How weird...I wrote a Piz fic.
Title: Humming Along To One’s Thoughts.
Author: bfragrant
Pairing/Character: Piz (Logan,Veronica,Wallace,Parker,OC’s)
Word Count: 4606
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Getting to know Piz.
Spoilers: 3-20 (basically the whole series)
Warnings: Well it’s a Piz fic.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N So this is a Piz fic written by a Logan lover. She wrote this because a) the world is coming to an end or b) she hated the fact that she had to watch a two-dimensional character get so much screen time. Well, the right answer is pretty obvious I guess (come on you know you agree). My initial idea of writing a crack!fic about evil!Piz, stupid!Piz etc took a mind of it’s own and morphed into something more real. I tried to flesh him out to understand him better in a sense. So if you like Piz, don’t be afraid because there’s no bashing. Yet if you don’t like him I still hope you give it a try, since this fic was written by someone with similar feelings.
A/N (II) All mistakes are mine. And feedback would be awesome.
Piz parked his car, and got out to face his new home. Hearst College. It really rolled off the tongue, didn’t it? Piz was gleeful when he thought of the day when he could reply proudly when asked where he had graduated from. “Hearst College” he would say, and wink before oh-so-subtly mentioning his test scores. Hey, he would even throw in a Jim Morrison quote in there; people loved it when he quoted from the music industry. It was like his trademark of some sorts, his “thing”.
In fact he could hear Jim right now, singing People Are Strange in his mind (Hey, he was in a new environment after all).
---
Piz had this thing that he couldn’t confess to anyone. The fact was Piz constantly heard songs in his head. For every occasion he had a song. Therefore every one of his memories had a soundtrack of its own. For instance, the memory of his sixth birthday was filled with Celine Dion songs. The reason for this was, his grandmother. She was diagnosed with cancer, so everyone went out of their ways to make her happy. This was why his mother had agreed to let her plan Piz’s birthday party. And boy had she planned. There were stuffed animals, yellow balloons and Winnie the Pooh themed party sets everywhere. Piz had not been pleased with this since he had thought that Winnie was lame and had really wanted Spiderman instead. So he had thrown a temper tantrum. His mother, Betty, had picked him up and carried him to his room where she had explained his grandma’s condition without being too overt. “You love your granny, don’t you sweetie?” She had asked. Piz had nodded, his eyelashes still wet from crying. “Your granny is in a lot of pain right now, she needs something fun to do. Can you let her do the decorating? It will make her very happy. Can you do that sweetheart?” she had lovingly asked while stroking his hair. Piz had nodded again. He wanted to please his grandmother, his mother, his father, everyone. He liked it when people were happy. But what he liked more was when they were happy because of him. So Piz had gone, and eaten his birthday cake frosted with Winnie and friends. He had kissed his grandmother, and declared that this was “the best birthday party ever”! His grandmother had hugged him so tightly, that he could still smell her lavender scented perfume to this day every time he heard the song Because You Loved Me (that was the song playing in the background). His grandmother had died a year later, and as her casket was lowered to the ground, Piz had cried silently, the lyrics of All By Myself playing in his mind.
By the time he was ten, Piz had acquired the habit of humming along to everything that was playing in his mind at the time. He wouldn’t realize it until someone warned him about it. And everyone warned him about it. Mrs Robertson who was sitting next to him in church one Sunday, Rob the bully who had dragged him into the boy’s bathroom one day and smacked him around while telling him to “stop humming that frigging song in English class!”, his (beautiful) teacher Ms Browning, Maria the cleaning lady who came on Thursdays, the list went on. Even his parents had noticed it, but they found it endearing, like they found everything that he did. This behaviour carried on until Ms Browning called his parents in for a parent-teacher meeting. Everything changed after that. They explained to him that music was a great hobby but he couldn’t sing every minute, it was not healthy or normal. So to get rid of this problem he had to go to a psychiatrist. Piz had felt his stomach drop in fear. “Are you saying that I’m crazy?” he had asked fearfully. “Of course not sweetheart!” his mother had exclaimed while his father had smiled reassuringly “You just have a bad habit you have to get over”. So began his therapy sessions. His parents would come with him every time, and sit in the waiting room, reading their book of the week. He always got to have ice cream after therapy Tuesdays. Rain or shine, there was always ice cream (each week a different flavour). Every time Piz scooped a big spoon full, he would have something by The Beatles playing in his mind. He thought it was fitting, since they were his parent’s favourite band.
His psychiatrist, Dr James O’Reilly, advised his parents to have Piz take some music lessons. “The only way to get rid of his humming obsession” he had said “is to have him channel it towards an instrument”. Piz had entered the living room one afternoon to see the biggest piano ever made (so it had seemed that way at the time). His piano teacher was a really old lady called Ms Bell. She was a graduate of a very prestigious music school, and everyone had high hopes that she would make it big. She never had. Which was why she spent all that loyal education teaching kids how to play, and one could tell that she wasn’t very pleased with this. She would talk about the piano like it were a living breathing thing “Press down on her keys gently my boy” she would tell Piz in an annoyed tone while readjusting his hands “don’t forget that she is very delicate”. Frankly, Piz thought that Ms Bell was a little, “you-know-what” in the head. She really needed to see Dr O’Reilly ASAP. Whenever he remembered Ms Bell, he would hear something from Billie Holiday.
The humming did stop though.
By the time he was twelve, he decided that he had outgrown the piano. He wanted something cooler. He wanted to play the guitar like those bands on MTV. His parents were against the idea first, when he told them that he wanted to quit the piano lessons. They had a dream that he would become a famous pianist one day, known by all (which was kind of ridiculous though because umm Ms Bell? She had never made it, and Piz was nowhere near as talented as her). Piz had informed them that guitar players had more chance of “making it”, you just had to form a band and you were half way there. They had reluctantly agreed. Ms Bell had been heartbroken, saying that she was losing her protégé. Piz was certain that it was about losing her pay check.
Piz thought it would be awesome if he learned to play the guitar by himself. He sat near his windowsill everyday after school, trying to figure out how to play. He didn’t remember this memory by the first song he played but by the first song he got praise for playing. Brown Eyed Girl, since his mom’s eyes were brown and she had embraced it as him playing it especially for her. He had.
He joined a band his freshmen year in Beaverton High School. Sure there were some complications at first, since they all didn’t know each other very well, coming from different Junior High Schools. The biggest problem was finding a name for their band, hip but easy to remember. “Broken Records”, “Train To Oblivion”, “2010” (because they were sure that they were going to make it big by then), “From Apes”, “Pin Stripe”…the list went on and on. They couldn’t agree on a name until one day Sammy (the drum player) dropped his licorice stick on to the black couch. It was what could be considered a “Eureka!” moment, when they remembered such a term existed. Voila, open up the way for “Black Licorice”! Piz remembered this moment by I Wanna Rock’N Roll All Night, because that was what he wanted for real. Finding a name to the device leading to his destiny was forever cemented in his brain by that song.
Piz fell in love with a girl his sophomore year, Jennifer. Sure Jennifer was a pretty common name, but somehow it seemed special, like it only belonged to her. “Jennifer” was the last thing he whispered to himself before he fell asleep, and the first thing he uttered when he came in the shower. She had honey blond hair, all the way down to her waist. Her green eyes sparkled with mischief as she waved her pom poms at homecoming games, her chants were the ones he would pick up amongst all of the other voices. She would do the routines flawlessly, her long legs catching every beat. Piz was terribly in love. And he could only hear pop songs.
Pop songs? Really? How ironic considering he had never listened to that garbage for pleasure in his life. It was all because of that radio hour they had at lunch time and the idiots who considered Avril Lavigne good music (or Blink 182 and its various incarnates). It was a shame that that only seniors got to pick the music (Piz made it his goal to get into the radio his senior year and save everyone from brain shrinkage). Before he knew it, he was bopping his head up and down to Pink. And every time he saw Jennifer that song from “Dawson’s Creek” Crazy For This Girl (?) started up in his head.
It took him three months to muster up the courage to ask her out. He finally saw his chance at the schools talent show, where “Black Licorice” was playing The Sand In My Shoes (the first song they had ever written). She was sitting at the sixth row with her girlfriends. They were staring at him and giggling amongst their hushed whispers (just like the girls they were). He felt like she was the only girl in the room and he was singing his song especially for her. He was sure she felt the same way.
She had. Because after the show was over (they had gotten second place which was really unfair considering a clown act had won first. High School students didn’t appreciate great music obviously) she had breathlessly told him that he was “excellent out there, and would he like to hang out with her that Saturday?” He had said “Sure” in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner (inside he was jumping up and down). They shared their first kiss on their first date. She tasted like strawberry milkshake.
He had gotten his dream girl. She was all that he had hoped for. Pretty, popular, cheerful and full of life.
They went to the movies (mostly chick flicks but hey, she was that kind of girl and he loved her for it), played mini golf, hung out at cafes and got to third base, well almost. Piz learned something about Jennifer, she was all talk and minimal action (she teased him mercilessly and never followed up on it). She was a cheerleader, who wore the shortest skirts known to mankind, and did wonders in the art of French kissing. However, much to his dismay, she was a little prudish. She always pushed his hands away if they wandered closer to the insides of her thighs. And he was a teenage guy; this was doing damage to his ego, not to mention the fact that he had to rush to the bathroom after every date. She also talked about actors (How Connor Larkin was the cutest thing ever, and had he heard that Colin Farrell was dating someone new?) and beauty products (how L’Oreal was a better brand than Maybelline, or how she preferred tanning lotions to tanning booths) a lot. A lot. She was very possessive of him, constantly grilling him about the girls that came to listen to their band practice. He couldn’t help it if he was awesome as a guitar player now could he?
Frankly, she wasn’t turning out at all like he had expected. He felt like he had had too much cotton candy and was now feeling sick to his stomach.
He broke up with her after eight months of dating. She didn’t come to school for two days.
He was at his local music store to ask them if they would be willing to put up their band flyer when he saw her. Her hair was so black that when it caught the light it looked like it was blue. Her red top, black skirt and the black tights she wore underneath went well with her black booths (with red shoe-laces). She looked extremely bored while flipping through the Rock collections. She was the most laid-back girl he had ever seen. Piz got the biggest urge to meet her.
He oh-so-accidentally bumped into her from behind. She turned her head slowly, her stare one of complete boredom. He noticed the CD in her hand. MCR, well it wasn’t really his cup of tea but he was willing to compromise. He introduced himself, and asked her if she would like to come to his bands performance that Sunday. When she asked him why it was that he was asking her, he replied that she looked like someone who appreciated good music. She smiled. Piz felt like he had hit the jackpot.
The concert was a small gathering. Five minutes before the show, Piz started to panic that she was a no show. Just as he was getting ready to get up on to the stage he saw her slip in through the back door. Piz made sure that he sang his best that night.
After the show, he helped hoist her on to the stage. He had been flabbergasted when she sat behind the drums (much to Sammy’s displeasure) and started to play it like a pro. She had laughed at Piz’s expression and told him that she too had a band.
So began his affair with Audrey.
Much to his amazement, he heard pop songs when he was he was with her too. He found it ironic that he only heard pop songs when he was in love. (Her song was Pieces Of Me).
Everything was great at first. Audrey (unlike Jennifer) let him get to third base in exactly two weeks. Before the month was over they were having sex. She was his first. He wasn’t hers. She kissed him like she was runner aiming to get to the finish line before anyone else. Fast and hard, leaving him breathless and dizzy. He thought that maybe she was it. In his mind their song was Beautiful Soul, sang by some teeny-bopper blond guy.
They could talk about everything music. Life was never boring when he was with her. Every minute spent without her was torture.
She dumped him three and a half months later for a guy who played base for a local band. As the initial pain had subsided, all he could think about was that he had been dumped…for a base player. That had hurt the most.
When senior year rolled around, he joined the radio like he had promised himself his freshman year. He played everything from The Stones to Nirvana, from Interpol to Radiohead. He felt like he was educating his peers on good music, and it didn’t go unnoticed. People would stop him in the hallway, congratulating him about his song choices. It was a very heady feeling. Piz decided that when he got into college; he was going to take Radio Broadcasting as his major. The chance of “Black Licorice” making it was slim to none anyway. If he was a dj, then he would have the chance to reach the public with his voice (albeit in a different way) and interview kick-ass bands. He would still keep the band though, who knew, maybe one day his popularity would help his band get the recognition it highly deserved.
His parents, although sad that he would be so far away from home, were proud when he got into Hearst. It was an added bonus that the tuition was affordable, since they had been saving for his college education. It was not like they were poor anyway, he always had a good enough allowance and only had to take up summer jobs to pay for his very expensive passion.
He had his whole future ahead of him. He was sure that Neptune, California would greet him with open arms.
---
Piz had been in shock when he realized that all of his stuff had been stolen. Everything! How was he supposed to live without his guitar?
So when Wallace (who was going to be the coolest roommate, Piz could just tell), offered the help of his “detective” (girl) best friend, he declined. He really didn’t have any time to waste helping a girl with a detective fetish look for his stuff. This was strictly police business.
He ate his words when he opened the door to her. She had this “I don’t take bullshit from anyone, so you better watch out” air about her. Her hair was an appealing shade of blond, her eyes the colour of the sky on a cloudless day. And she was Veronica Mars! The girl who had rushed headlong into danger, all in the name of bringing her best friends killer to justice.
Veronica Mars was positively the prettiest and coolest girl he had ever met. Her song? She’s The One.
Every other word that fell from her mouth was a funny quip of some kind. Her words were laced with heavy sarcasm (he liked talking; she liked talking, bam! match made in heaven). He was positive that she didn’t care if he thought that she was beautiful or not. She had better things to do. Like find his stuff. (Which she did in the end, of course). She even brought him clothes from an old friend, which he though was such a touching gesture. She cared about people too. Piz had the biggest urge to hum along to the pop songs playing in his mind.
He was trying to come up with a strategy to ask her out as he walked towards her in the crowded food court at the mall. There appeared to be a commotion, a little fight going on near her, which she was watching intently. He hated fights, why would people use their fists when they had words? He was sure that Veronica felt the same way, after all, she knew good conversation. He walked up behind her and positive about his pick up line said “'Cause I'll tell you up front. I'm a lover, I'm not a fighter.” So imagine his surprise when one of the guys connected to the beat down walked up behind her and planted a chaste kiss on her lips.
He felt like an imaginary hand was clutching at his heart. How could this be? She didn’t behave like a girl who had a boyfriend
Logan Echolls. That was his name. Piz was familiar with his name of course (how could he not be, his life story was all over the networks, there was no escaping it). Son of two movie stars, both deceased (Suicide, murder. Hollywood stars couldn’t even die like normal people so it seemed). His surname used frequently while describing more than a few scandals. And Veronica was dating him? He was rich sure and a little handsome (but nothing too extraordinary). But this guy had organized bum fights once, and had been accused of murder! Surely Veronica was going through a bad boy phase.
Safe to say Piz hated him a little bit, illogical as it may have been.
He still decided to pursue her. Their relationship was doomed from the beginning anyway, since she didn’t seem that into him. He was always touching her, kissing her, calling her. She looked like she wasn’t reciprocating at all.
Piz gave them three months tops before they broke up. Never mind Wallace’s information that they had been on and off since junior year. He knew they had dated, thanks to the media. Yet this was college, the place for a new beginning. He hoped that she chose him as her clean slate. Logan Echolls had dated her best friend before her. Piz thought that that was a little icky.
Piz needed her skills again to help his soon-to-be-boss (was there even another option?). They made a good team, the two of them. He hoped that she felt the same way.
She apparently didn’t however since she brought her boyfriend to their bowling date. Not only that but they brought Parker along, like it was a double date! He would never date her in a million years, she was too Jennifer for his taste. So he told Veronica that she was really nice, but not really his type. He failed to mention that she was his type. He hoped that she would figure it out sooner or later.
His wishes came true when he caught Veronica staying in his dorm room one day. Why wasn’t she staying with her boyfriend? Clearly they were having relationship troubles. This was proven true when a distraught Logan appeared in his doorway, looking for his girlfriend. He felt pleased (and a little guilty for feeling pleased) when he saw the look of bitter hurt on his face when he put two and two together and figured out that Veronica had stayed with him. He didn’t think it was necessary to mention Meryl since she was a last minute addition; Veronica was going to stay with him no matter what. Logan broke up with Veronica shortly after. He didn’t even come by to ask her how she was after her brutal confrontation with Mercer and Moe. What kind of an insensitive jerk was he anyway?
His luck took a better turn when he spent time with her after her break up (or so he thought). They shared a very intimate lunch together, talking about what they both wanted and expected from relationships. Piz could feel it, they had a connection, and they both wanted the same things from life. She was the perfect girl for him. He got up with a joyous feeling the next day, I’m A Believer stuck in a loop in his brain. His carefree happiness was crushed, when he saw that she had gone back to him. After all that understanding, she had chosen him. What was it about him anyway? She was too good for him. He constantly sulked while she threw around cheerful quips. She needed someone as carefree and fun like him, not a guy who probably heard Creep playing as a part of his personal soundtrack.
Yet they broke up again. See he was right for thinking that they were incompatible. Their relationship was nothing but a constant angst-fest.
When he finally kissed her, at Parker’s birthday party thrown by Logan (he sure was fast), it was as if the whole world had stopped. Yes, it was a cheesy metaphor but he literally felt like it did. And nothing felt better then her running up after him for another one. He had always been a good kisser. The only thing that ruined it was Logan catching them. Did he have to taint everything?
They took it achingly slow, shy glances, hand holding. It felt thrilling when he instantly connected with Keith. Who obviously preferred him over Logan. He had the girl, the great best friend and a father who approved of him. It was as if Christmas had come early. Well, he had always been a good boy. And good things happen to good people.
Apparently not. He felt heart broken when he chose the Neptune internship and Veronica got accepted to the internship at the FBI. How was he going to stay away from her for so long? Just as he had gotten the girl of his dreams, she was leaving for three months. Piz decided that this was God’s way of testing him. He wasn’t going to give up. They seemed to really click, she was different then when she was with Logan. It was obvious that he made her happy, she really smiled at him. He felt that the feelings and behaviours she repressed when she was going out with Logan came out when she was with him. She even mock called him from the FBI (while they were in the same room) to tell him that she missed him. Then she straddled him, and offered to get naked. And then…well one didn’t have to a genius to figure it out.
So he was not really surprised when Logan barged into the radio room to beat him up. How he had learned he didn’t know, but she was his girlfriend now. He had no rights on her, and being possessive of an ex-girlfriend was a really shitty move. What had she seen in him, really? While Logan was beating him into a bloody pulp, he was trying to get a few punches in. This was his first fight ever (he stayed out of overzealous actions, they did nothing but hurt you), and he was losing terribly. Everyone in the cafeteria was watching, he had never felt more humiliated in his life. He could hear Smack My Bitch Up with Logan’s every punch.
He had trouble with breathing and he had to get five stitches after Logan and their little endeavour. It was until Veronica told him that they had been caught on tape that he understood why Logan had done the thing that he did. He had thought that he had taped them. That was ridiculous, because Piz was a good person, which Veronica understood since she didn’t even suspect him. And Wallace, his bff, he wanted to kick Logan’s ass. Piz smiled to himself.
He was surprised when Veronica tried to get back at the guy who was taunting her. She of all people should have known that letting go, being the better person was the right thing to do. “If you act towards a bully like he acts towards you, you will become a bully yourself” his mother used to say to him when he had trouble with Gary Angelo in the seventh grade. The only way to shame a bully was to not care.
This was what he would consider a déjà vu. He walked towards her in the crowded food court at school. There appeared to be a commotion, a little fight going on near her, which she was watching intently. He watched as Logan threw a guy to the floor and dumped a tray of food on him. He told him to apologise to Veronica, she declined his apology but took something like a pen from him. He observed as Logan told Veronica something that made her pupils go wide. He watched on as Logan walked towards him like it was all in slow motion. He told him that he was truly sorry for everything. Piz didn’t know what to say, he had blood on his shirt, and the guy he had beaten was still lying on the floor like a thrown piece of garbage. He felt his stomach churn. Logan clearly needed help. He looked towards Veronica to see the reflection of his thoughts in her eyes. Instead she was looking after Logan like he was some kind of hero, like she was mesmerized by him. Her eyes filled with passion, respect, admiration and (God) love. She guiltily looked away when she noticed his stare.
My Happy Ending stared playing in his mind right at that moment.
He didn’t go to class for a week.