid. That's kinda funny, me calling Mark a kid, he's like two years older than me or something.
I didn't even try to talk to her for two weeks. Didn't think she'd want to see me. Hell, I wasn't even gonna try to talk to her that soon. I had a gig that weekend and, in the break between the sets, I saw her trying to sneak out of the bar.
"Hey, April, wait!" he pushed through the crowd and reached out, grabbing her arm as she slipped to the door.
She looked back and shook her head. "I gotta get going, Roge…" Pulling her arm away, she managed to push through the last five feet and out the door.
Roger stood there and stared, mouth agape for a second, until he felt a clammy hand on his shoulder. His bassist yelled in his ear that they needed to go back on stage, but he shrugged him off and slammed out the door. "April!" he called, running after her. She stopped, still not turning to look at him, and he moved in front of her.
"Wh-what Roger?" she managed, pushing hair out of her face as she looked up at him.
All of a sudden, he felt shy for no apparent reason. He stared down at his feet, shuffling them around on the sidewalk. "I, umm, I want you to stay." It came out quiet, and a lot wimpier than he had intended it to.
She sighed, looking around the block for a means of escape. She found none. With another sharp exhale, she shifted on her feet and then made her way to a bench by an adjacent building. Plopping down, she pulled her legs up underneath herself.
He watched her for a second before moving over and perching on the arm of the bench, facing her. He dug into his pockets and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "H-here," he choked, shoving it into her hands.
Turning it over between her fingers for a minute, she examined it before looking up at him. "What's this?"
His hands suddenly became the most interesting things in the tri-state area. "Just- open it," he mumbled, fingers turning his silver rings. He cast his eyes up slightly, peering at her through the hair that fell to his nose. "It's a… It's a song I've been working on." He paused, looking back down. "For you," he added quickly, stumbling on the words a little bit.
She kept her eyes down after reading it over twice. Clearing her throat, she looked over at him. "I… I like it," she whispered, a slight smile gracing her face.
He looked up quickly and smiled, dimples digging into his cheeks. "You do?" He kept smiling, then looked down at his hands. "Mark… We've been talking a lot since I moved in there. Well, after he got tired of glaring at me and calling me an asshole to the other guys there. He told me I should tell you how I feel…" He motioned to the paper. "That's how I feel."
She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped and looked back over her shoulder when she heard someone calling for him. It was the bassist again. He came over and grabbed Roger's arm, telling him they needed him now.
Roger looked up and nodded, shoving him off his arm. "Gimme five minutes, I'll be right there." The bassist turned and jogged back inside as Roger looked back to April. "Stay… Maybe we can get some coffee or something after this set's done."
She shook her head again. "I should go… I have a test tomorrow and I… I should just go." She stood up quickly, wheeling around to look at him. She dropped the paper in his lap. "Thank you…"
He grabbed her hand and pulled her back as he stood up, crumpling the notebook paper in his free hand. "No! No… I'm not letting you go so easy." Releasing her arm, he looked up at her. She kept staring away from him, and he reached up, turning her chin to look at him. He stared into her eyelids until she looked up, then scanned her eyes with his. Holding up the crunched paper, he shook it slightly as he spoke through clenched teeth. "This… I mean every word of this." He looked away, opening it up and reading it to himself. " 'Wanting very much to be one with you… Discovering the things that we knew were true…' I don't just write shit like this for any girl that walks by me. I don't lock myself in my room for two weeks over every person that thinks I'm a jackass." He frowned and looked up at the sky, running his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry that I'm a fuck up. I know that I'm a fuck up… I know I don't deserve someone like you, someone who's smart and pretty and so not a fuck up like you. I'm not gonna fuck around anymore. I'll prove it to you…" He sighed softly and dropped the paper on the ground, turning and taking a couple of steps back to the club. "I… Good luck on your test. If you need me, I'll be at Mark's…"
She watched him for a minute, then looked at the ground. Bending slightly at the knee, she scooped up the paper and held it tightly in her hand. She glanced to her hand, then back up to him. "I… I love you," she whispered before spinning around and booking it to the subway stop on the corner of the cross street.
His eyes went wide and he whirled around in time to see her descending down the stairs. With a groan, he slammed his fist into the wall of the bar before going back in with bloody knuckles…
I got so high that night. She said she loved me… I don't get how something like that can be both the best and worst feeling of my life at the same time.
"I wish, I may, I might be the sky 'round your world tonight. Hold your breath and feel your eyes... I look, I glance, I stare. Carrying the dare 'cause we know the truth. Filling up the air with words everyone uses. But our only use is to spell out time until we rhyme. I kiss, I feel, I touch… Wanting very much to be one with you…"- Joshua Kobak -
Chapter Three:
I didn't come out of my half of the curtained off closet for a week. I sat there and played bad chords on my guitar, trying to write a decent song. Mark would occasionally slide a bowl of cereal or some cold pizza in to me. After a couple of days, he would come in and we'd talk. Or, I'd talk and he'd listen to me jabber on. He rarely said anything, but when he did it'd be exactly what I needed to hear exactly when I didn't want to hear it. He's always been like that, I guess, and let me tell you how damned annoying that is. He didn't really try to coddle me then either; he told me I'd fucked up with April and that I had to do more than apologise half assedly if I wanted her to trust me again. Oh yeah, that's easy to say for someone who wasn't caught with his pants down by his, well, kinda girlfriend.
All those talks with Mark kinda helped me clear my head up a little bit. We had a lot more in common than I thought. Both starving artists whose fathers hated what they attempted to do for a living with mothers who weren't any more supportive. I figured out after a while why Mark felt so bad for April; Maureen fucked around on him more than I did on April. Poor kid. That's kinda funny, me calling Mark a kid, he's like two years older than me or something.
I didn't even try to talk to her for two weeks. Didn't think she'd want to see me. Hell, I wasn't even gonna try to talk to her that soon. I had a gig that weekend and, in the break between the sets, I saw her trying to sneak out of the bar.
"Hey, April, wait!" he pushed through the crowd and reached out, grabbing her arm as she slipped to the door.
She looked back and shook her head. "I gotta get going, Roge…" Pulling her arm away, she managed to push through the last five feet and out the door.
Roger stood there and stared, mouth agape for a second, until he felt a clammy hand on his shoulder. His bassist yelled in his ear that they needed to go back on stage, but he shrugged him off and slammed out the door. "April!" he called, running after her. She stopped, still not turning to look at him, and he moved in front of her.
"Wh-what Roger?" she managed, pushing hair out of her face as she looked up at him.
All of a sudden, he felt shy for no apparent reason. He stared down at his feet, shuffling them around on the sidewalk. "I, umm, I want you to stay." It came out quiet, and a lot wimpier than he had intended it to.
She sighed, looking around the block for a means of escape. She found none. With another sharp exhale, she shifted on her feet and then made her way to a bench by an adjacent building. Plopping down, she pulled her legs up underneath herself.
He watched her for a second before moving over and perching on the arm of the bench, facing her. He dug into his pockets and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "H-here," he choked, shoving it into her hands.
Turning it over between her fingers for a minute, she examined it before looking up at him. "What's this?"
His hands suddenly became the most interesting things in the tri-state area. "Just- open it," he mumbled, fingers turning his silver rings. He cast his eyes up slightly, peering at her through the hair that fell to his nose. "It's a… It's a song I've been working on." He paused, looking back down. "For you," he added quickly, stumbling on the words a little bit.
She kept her eyes down after reading it over twice. Clearing her throat, she looked over at him. "I… I like it," she whispered, a slight smile gracing her face.
He looked up quickly and smiled, dimples digging into his cheeks. "You do?" He kept smiling, then looked down at his hands. "Mark… We've been talking a lot since I moved in there. Well, after he got tired of glaring at me and calling me an asshole to the other guys there. He told me I should tell you how I feel…" He motioned to the paper. "That's how I feel."
She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped and looked back over her shoulder when she heard someone calling for him. It was the bassist again. He came over and grabbed Roger's arm, telling him they needed him now.
Roger looked up and nodded, shoving him off his arm. "Gimme five minutes, I'll be right there." The bassist turned and jogged back inside as Roger looked back to April. "Stay… Maybe we can get some coffee or something after this set's done."
She shook her head again. "I should go… I have a test tomorrow and I… I should just go." She stood up quickly, wheeling around to look at him. She dropped the paper in his lap. "Thank you…"
He grabbed her hand and pulled her back as he stood up, crumpling the notebook paper in his free hand. "No! No… I'm not letting you go so easy." Releasing her arm, he looked up at her. She kept staring away from him, and he reached up, turning her chin to look at him. He stared into her eyelids until she looked up, then scanned her eyes with his. Holding up the crunched paper, he shook it slightly as he spoke through clenched teeth. "This… I mean every word of this." He looked away, opening it up and reading it to himself. " 'Wanting very much to be one with you… Discovering the things that we knew were true…' I don't just write shit like this for any girl that walks by me. I don't lock myself in my room for two weeks over every person that thinks I'm a jackass." He frowned and looked up at the sky, running his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry that I'm a fuck up. I know that I'm a fuck up… I know I don't deserve someone like you, someone who's smart and pretty and so not a fuck up like you. I'm not gonna fuck around anymore. I'll prove it to you…" He sighed softly and dropped the paper on the ground, turning and taking a couple of steps back to the club. "I… Good luck on your test. If you need me, I'll be at Mark's…"
She watched him for a minute, then looked at the ground. Bending slightly at the knee, she scooped up the paper and held it tightly in her hand. She glanced to her hand, then back up to him. "I… I love you," she whispered before spinning around and booking it to the subway stop on the corner of the cross street.
His eyes went wide and he whirled around in time to see her descending down the stairs. With a groan, he slammed his fist into the wall of the bar before going back in with bloody knuckles…
I got so high that night. She said she loved me… I don't get how something like that can be both the best and worst feeling of my life at the same time.