Memories That Fade Like Photographs (But Some Things, You Just Can't Forget) [[Gabilliam SA]]
Title: Memories That Fade Like Photographs (But Some Things, You Just Can't Forget) [[Gabilliam Standalone]]
Author: cnopbl (posted from writing LJ)
Pairing/band: William x Gabe (The Academy Is... & Cobra Starship)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Pfft, this is totally real. I totally own both Will and Gabe. Mmhm. I'm also Jesus.
Summary: You never know how much you truly miss someone until they're gone. William has decided to illustrate his feelings in a letter.
Warnings: A lot of sad, lovey stories. A little tear-worthy, perhaps? Beware, it can bring a mood down.
Notes: Got this idea when I read a fic called My Mistakes Were Made For You by the EVER-LOVELY stupidrhapsody. Check her out, guys, she's talented. 'Memories That Fade Like Photographs' is the title of a song by All Time Low, the rest of the title is my own.
((THIS IS NOT BETA'D. I DIDN'T FEEL LIKE RUNNING IT THROUGH WITH ANYONE. SO SORRY FOR ANY MISTAKES THAT HAVE BEEN MADE.))
Sunday, March 28, 2010
11:36 PM
Dear Gabe,
You'd be so proud of me, Gabanti. I wrote a whole album today. It's a lot like what Cobra Starship used to do, I think. It's more bouncy that what I usually write and a lot less heartbroken. I wrote it for you, Gabanti. This is what I'd like to call your 'musical memorial'. Thinking about it now, that sounds really, really cheesy. But I did it because I missed you.
We've already had the memorial service, the burial, everything. We had it a few months ago, and god, it seems so close. It only feels like it was yesterday, Gabanti, that this all came flooding over all of us. The day that you left us.
Of course, you know that you left us. If you didn't know, I would question how much you had really been drinking in your lifetime. Of course, I would be joking. You don't drink as much as everyone says you do. But you know that, right?
I remember one time in the park, Gabanti. We were sitting on a bench and giggling at the birds. It was on our downtime, I remember, on a beautiful spring day. The way your arm fit around my neck and the way we fell into stitches just laughing at each others laughs. The way you yelled at the ice cream guy in Spanish just because you thought it was fun. The way we were teetering on the edge of the bay and the way you almost pushed me in. In a way, it was just a normal day to us, something that we thought we would do for the rest of our lives. I never thought that they would mean so much to me now.
All of the memories I have of us mean so much to me. I cry every day, Gabe. I don't let them see me cry. I bite my lip on stage. My stutter gets worse when I hold my tears back --- Sisky told me that. And every time I do I remember when you used to make fun of me for it. I know you did it out of love, though, and then I tried to imitate your Uruguan-influenced Spanish. We'd laugh even harder then until our faces went bright red from the lack of oxygen, trying to imitate each others speech patterns. We laughed so much, Gabanti.
I hope you know that I never stop thinking abut you. You're always on my mind. As much as it hates me to say this, and it really shouldn't, because you'd laugh: get off of my mind. I love you so much, Gabe. I don't want to hold onto the past any more. I can't ever forget any of the times we had. Just writing this letter makes me cry. Imagining your smiling face makes me cry. I'm hiding away from the boys right now because they're sick of my teary red face. I remember when I used to get hurt, or when I use to stress out too badly --- nobody could ever console me better than you.
I wonder to myself what you ever did to deserve this. You were a great man, you will always be a great man. There was nothing wrong with you. You had some quirks, Gabe, but there was nothing worth anything over. The day I got the call from the hospital saying that you had died in a drunk crash, I didn't know what to do. I felt my knees buckle and I fell onto the floor. Michael and Sisky helped me up and asked me what had happened. I couldn't reply. I was petrified. I cried myself into a state of sickness. I couldn't go to the hospital to see you. All of the boys stayed huddled around me for days with buckets and blankets. They didn't want me to leave, too. They had already had the greatest singer in the world stop roaming this Earth; they didn't want his runner up.
I'm going to come out straight now, and just say what's been on my mind for the entire duration since your passing. Two months, four weeks, two days, one hour since I had gotten that call. I counted it all up. The math you helped me with in sophomore year really helped, huh?
I miss you so much that it aches. I miss the smiles, I miss the Spanish accent, I miss the warm purple-clad arms always slung over my shoulders. I miss the laughs we shared. I miss the teases we gave on stage when we sang 'Bring It (Snakes On A Plane)' together. I miss everything about you, Gabriel Eduardo Saporta, and I hope you never, ever forget it. I will miss you until the sun sets on my own life.
I had Alex help me with the next part. You know that I don't know Spanish well, Gabe, but I wanted to make it special. I'm writing this as he's staying up and translating it. You have a very good group of wonderful musicians on your hands, Gabe. They're willing to do this for you.
Te amo, Gabanti. Tal vez un día, nos reuniremos de nuevo. Y entonces seremos capaces de vivir juntos de nuevo, con esas sonrisas pintadas en la cara para siempre.
Sincerely,
William Eugene Beckett, Jr.
But you can, as you always have, call me Bilvy.
Author: cnopbl (posted from writing LJ)
Pairing/band: William x Gabe (The Academy Is... & Cobra Starship)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Pfft, this is totally real. I totally own both Will and Gabe. Mmhm. I'm also Jesus.
Summary: You never know how much you truly miss someone until they're gone. William has decided to illustrate his feelings in a letter.
Warnings: A lot of sad, lovey stories. A little tear-worthy, perhaps? Beware, it can bring a mood down.
Notes: Got this idea when I read a fic called My Mistakes Were Made For You by the EVER-LOVELY stupidrhapsody. Check her out, guys, she's talented. 'Memories That Fade Like Photographs' is the title of a song by All Time Low, the rest of the title is my own.
((THIS IS NOT BETA'D. I DIDN'T FEEL LIKE RUNNING IT THROUGH WITH ANYONE. SO SORRY FOR ANY MISTAKES THAT HAVE BEEN MADE.))
Sunday, March 28, 2010
11:36 PM
Dear Gabe,
You'd be so proud of me, Gabanti. I wrote a whole album today. It's a lot like what Cobra Starship used to do, I think. It's more bouncy that what I usually write and a lot less heartbroken. I wrote it for you, Gabanti. This is what I'd like to call your 'musical memorial'. Thinking about it now, that sounds really, really cheesy. But I did it because I missed you.
We've already had the memorial service, the burial, everything. We had it a few months ago, and god, it seems so close. It only feels like it was yesterday, Gabanti, that this all came flooding over all of us. The day that you left us.
Of course, you know that you left us. If you didn't know, I would question how much you had really been drinking in your lifetime. Of course, I would be joking. You don't drink as much as everyone says you do. But you know that, right?
I remember one time in the park, Gabanti. We were sitting on a bench and giggling at the birds. It was on our downtime, I remember, on a beautiful spring day. The way your arm fit around my neck and the way we fell into stitches just laughing at each others laughs. The way you yelled at the ice cream guy in Spanish just because you thought it was fun. The way we were teetering on the edge of the bay and the way you almost pushed me in. In a way, it was just a normal day to us, something that we thought we would do for the rest of our lives. I never thought that they would mean so much to me now.
All of the memories I have of us mean so much to me. I cry every day, Gabe. I don't let them see me cry. I bite my lip on stage. My stutter gets worse when I hold my tears back --- Sisky told me that. And every time I do I remember when you used to make fun of me for it. I know you did it out of love, though, and then I tried to imitate your Uruguan-influenced Spanish. We'd laugh even harder then until our faces went bright red from the lack of oxygen, trying to imitate each others speech patterns. We laughed so much, Gabanti.
I hope you know that I never stop thinking abut you. You're always on my mind. As much as it hates me to say this, and it really shouldn't, because you'd laugh: get off of my mind. I love you so much, Gabe. I don't want to hold onto the past any more. I can't ever forget any of the times we had. Just writing this letter makes me cry. Imagining your smiling face makes me cry. I'm hiding away from the boys right now because they're sick of my teary red face. I remember when I used to get hurt, or when I use to stress out too badly --- nobody could ever console me better than you.
I wonder to myself what you ever did to deserve this. You were a great man, you will always be a great man. There was nothing wrong with you. You had some quirks, Gabe, but there was nothing worth anything over. The day I got the call from the hospital saying that you had died in a drunk crash, I didn't know what to do. I felt my knees buckle and I fell onto the floor. Michael and Sisky helped me up and asked me what had happened. I couldn't reply. I was petrified. I cried myself into a state of sickness. I couldn't go to the hospital to see you. All of the boys stayed huddled around me for days with buckets and blankets. They didn't want me to leave, too. They had already had the greatest singer in the world stop roaming this Earth; they didn't want his runner up.
I'm going to come out straight now, and just say what's been on my mind for the entire duration since your passing. Two months, four weeks, two days, one hour since I had gotten that call. I counted it all up. The math you helped me with in sophomore year really helped, huh?
I miss you so much that it aches. I miss the smiles, I miss the Spanish accent, I miss the warm purple-clad arms always slung over my shoulders. I miss the laughs we shared. I miss the teases we gave on stage when we sang 'Bring It (Snakes On A Plane)' together. I miss everything about you, Gabriel Eduardo Saporta, and I hope you never, ever forget it. I will miss you until the sun sets on my own life.
I had Alex help me with the next part. You know that I don't know Spanish well, Gabe, but I wanted to make it special. I'm writing this as he's staying up and translating it. You have a very good group of wonderful musicians on your hands, Gabe. They're willing to do this for you.
Te amo, Gabanti. Tal vez un día, nos reuniremos de nuevo. Y entonces seremos capaces de vivir juntos de nuevo, con esas sonrisas pintadas en la cara para siempre.
Sincerely,
William Eugene Beckett, Jr.
But you can, as you always have, call me Bilvy.