Untitled (as of yet) Crookie fic Chapter 2 / 9
Title: Still untitled :(
Pairing: Crook and Brooke
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I still don't own them
Summary: Cook is falling more and more in love with Brooke. Could she feel the same?
Of course that next week I sang “Hello” as per Brooke’s suggestion and the judges were pleased, but at that point it wasn’t them I wasn’t trying to impress. Brooke came to me after the show and couldn’t hide her smile. She threw her arms around me and told me how much she enjoyed my “Cookified” version of the song. That was when the pressure was released in a heavy sigh as she held me in her arms. Her approval had become more important than Simon’s in my eyes. If she liked my performance then that was my gold star. That’s when I knew I had done well and that brought me a sense of happiness that I had never felt before.
Brooke’s critiques became a weekly after taping tradition. Her honest criticisms of my songs were one of the few things I looked forward to each week. We would sit backstage or in the idol’s lounge or even in the dressing room to discuss how we felt about the other’s performances. My Tuesday night post show discussions with Brooke were the things that made or broke my day. They almost always made my day.
As the weeks went on my feelings for her only deepened. She shared with me her dreams of a major studio album and the kinds of songs she would want to sing. I sat with her as she began the writing process and often asked for my opinion about what she had done so far, but there was always one song that she held back from me. I wanted to ask her why, but I knew she would let me hear it when she was ready. We even talked about writing some songs together.
“The Sunshine Rocker,” Brooke laughed as she squeezed my hand. “Our song would absolutely be called ‘The Sunshine Rocker’.”
I could barely even hear her voice. The feeling of my hand in hers caused a warmth that spread throughout my entire body.
I knew that I should be pulling away from her, but I found myself aching to be with her every second of our long idol days. I found ways to be close to her. Backstage I would inch closer to her until I was standing by her side. I made sure wherever I was sitting or standing she was in my line of sight. Even though I knew that she was completely infatuated with her husband I couldn’t help but think that sometimes she was watching me.
I would be busy rehearsing or even hanging out with Michael backstage and I would catch her gaze. She would hold onto it for a second and then turn her attention elsewhere. I always chalked it up to my over- active imagination. “She couldn’t want the same things as me,” I would think to myself. She was married and saw me as only her friend. But if she weren’t married could she see me as more? Did she want our friendship to be more? Sometimes I would pretend that she did because I couldn’t help myself.
Brooke was the one who was there for me the night Michael was eliminated. She held my hand and hugged me after our last meal as the top 8. I could tell she would miss Michael as well, but her pain seemed to stem more from my hurt than it did from her own. Her concern that night was to make me feel better instead of herself. As we rode back to the apartment complex alone she grasped my un-steady hand in her own.
“You know, Cook, he’ll be ok. A few years from now we’ll both be sitting at one of his concerts,” Brooke smiled, rubbing her thumb softly across the top of my hand.
“I know. I’ll just miss him that’s all,” I said as the tears began to flow from my eyes. Normally I would be doing everything in my power to keep my emotions bottled up tight, but I couldn’t do that with her. I knew she would see right through my frail disguise and bring my tears out anyway. Brooke just had a way of making me do things I would have never done around any other girls. I had never cried in front of any other girl. I felt comfortable around her. I felt safe.
“I know, sweetie. I know,” she said calmingly, taking me into her arms yet again.
With her, I felt I could be myself, my true self and letting my emotions out in a non-musical way felt ok. The comfort and calm of her embrace made me feel like letting go was all right.
I know other people in her situation might continue talking, trying to ease my pain, but Brooke knew that wasn’t necessary. She knew holding me was all I needed from her at that moment.
“She was hippie sheik, he was a rocker geek,” Brooke sang softly after we had hugged in silence for what seemed like forever. It had been so long that I hadn’t even noticed that the van had long since stopped and was parked in front of our building.
“What?” I spoke hoarsely, pulling back from her far enough to gaze into her beautiful, blue eyes.
“She was sunshine and he rocked to his own beat,” she continued to sing, but louder.
“Is this-“
“The Sunshine Rocker? You’re darn right it is!” she giggled. “I hope you don’t mind that I started writing without you. The lyrics just found their way into my head one day.”
A smile found my lips as I continued to look at her. She was completely and utterly amazing. She made me laugh at a time when I was sure a laugh wasn’t possible.
“I think I can find it in my being to forgive you if you let me write the next verse.”
“Of course,” she said with a Cheshire-like grin. She had done her job. She had me feel better and that in turn seemed to put her at ease as well. “But I get to write the music!” We laughed heartily as we exited the van and made our way to our apartments for the night.
Pairing: Crook and Brooke
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I still don't own them
Summary: Cook is falling more and more in love with Brooke. Could she feel the same?
Of course that next week I sang “Hello” as per Brooke’s suggestion and the judges were pleased, but at that point it wasn’t them I wasn’t trying to impress. Brooke came to me after the show and couldn’t hide her smile. She threw her arms around me and told me how much she enjoyed my “Cookified” version of the song. That was when the pressure was released in a heavy sigh as she held me in her arms. Her approval had become more important than Simon’s in my eyes. If she liked my performance then that was my gold star. That’s when I knew I had done well and that brought me a sense of happiness that I had never felt before.
Brooke’s critiques became a weekly after taping tradition. Her honest criticisms of my songs were one of the few things I looked forward to each week. We would sit backstage or in the idol’s lounge or even in the dressing room to discuss how we felt about the other’s performances. My Tuesday night post show discussions with Brooke were the things that made or broke my day. They almost always made my day.
As the weeks went on my feelings for her only deepened. She shared with me her dreams of a major studio album and the kinds of songs she would want to sing. I sat with her as she began the writing process and often asked for my opinion about what she had done so far, but there was always one song that she held back from me. I wanted to ask her why, but I knew she would let me hear it when she was ready. We even talked about writing some songs together.
“The Sunshine Rocker,” Brooke laughed as she squeezed my hand. “Our song would absolutely be called ‘The Sunshine Rocker’.”
I could barely even hear her voice. The feeling of my hand in hers caused a warmth that spread throughout my entire body.
I knew that I should be pulling away from her, but I found myself aching to be with her every second of our long idol days. I found ways to be close to her. Backstage I would inch closer to her until I was standing by her side. I made sure wherever I was sitting or standing she was in my line of sight. Even though I knew that she was completely infatuated with her husband I couldn’t help but think that sometimes she was watching me.
I would be busy rehearsing or even hanging out with Michael backstage and I would catch her gaze. She would hold onto it for a second and then turn her attention elsewhere. I always chalked it up to my over- active imagination. “She couldn’t want the same things as me,” I would think to myself. She was married and saw me as only her friend. But if she weren’t married could she see me as more? Did she want our friendship to be more? Sometimes I would pretend that she did because I couldn’t help myself.
Brooke was the one who was there for me the night Michael was eliminated. She held my hand and hugged me after our last meal as the top 8. I could tell she would miss Michael as well, but her pain seemed to stem more from my hurt than it did from her own. Her concern that night was to make me feel better instead of herself. As we rode back to the apartment complex alone she grasped my un-steady hand in her own.
“You know, Cook, he’ll be ok. A few years from now we’ll both be sitting at one of his concerts,” Brooke smiled, rubbing her thumb softly across the top of my hand.
“I know. I’ll just miss him that’s all,” I said as the tears began to flow from my eyes. Normally I would be doing everything in my power to keep my emotions bottled up tight, but I couldn’t do that with her. I knew she would see right through my frail disguise and bring my tears out anyway. Brooke just had a way of making me do things I would have never done around any other girls. I had never cried in front of any other girl. I felt comfortable around her. I felt safe.
“I know, sweetie. I know,” she said calmingly, taking me into her arms yet again.
With her, I felt I could be myself, my true self and letting my emotions out in a non-musical way felt ok. The comfort and calm of her embrace made me feel like letting go was all right.
I know other people in her situation might continue talking, trying to ease my pain, but Brooke knew that wasn’t necessary. She knew holding me was all I needed from her at that moment.
“She was hippie sheik, he was a rocker geek,” Brooke sang softly after we had hugged in silence for what seemed like forever. It had been so long that I hadn’t even noticed that the van had long since stopped and was parked in front of our building.
“What?” I spoke hoarsely, pulling back from her far enough to gaze into her beautiful, blue eyes.
“She was sunshine and he rocked to his own beat,” she continued to sing, but louder.
“Is this-“
“The Sunshine Rocker? You’re darn right it is!” she giggled. “I hope you don’t mind that I started writing without you. The lyrics just found their way into my head one day.”
A smile found my lips as I continued to look at her. She was completely and utterly amazing. She made me laugh at a time when I was sure a laugh wasn’t possible.
“I think I can find it in my being to forgive you if you let me write the next verse.”
“Of course,” she said with a Cheshire-like grin. She had done her job. She had me feel better and that in turn seemed to put her at ease as well. “But I get to write the music!” We laughed heartily as we exited the van and made our way to our apartments for the night.