Ten iTunes Drabbles
iTunes Drabbles
Author: eponine254
Fandom/Character(s)/Pairing(s): Original, Chess
Genre: General, Fantasy
Rating: PG13
Challenge/Prompt: fictionland Challenge #15: iTunes Drabbles
Warnings: Bad language
Notes: The challenge was to put iTunes on shuffle and write drabbles inspired by the first ten songs, writing only for the duration of those songs. I've done some minor editing for coherence without altering the lengths of the pieces.
1. Drinks with the Devil (Hell Yes - Alkaline Trio - 3:49)
The pub was a dive. Grotty, grimy, and with air so thick you could almost taste it. There was something definitely mysterious about the man at the end of the bar. He was wearing a long trenchcoat, the sort people wear in detective films. On most people, it would have looked ridiculous. On him, it somehow managed to look dashing.
He exhaled, smoke curling lazily upwards. Was it even still legal to smoke indoors here? Pixie automatically checked the wall for the no-smoking sign, but didn’t see one. He didn’t catch her eye, or wink, or otherwise pay attention to her at all. Pixie was a little put out. She watched him as subtly as she could, but he didn’t so much as glance at her.
She turned back to her drink. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed - surely not. Were those horns? She looked back quickly, but saw nothing, except that this time the man was staring straight back at her. His eyes were like none she had ever seen before. They seemed to bore through her. Pixie met his gaze unflinchingly, and he gave her an amused look. At last, he raised his glass and downed it, before throwing money on the bar and walking out.
Drinks with the devil, Pixie thought, shaking her head and swilling the remaining beer at the bottom of her glass. This may be a new low.
***
2. Letting Go (This is Letting Go - Rise Against - 3:41)
There was something cathartic about realising that we just weren’t right for each other any more. I contemplated him over the half-cooled cup of tea in front of me.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked.
“Oh, nothing,” I said, shaking my head and looking away quickly. “Just thinking.”
I’d spent so long pining, hoping, wondering how things could have been different. But it had always seemed impossible. And now that it was possible... I found that I didn’t care. It had been years. We were so different now. It was hard to put my finger on the ways we’d changed over the intervening years. We’d both grown up, for one thing, but we’d changed in other, subtler ways. We weren’t the same people we had been when we’d been in love.
That love hadn’t evaporated - not totally. There was still some part of me that longed for him as we sat there together, reminding me how good things had once been. But that voice held little power over my now. I’d come too far to listen to it.
Something in his eyes told me that he had come to the same conclusion, although I knew he still felt it too. I could see it in the way his hand still wanted to reach out for mine, how tightly we both held our tea cups, keeping our hands in check.
But when I said goodbye and picked up my bag, I left without looking back.
***
3. Waking up (American Slang - The Gaslight Anthem - 3:41)
He was hungover. Again.
He rolled over and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. The glowing red numbers unhelpfully told him that it was 11:30. The sunlight struggling in through the curtains suggested that it meant AM. He lay back down and groaned.
The room reeked of despair. Empty bottles were strewn around, a few still upright in the corner, the rest giving in to entropy and lying haphazardly on the floor.
He was beginning to lose track of what day it was. How long had it been? It felt like forever. A sick feeling filled the pit of his stomach. He still hadn’t got used to waking up alone. He made no attempt to get up, just reached for the pack of cigarettes which lay beside the alarm clock. He lit one and rolled onto his back, staring up at the grimy ceiling. The smoke was little comfort.
His eyes turned involuntarily to the name tattooed inside his forearm. Her name. She had always said it was a stupid idea. But he had been young and drunk and in love and he had done it anyway. He turned away from the sight as the smoke curled towards the ceiling.
***
4. Idk (Off the Map - Alkaline Trio - 3:15)
It’s like i’m so far off the map i can’t even tell what’s crazy and what’s not any more. and i mean, that’s crazy, right? we just keep fighting. i say something and she says something, and next thing we’ve been fighting for so long that we don’t even remember what we’re fighting about anymore.
today? new record. 2 hours and 7 minutes. its a wonder we made it. am i wrong for sticking around after all this? we’ve just been together for so long. and i lvoe her, i do love her. but i just dont know any more. maybe we’re just bad for each other. but i dont know what to do without her. i don’t know how to be without her. maybe i’m just delusional to think itll all work out. idk.
do i stay or do i go? and i mean, fuck, if i go, where do i go?? i dont want to leave her. But I don't know if we can work it out this time.
***
5. The Moon Path (Donnie Darko Soundtrack - 1:47)
When I was a kid, I used to sit on the beach and watch the moon path. I used to imagine that the reflection of the full moon on the water was an actual path of light, solid enough to walk on, leading - well, anywhere. Somewhere magical. My imagination was vague on the details. Now, as an adult, looking out over the same scene, I’m struck by what I’ve lost. The reflection looks like just that - a reflection. Nothing solid. Not a pathway to anywhere. Even as a kid, I knew it wasn’t, but now it seems to silly to even imagine it. I sit and stare out over the water and try to recapture the past.
***
6. Run Away (Fork in the Road - aKING - 3:09)
“Why does change scare us so much anyway?” she asked me, stretching out on the sofa and resting her feet on the arm of the chair. I didn’t know what to say. Despite my best efforts, I was transfixed by her long, pale legs, crossed at the ankle, one flip flop dangling from her toes. I made a noncommittal sound and tried not to stare.
“I mean,” she went on, “it’s what life is fucking about, isn’t it? It’s what we do. If we don’t change, we die. Our dreams just... die.”
And there it was, the mood switch. She didn’t have mood swings, not as such. She would just switch, one second to the next. I could see that she had become sullen. I tried to reassure her.
“But like you said, change isn’t something to be scared of,” I said, feeling stupid even as the words left my mouth. Paraphrasing. I’d end up a pop psychologist if I wasn’t careful. She pushed herself upright at sat looking at me with those eyes that I sometimes saw my dreams. A faint smile twitched at her mouth.
“You think?” she said.
“Yeah,” I said, not entirely honestly.
She leaned forward and whispered, “Then run away with me.”
***
7. Not My Problem (Florence Quits - Chess Soundtrack - 2:53)
She would not cry. She would not cry. Dammit. She wiped the back of her wrist over her eyes, which seemed disinclined to obey her very clear instructions. Florence packed as quickly as she could, giving no thought to the clothes she was creasing as she threw them into the suitcase. So this was it. She really was leaving.
The thought of the argument still left her feeling sick and furious. She had to get out of there fast. She knew that she couldn’t stay. She’d put up with enough over the years - more than anyone should ever have to - and now, finally, she’d had enough. She refused to allow herself to think about Freddie, refused to allow herself to feel any pity for the man who had so systematically broken her down. She didn’t know how he would cope without her.
“Not my problem,” she whispered to herself, slamming closed the suitcase and beginning to drag it to the door. “It’s. Not. My. Problem.”
This time, it was over for good.
***
8. Goodbye (I Won’t Be Left - Tegan and Sara - 2:38)
“Look, please don’t leave. Lucy, please.” A pleading note had entered her voice now, I noticed with a hint of bitter satisfaction.
“It’s too late,” I said, as calmly as I could. “I’m sorry.”
I was already halfway out the door. I waited for her to speak. I could see she was trying not to cry. Oddly enough, I felt no sadness - not yet. Nothing but a fierce anger that flowed through me, giving my movements purpose.
“Don’t leave me,” she said, almost in a whisper.
“You’re pathetic,” I said, but without venom. “You’re just scared to be alone.”
“No, it’s not that - ” she began, twisting her hands in the hem of her shirt.
“Yes, it is,” I said, gently. I could feel some of the anger flowing away from me at the sight of her looking so lost. “It’s not me you want. It’s anyone.”
I didn’t stay to hear her reply. I could see her in the rear-view mirror as I drove away, standing in the doorway. I must have imagined that I could see the tears on her face from that distance.
***
9. Portal (In Regards to Myself - Underoath - 3:24)
The portal had opened just inside the bathroom.
Alice stared at it for a moment, trying to make sense of it over the deep, thrumming bass of the band on the stage. Yes, she decided, definitely a portal. Or maybe that was the coke talking.
She stared at it. It was bluish, and it pulsed faintly. It didn’t seem to do anything else. Except... She leaned closer to it. Was it speaking? She could hear what sounded like voices, but it was almost impossible to make them out over the noise from the club. But no, she was sure she could detect whispering. It seemed to be calling her. She could make out her own name amidst the indistinct whispers.
She took a deep breath. It would be stupid. It would definitely not be a good idea. But then again, it wasn’t like she was leaving anything behind other than a minor drug habit, crippling student loan debt, and a bunch of people who were more acquaintances than friends
“What are you so afraid of?” she whispered to herself. The portal seemed to hum in agreement. She gave a shrug and stepped into it, vanishing from view.
***
10. Change (Dancing for Rain - Rise Against - 4:02)
The protest had, to a point, gone well. It had been peaceful, the march and sit-in that had once been popular. She put her head in her hands, the memory still vivid in her mind. All they had asked for was change. And instead... Well, here she was. She sat back on the narrow bed, resting her head against the cool stone wall.
That had been twenty years ago. Well, give or take. It was hard to be certain in here, where time lost all meaning. Maybe it had been a hundred years. Or a week.
Protests had still been legal then, if only just. The Watchers had only been in power a few months, had barely had time to consolidate. But even then, they had had eyes everywhere. They knew exactly who needed to be removed to quash protest fast. Maya thought she should probably be flattered that she had been that person.
Twenty years. People came and went quickly here, and through them she received snippets of news from the outside world, how things had changed in the time she had been in there. People came and went, but she stayed. Was she too dangerous to release, but not dangerous enough to execute? She doubted it. No one was too unimportant for that fate. The other day it had been barely more than a boy, dragged off for printing flyers which satirised the Watchers. Maya could still remember his white face as they dragged him away.
She had been forgotten. She closed her eyes, and tried without success to listen for any movement, any sound from the outside she could barely remember. Change had to come. But when?
Author: eponine254
Fandom/Character(s)/Pairing(s): Original, Chess
Genre: General, Fantasy
Rating: PG13
Challenge/Prompt: fictionland Challenge #15: iTunes Drabbles
Warnings: Bad language
Notes: The challenge was to put iTunes on shuffle and write drabbles inspired by the first ten songs, writing only for the duration of those songs. I've done some minor editing for coherence without altering the lengths of the pieces.
1. Drinks with the Devil (Hell Yes - Alkaline Trio - 3:49)
The pub was a dive. Grotty, grimy, and with air so thick you could almost taste it. There was something definitely mysterious about the man at the end of the bar. He was wearing a long trenchcoat, the sort people wear in detective films. On most people, it would have looked ridiculous. On him, it somehow managed to look dashing.
He exhaled, smoke curling lazily upwards. Was it even still legal to smoke indoors here? Pixie automatically checked the wall for the no-smoking sign, but didn’t see one. He didn’t catch her eye, or wink, or otherwise pay attention to her at all. Pixie was a little put out. She watched him as subtly as she could, but he didn’t so much as glance at her.
She turned back to her drink. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed - surely not. Were those horns? She looked back quickly, but saw nothing, except that this time the man was staring straight back at her. His eyes were like none she had ever seen before. They seemed to bore through her. Pixie met his gaze unflinchingly, and he gave her an amused look. At last, he raised his glass and downed it, before throwing money on the bar and walking out.
Drinks with the devil, Pixie thought, shaking her head and swilling the remaining beer at the bottom of her glass. This may be a new low.
***
2. Letting Go (This is Letting Go - Rise Against - 3:41)
There was something cathartic about realising that we just weren’t right for each other any more. I contemplated him over the half-cooled cup of tea in front of me.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked.
“Oh, nothing,” I said, shaking my head and looking away quickly. “Just thinking.”
I’d spent so long pining, hoping, wondering how things could have been different. But it had always seemed impossible. And now that it was possible... I found that I didn’t care. It had been years. We were so different now. It was hard to put my finger on the ways we’d changed over the intervening years. We’d both grown up, for one thing, but we’d changed in other, subtler ways. We weren’t the same people we had been when we’d been in love.
That love hadn’t evaporated - not totally. There was still some part of me that longed for him as we sat there together, reminding me how good things had once been. But that voice held little power over my now. I’d come too far to listen to it.
Something in his eyes told me that he had come to the same conclusion, although I knew he still felt it too. I could see it in the way his hand still wanted to reach out for mine, how tightly we both held our tea cups, keeping our hands in check.
But when I said goodbye and picked up my bag, I left without looking back.
***
3. Waking up (American Slang - The Gaslight Anthem - 3:41)
He was hungover. Again.
He rolled over and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. The glowing red numbers unhelpfully told him that it was 11:30. The sunlight struggling in through the curtains suggested that it meant AM. He lay back down and groaned.
The room reeked of despair. Empty bottles were strewn around, a few still upright in the corner, the rest giving in to entropy and lying haphazardly on the floor.
He was beginning to lose track of what day it was. How long had it been? It felt like forever. A sick feeling filled the pit of his stomach. He still hadn’t got used to waking up alone. He made no attempt to get up, just reached for the pack of cigarettes which lay beside the alarm clock. He lit one and rolled onto his back, staring up at the grimy ceiling. The smoke was little comfort.
His eyes turned involuntarily to the name tattooed inside his forearm. Her name. She had always said it was a stupid idea. But he had been young and drunk and in love and he had done it anyway. He turned away from the sight as the smoke curled towards the ceiling.
***
4. Idk (Off the Map - Alkaline Trio - 3:15)
It’s like i’m so far off the map i can’t even tell what’s crazy and what’s not any more. and i mean, that’s crazy, right? we just keep fighting. i say something and she says something, and next thing we’ve been fighting for so long that we don’t even remember what we’re fighting about anymore.
today? new record. 2 hours and 7 minutes. its a wonder we made it. am i wrong for sticking around after all this? we’ve just been together for so long. and i lvoe her, i do love her. but i just dont know any more. maybe we’re just bad for each other. but i dont know what to do without her. i don’t know how to be without her. maybe i’m just delusional to think itll all work out. idk.
do i stay or do i go? and i mean, fuck, if i go, where do i go?? i dont want to leave her. But I don't know if we can work it out this time.
***
5. The Moon Path (Donnie Darko Soundtrack - 1:47)
When I was a kid, I used to sit on the beach and watch the moon path. I used to imagine that the reflection of the full moon on the water was an actual path of light, solid enough to walk on, leading - well, anywhere. Somewhere magical. My imagination was vague on the details. Now, as an adult, looking out over the same scene, I’m struck by what I’ve lost. The reflection looks like just that - a reflection. Nothing solid. Not a pathway to anywhere. Even as a kid, I knew it wasn’t, but now it seems to silly to even imagine it. I sit and stare out over the water and try to recapture the past.
***
6. Run Away (Fork in the Road - aKING - 3:09)
“Why does change scare us so much anyway?” she asked me, stretching out on the sofa and resting her feet on the arm of the chair. I didn’t know what to say. Despite my best efforts, I was transfixed by her long, pale legs, crossed at the ankle, one flip flop dangling from her toes. I made a noncommittal sound and tried not to stare.
“I mean,” she went on, “it’s what life is fucking about, isn’t it? It’s what we do. If we don’t change, we die. Our dreams just... die.”
And there it was, the mood switch. She didn’t have mood swings, not as such. She would just switch, one second to the next. I could see that she had become sullen. I tried to reassure her.
“But like you said, change isn’t something to be scared of,” I said, feeling stupid even as the words left my mouth. Paraphrasing. I’d end up a pop psychologist if I wasn’t careful. She pushed herself upright at sat looking at me with those eyes that I sometimes saw my dreams. A faint smile twitched at her mouth.
“You think?” she said.
“Yeah,” I said, not entirely honestly.
She leaned forward and whispered, “Then run away with me.”
***
7. Not My Problem (Florence Quits - Chess Soundtrack - 2:53)
She would not cry. She would not cry. Dammit. She wiped the back of her wrist over her eyes, which seemed disinclined to obey her very clear instructions. Florence packed as quickly as she could, giving no thought to the clothes she was creasing as she threw them into the suitcase. So this was it. She really was leaving.
The thought of the argument still left her feeling sick and furious. She had to get out of there fast. She knew that she couldn’t stay. She’d put up with enough over the years - more than anyone should ever have to - and now, finally, she’d had enough. She refused to allow herself to think about Freddie, refused to allow herself to feel any pity for the man who had so systematically broken her down. She didn’t know how he would cope without her.
“Not my problem,” she whispered to herself, slamming closed the suitcase and beginning to drag it to the door. “It’s. Not. My. Problem.”
This time, it was over for good.
***
8. Goodbye (I Won’t Be Left - Tegan and Sara - 2:38)
“Look, please don’t leave. Lucy, please.” A pleading note had entered her voice now, I noticed with a hint of bitter satisfaction.
“It’s too late,” I said, as calmly as I could. “I’m sorry.”
I was already halfway out the door. I waited for her to speak. I could see she was trying not to cry. Oddly enough, I felt no sadness - not yet. Nothing but a fierce anger that flowed through me, giving my movements purpose.
“Don’t leave me,” she said, almost in a whisper.
“You’re pathetic,” I said, but without venom. “You’re just scared to be alone.”
“No, it’s not that - ” she began, twisting her hands in the hem of her shirt.
“Yes, it is,” I said, gently. I could feel some of the anger flowing away from me at the sight of her looking so lost. “It’s not me you want. It’s anyone.”
I didn’t stay to hear her reply. I could see her in the rear-view mirror as I drove away, standing in the doorway. I must have imagined that I could see the tears on her face from that distance.
***
9. Portal (In Regards to Myself - Underoath - 3:24)
The portal had opened just inside the bathroom.
Alice stared at it for a moment, trying to make sense of it over the deep, thrumming bass of the band on the stage. Yes, she decided, definitely a portal. Or maybe that was the coke talking.
She stared at it. It was bluish, and it pulsed faintly. It didn’t seem to do anything else. Except... She leaned closer to it. Was it speaking? She could hear what sounded like voices, but it was almost impossible to make them out over the noise from the club. But no, she was sure she could detect whispering. It seemed to be calling her. She could make out her own name amidst the indistinct whispers.
She took a deep breath. It would be stupid. It would definitely not be a good idea. But then again, it wasn’t like she was leaving anything behind other than a minor drug habit, crippling student loan debt, and a bunch of people who were more acquaintances than friends
“What are you so afraid of?” she whispered to herself. The portal seemed to hum in agreement. She gave a shrug and stepped into it, vanishing from view.
***
10. Change (Dancing for Rain - Rise Against - 4:02)
The protest had, to a point, gone well. It had been peaceful, the march and sit-in that had once been popular. She put her head in her hands, the memory still vivid in her mind. All they had asked for was change. And instead... Well, here she was. She sat back on the narrow bed, resting her head against the cool stone wall.
That had been twenty years ago. Well, give or take. It was hard to be certain in here, where time lost all meaning. Maybe it had been a hundred years. Or a week.
Protests had still been legal then, if only just. The Watchers had only been in power a few months, had barely had time to consolidate. But even then, they had had eyes everywhere. They knew exactly who needed to be removed to quash protest fast. Maya thought she should probably be flattered that she had been that person.
Twenty years. People came and went quickly here, and through them she received snippets of news from the outside world, how things had changed in the time she had been in there. People came and went, but she stayed. Was she too dangerous to release, but not dangerous enough to execute? She doubted it. No one was too unimportant for that fate. The other day it had been barely more than a boy, dragged off for printing flyers which satirised the Watchers. Maya could still remember his white face as they dragged him away.
She had been forgotten. She closed her eyes, and tried without success to listen for any movement, any sound from the outside she could barely remember. Change had to come. But when?