Love's Requiem - Chapter One
Title: Love's Requiem
Author: runbabyrun69
Pairing: Ville/OFC
Rating: PG - PG 13, I guess.
Summary: I'm bad with summaries. There's a girl, a boy, and a bunch of Finnish rockers XD
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, never happened. I only own the original characters.
Warnings: Swearing, I guess. Implied sex.
Authors Notes: This is my first ever fic, so go easy on me. Sorry for any spelling or grammatical errors, I currently don't have a Beta. If anyone wants the job, let me know :D Also, I don't know exactly when Razorblade Romance was released, or if they toured, where they toured or anything like that. Which is why this is called "fiction".
So, yeah. Read on, and let me know if it's worth continuing ^-^
28 February 2000
“That was great,” Jetta-Lynn mumbled seductively, trying to hide the fact that she was lying. Sex was always about making Jason feel good, not her, as she had learned long ago.
Her partner grunted a quick response and rolled onto his side, slowly drifting off to sleep, his back facing towards Jetta.
She sighed and rolled over to face him, lightly tracing her fingers along her boyfriend’s spine.
“You’re distracting me,” Jason mumbled into the pillow his face was buried in.
“Oh?” Jetta replied, gently tracing her lips along the contours of his back, “distracting you from what, exactly?”
“Sleep. I have an interview tomorrow.”
Jetta sighed again and snuggled in closer to her partner. “Good night, then,” she mumbled, but he was already asleep.
Knowing that it would be a long time before she would be able to sleep, she carefully slid out of the bed, so as not to wake Jason, and plodded along to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea.
Sitting at a bar stool in the too large kitchen with a steaming cup of herbal tea clutched in her hands, Jetta felt her phone vibrate in the pocket of her dressing gown, silently thanking herself for thinking to bring it downstairs with her instead of leaving it on her bedside table. If the vibration had have woken Jase, he would not have been pleased.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Shnookums!"
Jetta smiled at the familiar voice of her best friend of fifteen years, Lisa. “Hey, how are you?”
“Drunk!” her friend squealed into the phone. To avoid further hearing damage, Jetta held the phone at arms length away from her ear as Lisa shouted at whoever she was drinking with. “Why aren’t you out tonight?”
“Jason finished work early today.”
“Oh,” Lisa answered, needing no further explanation. “He’s a fuck-stain you know, Joanie.”
“Lisa, stop calling me Joanie,” Jetta tried to say sternly, unable to hide the smile behind her voice. Lisa’s favourite band was Joan Jett and the Blackhearts and she had taken to calling Jetta ‘Joanie’ when others thought to nickname her Jett.
“You know you love it. So, speaking of the devil, where is he?”
“Who? Oh, you mean Jase? He’s asleep.”
“You should come out! We’re at this bar in the city, HIM are playing soon!”
“Who?”
“Come on, Joanie. We’ve been friends for how long, and you still don’t know the names of my favourite bands. You need to be educated.”
“I am educated, thank you very much. Were it not for KISS, Guns n’ Roses and Led Zeppelin, none of your so called rock bands would even be allowed to play anywhere, with the exception of their own basements, thank you very much.”
“Oh, pish posh. HIM are amazing. Pleeeeeeeease come out? This will be the first gig they’ve ever played here! This is a moment in their career not to be missed. Plus, I haven’t seen you in weeks.” Jetta could basically hear the pout in her friends voice.
“Lisa, I can’t. Jason has to work tomorrow, I’ll need to be alive enough in the morning to make his breakfast.”
“There’s a coffee shop in the fuckin’ studio,” Lisa slurred. “He can find his own breakfast for once.”
Jetta sighed, not responding lest Jason should wake up and become upset with her for having such a discussion.
“Joooooaniiiiiiie, please?”
Jetta heard footsteps in her and Jason’s bedroom upstairs.
“Lisa, I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” she disconnected the call before her friend could protest and raced upstairs, her cup of tea forgotten on the kitchen counter.
“Jetta-Lynn,” Jason called out to her.
“Yeah?” she mumbled, peaking around the door frame of their bed room.
“Who were you talking to?”
“Err, Lisa,” she cringed. She knew that Jason didn’t like Lisa, and Lisa hated him right back.
“Ahh. How is Lisa?” he spat the girls name between clenched teeth.
“Good, I guess...”
“Good. Why did she call you so late?”
“I don’t really know, just to chat probably. We didn’t talk long, I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Well, you did wake me, and you know that I have to work in the morning,”
“I know. I’m sorry,”
“It wasn’t very nice of you to be talking so loud when I’m trying to sleep, Jetta-Lynn,”
“I said I’m sorry,” she mumbled under her breath.
“What was that?”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “Let’s go back to bed. I’m sorry for waking you.” She curled up on her side of the bed and pulled the blankets over her head, avoiding his accusing eyes.
***
1st March 2000
~ Ville's POV~
I closed my eyes, inhaling through my nose deeply, breathing in the sweet scent of Spring-time flowers and warm, early evening air. The sun was just setting over the horizon as I walked at a leisurely pace through the park, stopping at a bench in front of a small, clear lake to fish a cigarette from my pocket. Lighting up, I sat down and stared out across the water. Having lived in Helsinki for as long as I could remember, I was used to cold weather, but I had to admit that the warm breeze lightly swirling around me was a nice and very welcome change. That being said, I was anxious to return to my home town. This was the first real tour my band had ever been on, and truth be told, I was exhausted and slightly dreading the remaining two months of the tour.
I love performing, but after a while, gig, interview, beer, sleep, gig, interview, beer, sleep becomes tedious. Many a time during the first month of the tour, I had asked myself what the hell I had gotten myself into.
Creating music was my passion, and now people actually want to hear my creations. I knew that I could never stop writing music, no matter how much I disliked the touring aspect of it. Who knows, maybe it wouldn’t even last. Maybe our next album will be a complete disaster and we will be forced to retire the band. The possibility that I could come to enjoy touring, at the very least break out the monotonous pattern we had already become engrossed in seemed unfeasible.
I still struggled terribly with the nagging thought of being away from my home, my parents, and my shitty apartment for such a lengthy part of the year. As small and unsightly as my apartment was, I loved it. It was the first place I had ever lived after moving out of my parent’s home. Lord knows, I’ve had the money to move into a better place from the success of our first album, but I felt strangely attached to the shit hole.
Still pining for my home, a contented sigh from directly behind me pulled me from my bittersweet reverie. Turning my head slightly to peer over my shoulder at the source of the distraction, my eyes were promptly drawn to the most beautiful hair I had ever seen. Delicate, dark chocolate curls hung to the waist of a faceless girl who was sitting in a patch of clover behind my bench, surrounded by a cloud of smoke, her head bent over to focus on the task in front of her.
Slowly rising from my seat, curiosity overwhelming me, I timidly walked around the park bench to stand in front of the girl, leaving a good two metres between us. The girl appeared to be making a chain out of the clovers she sat amongst. Hair obscuring much of her face, I quickly took in her bodily features, trying to figure out how old she was. She didn’t have the body of a child, plus there was a half smoked cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth, poking through her hair. If she wasn’t careful, the exquisite locks would get burnt. Still, I hardly expected a grown woman to be making flower chains
The sleeves of her thin purple jumper were pushed up to her elbows, revealing pale skin and a small tattoo of a quaver on the outside of her wrist, the hem of her long black skirt was hitched around her knees, her exposed thin, yet slightly curvaceous legs stretching out in front of her, her bare toes tangled in the grass. Such a simple sight, but beautifully enticing.
Softly spoken words from the girl brought me crashing back to earth, staring intently into her eyes as they peered through the curtain of hair at me, “Are you going to help me or just stand there staring?”
She had a very quiet voice, I barely heard what she had said. “I’m sorry, what?” God, I’m an idiot. She motioned towards a pile of flower chains she had already made. “Oh.” I sank towards the cushy ground, sitting in front of her and crossing my legs. I looked out at the clover in front of me and picked the fullest blossom I could find, twirling it between my fingers momentarily before realising that I had absolutely no idea how to do... whatever it was she was really doing. “Uhh... what exactly are we doing?”
“I’m making necklaces but you seem to be having issues with this,” she replied, glancing at the solitary flower between my thumb and forefinger. “Here, copy this.” She handed me one of the flower chains she had already made and turned back to thread another flower into her chain.
I studied the chain intently, trying to figure out how she managed to get them to thread together so easily. Dropping the necklace to the ground, I resumed the twirling of my flower between my fingers again, staring dejectedly at the chain lying before me.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted under my breath.
“Speak up, Sonny; I haven’t got my hearing aid in.”
Chuckling quietly, I asked “could you show me how?”
“You don’t know how to make clover necklaces?”
“No,” I admitted sheepishly.
“Hmm. It’s easy as pie, come, I’ll show you,” shuffling towards me, she held her hands in front of me, one hand holding the chain she had been working on, the other holding a fresh flower. “See, you get the stem of the last flower, poke a hole in the end with your fingernail and slide the stem of the next one through. Like this, see?” she demonstrated as she spoke, sliding the stem through the hole with ease. “Here, try it with me,”
Picking another flower, I copied her movements. “That’s right,” she smiled at me, full pink lips stretching into a breathtaking grin across small, white teeth.
“It’s not as easy as you make it look,” I grumbled. She giggled at the disgruntled expression on my face. “You’ll get the hang of it. Try again,” she urged. Copying her instructions again, I smiled triumphantly at the slowly progressing chain.
“So, miss...?”
“Jetta-Lynn,” she grimaced. “Jetta, or Jet.” she turned back to continue her necklace.
“Ville,”
“Vill-uh?”
”Close enough,” I grinned at her. Suddenly self conscious about the small gap between my front teeth, the smile faded quickly. “So, Jetta, why are we making flower necklaces?”
She glanced up at me, the expression on her face implying that I had missed something painfully obvious. “It’s the first day of Spring. We’re celebrating.” She stated matter of factly.
A throaty chuckle escaped my lips before I mentioned “I’ve not met anyone who celebrates the first day of Spring before, let alone someone who celebrates anything by making clover necklaces,”
She shrugged dismissively, linking the ends of her chain together and putting it around her neck.
“How do I put the ends together?”
She took my chain away and twiddled her fingers around, linking the ends and slipping it over my head.
“Thanks,”
She shrugged at me again.
“Do you do this every year?” she nodded. “It’s nice a nice idea. I don't really understand, though. Why celebrate Spring?”
“It’s my favourite season. Not too hot, not too cold - the perfect temperature. Plus, the flowers start blooming again, it’s like the world is coming back from the dead.”
“Oh. You don’t like the cold?”
“Not really, but it’s not just that. Like I said, Spring is like the world is resurrected. During Winter, everything is so... lifeless, colourless...”
I chuckled. “You would hate Helsinki,” I stated, smirking slightly.
“Hel-what?”
“Helsinki. My home town.” My smirk faded as I was again reminded of the fact that I was far away from my home, not to return for another two months.
“Is it in Europe?”
“Finland, yes. It gets extremely cold there. Arctic Circle, and all that. Did you know that Santa Claus is from Finland?”
“He is not!”
“He is, I promise.” I drew an invisible cross over my heart to prove my point.
“I don’t believe you,”
“Come to Finland and find out, then.”
“I’ll pass,” she waved her hand dismissively. “You said it’s cold.”
“Ah, it’s not so bad once you get used to it. Forgive me, but if you don’t like the cold, why do you live in London?”
“Uhh, my partner had to move here for work. I tagged along for the ride, I guess.”
“I see,” I nodded, trying not to let my disappointment show, but it must have been written all over my face. I should’ve expected it, though. A pretty girl like her... Of course she would have a boyfriend.
“Speaking of which, I need to go home,” she stood up and dusted loose grass off her skirt. “It was lovely to meet you Vill-uh,”
“You too, Jetta-Lynn,” she cringed again.
Lighting a cigarette as she started to walk away, she turned slightly and waved a final good bye before calling “Happy first day of Spring!” over her shoulder.
I watched her walk away until she was completely out of my line of sight then knelt on the ground again to pick up all of her discarded clover necklaces before turning back towards the club the band were to be playing at soon, followed by oodles of beer.
Author: runbabyrun69
Pairing: Ville/OFC
Rating: PG - PG 13, I guess.
Summary: I'm bad with summaries. There's a girl, a boy, and a bunch of Finnish rockers XD
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, never happened. I only own the original characters.
Warnings: Swearing, I guess. Implied sex.
Authors Notes: This is my first ever fic, so go easy on me. Sorry for any spelling or grammatical errors, I currently don't have a Beta. If anyone wants the job, let me know :D Also, I don't know exactly when Razorblade Romance was released, or if they toured, where they toured or anything like that. Which is why this is called "fiction".
So, yeah. Read on, and let me know if it's worth continuing ^-^
28 February 2000
“That was great,” Jetta-Lynn mumbled seductively, trying to hide the fact that she was lying. Sex was always about making Jason feel good, not her, as she had learned long ago.
Her partner grunted a quick response and rolled onto his side, slowly drifting off to sleep, his back facing towards Jetta.
She sighed and rolled over to face him, lightly tracing her fingers along her boyfriend’s spine.
“You’re distracting me,” Jason mumbled into the pillow his face was buried in.
“Oh?” Jetta replied, gently tracing her lips along the contours of his back, “distracting you from what, exactly?”
“Sleep. I have an interview tomorrow.”
Jetta sighed again and snuggled in closer to her partner. “Good night, then,” she mumbled, but he was already asleep.
Knowing that it would be a long time before she would be able to sleep, she carefully slid out of the bed, so as not to wake Jason, and plodded along to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea.
Sitting at a bar stool in the too large kitchen with a steaming cup of herbal tea clutched in her hands, Jetta felt her phone vibrate in the pocket of her dressing gown, silently thanking herself for thinking to bring it downstairs with her instead of leaving it on her bedside table. If the vibration had have woken Jase, he would not have been pleased.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Shnookums!"
Jetta smiled at the familiar voice of her best friend of fifteen years, Lisa. “Hey, how are you?”
“Drunk!” her friend squealed into the phone. To avoid further hearing damage, Jetta held the phone at arms length away from her ear as Lisa shouted at whoever she was drinking with. “Why aren’t you out tonight?”
“Jason finished work early today.”
“Oh,” Lisa answered, needing no further explanation. “He’s a fuck-stain you know, Joanie.”
“Lisa, stop calling me Joanie,” Jetta tried to say sternly, unable to hide the smile behind her voice. Lisa’s favourite band was Joan Jett and the Blackhearts and she had taken to calling Jetta ‘Joanie’ when others thought to nickname her Jett.
“You know you love it. So, speaking of the devil, where is he?”
“Who? Oh, you mean Jase? He’s asleep.”
“You should come out! We’re at this bar in the city, HIM are playing soon!”
“Who?”
“Come on, Joanie. We’ve been friends for how long, and you still don’t know the names of my favourite bands. You need to be educated.”
“I am educated, thank you very much. Were it not for KISS, Guns n’ Roses and Led Zeppelin, none of your so called rock bands would even be allowed to play anywhere, with the exception of their own basements, thank you very much.”
“Oh, pish posh. HIM are amazing. Pleeeeeeeease come out? This will be the first gig they’ve ever played here! This is a moment in their career not to be missed. Plus, I haven’t seen you in weeks.” Jetta could basically hear the pout in her friends voice.
“Lisa, I can’t. Jason has to work tomorrow, I’ll need to be alive enough in the morning to make his breakfast.”
“There’s a coffee shop in the fuckin’ studio,” Lisa slurred. “He can find his own breakfast for once.”
Jetta sighed, not responding lest Jason should wake up and become upset with her for having such a discussion.
“Joooooaniiiiiiie, please?”
Jetta heard footsteps in her and Jason’s bedroom upstairs.
“Lisa, I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” she disconnected the call before her friend could protest and raced upstairs, her cup of tea forgotten on the kitchen counter.
“Jetta-Lynn,” Jason called out to her.
“Yeah?” she mumbled, peaking around the door frame of their bed room.
“Who were you talking to?”
“Err, Lisa,” she cringed. She knew that Jason didn’t like Lisa, and Lisa hated him right back.
“Ahh. How is Lisa?” he spat the girls name between clenched teeth.
“Good, I guess...”
“Good. Why did she call you so late?”
“I don’t really know, just to chat probably. We didn’t talk long, I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Well, you did wake me, and you know that I have to work in the morning,”
“I know. I’m sorry,”
“It wasn’t very nice of you to be talking so loud when I’m trying to sleep, Jetta-Lynn,”
“I said I’m sorry,” she mumbled under her breath.
“What was that?”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “Let’s go back to bed. I’m sorry for waking you.” She curled up on her side of the bed and pulled the blankets over her head, avoiding his accusing eyes.
***
1st March 2000
~ Ville's POV~
I closed my eyes, inhaling through my nose deeply, breathing in the sweet scent of Spring-time flowers and warm, early evening air. The sun was just setting over the horizon as I walked at a leisurely pace through the park, stopping at a bench in front of a small, clear lake to fish a cigarette from my pocket. Lighting up, I sat down and stared out across the water. Having lived in Helsinki for as long as I could remember, I was used to cold weather, but I had to admit that the warm breeze lightly swirling around me was a nice and very welcome change. That being said, I was anxious to return to my home town. This was the first real tour my band had ever been on, and truth be told, I was exhausted and slightly dreading the remaining two months of the tour.
I love performing, but after a while, gig, interview, beer, sleep, gig, interview, beer, sleep becomes tedious. Many a time during the first month of the tour, I had asked myself what the hell I had gotten myself into.
Creating music was my passion, and now people actually want to hear my creations. I knew that I could never stop writing music, no matter how much I disliked the touring aspect of it. Who knows, maybe it wouldn’t even last. Maybe our next album will be a complete disaster and we will be forced to retire the band. The possibility that I could come to enjoy touring, at the very least break out the monotonous pattern we had already become engrossed in seemed unfeasible.
I still struggled terribly with the nagging thought of being away from my home, my parents, and my shitty apartment for such a lengthy part of the year. As small and unsightly as my apartment was, I loved it. It was the first place I had ever lived after moving out of my parent’s home. Lord knows, I’ve had the money to move into a better place from the success of our first album, but I felt strangely attached to the shit hole.
Still pining for my home, a contented sigh from directly behind me pulled me from my bittersweet reverie. Turning my head slightly to peer over my shoulder at the source of the distraction, my eyes were promptly drawn to the most beautiful hair I had ever seen. Delicate, dark chocolate curls hung to the waist of a faceless girl who was sitting in a patch of clover behind my bench, surrounded by a cloud of smoke, her head bent over to focus on the task in front of her.
Slowly rising from my seat, curiosity overwhelming me, I timidly walked around the park bench to stand in front of the girl, leaving a good two metres between us. The girl appeared to be making a chain out of the clovers she sat amongst. Hair obscuring much of her face, I quickly took in her bodily features, trying to figure out how old she was. She didn’t have the body of a child, plus there was a half smoked cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth, poking through her hair. If she wasn’t careful, the exquisite locks would get burnt. Still, I hardly expected a grown woman to be making flower chains
The sleeves of her thin purple jumper were pushed up to her elbows, revealing pale skin and a small tattoo of a quaver on the outside of her wrist, the hem of her long black skirt was hitched around her knees, her exposed thin, yet slightly curvaceous legs stretching out in front of her, her bare toes tangled in the grass. Such a simple sight, but beautifully enticing.
Softly spoken words from the girl brought me crashing back to earth, staring intently into her eyes as they peered through the curtain of hair at me, “Are you going to help me or just stand there staring?”
She had a very quiet voice, I barely heard what she had said. “I’m sorry, what?” God, I’m an idiot. She motioned towards a pile of flower chains she had already made. “Oh.” I sank towards the cushy ground, sitting in front of her and crossing my legs. I looked out at the clover in front of me and picked the fullest blossom I could find, twirling it between my fingers momentarily before realising that I had absolutely no idea how to do... whatever it was she was really doing. “Uhh... what exactly are we doing?”
“I’m making necklaces but you seem to be having issues with this,” she replied, glancing at the solitary flower between my thumb and forefinger. “Here, copy this.” She handed me one of the flower chains she had already made and turned back to thread another flower into her chain.
I studied the chain intently, trying to figure out how she managed to get them to thread together so easily. Dropping the necklace to the ground, I resumed the twirling of my flower between my fingers again, staring dejectedly at the chain lying before me.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted under my breath.
“Speak up, Sonny; I haven’t got my hearing aid in.”
Chuckling quietly, I asked “could you show me how?”
“You don’t know how to make clover necklaces?”
“No,” I admitted sheepishly.
“Hmm. It’s easy as pie, come, I’ll show you,” shuffling towards me, she held her hands in front of me, one hand holding the chain she had been working on, the other holding a fresh flower. “See, you get the stem of the last flower, poke a hole in the end with your fingernail and slide the stem of the next one through. Like this, see?” she demonstrated as she spoke, sliding the stem through the hole with ease. “Here, try it with me,”
Picking another flower, I copied her movements. “That’s right,” she smiled at me, full pink lips stretching into a breathtaking grin across small, white teeth.
“It’s not as easy as you make it look,” I grumbled. She giggled at the disgruntled expression on my face. “You’ll get the hang of it. Try again,” she urged. Copying her instructions again, I smiled triumphantly at the slowly progressing chain.
“So, miss...?”
“Jetta-Lynn,” she grimaced. “Jetta, or Jet.” she turned back to continue her necklace.
“Ville,”
“Vill-uh?”
”Close enough,” I grinned at her. Suddenly self conscious about the small gap between my front teeth, the smile faded quickly. “So, Jetta, why are we making flower necklaces?”
She glanced up at me, the expression on her face implying that I had missed something painfully obvious. “It’s the first day of Spring. We’re celebrating.” She stated matter of factly.
A throaty chuckle escaped my lips before I mentioned “I’ve not met anyone who celebrates the first day of Spring before, let alone someone who celebrates anything by making clover necklaces,”
She shrugged dismissively, linking the ends of her chain together and putting it around her neck.
“How do I put the ends together?”
She took my chain away and twiddled her fingers around, linking the ends and slipping it over my head.
“Thanks,”
She shrugged at me again.
“Do you do this every year?” she nodded. “It’s nice a nice idea. I don't really understand, though. Why celebrate Spring?”
“It’s my favourite season. Not too hot, not too cold - the perfect temperature. Plus, the flowers start blooming again, it’s like the world is coming back from the dead.”
“Oh. You don’t like the cold?”
“Not really, but it’s not just that. Like I said, Spring is like the world is resurrected. During Winter, everything is so... lifeless, colourless...”
I chuckled. “You would hate Helsinki,” I stated, smirking slightly.
“Hel-what?”
“Helsinki. My home town.” My smirk faded as I was again reminded of the fact that I was far away from my home, not to return for another two months.
“Is it in Europe?”
“Finland, yes. It gets extremely cold there. Arctic Circle, and all that. Did you know that Santa Claus is from Finland?”
“He is not!”
“He is, I promise.” I drew an invisible cross over my heart to prove my point.
“I don’t believe you,”
“Come to Finland and find out, then.”
“I’ll pass,” she waved her hand dismissively. “You said it’s cold.”
“Ah, it’s not so bad once you get used to it. Forgive me, but if you don’t like the cold, why do you live in London?”
“Uhh, my partner had to move here for work. I tagged along for the ride, I guess.”
“I see,” I nodded, trying not to let my disappointment show, but it must have been written all over my face. I should’ve expected it, though. A pretty girl like her... Of course she would have a boyfriend.
“Speaking of which, I need to go home,” she stood up and dusted loose grass off her skirt. “It was lovely to meet you Vill-uh,”
“You too, Jetta-Lynn,” she cringed again.
Lighting a cigarette as she started to walk away, she turned slightly and waved a final good bye before calling “Happy first day of Spring!” over her shoulder.
I watched her walk away until she was completely out of my line of sight then knelt on the ground again to pick up all of her discarded clover necklaces before turning back towards the club the band were to be playing at soon, followed by oodles of beer.