(no subject)
This is my first story post here. Sorry it's taken so long to get around to doing it.
Title: A Broken Sky
Author: E*A, me
Rating: R (death)
Pairing: Joel/OFC and Brandon/OFC (Good Charlotte and Incubus x-over)
Summary: For 14 months and 12 days everything was perfect.
I can remember when loving her wasn’t an option. I remember hearing her brother ramble on and on about how he was so amazing, how he got them all back stage, how he wasn’t an artificial jackass.
I remember sitting in my bunk, listening to Max go on and on about her, his sister, Andrea. I’d listen only because I wanted to look for even the slightest hint that he was treating her badly so I could sweep in and save her from him, Mr. Wonderful.
I’d call him Mr. Wonderful because he was flawless. He was a great musician, a fantastic artist, and, as all the girls would say, hot. I hated Mr. Wonderful and everything that came with him. I knew he wouldn’t love her like I could. There was no way and that was what I based my hate on. I loved his music, I had all his CDs, and I had been to a concert of his.
And when Mr. Wonderful cheated on her, I was the first person she came crying to. I held her and told her it was all okay and that everything was going to be alright, and she believed me. And it was.
The next day, we burned all his CDs, ticket stubs, t-shirts, pictures, everything with the name “INCUBUS” on the front. And Brandon Boyd was dead, at least to us he was.
With his ‘death’, I was reborn. I felt alive, for the first time in my life, and it felt so good to just be with her and know that she was out there.
For 14 months and 12 days, I’ve slept next to her, held her, kissed her, and loved her.
For 14 months and 12 days, she was all mine and I loved her more than life, more than family, more than anything imaginable.
For 14 months and eight days, Brandon Boyd was dead.
Four days ago, Brandon was reborn, and I died.
Andrea found that picture of him that had escaped the fire and hid beneath her bed for 14 months and eight days. She found that picture, his phone number, a mix tape, and a letter.
She found her love for him hidden in an old Converse shoe box beneath her bed when she was packing her room up to come live with me.
Four days ago Andrea made a call to Brandon and they talked, and she cried, and he told her it was okay and that he was flying out to New York to get her and take her back home to be with him.
14 months and 12 days ago, I she called me, and I flew out to California to get her and bring her home. I told her it was okay.
I never cheated on her. I never hit her, purposely hurt her, made her cry, stood her up, or left her feeling lonely. I never had to. She left on that plane and went back to Brandon.
He told her he was sorry, that he never meant to hurt her, and all the other things he had felt.
He wrote her poems and gave her flowers and drew picture with markers on her skin and I was colored out of her mind forever.
She called me and told me what happened, that we were over, that she never meant to hurt me and that I’d find someone soon. She said she’d understand if I hated her.
I could never hate her for wanting to be happy, even if it meant ruining me and killing me and creating a throbbing pain in my gut.
As long as Andrea’s happy, I’d die for her.
And when I closed my eyes after that last pill slid down my throat, it was all okay, because her picture was permanently embedded in my mind.
Her porcelain skin and gemstone eyes were the only things that I saw when everything else went black.
Her silky hair and smooth skin that was stretched across her perfectly places bones were the last things I felt when the pills started to kick in and everything went numb.
The pain drifted away slowly as the world disappeared and the sky broke apart and there she was…
Don't forget to be nice and review.
Title: A Broken Sky
Author: E*A, me
Rating: R (death)
Pairing: Joel/OFC and Brandon/OFC (Good Charlotte and Incubus x-over)
Summary: For 14 months and 12 days everything was perfect.
I can remember when loving her wasn’t an option. I remember hearing her brother ramble on and on about how he was so amazing, how he got them all back stage, how he wasn’t an artificial jackass.
I remember sitting in my bunk, listening to Max go on and on about her, his sister, Andrea. I’d listen only because I wanted to look for even the slightest hint that he was treating her badly so I could sweep in and save her from him, Mr. Wonderful.
I’d call him Mr. Wonderful because he was flawless. He was a great musician, a fantastic artist, and, as all the girls would say, hot. I hated Mr. Wonderful and everything that came with him. I knew he wouldn’t love her like I could. There was no way and that was what I based my hate on. I loved his music, I had all his CDs, and I had been to a concert of his.
And when Mr. Wonderful cheated on her, I was the first person she came crying to. I held her and told her it was all okay and that everything was going to be alright, and she believed me. And it was.
The next day, we burned all his CDs, ticket stubs, t-shirts, pictures, everything with the name “INCUBUS” on the front. And Brandon Boyd was dead, at least to us he was.
With his ‘death’, I was reborn. I felt alive, for the first time in my life, and it felt so good to just be with her and know that she was out there.
For 14 months and 12 days, I’ve slept next to her, held her, kissed her, and loved her.
For 14 months and 12 days, she was all mine and I loved her more than life, more than family, more than anything imaginable.
For 14 months and eight days, Brandon Boyd was dead.
Four days ago, Brandon was reborn, and I died.
Andrea found that picture of him that had escaped the fire and hid beneath her bed for 14 months and eight days. She found that picture, his phone number, a mix tape, and a letter.
She found her love for him hidden in an old Converse shoe box beneath her bed when she was packing her room up to come live with me.
Four days ago Andrea made a call to Brandon and they talked, and she cried, and he told her it was okay and that he was flying out to New York to get her and take her back home to be with him.
14 months and 12 days ago, I she called me, and I flew out to California to get her and bring her home. I told her it was okay.
I never cheated on her. I never hit her, purposely hurt her, made her cry, stood her up, or left her feeling lonely. I never had to. She left on that plane and went back to Brandon.
He told her he was sorry, that he never meant to hurt her, and all the other things he had felt.
He wrote her poems and gave her flowers and drew picture with markers on her skin and I was colored out of her mind forever.
She called me and told me what happened, that we were over, that she never meant to hurt me and that I’d find someone soon. She said she’d understand if I hated her.
I could never hate her for wanting to be happy, even if it meant ruining me and killing me and creating a throbbing pain in my gut.
As long as Andrea’s happy, I’d die for her.
And when I closed my eyes after that last pill slid down my throat, it was all okay, because her picture was permanently embedded in my mind.
Her porcelain skin and gemstone eyes were the only things that I saw when everything else went black.
Her silky hair and smooth skin that was stretched across her perfectly places bones were the last things I felt when the pills started to kick in and everything went numb.
The pain drifted away slowly as the world disappeared and the sky broke apart and there she was…
Don't forget to be nice and review.