fic: fairytales of yesterday (part 8 / ?)
title: fairytales of yesterday
pairing: colfer/criss
rating: nc-17 (for future chapters)
word count: 4000 (this part)
warnings for this chapter: physical abuse
summary: Darren has spent his whole life (literally) looking for the perfect fairytale, but will he miss out on what's been in front of him this whole time?
a/n: thanks to my magical angel Britt for beta-ing this one. i understand that last chapter maybe the whole fight with maggie and chris wasn't very well explained, but i hope it's more cleared up with this part xo
PROLOGUE PART PART PART 3 PART 4 ART 5 PART 6 PART
--
That night when Darren got home the entire house was already asleep and Darren let himself in quietly, creeping up the stairs. Everything seemed so much quieter now that Chuck was away. Usually he would be the last one up, his music always dimly heard through the walls.
Now?
Dead silence.
Darren sighed as he let himself into his room, shrugging off jacket, letting it fall to the floor carelessly. He dumped his wallet and phone on the bed before going to the bathroom, running the shower as hot as it could go before taking off the rest of his clothes. He couldn’t quite stop himself from glancing over at the mirror subconsciously.
It was funny, he’d never really thought much about his appearance at all. He knew he wasn’t... awful looking. It sounded pretty big headed to say he was good looking, and the only words he really had to go on were the ones from his friends back in San Fran and his parents - and they were hardly reliable. In all honesty, appearance had just really never mattered to him. As cliche as it sounded, in Darren’s eyes it was what was on the inside that mattered. What measure of worth did appearance amount to anyway? He never understood why people would introduce themselves with an age, with a gender, with the place they lived and their fucking sexual orientation. Who cared if you were blonde, blue eyed, female, straight, seventeen and living in California? Did that tell anyone that you were going to go on to move to Africa to work with starving children? Wasn’t it your dreams, your ambitions, your interests, your talents that showed who you were?
He’d always felt that way but he couldn’t stop that slight nagging that ate away at him now as he met his eyes in the mirror. Chris was correct - Maggie had always described her perfect boyfriend as someone very intelligent and opinionated, someone who would never expect her to submit and hold a conversation with where they were both equals. And yet, the guy she was with - what was he?
He was a good looking football player.
Darren had always thought he was smart, and the people who, in his eyes, settled were idiots - the same way Chris still thought, it seemed. But even Chris liked Grant; aesthetic and athletic, but also kind and intelligent. Where did Darren factor into that?
Would anyone really ever be interested in him?
Was that why Maggie had warned him not to fall for Chris? Because she thought he would never reach his standard?
All the thoughts wouldn’t stop swirling around his mind and the shower water was still running, splashing against the tile furiously and in the otherwise unnerving silence of their small house, compressed together by tight mundane walls and manufactured memories, the sound was deafening.
Darren fought off the urge to slide his hands over his ears, trying to block out the voices, and forced himself to stop looking into the mirror.
He got into the shower and revelled in the steaming hot water until it ran lukewarm, streaming down his pink, blotchy skin.
--
After he was showered and dressed he straight away climbed into bed, taking a book with him. Books had always relaxed him - it was that form of escape. No matter what he was feeling he could immediately forget it if the characters were inviting enough - he could take on their feelings instead.
Before he pulled out his book he managed to check his phone, unsure what to think as he read Chris’s text message.
I’m so sorry for leaving you alone. I promise I’ll pay you back for the whole dinner. I’m sorry you got caught up in all of that, it wasn’t fair for any of us to let that happen. Meet up tomorrow? I have something really, really important to talk about.
Before he fell asleep early that morning, he managed to text back with drowsy hands.
You have a lot of explaining to do.
When he rolled out of bed the next morning, at the sound of his alarm, Darren got his reply.
I’ll take you home after school.
--
Darren avoided him (and Maggie) as much as he could during the day. He kept his head down in the halls, got to all his classes on time and hung out in the library at lunch.
As promised, Chris waited for him outside the front gate after school, ready to pick him up.
Once they got out of the school, they didn’t go to the beach, or to Maggie’s house, or the diner or any of their other usual hangouts. Instead, they went to Chris’s house.
Darren had never been there before, and he was admittedly surprised when Chris told him that was where they were going. Darren didn’t object, though; he hardly said anything at all the entire car trip. He suspected Chris had a lot of talking to do when they got there, though.
He was correct.
Chris’s parents (and his sister) were both out when they arrived, leaving the house to themselves. It was nice, Darren thought; quite small, just like his own, and quite old fashioned with soft pastel walls and light curtains. Chris didn’t pay the space any mind, however, as he led him upstairs.
“Can I get you something to drink or anything?” he offered as they passed the kitchen, but Darren shook his head, so they continued up to his room.
His room was much the same as the rest of the house - styled in pastel colours, the walls a light cream. Chris had adorned it in posters, though, of his favourite directors and bands and movies. The bed was tucked away in the corner and the desk was at the heart of the space, littered in paper, his laptop securely closed and neatly put away in it’s case. There was other memorabilia around the place, and a record player that Darren admired longingly, but Chris gestured for him to sit down at the desk and Darren knew now wasn’t the time.
“First of all,” Chris began, his eyes wide and earnest, “I wanted to tell you again how sorry I am for last night-”
“I get it, Chris,” Darren cut in. “I don’t need to hear it again.”
Chris looked sad at his short answer but didn’t object, sighing as he wrung his hands a little, continuing.
“I didn’t mean for the fight to get out of hand like that,” he insisted. “I was being rude, I know. I should have tried harder. I just...” Chris shook his head, “I’ve heard bad things about him, Darren, and I don’t want her to get hurt.”
“I get that, Chris,” Darren sighed tiredly, “but you really should have left it at that, man. It’s between her and Ben. She never interfered between you and Grant.”
Chris coloured and Darren realised with embarrassment that she hadn’t - until now.
“That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about,” Chris said quietly, looking a lot more reluctant now.
“What-what happened?” Darren had to ask. “After he... he ran after you.”
Chris pursed his lips, pausing for a moment to regather his thoughts.
“He caught up with me in the carpark and he asked if we could go for a walk and talk things out,” Chris told him. “He... he heard everything she said.”
“And?” Darren prompted nervously.
Chris gave him a weak smile. “He said that she was only partially right.”
“Wh-what?”
“He told me he was straight,” Chris continued, his voice lifting a little, “and he... he kissed me.”
Oh.
Chris’s eyes turned away, almost wistfully and the closest thing to a smile he’d seen him wear all week broke out over his lips.
“He said that he wasn’t sure about his feelings,” Chris explained, “but that he wanted to give it a try... being a...” Chris chuckled softly, “being a something. And that he’d felt something for a while and that knowing I felt the same way made it seem so much easier.”
“But... what are you going to tell people?” Darren asked.
Chris shrugged. “I think he wants to keep it just between us, for now; until we figure things out for sure. But I... I wanted to tell you.”
Darren’s arms slipped around himself, hugging his body tight as if it would quell the sickening worry that spread throughout his stomach. He tried to keep his composure, but he couldn’t control the grimace that contorted his face.
“But what about you, Chris?” Darren insisted. “Are you really happy with that?”
“Yeah,” Chris said without missing a beat. “I am, Dare. I care about him; so so much. And this is more of a chance than I ever thought I’d have. And I’ll wait until he’s ready, and yeah, I want to tell everyone that we’re... that we’re something - but I won’t push him like that. I care enough about him to wait. No matter how long it takes.”
Darren considered his words for a few moments, swallowing thickly before he rose from his chair, moving towards him, eyes wide and earnest.
“Just promise me something,” he asked, trying not to beg. Chris nodded and Darren sighed. “Don’t wait around forever.”
Chris’s expression visibly softened and he drew Darren in for an all encompassing hug that sent warmth seeping right down to his toes.
“I promise,” he vowed.
--
Darren wasn’t quite ready to go back to the quiet of home, so he hung around for a bit and Chris put on a record and laid across his bed, writing while Darren looked through all his cd’s and books. Darren left when Chris’s parents got home, staying just long enough to meet his parents. They were lovely, and asked him if he wanted to stay for dinner, but he knew he had to go so he politely declined.
The rest of the night passed without event. Darren did all of his homework and wrote for a little while, absently checking facebook, hovering over Chris’s facebook profile, frowning a little at his relationship status, still firmly set to single. He shook his head at himself, exiting out before he did something stupid and went to bed, putting his IPod in and filling his head with music, trying to block out where his thoughts might take him.
The next morning Darren couldn’t help himself.
He met up with Chris at the school gate as usual (Maggie had been getting lifts with her new boyfriend apparently, and was still not speaking to Chris. She had no idea of what had happened between him and Grant and hadn’t even tried to apologise - but then again, Chris hadn’t either) and walked up with him to the school. They departed at Darren’s locker and once he got all his things out for his class he couldn’t resist wandering over to the senior’s locker area, seeking out Grant.
He didn’t want to confront him, necessarily. He just wanted to make sure he understood.
He found him quickly enough. He was so tall he was kind of hard to miss. He was dressed in his usual plaid shirt and nice fitted jeans, just casually getting his books out of his locker. He looked a little tired, Darren had to admit, but definitely not unhappy. He checked his phone for a moment and paused, smiling to himself before letting his locker fall shut.
It was Darren’s moment of opportunity.
“Excuse me,” Darren spoke up, clearing his throat as he moved towards him. Grant looked up at the sound of his voice, recognition splaying over his features as he smiled.
“Oh, hey, Darren-”
“I know.”
Grant was momentarily silent in the wake of Darren’s confession but didn’t look surprised, shrugging as he slung his bag over his shoulder.
“Okay,” he said simply. Darren raised his eyebrows at that.
“Okay?” he repeated. “I thought you didn’t want anybody to know.”
Grant gave him a curious look, smiling with almost amusement. “Chris trusts you,” he said. “So I think I can trust you... right?”
Darren pursed his lips. “That depends,” he said evenly. “What are your intentions with him?”
Grant let out a short laugh, definitely in amusement now. Darren tried not to back down or blush, folding his arms in determination.
“I like him,” Grant admitted softly. “A lot, Darren, and I have for a while. I... it’s very...” Grant looked like he was struggling for words for a moment, “it was very hard for me to come to terms with,” he settled upon. “But it’s how I feel and I want to try, Darren, I really do. And hurting him is the last thing on my agenda, if that was what you were asking.”
Even Darren couldn’t find fault with the genuineness in his eyes.
“Okay,” he said slowly, letting his arms fall to the side in defeat. “But know that if you do ever hurt him-”
“You’ll have my head on a platter,” Grant finished with a small smirk. “Got it.”
Darren nodded shortly. “Glad we cleared that up...”
The bell trilled over the speakers, and Darren hurried off to his class, grateful to have an excuse to leave honestly.
He realised later when he was moving off towards his first class that he hadn’t said the very thing he’d gone to say.
(“Please make each other very happy.”)
--
The rest of his day was pretty uneventful. It seemed so strange that so much could have changed so quickly, and the rest of the world could be so seemingly oblivious to it, continuing on as if everything was normal.
The rest of his days seemed to pass in similar succession. Nothing truly interesting happened at all. Everything fell into monotone with Chris and Maggie too busy spending time with their significant others to do anything with him outside school. He still sat with Chris at lunch but he always seemed so distracted.
For the first time in months, Darren didn’t feel like writing anything at all.
It was as if he had hit a case of a writers block. He began spending a lot more time sitting in his room watching guitar tutorials on youtube and playing alone. Music seemed so much easier now. It didn’t need words to make sense; the intent behind it was so much easier to maintain.
It was surprisingly easy to fall back into the school routine. The work was marginally harder, but Darren didn’t find it too strenuous. He still played in the orchestra, he still covered school events for the magazine (creative articles were now done by other students who had signed up to help now that the magazine was a legit establishment at the school), life still carried on.
(He still worried about Chris and he missed Maggie more each day).
They’d nearly been back at school two months when the posters appeared up, advertising the upcoming school dance. Darren had never been to one before, much preferring to stay home and watch movies with Maggie and Chris, even if a part of him did wish one day he might have someone special he’d like to take... He knew this time would definitely be different though. Everyone knew Maggie was going with Ben. What they didn’t know, and what Chris had admitted privately to Darren one afternoon after school, was that Chris was going, too.
With Grant.
“Are you sure that’s safe?” was Darren’s initial reaction. Their school had never been very... well, the whole town had never been very tolerant. But Chris shrugged it off.
“If I’m with him I don’t care,” he said simply. And Darren knew better than to argue with him.
(He did have to wonder, though, whether Grant had factored these things into consideration).
--
As it happened, Charlene rung up later that week, informing him that she was coming for a week visit soon - on the dates surrounding the dance, actually. It was coming up to his birthday and she wanted to be there with him to celebrate. Darren was grateful for the distraction, in all honesty. Especially since Chris had persuaded him to come to the dance, anyway.
“You don’t have to have a date!” he insisted. “Please, Dare, it’ll be fun. I’ll save a dance especially for you.”
The last sentence, of course, which was the deciding factor in his answer.
In all honesty, he wasn’t sure why that so much to him. It was strange how the little things in life, the offhand comments, the casual glances; they were the things that meant the most. He wasn’t sure what it meant when he felt warm all over when Chris hugged him goodnight, or why he got butterflies when he walked past him and he could smell the cologne he wore. There was a lot he didn’t know, actually.
But he did know that Chris had a... he had a something now. He had always had a something. And Darren didn’t have an anything. And Chris could never be his something. Maggie had warned him when they first met that he wasn’t allowed to fall for him, so he wouldn’t let himself.
But it hurt to think that it could be so damn easy.
--
The Friday before the dance he got an invitation to a party through Chris through Grant that he really had no interest in going to. But since football season hadn’t started up yet, his Friday nights had rarely involved leaving the house, so naturally he jumped at the chance to go.
Arriving, he realised he knew hardly anyone there. With a few beers in his system (feral things they were) he began to realise that it hardly mattered who he knew. He wandered around aimlessly as he pleased, danced with a few odd girls who didn’t even ask for his name, but thought he was ‘cute’. He had a few more beers and went outside for a while, ignoring the dope heads in the corner with the bong, content to watch the stars shimmering gracefully overhead.
He was pulled out of his thoughts, thankfully, before they could get too deep at the crash clutter of noise sounding in the bedroom above the deck. He frowned at the screams he could dimly hear in the background. No one out here seemed too bothered by it - in fact, with the music so loud he doubted they could hear it at all. But he couldn’t help the sickening worry that spread through his stomach at the sound of it. He could be wrong, but he couldn’t risk it if he wasn’t.
He didn’t know the house very well, never having been there before, but he managed to navigate his way through the throng of people and find the stairs that led upstairs. He checked every door frantically until he came to the one on the end, occupied by two alarmingly familiar faces, one cowering on the ground, sobbing, while the other raised his hand, looking like he was about to hit her.
“Get the fuck away from her!” Darren yelled, rushing in without a second thought, trying to pull Ben back. Gone, was the gentle, friendly, if not slightly blank boy Darren had met. His face was now contorted with rage and he shoved Darren back off him. Her entire body shuddering, Maggie pulled herself off the ground and ran into Darren’s arms.
“Leave me alone,” she screamed through her sobbing, hitting at Ben when he tried to come closer. “We’re done, okay?!”
“The fuck we-”
Darren hurried to get her out of there before Ben could finish with his threat. He ignored the stares as he led Maggie straight out the door. He had gotten a lift with his mom, who had been happy he was getting out of the house, but certainly wouldn’t be if she knew what had just happened.
“Come on,” he soothed, rubbing her back as he hurriedly led her out of the house, onto the street.”I think there’s a bus stop up the road.”
They didn’t talk as they walked, their steps hasty in fear of the all encompassing darkness. A few streetlights and the glow of the blissfully bright night guided their path as they hurried towards the end of the block where they found a small bus stop. Darren checked the timetable, squinting in the dark, and then checked his phone. The next bus came in ten minutes. He glanced back over to where Maggie was sitting, curled up in her seat, knees hugged with shaking arms to her chest.
He hadn’t seen her - actually seen her - in a good couple of months. Those months had definitely taken it’s toll on her. Gone were her retro clothes, replaced by a soft dress and sandals, her hair completely rid of streaks, her make up more natural than before. She was thinner, too - and she had already been quite thin.
“Oh Maggie...” he sighed, feeling guilt twist up deep inside him. God, why hadn’t he been there? “What happened?”
She let out a soft whimper and he moved over to wrap his arms around her. She leant into his shoulder.
“I heard a rumour,” she whispered, “that he was sleeping with another girl. We got into a fight about it and I tried to break things off but then he... he...”
“He hit you, didn’t he?” Darren breathed, shock and nausea rolling over him in dreadful waves.
She nodded slowly, her lower lip trembling, eyes brimming with tears once more.
“Please don’t tell Chris,” she whispered. “He warned me it would happen - he told me about all the rumours he’d heard about what he did to his girlfriends... but he was... he was so damn nice I never-”
“Shhh,” Darren soothed, rubbing her arm softly, holding her closer, “it’s okay, I won’t say anything, I promise... you’re safe now...”
The bus arrived moments later and Darren got off at Maggie’s stop making sure she was inside safely before calling his mom to come pick him up.
--
That night he couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning restlessly for hours before he gave up and curled up with one of his favourite books, reading by the lamplight.
The words swirled and swirled around his mind later when he finally felt calm enough to try again and there was just one phrase that wouldn’t leave his mind, even as he slipped into unconsciousness.
We accept the love we think we deserve.
--
Magdalena couldn’t help but be saddened by the tension that befell them as they began their journey back towards the village. She knew he must be angry that the entire trip had all been in vain and that help was closer than they thought, though she had been so reluctant to take it. Who was she to refuse a prince? How could she have been so rude?
Her mother would be ashamed.
“I’m sorry,” she spoke up quietly after a half an hour of nearly unendurable silence.
They kept walking, but Christopher’s eyes flickered towards her, under his hood. He smiled softly, slowly, and Magdalena felt relief creeping up inside of her.
“It’s fine,” he said. “I understand. You must be reluctant to listen to anyone who has not been entirely honest with you...”
“It wasn’t that,” Magdalena insisted quickly. “I just... this was something I thought I could do myself.”
“Well,” Christopher shrugged, smiling a little more truly now, “we all need a little help sometimes. Even princes,” he nudged her shoulder, making her laugh softly. “Let me tell you something, Magdalena... the greatest courage a human can bestow on oneself is the courage to say to another, I need help. And then you will know, truly and always, that you are not alone - never alone. For in the darkness there is always a light, but it is always easier to find with another’s sight, guiding you there.”
And for the rest of the journey, things didn’t seem so bad.
--
Chapter 9
pairing: colfer/criss
rating: nc-17 (for future chapters)
word count: 4000 (this part)
warnings for this chapter: physical abuse
summary: Darren has spent his whole life (literally) looking for the perfect fairytale, but will he miss out on what's been in front of him this whole time?
a/n: thanks to my magical angel Britt for beta-ing this one. i understand that last chapter maybe the whole fight with maggie and chris wasn't very well explained, but i hope it's more cleared up with this part xo
PROLOGUE PART PART PART 3 PART 4 ART 5 PART 6 PART
--
That night when Darren got home the entire house was already asleep and Darren let himself in quietly, creeping up the stairs. Everything seemed so much quieter now that Chuck was away. Usually he would be the last one up, his music always dimly heard through the walls.
Now?
Dead silence.
Darren sighed as he let himself into his room, shrugging off jacket, letting it fall to the floor carelessly. He dumped his wallet and phone on the bed before going to the bathroom, running the shower as hot as it could go before taking off the rest of his clothes. He couldn’t quite stop himself from glancing over at the mirror subconsciously.
It was funny, he’d never really thought much about his appearance at all. He knew he wasn’t... awful looking. It sounded pretty big headed to say he was good looking, and the only words he really had to go on were the ones from his friends back in San Fran and his parents - and they were hardly reliable. In all honesty, appearance had just really never mattered to him. As cliche as it sounded, in Darren’s eyes it was what was on the inside that mattered. What measure of worth did appearance amount to anyway? He never understood why people would introduce themselves with an age, with a gender, with the place they lived and their fucking sexual orientation. Who cared if you were blonde, blue eyed, female, straight, seventeen and living in California? Did that tell anyone that you were going to go on to move to Africa to work with starving children? Wasn’t it your dreams, your ambitions, your interests, your talents that showed who you were?
He’d always felt that way but he couldn’t stop that slight nagging that ate away at him now as he met his eyes in the mirror. Chris was correct - Maggie had always described her perfect boyfriend as someone very intelligent and opinionated, someone who would never expect her to submit and hold a conversation with where they were both equals. And yet, the guy she was with - what was he?
He was a good looking football player.
Darren had always thought he was smart, and the people who, in his eyes, settled were idiots - the same way Chris still thought, it seemed. But even Chris liked Grant; aesthetic and athletic, but also kind and intelligent. Where did Darren factor into that?
Would anyone really ever be interested in him?
Was that why Maggie had warned him not to fall for Chris? Because she thought he would never reach his standard?
All the thoughts wouldn’t stop swirling around his mind and the shower water was still running, splashing against the tile furiously and in the otherwise unnerving silence of their small house, compressed together by tight mundane walls and manufactured memories, the sound was deafening.
Darren fought off the urge to slide his hands over his ears, trying to block out the voices, and forced himself to stop looking into the mirror.
He got into the shower and revelled in the steaming hot water until it ran lukewarm, streaming down his pink, blotchy skin.
--
After he was showered and dressed he straight away climbed into bed, taking a book with him. Books had always relaxed him - it was that form of escape. No matter what he was feeling he could immediately forget it if the characters were inviting enough - he could take on their feelings instead.
Before he pulled out his book he managed to check his phone, unsure what to think as he read Chris’s text message.
I’m so sorry for leaving you alone. I promise I’ll pay you back for the whole dinner. I’m sorry you got caught up in all of that, it wasn’t fair for any of us to let that happen. Meet up tomorrow? I have something really, really important to talk about.
Before he fell asleep early that morning, he managed to text back with drowsy hands.
You have a lot of explaining to do.
When he rolled out of bed the next morning, at the sound of his alarm, Darren got his reply.
I’ll take you home after school.
--
Darren avoided him (and Maggie) as much as he could during the day. He kept his head down in the halls, got to all his classes on time and hung out in the library at lunch.
As promised, Chris waited for him outside the front gate after school, ready to pick him up.
Once they got out of the school, they didn’t go to the beach, or to Maggie’s house, or the diner or any of their other usual hangouts. Instead, they went to Chris’s house.
Darren had never been there before, and he was admittedly surprised when Chris told him that was where they were going. Darren didn’t object, though; he hardly said anything at all the entire car trip. He suspected Chris had a lot of talking to do when they got there, though.
He was correct.
Chris’s parents (and his sister) were both out when they arrived, leaving the house to themselves. It was nice, Darren thought; quite small, just like his own, and quite old fashioned with soft pastel walls and light curtains. Chris didn’t pay the space any mind, however, as he led him upstairs.
“Can I get you something to drink or anything?” he offered as they passed the kitchen, but Darren shook his head, so they continued up to his room.
His room was much the same as the rest of the house - styled in pastel colours, the walls a light cream. Chris had adorned it in posters, though, of his favourite directors and bands and movies. The bed was tucked away in the corner and the desk was at the heart of the space, littered in paper, his laptop securely closed and neatly put away in it’s case. There was other memorabilia around the place, and a record player that Darren admired longingly, but Chris gestured for him to sit down at the desk and Darren knew now wasn’t the time.
“First of all,” Chris began, his eyes wide and earnest, “I wanted to tell you again how sorry I am for last night-”
“I get it, Chris,” Darren cut in. “I don’t need to hear it again.”
Chris looked sad at his short answer but didn’t object, sighing as he wrung his hands a little, continuing.
“I didn’t mean for the fight to get out of hand like that,” he insisted. “I was being rude, I know. I should have tried harder. I just...” Chris shook his head, “I’ve heard bad things about him, Darren, and I don’t want her to get hurt.”
“I get that, Chris,” Darren sighed tiredly, “but you really should have left it at that, man. It’s between her and Ben. She never interfered between you and Grant.”
Chris coloured and Darren realised with embarrassment that she hadn’t - until now.
“That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about,” Chris said quietly, looking a lot more reluctant now.
“What-what happened?” Darren had to ask. “After he... he ran after you.”
Chris pursed his lips, pausing for a moment to regather his thoughts.
“He caught up with me in the carpark and he asked if we could go for a walk and talk things out,” Chris told him. “He... he heard everything she said.”
“And?” Darren prompted nervously.
Chris gave him a weak smile. “He said that she was only partially right.”
“Wh-what?”
“He told me he was straight,” Chris continued, his voice lifting a little, “and he... he kissed me.”
Oh.
Chris’s eyes turned away, almost wistfully and the closest thing to a smile he’d seen him wear all week broke out over his lips.
“He said that he wasn’t sure about his feelings,” Chris explained, “but that he wanted to give it a try... being a...” Chris chuckled softly, “being a something. And that he’d felt something for a while and that knowing I felt the same way made it seem so much easier.”
“But... what are you going to tell people?” Darren asked.
Chris shrugged. “I think he wants to keep it just between us, for now; until we figure things out for sure. But I... I wanted to tell you.”
Darren’s arms slipped around himself, hugging his body tight as if it would quell the sickening worry that spread throughout his stomach. He tried to keep his composure, but he couldn’t control the grimace that contorted his face.
“But what about you, Chris?” Darren insisted. “Are you really happy with that?”
“Yeah,” Chris said without missing a beat. “I am, Dare. I care about him; so so much. And this is more of a chance than I ever thought I’d have. And I’ll wait until he’s ready, and yeah, I want to tell everyone that we’re... that we’re something - but I won’t push him like that. I care enough about him to wait. No matter how long it takes.”
Darren considered his words for a few moments, swallowing thickly before he rose from his chair, moving towards him, eyes wide and earnest.
“Just promise me something,” he asked, trying not to beg. Chris nodded and Darren sighed. “Don’t wait around forever.”
Chris’s expression visibly softened and he drew Darren in for an all encompassing hug that sent warmth seeping right down to his toes.
“I promise,” he vowed.
--
Darren wasn’t quite ready to go back to the quiet of home, so he hung around for a bit and Chris put on a record and laid across his bed, writing while Darren looked through all his cd’s and books. Darren left when Chris’s parents got home, staying just long enough to meet his parents. They were lovely, and asked him if he wanted to stay for dinner, but he knew he had to go so he politely declined.
The rest of the night passed without event. Darren did all of his homework and wrote for a little while, absently checking facebook, hovering over Chris’s facebook profile, frowning a little at his relationship status, still firmly set to single. He shook his head at himself, exiting out before he did something stupid and went to bed, putting his IPod in and filling his head with music, trying to block out where his thoughts might take him.
The next morning Darren couldn’t help himself.
He met up with Chris at the school gate as usual (Maggie had been getting lifts with her new boyfriend apparently, and was still not speaking to Chris. She had no idea of what had happened between him and Grant and hadn’t even tried to apologise - but then again, Chris hadn’t either) and walked up with him to the school. They departed at Darren’s locker and once he got all his things out for his class he couldn’t resist wandering over to the senior’s locker area, seeking out Grant.
He didn’t want to confront him, necessarily. He just wanted to make sure he understood.
He found him quickly enough. He was so tall he was kind of hard to miss. He was dressed in his usual plaid shirt and nice fitted jeans, just casually getting his books out of his locker. He looked a little tired, Darren had to admit, but definitely not unhappy. He checked his phone for a moment and paused, smiling to himself before letting his locker fall shut.
It was Darren’s moment of opportunity.
“Excuse me,” Darren spoke up, clearing his throat as he moved towards him. Grant looked up at the sound of his voice, recognition splaying over his features as he smiled.
“Oh, hey, Darren-”
“I know.”
Grant was momentarily silent in the wake of Darren’s confession but didn’t look surprised, shrugging as he slung his bag over his shoulder.
“Okay,” he said simply. Darren raised his eyebrows at that.
“Okay?” he repeated. “I thought you didn’t want anybody to know.”
Grant gave him a curious look, smiling with almost amusement. “Chris trusts you,” he said. “So I think I can trust you... right?”
Darren pursed his lips. “That depends,” he said evenly. “What are your intentions with him?”
Grant let out a short laugh, definitely in amusement now. Darren tried not to back down or blush, folding his arms in determination.
“I like him,” Grant admitted softly. “A lot, Darren, and I have for a while. I... it’s very...” Grant looked like he was struggling for words for a moment, “it was very hard for me to come to terms with,” he settled upon. “But it’s how I feel and I want to try, Darren, I really do. And hurting him is the last thing on my agenda, if that was what you were asking.”
Even Darren couldn’t find fault with the genuineness in his eyes.
“Okay,” he said slowly, letting his arms fall to the side in defeat. “But know that if you do ever hurt him-”
“You’ll have my head on a platter,” Grant finished with a small smirk. “Got it.”
Darren nodded shortly. “Glad we cleared that up...”
The bell trilled over the speakers, and Darren hurried off to his class, grateful to have an excuse to leave honestly.
He realised later when he was moving off towards his first class that he hadn’t said the very thing he’d gone to say.
(“Please make each other very happy.”)
--
The rest of his day was pretty uneventful. It seemed so strange that so much could have changed so quickly, and the rest of the world could be so seemingly oblivious to it, continuing on as if everything was normal.
The rest of his days seemed to pass in similar succession. Nothing truly interesting happened at all. Everything fell into monotone with Chris and Maggie too busy spending time with their significant others to do anything with him outside school. He still sat with Chris at lunch but he always seemed so distracted.
For the first time in months, Darren didn’t feel like writing anything at all.
It was as if he had hit a case of a writers block. He began spending a lot more time sitting in his room watching guitar tutorials on youtube and playing alone. Music seemed so much easier now. It didn’t need words to make sense; the intent behind it was so much easier to maintain.
It was surprisingly easy to fall back into the school routine. The work was marginally harder, but Darren didn’t find it too strenuous. He still played in the orchestra, he still covered school events for the magazine (creative articles were now done by other students who had signed up to help now that the magazine was a legit establishment at the school), life still carried on.
(He still worried about Chris and he missed Maggie more each day).
They’d nearly been back at school two months when the posters appeared up, advertising the upcoming school dance. Darren had never been to one before, much preferring to stay home and watch movies with Maggie and Chris, even if a part of him did wish one day he might have someone special he’d like to take... He knew this time would definitely be different though. Everyone knew Maggie was going with Ben. What they didn’t know, and what Chris had admitted privately to Darren one afternoon after school, was that Chris was going, too.
With Grant.
“Are you sure that’s safe?” was Darren’s initial reaction. Their school had never been very... well, the whole town had never been very tolerant. But Chris shrugged it off.
“If I’m with him I don’t care,” he said simply. And Darren knew better than to argue with him.
(He did have to wonder, though, whether Grant had factored these things into consideration).
--
As it happened, Charlene rung up later that week, informing him that she was coming for a week visit soon - on the dates surrounding the dance, actually. It was coming up to his birthday and she wanted to be there with him to celebrate. Darren was grateful for the distraction, in all honesty. Especially since Chris had persuaded him to come to the dance, anyway.
“You don’t have to have a date!” he insisted. “Please, Dare, it’ll be fun. I’ll save a dance especially for you.”
The last sentence, of course, which was the deciding factor in his answer.
In all honesty, he wasn’t sure why that so much to him. It was strange how the little things in life, the offhand comments, the casual glances; they were the things that meant the most. He wasn’t sure what it meant when he felt warm all over when Chris hugged him goodnight, or why he got butterflies when he walked past him and he could smell the cologne he wore. There was a lot he didn’t know, actually.
But he did know that Chris had a... he had a something now. He had always had a something. And Darren didn’t have an anything. And Chris could never be his something. Maggie had warned him when they first met that he wasn’t allowed to fall for him, so he wouldn’t let himself.
But it hurt to think that it could be so damn easy.
--
The Friday before the dance he got an invitation to a party through Chris through Grant that he really had no interest in going to. But since football season hadn’t started up yet, his Friday nights had rarely involved leaving the house, so naturally he jumped at the chance to go.
Arriving, he realised he knew hardly anyone there. With a few beers in his system (feral things they were) he began to realise that it hardly mattered who he knew. He wandered around aimlessly as he pleased, danced with a few odd girls who didn’t even ask for his name, but thought he was ‘cute’. He had a few more beers and went outside for a while, ignoring the dope heads in the corner with the bong, content to watch the stars shimmering gracefully overhead.
He was pulled out of his thoughts, thankfully, before they could get too deep at the crash clutter of noise sounding in the bedroom above the deck. He frowned at the screams he could dimly hear in the background. No one out here seemed too bothered by it - in fact, with the music so loud he doubted they could hear it at all. But he couldn’t help the sickening worry that spread through his stomach at the sound of it. He could be wrong, but he couldn’t risk it if he wasn’t.
He didn’t know the house very well, never having been there before, but he managed to navigate his way through the throng of people and find the stairs that led upstairs. He checked every door frantically until he came to the one on the end, occupied by two alarmingly familiar faces, one cowering on the ground, sobbing, while the other raised his hand, looking like he was about to hit her.
“Get the fuck away from her!” Darren yelled, rushing in without a second thought, trying to pull Ben back. Gone, was the gentle, friendly, if not slightly blank boy Darren had met. His face was now contorted with rage and he shoved Darren back off him. Her entire body shuddering, Maggie pulled herself off the ground and ran into Darren’s arms.
“Leave me alone,” she screamed through her sobbing, hitting at Ben when he tried to come closer. “We’re done, okay?!”
“The fuck we-”
Darren hurried to get her out of there before Ben could finish with his threat. He ignored the stares as he led Maggie straight out the door. He had gotten a lift with his mom, who had been happy he was getting out of the house, but certainly wouldn’t be if she knew what had just happened.
“Come on,” he soothed, rubbing her back as he hurriedly led her out of the house, onto the street.”I think there’s a bus stop up the road.”
They didn’t talk as they walked, their steps hasty in fear of the all encompassing darkness. A few streetlights and the glow of the blissfully bright night guided their path as they hurried towards the end of the block where they found a small bus stop. Darren checked the timetable, squinting in the dark, and then checked his phone. The next bus came in ten minutes. He glanced back over to where Maggie was sitting, curled up in her seat, knees hugged with shaking arms to her chest.
He hadn’t seen her - actually seen her - in a good couple of months. Those months had definitely taken it’s toll on her. Gone were her retro clothes, replaced by a soft dress and sandals, her hair completely rid of streaks, her make up more natural than before. She was thinner, too - and she had already been quite thin.
“Oh Maggie...” he sighed, feeling guilt twist up deep inside him. God, why hadn’t he been there? “What happened?”
She let out a soft whimper and he moved over to wrap his arms around her. She leant into his shoulder.
“I heard a rumour,” she whispered, “that he was sleeping with another girl. We got into a fight about it and I tried to break things off but then he... he...”
“He hit you, didn’t he?” Darren breathed, shock and nausea rolling over him in dreadful waves.
She nodded slowly, her lower lip trembling, eyes brimming with tears once more.
“Please don’t tell Chris,” she whispered. “He warned me it would happen - he told me about all the rumours he’d heard about what he did to his girlfriends... but he was... he was so damn nice I never-”
“Shhh,” Darren soothed, rubbing her arm softly, holding her closer, “it’s okay, I won’t say anything, I promise... you’re safe now...”
The bus arrived moments later and Darren got off at Maggie’s stop making sure she was inside safely before calling his mom to come pick him up.
--
That night he couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning restlessly for hours before he gave up and curled up with one of his favourite books, reading by the lamplight.
The words swirled and swirled around his mind later when he finally felt calm enough to try again and there was just one phrase that wouldn’t leave his mind, even as he slipped into unconsciousness.
We accept the love we think we deserve.
--
Magdalena couldn’t help but be saddened by the tension that befell them as they began their journey back towards the village. She knew he must be angry that the entire trip had all been in vain and that help was closer than they thought, though she had been so reluctant to take it. Who was she to refuse a prince? How could she have been so rude?
Her mother would be ashamed.
“I’m sorry,” she spoke up quietly after a half an hour of nearly unendurable silence.
They kept walking, but Christopher’s eyes flickered towards her, under his hood. He smiled softly, slowly, and Magdalena felt relief creeping up inside of her.
“It’s fine,” he said. “I understand. You must be reluctant to listen to anyone who has not been entirely honest with you...”
“It wasn’t that,” Magdalena insisted quickly. “I just... this was something I thought I could do myself.”
“Well,” Christopher shrugged, smiling a little more truly now, “we all need a little help sometimes. Even princes,” he nudged her shoulder, making her laugh softly. “Let me tell you something, Magdalena... the greatest courage a human can bestow on oneself is the courage to say to another, I need help. And then you will know, truly and always, that you are not alone - never alone. For in the darkness there is always a light, but it is always easier to find with another’s sight, guiding you there.”
And for the rest of the journey, things didn’t seem so bad.
--
Chapter 9