A/N: Chapter four! Woo! I'm really really really sorry for the delay, I know its been like… three(ish) months since the last chapter, and I really don't have much of an excuse, except for the fact that I just didn't want to type up the chapter. It was already written, its been written for ages now, I just haven't finished typing it up til now. Once again, I'm really sorry, but here it is! Also, I'll put a picture to the dress that I used as inspiration for Specs on my profile – well the link to it anyways.
Thank you for sticking with this story for so long, through all the waits and stuff – I can't tell you how grateful I am.
Also, this chapter has not been beta'd – my usual beta is on holiday with no wifi or laptop to beta this on, and my two backups are MIA (well not really, ones camping and the others also on holiday.
Disclaimer: I don't own Starship or any of the characters, excepting Mrs Bently and any other OC's that might crop up. The rest belongs to Team Starkid
Enjoy!
It was 3:30. In the library. At their special table in the back corner. He knew it was hopeless – he knew she wouldn't come. He really had blown it this time.
Tomorrow was prom, and then they would both be gone, probably never to see each other again.
Krayonder sighed in frustration and began to pack up his books when he heard a set of footsteps coming towards him. Looking up he allowed himself a small smile as Mrs Bently approached the table.
"She didn't come." He said, "She never does anymore." He sighed and sat down again, putting his face in his hands. "I don't know what to do, Miss! I've tried everything – but nothing works!" Krayonder sighed, "I can't do anything right, can I?"
Mrs Bently smiled and held up a small, yellow note, "Well you must have done something right dear – she left this here for you."
She placed the note on the table, before walking away with a small, knowing smile.
Krayonder stared after the old woman, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion before picking up the piece of paper. The message written on it wasn't long – short and to the point.
"Midnight. I'll be the one in green."
Seven words. Not much – practically nothing. But that didn't stop Krayonders heart from soaring at the words written in her familiar loopy, slightly messy handwriting. Nothing could spoil tomorrow night. Nothing.
Krayonder didn't know how wrong he really was.
0oooOOOOooo0
3 hours. She'd been sitting there for three hours.
Specs was sitting on a chair in front of a vanity table, while February poked and prodded at her hair and face with little brushes and powders and sprays and a host of other things Specs had never heard of until this afternoon. She pulled a face as the blonde yanked a straightener through her curly hair.
"Like, I don't understand why you don't do this more often." February said as she continued attacking Specs hair with that blasted straightener, "You would, like, look amazing!" She gushed.
Specs sighed, "I don't understand why you're doing this for me." She said quietly, looking down at her hands folded in her lap, "You never so much as glanced at me before yesterday."
February looked at her confused, "But I talked to you last week during that weird class with the silver gizmos."
Specs chuckled, "I meant since last week."
February nodded and continued working, the previous question already forgotten.
"But why the sudden interest in me?" Specs asked again, rewording slightly.
February moved around to the front of the auburn haired girl and began fiddling with her still slightly curly fringe, "Every girl deserves to look beautiful for prom." She says like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
Specs blinked back tears at the blonde's words, unable to form a response. Swallowing the tears after a moment of silence, she whispered a small "Thank you," before falling silent again. February just smiled, before turning back to her hair.
0oooOOOOooo0
Krayonder smoothed down his suit and picked up his trademark camouflage cap. He knew he would look like a dork, but he didn't feel right not wearing it. And hey – he looked like a dork anyways.
Giving his reflection a small smile, he pulled the cap onto his head and, turning it to face behind him. Tomorrow he would be leaving all this behind, possibly forever.
He felt the small flutter of nervous butterflies in his stomach as he walked to the door. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and walked out into the corridor, towards the gym. Towards his fate.
Or maybe his doom.
He still had at least another hour before she arrived, but Krayonder didn't want to miss her. He'd missed her enough this past week.
The gym had been decked out in colourful balloons, sparkling disco balls and rainbow streamers, a long table covered in a white table cloth had platters of food and bowls of punch resting on its sparkle covered table top. Music pounded in his ears through the speakers mounted on the walls.
She wasn't here yet, he could tell as soon as he walked in the room. Sighing, he walked over to the punch bowl, poured himself a drink, and waited.
0oooOOOOooo0
"There." February's hands left her hair and turned her around in the chair to face the floor length mirror.
The woman in the mirror was beautiful, amazing – alien almost. She had hair that fell down straight around her shoulders with a sparkling lime green ribbon tied around her head, light pink cheeks and shining green eyes. She was wearing a long emerald green dress with a fitted bodice embezzled with slightly transparent leaf green rhinestones. The skirt stretched out around her ankles twisting and ruffling out around her legs, little rhinestone gems scattered over the ruffled silk fabric glittering in the light as she twirled, laughing in delight as the skirt splayed out around her ankles.
The woman in the mirror wasn't Specs. It couldn't be.
"T-t-thank you, February." Was all Specs could manage to say.
The blonde girl smiled as she packed up the products, "I may be blonde, but if there's anything I can do, its tell when someone's in love. You need this. You both do. Because it may be your last chance."
Specs's head flicked around, her eyes wide, "What do you mean 'love'?" She asked sharply.
February looked at her confused, "You don't know? Come on, it's obvious how much he loves you!"
Specs almost stopped breathing, her heart in her throat. Loved her? No, it wasn't possible. He could love her, she thought incredulously, blinking rapidly, I mean, it's just not possible!
Shaking her head, Specs walked away from the mirror and towards the door, "I'm going to go now." She announced, hand on the door handle, "Thank you again February. I don't think I've ever looked so…."
"Beautiful." February finished, smiling gently, "Now go get him girlfriend."
Specs smiled at the girl. She really was much smarter than anyone gave her credit for, even herself. Opening the door, Specs made her way down the now empty corridors, towards the dance, her heels clacking on the cool metal floor.
It was time to come face to face with Fate. And she wasn't going empty handed.
0oooOOOOooo0
Fate leaned back against his swively chair. He was rather fond of his swively chair, made controlling people's lives so much more fun, meant he could swing from one life to another with so much ease and Fate quite liked swinging so-
Sorry, back to the story.
Over the past year, he had watched both Daniel Krayonder and Julia Thompson grow and mature. They had discovered so much about both themselves, each other, and their capacity to love.
As he watched the young woman walk to the dance an hour early, he had an epiphany. Fate had missed something.
Both Krayonder and Specs had never believed in a concept like "Fate", and yet – they had both become puppets, dolls in Fates grand scheme, and their part was almost over.
Well, their first part.
Sighing, Fate sat forward and, fingers flying over the keys, pressed a string of buttons: blue, red, grey, red, red, orange. One long pale finger hovered over the last key. The bright green button, glowing amidst the sea of colours. Pressing the button, he let the pair out of his grasp and left their live sup to them for the first time since that day in the corridor, almost exactly 365 days beforehand.
Fates mind was now focused on a different pair, away in Mexico – a fifteen-year old girl being strung up like a piñata and a man, five years older, hiding behind a fallen piece of rubble. This pair would play and much larger part in the turning of this universe. They just didn't know it yet.
0oooOOOOooo0
So what do you think? I already have a planned ending – in fact, its already been written, just not typed. I'm not gonna try and garuntee a publishing date, because you all know how shoddy I am at updating stuff, but I will try to get it up as soon as possible.
Please review!