Nothing Matters...

[_fredless]

[She's tucked up on the roof again, legs up under her as Fred considers the last few weeks. Her part in them, and even more? Her part out of them. She's not surprised by the weariness that follows her thoughts, causing her to press her cheek hard down into her knee. The pressure is oddly soothing.

She lingers there until her face begins to throb, until she finally looks back up towards the night sky. And begins to sing...]

♪Dance with me, my old friend♪
♪Once before we go♪

[Fred stands. Stretches. Acknowledges the faint tingling in her limbs as they protest being twisted up for so long, all the while letting her thoughts drift back towards home and her folks. Back to something simpler. Saturday afternoons. Her father's reluctant indulgence of her mother's love of the old movies that used to play on the weekends]

♪Let's pretend this song won't end♪
♪And we never have to go home♪
♪And we'll dance among the chandeliers♪

♪And nothing matters when we're dancing♪
♪In tat or tatters, you're entrancing♪
♪Be we in Paris or in Lansing♪
♪Nothing matters when we're dancing♪

[There's a naked wistfulness in her voice, one she's not bothering to mask. For homes, here and there. Fred closes her eyes and begins to echo her father's awkward box step. It might be troublesome, moving about a roof with your eyes closed like that. But in some ways she knows it better than her own room]

♪You've never been more beautiful♪
♪Your eyes like two full moons♪
♪As here in this poor old dance hall♪
♪Among the dreadful tunes♪
♪The awful songs we don't even hear♪

♪And nothing matters when we're dancing♪
♪In tat or tatters you're entrancing♪
♪Be we in Paris or in Lansing♪
♪Nothing matters when we're dancing♪