Heyyyy guys! Back with another chapter. We're starting off with a little flashback. Hope it gives you some insight on the bands origins and the mindsets of our favorite lil' babies.
Enjoy this chapter and this journey…to the paaaaaast.
—
January 18th, 2021
As she was often want to do, Rose Weasley was fuming.
Her frosty interiors were only amplified by the frigid temperature brought on by melancholy January winds. She hated the cold. Hated soggy boots and red noses. Hated jingle bells and twinkling lights. The whole of it made her feel inexplicably empty inside. She'd rather be filled with something more tangibly exciting…like rage.
Luckily for her, Albus was providing her with ample amounts of anger with which to sample from. She was planning on spending her Saturday laid under piles of parchment with her bed-hangings drawn firmly shut. With her more socially voracious dorm mates traipsing off to whatever vapid weekend engagement they had subjected themselves to, Saturdays were often the only times she ever encountered a moments peace. Outside the Gryffindor common room she had a wealth of overbearing (read-annoying) relatives, and one very needy cousin.
Speaking of said cousin-
"Rosie, please stop the ice-queen routine. I'm the one here who's exclusively allowed to be melodramatic…"
Rose only glared, crossing her arms tighter and sliding down further into the wooden booth they were squeezed into.
She had been dragged to Hogsmede on the pretense of a 'very important announcement'. Something for "The Band", no doubt. Albus had been relentless with the idea of turning their little singer/songwriter duo into something legitimate.
Rose wasn't quite sure how she felt about any of that. With her abysmal marks, and Albus's penchant for internal and external destruction, they'd be lucky if they wound-up with careers shoveling chimera dung for the rest of their lives.
Musician seemed like something whimsically far off; unattainable for someone who wasn't much good at anything. Someone…like her.
"Rosie, come on. This is ridiculous"
Still, ever since his infamous set in the Slytherin common room, the air surrounding the two had changed. Albus was less sullen, less overwrought. Rose was less reserved, less tiresome. Even she couldn't stop the slight tingle that ran down her spine at the thought of where his talent could take the two of them…
"Then tell me why you've brought me here!", she finally snapped, leaning forward and pounding a mitt-ed fist on the table in front of them.
"…I've asked Malfoy to meet with us."
Slight tingle be damned. Rose felt her already churning interiors begin to froth.
"Scorpius Malfoy?"
The foamy corners of Albus's lips quirked sheepishly, "The one and only…"
Rose closed her eyes, willing the tidal wave of emotion to cease it's imminent destruction,
"Why…the fuck…would you ask Scorpius Malfoy to meet with us, Al?"
Albus shrugged, "I want him to join the band."
Rose stood, her mind flitting suddenly to the smug, weaseled countenance of the Malfoy in question. They had rarely had contact with one another, save for a few standard classes. She always regarded him in the same way she did any other of the beautiful elite who happened to grace the same hallowed halls of Hogwarts as her; with disdainful distrust.
"You asked that pretentious, egomaniac, little Slytherin to join our…'band'?", she screeched, throwing two forceful quotations around the word 'band'. The timid musical meanderings of the two barely 15-year-olds could hardly be described as a 'band'.
Al rolled his eyes, "I'm a Slytherin too, you know…"
"Isn't this the same psycho who locked you out of your shared dormitory every night for an entire month? Just for fun?!" Her eyes were practically bulging out of her head.
"We were twelve…And that was more to do with Clayton being a wanker than Malfoy…", he sighed, taking another foamy chug of his butter beer. "He's not like that anymore…"
Rose crossed her arms again, shaking her head in disbelief.
"You saw him at the Christmas show, Rosie! Even you can't deny how insanely talented he is…"
Her mind ran back to the annual Hogwarts recital; whose usual goal was to festively embarrass it's participants and effectively bore it's audience. Scorpius had made a shocking appearance; stunning the crowd with a spirited piano rendition of "Carol of The Bells". He had looked rather blasé during the entire performance, but Rose could sense a slightly pleased and bashful air around him…
It made her distain for him and his snobby posse even greater.
"Oh wow. He can play chopsticks with flourish. That would definitely make it worth the utter humiliation we would endure at his hands.", she said through gritted teeth, "Have you possibly thought that he's agreeing to meet with us so he can give his cronies more ammunition with which to mock us?"
Albus shrugged again, "I haven't. Because we're friends."
"Since when?!"
"Since…I don't know. Things change. He's not like Clayton or Crowley", Albus pushed a lock of jet black hair away from his face, "He's like us."
Rose scoffed, "Hardly."
"He knows music. In a technical way. He's skilled."
"I don't care if he's Mozart incarnate. I refuse to be associated with such a pompous, slimy, arrogant, weasel-faced, little Slyth-"
"-Sorry, am I interrupting something?", drawled a cool voice from behind her.
She turned; coming face-to-face with the very boy she was so ceremoniously bestowing insults upon. She scowled. Narrowed silver eyes matched her own tranquil blues.
"No. I was just leaving.", she huffed; reaching for her bag, "You two have fun."
She was too slow. Albus reached forward and snatched the worn satchel from in front of her.
"Rosie.", His voice carried a slight edge. "Ten minutes. That's all I ask."
She looked to the booth. Scorpius was already making himself comfortable in the seat next to Albus; looking at her with an amused sort of ambivalence.
It made her blood boil.
"Why?", she snapped, "So I can watch you make a fool of yourself? No thank-you. You've barely managed to convince me to run through this maniacal gauntlet with you. I can't imagine the second-hand embarrassment I'll accrue watching you attempt to convince Malfoy to do the same."
Albus was silent; his face twisted with exasperation.
"He's already asked me, Weasley.", Malfoy smirked up at her, "Didn't he tell you?"
She was seeing red.
"No. He didn't.", she glared at him. "I can't imagine why he would keep such crucial information from me. He probably wants me out of his life for good."
"We need him, Rosie." Albus implored. "You and I can only do so much-"
She practically laughed, she could feel the heat of her cheeks glowing red, "We don't need Fur Elise, okay? It's the farthest thing from our sound-"
"I can play five instruments…", sighed Scorpius; the air about his cadence was one of excruciating boredom.
"Liar.", she snipped, turning to him.
He shrugged. He was looking at her with some unreadable emotion. Not quite pity, not quite apathy. Whatever it was, it had the unnerving ability to make her anger begin to dissipate, instantly. Now, she was aware of how childish her outburst seemed.
She closed her eyes, "Sorry- What instruments can you play?"
He sighed again, rolling is eyes to the ceiling, "Piano -you know. Guitar -mostly proficient. Bass -fairly proficient… Drums-"
"-You can play drums?!", Her excitement got the better of her. They were in desperate need of a drummer- one thing her and Al both had the embarrassing inability to master.
"Isn't that what I just said?", He droned; giving her that look again. Still, Rose could see the hint of a smirk behind his lips.
She pursed her own lips, "Alright. That's four. You said you could play five."
A full beat. Smirk appeared. "I do a damn good bash on the triangle."
Oh no. The break of a smile was threatening to crack through her decidedly rage-bent exterior.
How did he do that?
"Fine.", she sighed; rolling her eyes as a means to rectify her almost-grin. She found herself sitting back down in the booth, opposite to Scorpius and Al. "I guess we could see how useful you can be to us…"
He looked at her; the smirk gone. "Oh, useful? And what do you do, Weasley? I can't recall ever seeing you get up on stage…"
Rose's mouth opened; her brows furrowing with disbelief.
"Rose is a gifted lyricist!", cut in Al, sensing the tension, "Truly. -And she's got a lovely voice. Unfortunate bit of stage fright- But we'll get her there…"
"Hmm…", said Scorpius; tapping his fingers on the table, "You wrote the song Al performed a few weeks ago?"
She nodded; her eyes shooting daggers at Albus.
"She's totally brilliant.", Al continued; unaware of Rose's fiery gaze. He reached in her commandeered satchel, pulling out a coveted leather-bound little notebook.
Rose blanched.
"Al, no!", she screeched, getting up from her chair and lunging for him. "Don't!"
Her insides felt like ice. That was her journal. It's where she kept every song, every thought, every feeling…And it was currently being unceremoniously rifled through by pale, clammy boy-hands.
"Give. It. Back.", she said, with every depth of fear she could muster. She stamped her foot on the ground. Neither blonde nor black-haired audience paid her any attention.
"This is her latest…", said Albus, pointing to a freshly inked column of words. 'The Sun & Moon', scratched in hasty ethos at the top. "Take a read. I'm going to grab us a fresh round of drinks…"
Rose coiled with defeat, sinking deeply into the booth. Scorpius had a vice-like grip on her little songbook, and she didn't feel they were at the point in their barely-there acquaintance where she could sensibly do him physical harm. She threw a flame-cheeked face on the table; wrapping arms about in sanctuary. She hated Albus.
If she didn't die of embarrassment once Scorpius had finished tearing her childish scribblings to shreds, she was going to find the nearest body of icy water and drown her cousin in it.
"You wrote this?"
HIs tone startled her. It was soft. Softer than she'd ever heard him speak before. Oh god. It must be really bad. He's trying to find the nicest way of telling me my lyrics remind him of the ramblings of a drunken house-elf.
She nodded, unable to lift her head from her sweater-cloaked shelter.
"Pure poetry…", she heard him say; not a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
She lifted her eyes, squinting in disbelief.
He was back to reading, flipping through the worn pages.
"Oh, please don't…", her voice cracked. "I've barely managed to get through you reading something I have a modicum of pride in…"
He smirked again, "Will I find some simpering declaration of love for one of our esteemed classmates?"
Rose snorted, using his momentary distraction to yank her precious journal back. "Only if you count a rather unfortunate obsession with the portrait of the legless knight on the 8th floor…"
He chuckled, but was silent. She noticed- he wouldn't stop bouncing his leg. He must be so bored right now.
"I like your writing.", he said, after a moment. "You write as if you've experienced many lives…"
She paused, taking in his words. Her body practically rejected the comment; manifesting in a coughing spell that she only barely suppressed.
"Sometimes it's easier to pretend to be someone else.", she was finally able to spit out. Her hands had begun to sweat. When was Albus coming back?
He quirked an eyebrow, "Or maybe- you'd rather be anyone but yourself…"
She found herself laughing at the boldness of his statement. He flushed- surprised by her decidedly amused response.
"Wow, Malfoy. So edgy- Tell me more about my deep, dark soul. Please."
He rolled his eyes, "Okay, okay. No more introspection from me…"
She laughed lightly; the air around them falling into awkward silence once again. She saw him sigh and continue to bounce his leg-this time with more vigor. She wracked her brain for something, anything to say. She was so bad at this.
He cleared his throat. "Where'd all your hair go?"
She blanked at him, "My hair?"
He nodded towards her wool cap. It was currently sheltering a light layer of red fuzz; the cause of which was an impulsive encounter with her step-fathers electric razor while she was home for the holidays.
"Oh.", she said, pulling up the cap and running a hand instinctively through the cropped mane, "Uh- Well. New Years Eve wasn't as delightful as I had originally hoped it would be."
He gave her a dubious look.
"I was bored…", she sighed, sheepishly. "No one invited me to partake in the festivities-"
"-So you chopped all your hair off?", he said, regarding her with a questionable quirk of an eyebrow.
She yanked the cap down past her ears, "Sorry- if my loneliness isn't relatable to you, Malfoy. We can't all be the Belle of the ball…"
"For your information, Weasley…", he countered, giving her an eye, "I spent my New Years Eve alone as well, and I managed to keep all my hairs firmly on my head."
To say his admittance shocked her, was an understatement. She didn't show it, however. She merely shrugged and crossed her arms.
"I suppose you spent the night lain on the floor, weeping and listening to Lily Lachrymose records?"
"Try Bob Dylan…", he snipped, looking up at the ceiling.
She couldn't help the look of shock that came over her features, "Since when does a Malfoy listen to a muggle artist like Bob Dylan?"
His eyes flashed; but he didn't let it show in his tone. "Since… maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do…"
She pursed her lips. She felt strangely foolish, for some reason.
"Tambourine Man is one of my favorite songs…", she said quietly, after a moment. Her eyes were fixed on the knotted wood of the table in front of her.
"Mister Tambourine Man is masterpiece…"
She flicked her eyes up for a moment. The smirk was back on his face, inviting her in. She felt a strange quirk beneath her ribcage.
She rolled her eyes, ignoring his jab and the sudden influx of unfamiliar feeling.
"Your writing reminds me a bit of Dylan…", he said, using that same soft voice from before. "The way the words sort of melt into one another…"
She shifted in her seat, tugging at a fray bit of string coming loose from her jumper.
"Thanks.", she said glibly.
"You two making friends?", a jovial voice called; banging three glasses of butter beer on the table in front of them.
"Attempting-", sighed Rose; refusing to make eye contact with the blonde sitting across from her. She felt as if he had peered into her insides for a moment. It made her feel…uneasy.
They all took generous sips from their mugs.
"She's talented, isn't she?", asked Albus; pointing his mug in the way of his red-headed and red-faced cousin.
"Very much so…", said Scorpius; looking directly at his foamy beverage.
"Brilliant!" cried Al, "What say- We put something a… bit stronger in these drinks and have ourselves a good, ol' fashioned romp around Hogsmeade-"
Rose groaned.
"-To celebrate the forming of the greatest band to ever grace the hallowed halls of Hogwarts- nay… The World!"
The two less-convinced parties of the unlikely trio found each others eyes across the worn table. For some reason, Rose felt that same tingle down the back of her spine; the one she usually got when she allowed herself the luxury of siding with her dream-bent cousin…
She did not know if her future would hold much of the unreadable, mysterious blonde sitting opposite to her. However, there was something nipping in the back of her mind that told her they weren't done with one another… just yet.
When years would ebb, and their lives wound the delicate time-wrought threads that connected the two so succinctly and held them so distinctly apart; Rose would think back on this day with a fond sort-of rebirth.
Even years later, she found it difficult to forget the way the three of them giddily paraded through the streets of Hogsmede; fuzzy with secretly spiked butter-beer. She found it difficult to erase the lightness her heart felt as they sang "Hey Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me.." and pelted one another with dreary clumps of January snow.
She found it especially difficult to dismiss the way her eyes lingered on the pink and orange glimmer of the setting sun as it caught the waxen hairs capping the head of her newly acquired bandmate…
Even now-
"I ask again. What the hell is going on here?"
Their bodies flew from one another; admitting more with the sudden retraction than any words could say.
"I was-"
"She-"
Neither knew what to say. What was going on? As the stark notion of reality barged in on their tiny dream-world, she felt the golden tendrils of their fancy begin to recoil.
Mina's eyes were dark; flitting from Rose, to Scorpius and then back again.
She pointed a velvet-clawed finger at Scorpius, "You are needed back at the party. I've been searching for you two for over an hour. The level of unprofessionalism-"
Rose felt her chest begin to constrict, "Mina, I got sick. He came to help. I-"
She turned from Rose, holding a hand to silence her. "Scorpius needs to be in the great hall, immediately. I don't have time for excuses. Angele and him have been asked to perform- An incredible opportunity- "
She snapped, gesturing for Scorpius to leave the room. He looked genuinely frightened.
"What are we- What song?", he choked out; giving Rose a helpless look. It made her insides turn.
"Anything- It doesn't matter", Mina snapped, "Find Angele and just do your job-"
He exited the room briskly, casting one last sorrowful look in her direction. She could feel the rapid bumping of an increasingly anxious heartbeat.
He left; leaving Rose one-on-one with a set of rapidly darkening eyes.
She made moves to exit the room as well; casting her eyes anywhere but the fearsome presence occupying, but she felt a hand grip firmly around her arm; halting her in her tracks.
Mina's voice was low, "I don't know what game you think you're playing-"
"I'm not- I don't..", she sputtered, feeling trapped.
"I know exactly what I saw, Miss Weasley…", cut in Mina, tightening her grip, "If you think for a moment, I'll let something as trifling as you put a dark smear on the career of my client, you're more foolish than I thought."
Rose opened her mouth in defense, but no words came. She felt as if she had been kicked in the stomach.
Mina pressed in, "Do you have any idea how much money is riding on this pairing? How much work has gone into the success of their tour? Any idea how important this is for both of their careers?"
"..Tom told me I shouldn't worry. That your age factored little into your professional standing. But, I knew he was wrong. I'm shocked you've made it this far with how little you seem to understand about this business…", she smiled cruelly, "But then again- You've always had fame working on your side-"
Rose gasped, yanking her arm away and pulling herself further "Mina, this is unfair! You have no idea-"
"You have no idea, Miss Weasley.", she countered, moving forward. "You should be thanking me. If you stand a chance in the industry at all, you're going to have to sacrifice a few fleeting feelings-"
"-It's nothing like-", she cried, shaking her head vigorously.
"-Do you think their fans are going to want to pay the galleons they've already spent to watch a performance if they discover one of them has a backstage side piece?! Anyone at the party could have seen you. What I saw was bad enough…"
Rose was speechless.
"-Scorpius Malfoy has what it takes to be a genuine star. Do you realize that?", This was the least retrained she had ever seen Mina. "I know you believe your cousin to be your…meal ticket, but Mr. Potter is one wild weekend away from total ruin."
Rose shook her head again, but she could not find the truth to fight Mina's words.
"You know it. I know it. Everyone knows it.", she leaned back, letting Rose sit with the weight of her sentiment.
She felt her resolve harden, refusing to let Mina steamroll her in the way she was so decidedly doing. The magic that had transpired between her and Scorpius only moments prior was quickly losing it's shine.
"You have nothing to worry about, Miss Saito", she sighed; ignoring the slight ache that coursed through her at her own admittance.
Mina's eyes narrowed; pursing her lips at the appropriation of her last name.
"Do not trifle with me.", her voice curled, "You and I are teammates right now. But that could quickly change. I have been in this business longer than you've been breathing."
She moved forward again, crossing her arms with conceit, "I can snap my fingers and you and your friends will be forgotten. Careers over. If you make Angele look foolish- If you make me look foolish, I will not hesitate to end you."
Rose believed her. It took everything in her to maintain the resolute exterior she was fronting. Her insides were shaking; trembling with both fear and anger.
"Like I said-", Rose snapped back, "You have nothing to worry about."
Mina smiled; that same smile that never quite reached her eyes.
"I'm glad we understand one another…"
Rose could only steel her gaze; praying Mina would let her be in peace.
The thin woman brushed past her; the black velvet of her costume aiding in the feeling of "fresh kill" Rose was currently experiencing within her.
Rose let out a deep breath. Mina's heels clacked righteously down the marble hall. There was a pause.
"Oh- and Miss Weasley-", her curling voice called from down the way, "From woman to woman… Aside from the business at hand… Don't waste your time with men like Malfoy…"
Rose turned; the corners of her eyes beginning to smart.
"You may think you're something special to them-", Mina's gaze was like a razor, but there was a slight hint of something else. "But there will always be someone younger, prettier and more inviting waiting in the wings; ready to take your place the second you're no longer interesting. Always."
With her final blow, Mina turned and swiftly walked down the corridor; leaving Rose in a swirling, empty, icy void.
In the span of a single evening, she felt as if she had experienced lifetimes. She could feel the final dregs of the crystal candy leave her system. In it's wake was the unrelenting tidal wave of reality; currently filling her brain and body with dread.
Don't waste your time with men like Malfoy…
She hadn't planned to. Nothing she experienced this evening had been part of her entirely regimented lifestyle. She wished she had stayed home. She wished she had never put on that beautiful gown and taken intoxicating potions and submitted herself to the possibility of the dream that lay buried beneath their silent glances and silly jokes.
She wished she had never known the privilege of being held by those silver eyes; of his fingers resting gently against her own; of the burning, burgeoning beauty that she felt gazing at him from across the room.
She wished Albus had never asked the elusive and enigmatic fifteen-year-old Slytherin to join their scrappy little musical act. She wished they had not grown together. She wished she hadn't watched him become a man who was kind and gentle and funny. She wished they had never been friends. She wished he had not become her best friend; quite without her realizing it. She wished the replay of every laugh, every smile, every fight, every late night, every early morning wasn't currently running at lightening speed through her head.
Because all of it -every truth- made the reality of Mina's words sting in places she didn't realize she could hurt.
With trembling limbs, she trekked back to the main hall. The growing sounds and sights of people made her deadened heart feel even heavier. She could see the crowds of costumed individuals gathering around a small stage; the twang of a guitar finding it's tune amplified through the stone corridors.
"Merci Mesdames et Messieurs…", a small, clear voice giggled into a microphone.
Angele was on stage, looking joyous and radiant; her dress cascading around her in buoyant waves of fabric.
"Je sias…", she looked to her stage partner, "Nous savons…"
Rose's eyes fell on Scorpius. Oh, how it made her insides twist.
"C'est un peu est…", She continued, adjusting the microphone, "A little last minute-"
She laughed, looking again at her stage partner as a means to bring him in on the levity. He smiled at her softly, but turned back to the crowd at hand. It seemed as if he were searching for something…
"This is a song we sing-", she continued -ever the professional, "Un coup de coeur- A favorite…"
He turned back to her, the softness in his eyes and smile returning, "Oui…la chanson a une place spéciale dans mon coeur"
This song has a special place in my heart…
The crowd ate it up. Rose could feel the energy in the room shift; a quiet 'ooh' and 'aww' making it's way through the audience. She was reminded abruptly that everyone viewing was under the impression that the two on stage were blindly in love. Her insides felt frozen.
Angele counted them in softly; the first strum of the guitar crooned.
"Moon River…", The two voices laced together, gorgeously. "Wider than a mile…"
Rose found herself hit by the melody in a way that was incomprehensibly overpowering.
"Thankfully… Angele remembered they had practiced this song before.", a curling voice said in her ear, "Scorpius loves it. There was awhile where they were singing it together almost every day…"
Rose didn't give Mina the benefit of a response. She stood, motionless, watching the duo on stage sing the lyrics in lopping harmonies.
"I'm crossing you in style someday…"
It was the song.
The song they had heard that morning in Paris, while the sun was still rising; before their lives had become so relentlessly complicated. The song that had unknowingly etched his face in the delicate, hidden places of her mind every time she heard it. The song that was the bittersweet, aching melody that called to her during the turbulent and hollowed nightmares where she was trapped in the haunted version of her childhood home.
And he was up on stage, singing it to another girl.
She felt smaller and more insignificant than she had in her entire life. She knew the two of them were nothing more than a constructed fantasy; that Mina's cutting words were meant merely to bend her into submission. But it didn't matter.
As she watched the two put on a lovers show, she realized succinctly where her place in all of this was. Where her place would always be.
There will always be someone younger, prettier and more inviting waiting in the wings; ready to take your place the second you're no longer interesting.
She would not risk her pain. She would not risk her pride.
She was Rose Weasley and he was Scorpius Malfoy. He was beautiful and magnetic and she was…just Rose.
If she was lucky, he'd forget her. He'd run off into the sunset with someone who could keep up with his shining brilliance. She would not lose her career- his career, because of some overtly inebriated fancy.
It was a lie. It was always a lie. It's falsehood glittered like beautiful fractals every time it was faced with the harsh light of reality. They were not meant to be together- they couldn't even try.
As the firmness of her resolve fell around her like sheets of ice; she felt his eyes find her in the crowd. They had lost a bit of their luster.
"Oh dream-maker", Angele sang; calling to the crowd.
"You heart-breaker…", He sang softly. It seemed he was speaking directly to her.
The reality of what she was about to do, of the answer she would firmly and resolutely give, became apparent. She felt something shift inside her.
She felt the taught corners of her throat begin to constrict. She felt her eyes burn brightly. She felt her chest begin to rise and fall rapidly. She felt large, angry tears begin to fill the vacant spaces her eyes usually held. She couldn't stand to look at him any longer.
She pushed past Mina, moving back through the crowd; the tears refusing to cease cascading.
She found her way back into a concealed hall; the rough edges of the wall flush against her palm. She could hear the bittersweet tune crawl and echo through the passage she had run to. Her chest heaved with relentless sobs. Ones she had hidden for twelve years.
She slid down to the floor, unable to stop her eyes from pouring out the secrets she trapped so deeply within her.
She brought her head to her knees; the overflow staining the beautiful silky satin of her periwinkle gown. An apt metaphor- she thought.
She submitted to the emotion, allowing herself to feel the overwhelming state she had gotten herself into. She was in over her head in every capacity. In life, in love, in everything in between.
She wanted to give it all up. She wanted to be fifteen again with her head freshly shaved and the world stretched in front of her. She wanted to say no to Al; to have never laid on that young, pointed face that had grown into the unending source of her current despondency. She wanted to be home. She wanted her mom… She wanted her-
No. That thought was too much. She would not allow herself to go there.
Suddenly, she felt a hand rest gently on her shoulder.
"Rose-hey…", the familiar voice peeked through her solitary crying.
She looked up to see large brown eyes staring back at her.
"Mart-", she sniffed, wiping her eyes furiously, "I'm sorry- I'm- I'm…"
A fresh well of tears filled her eyes; turning the costumed boy in front of her to a fuzzy, orange blob. She had no words. She could not begin to describe what she was doing or why she was doing it.
Fortunately for her, if anyone in the world needed little reasoning as to the actions of others- it was Marty. He simply sat next to her and placed an arm around her shoulder. It seemed he inexplicably already knew.
She shook her head, the drops running in looping divots down the curve of her jaw.
"Why am I crying, Mart?", she said into the tear-stained caps of her knees. "I have so many other things to cry about… Why am I… Over this?"
She looked up. His eyes were flooded with kind sympathy -something she normally would have regarded with distain. Not now. Now, it filled her insides with the watery knotting of helplessness.
"Well…", he said, matter-of-factly; his normal, aimless absence replaced instead with a soft intensity "You love him, Rose. Those are the people that get us the most."
She wanted to fight his reasoning. She wanted to tell him that was an incapable thought, a stupid thought. There was no way she could…
But as she sat against the wall; echo's of a melancholy tune reducing her stony resolve to heartache, she could not fight it. She instead, allowed a heavy head to fall on the fur-clad shoulder of her friend and allowed the last dregs of tears to fall and splash on the floor beside them.
"We're after the same…"
"Rainbows end…"
"Waiting 'round the bend…"
"My huckleberry friend…"
"Moon River…and me…"
—
The worst chapter, I'm so sorry! I promise though, the next chapter is…satisfying.
I hope you guys liked getting a peek into what the characters were like as kids. I love the thought of Rose impulsively shaving her head and growing it out as she and Scorpius grow to know one another. Hair grows, love grows. *cries*
Would love a review! They make my day!
Here's some music for the chapter:
-A Wave Of Goodbyes -Camel Power Club
-Hope She'll Be Happy -Bill Withers
-Salt In The Wound -boygenius
xoxoxoxoxoxoxox
turnnnn