Life On Hold [G]
[title] Life On Hold
[author] Lire Casander
[beta] clionona. Any remaining mistakes are my own fault.
[character] David Cook
[rating] G
[word count] 545
[summary] it is a lullaby for the broken hearted, and he willingly allows himself to fall into it
[disclaimer] I don't own nor have ever met David Cook. Everything about him is completely fiction, and any similarity with reality is a mere coincidence. I don't own Peace Of Mind or Axium either.
[warnings] There are really no warnings. I don't think this belongs to any particular genre, anyway. Title taken from Axium's song Peace Of Mind.
[author's notes] Written in a rush after the latest news in the fandom regarding David Cook's brother Adam. I thought maybe you all needed some kind of comfort, and though I don't exactly know if this can count as comforting fiction, I am hoping it will help you in a way. I am not crossposting this to the comms as of yet; I expect to be able to do so during the week.
[dedication] To storylandqueen. I hope you are feeling better, honey, and that this helps you heal too.
Thanks to sara84 for the wise advice and the hand holding. This story is for you, as much as for the rest of the world, but mainly for you - because you too need someone to take care of you.
[ADDITIONAL WARNING] Although there is NO talk of character death in this story, I understand that due to the short time span between the news surfacing and me posting this fic, it could offend and/or hurt feelings among the readers. Please be sure that you want to read this before clicking the link. I will not be held responsible afterwards.
It is cold and dark outside when he stares through the window. The shivers down his spine make him tremble but he doesn't stand up to go for a blanket. He prefers the chill sweeping through his skin to the calm heat of a safety blanket in a night like this. He prefers the loneliness of an empty night to the comfort of a bed shared with a shadow.
He is alone.
He remembers the days when he didn't need anyone to feel complete, when life was simple and love was just another game he liked to play. Those times are long since gone and all he has now is a broken memory of how it felt to be free and careless, how it felt to be young. His life changed drastically when he auditioned for that reality show, when he made the cut, when he won the damn thing. Everything became more complex, more rushed, more unbearable, to the extent where he wouldn't take a step without being controlled, without being questioned and interrogated. Publicists and journalists took over an existence that had been normal, comfortable, happy, and turned it into this horrible lifestyle where all he could do was hold onto the edges of the reality he still recognizes as his.
Some things haven't changed, though, and he is hanging from the fine thread that links him to the memories of a past that is better than any future he may have ahead. And today, when everything has been turned over a song he knows he shouldn't be sharing with the world, a song he is sure he will never be able to perform live ever again, today he needs to believe that the future will not come and the past will take its place. Because the pain is just too raw, the tears are just too fresh, the feelings are just too close to the surface. He has always worn his heart on his sleeve, and he has never cared about how people took onto that, but today he just feels like wrapping himself in the darkness embrace and sleeping numbly for eternity.
He never hears the steps leading to where he is sitting, still staring into the night. He never acknowledges the heavy weight of a soft blanket thrown over him. He never tears his gaze from the emptiness engulfing everything to look into the eyes that are gazing at him worryingly, caringly, lovingly. But he feels those arms around his waist, those hands pressing into his sides to pull him into a deep embrace, that breath tickling in his ear words of strength and love, that heartbeat singing in tune with his, erratic and broken yet alive and pounding. It is a lullaby for the broken hearted, and he willingly allows himself to fall into it.
It is cold and dark outside, but he is not looking anymore.
He is safe, tucked into his lover's arms, until the day comes. He will face reality then, but for now, all he needs is to believe that his future is not a dream waiting to come true. It is a reality, and he has to welcome it for all he has lost in the process of becoming who he wants to be.
[author] Lire Casander
[beta] clionona. Any remaining mistakes are my own fault.
[character] David Cook
[rating] G
[word count] 545
[summary] it is a lullaby for the broken hearted, and he willingly allows himself to fall into it
[disclaimer] I don't own nor have ever met David Cook. Everything about him is completely fiction, and any similarity with reality is a mere coincidence. I don't own Peace Of Mind or Axium either.
[warnings] There are really no warnings. I don't think this belongs to any particular genre, anyway. Title taken from Axium's song Peace Of Mind.
[author's notes] Written in a rush after the latest news in the fandom regarding David Cook's brother Adam. I thought maybe you all needed some kind of comfort, and though I don't exactly know if this can count as comforting fiction, I am hoping it will help you in a way. I am not crossposting this to the comms as of yet; I expect to be able to do so during the week.
[dedication] To storylandqueen. I hope you are feeling better, honey, and that this helps you heal too.
Thanks to sara84 for the wise advice and the hand holding. This story is for you, as much as for the rest of the world, but mainly for you - because you too need someone to take care of you.
[ADDITIONAL WARNING] Although there is NO talk of character death in this story, I understand that due to the short time span between the news surfacing and me posting this fic, it could offend and/or hurt feelings among the readers. Please be sure that you want to read this before clicking the link. I will not be held responsible afterwards.
It is cold and dark outside when he stares through the window. The shivers down his spine make him tremble but he doesn't stand up to go for a blanket. He prefers the chill sweeping through his skin to the calm heat of a safety blanket in a night like this. He prefers the loneliness of an empty night to the comfort of a bed shared with a shadow.
He is alone.
He remembers the days when he didn't need anyone to feel complete, when life was simple and love was just another game he liked to play. Those times are long since gone and all he has now is a broken memory of how it felt to be free and careless, how it felt to be young. His life changed drastically when he auditioned for that reality show, when he made the cut, when he won the damn thing. Everything became more complex, more rushed, more unbearable, to the extent where he wouldn't take a step without being controlled, without being questioned and interrogated. Publicists and journalists took over an existence that had been normal, comfortable, happy, and turned it into this horrible lifestyle where all he could do was hold onto the edges of the reality he still recognizes as his.
Some things haven't changed, though, and he is hanging from the fine thread that links him to the memories of a past that is better than any future he may have ahead. And today, when everything has been turned over a song he knows he shouldn't be sharing with the world, a song he is sure he will never be able to perform live ever again, today he needs to believe that the future will not come and the past will take its place. Because the pain is just too raw, the tears are just too fresh, the feelings are just too close to the surface. He has always worn his heart on his sleeve, and he has never cared about how people took onto that, but today he just feels like wrapping himself in the darkness embrace and sleeping numbly for eternity.
He never hears the steps leading to where he is sitting, still staring into the night. He never acknowledges the heavy weight of a soft blanket thrown over him. He never tears his gaze from the emptiness engulfing everything to look into the eyes that are gazing at him worryingly, caringly, lovingly. But he feels those arms around his waist, those hands pressing into his sides to pull him into a deep embrace, that breath tickling in his ear words of strength and love, that heartbeat singing in tune with his, erratic and broken yet alive and pounding. It is a lullaby for the broken hearted, and he willingly allows himself to fall into it.
It is cold and dark outside, but he is not looking anymore.
He is safe, tucked into his lover's arms, until the day comes. He will face reality then, but for now, all he needs is to believe that his future is not a dream waiting to come true. It is a reality, and he has to welcome it for all he has lost in the process of becoming who he wants to be.