Part Two
Title: Between Your Plastic Smile and Transparent Lies
Chapter: Two
Rating: PG-13ish for this chapter.
Disclaimer: Despite debates on another thread, there has been no confirmation of Ville and Vam going at it. The situation never happened. HIM owns the song.
Summary: He pretends to smile and someone refuses to pretend they don't notice. "If you smile like that at me one more time I'm going to slap it off your face."
Previous chapter in cut.
Chapter One
***
Between Your Plastic Smile & Transparent Lies
Part Two
Ever amazed how bright are the flames we are burning in
Ever smiled at the tragedies we have locked deep inside
Bam pulled away after a few more minutes, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, making sure not to look at Ville. “I-I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Ville said, bringing a hand up to wipe at Bam’s tear-stained cheek.
“I didn’t want you to see me like this.” Bam whispered, his voice still trembling from so much crying. “I’m not supposed to be like this.”
“Yeah, I know.” Ville said, still stroking Bam’s cheek. “You’re supposed to be fucking invincible, right?”
“I wish.” There came another pathetic laugh. “I just want to be able to smile for everyone.” He turned to look at Ville. “What’s so wrong with that?”
“You can’t.” Ville said flatly. “You can’t smile for everyone. And as long as you pretend that you can . . .” Softly, he pressed his lips to Bam’s temple and pulled the younger man back into his arms. “One day you’re going to get fed up with pretending. And I don’t know what you’ll do. Bammie . . . that scares me.”
Bam rested his forehead against the crook in Ville’s shoulder, his breaths falling across the skin of Ville’s neck. “I’m sorry.” he whispered. “I don’t mean to.”
Ville sighed, absently running a hand through Bam’s hair. “I know, love. I know.”
It was quiet for a moment before the blue-eyed boy spoke again. “It hurts.” he whispered against Ville’s pale skin.
“What hurts, love?”
“Something inside.” The voice was choked. “Something inside hurts.”
Then it was silent again. Two strong arms held tight to the trembling body as if terrified it might dissipate without human contact.
“I want show you something.” Ville whispered. Bam pulled away, thick lashes shadowing his heartbreaking eyes. Slowly, as if in a movie, Ville stood, pulling his friend to his feet. Clasping Bam’s hands tightly in his own, he walked toward the balcony, turning away from Bam just long enough to open the door.
The cool air of September danced across their skin as the pair made their way to the edge of the balcony, looking out over the dirty city called Los Angeles.
“I was here once.” Ville said after a pause. “Right where you’re standing, only there wasn’t anyone where I am.” Two blue eyes were fixed on him as he spoke. He pointed. “See the cars down there? That street would have been blocked off with yellow tape.”
“Why didn’t you?” Bam asked, clutching tighter to his friend’s hands, crystal orbs searching Ville’s green eyes for answers.
“Stupid really.” Ville said with a sad little laugh stained with memory. “We had one more concert and I didn’t want to fuck it up, the tour. Four more days, I figured, just enough to make something all right. And three days later . . .” Ville pressed his lips to the other man’s forehead. “Three days later, I met you.”
“And I kept you from jumping off a balcony?” Bam scoffed.
Ville smiled. “No, you just made me realize that I could have been born mentally handicapped like you and-“
Bam punched him playfully, his own smile returning. His own real smile. Or a shadow of it. But something had to cast that shadow. Ville watched that face turn to look off the balcony again, looking up as if those eyes could pierce through the smog hiding the starlit sky. He watched the eyes glance downward at the cars, counting headlights and blinkers, bumper stickers and convertibles.
“I never wanted to die.” Bam said suddenly. “I never wanted that. I just wanted it to stop hurting. Even if it was for a second.”
“When did it start?” Ville asked gently. His hands released his friend’s as they both leaned against the railing of the balcony. He stared at the blue eyed boy staring out at nothing at all.
“Couple of years ago.” Bam answered. “But . . . I don’t remember why. There was something, I just don’t remember what.”
“There isn’t always-“
“But there was for me.” Bam said, cutting off the unfinished sentence. “Something . . .” He shook his head and glanced at Ville’s concerned face before turning and reentering the hotel room. He sat down, leaning against the headboard of his bed. He ran a hand tiredly through his brown hair and gave Ville a weary smile as he sat down. “How’d you know where to find me?” he asked.
“I got a phone call. Someone begging me to make sure you weren’t shooting up on Sunset Strip.” Ville said.
“Mom?” Bam asked.
“Yeah.” Ville tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “She’s worried about you. They all are. Me, too.” Bam looked at his hands guiltily. “It’s not bad to have people who worry about you, love. It means they care.”
“I . . .” Bam yawned. “I know.” His eyes fluttered shut drowsily. They opened again to find Ville smiling at him. “I’m tired.” he said defensively.
“Then get some sleep.” Ville said.
“What the fuck’d you think I was trying to do?” Bam said irritably.
“You big baby.” Ville laughed and moved to stand up, but Bam grabbed his wrist.
“Stay with me?” he asked pleadingly.
Ville nodded, running his hand gently across the other’s forehead and down the side of his face. “Let me have a cigarette and I’ll be right in.”
He stepped onto the balcony and fumbled with first the cigarette, then the lighter. After a few drags and a few times dropping his lighter, he angrily stomped on it, glancing inside to see a sleeping Bam and a stuffed teddy bear exposed from under the comforter.
He chuckled and turned to look at the buildings surrounding him. He faltered at the murmured words escaping his friend’s mouth. He couldn’t make them out, but the sound of his voice . . .
He put the cigarette out and stepped back into the room, shutting the glass door. He took a few steps toward the burgundy chair and sat down, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand.
Ville stayed that way for some time, just staring at the sleeping boy in the other bed. Then, although he knew Bam wanted him to sleep in his bed, he pulled back the comforter on the vacant one and fell asleep almost instantly.
He didn’t trust himself at that point in time.
Not for a moment.
---TBC---
Reviews?
Chapter: Two
Rating: PG-13ish for this chapter.
Disclaimer: Despite debates on another thread, there has been no confirmation of Ville and Vam going at it. The situation never happened. HIM owns the song.
Summary: He pretends to smile and someone refuses to pretend they don't notice. "If you smile like that at me one more time I'm going to slap it off your face."
Previous chapter in cut.
Chapter One
***
Between Your Plastic Smile & Transparent Lies
Part Two
Ever amazed how bright are the flames we are burning in
Ever smiled at the tragedies we have locked deep inside
Bam pulled away after a few more minutes, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, making sure not to look at Ville. “I-I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Ville said, bringing a hand up to wipe at Bam’s tear-stained cheek.
“I didn’t want you to see me like this.” Bam whispered, his voice still trembling from so much crying. “I’m not supposed to be like this.”
“Yeah, I know.” Ville said, still stroking Bam’s cheek. “You’re supposed to be fucking invincible, right?”
“I wish.” There came another pathetic laugh. “I just want to be able to smile for everyone.” He turned to look at Ville. “What’s so wrong with that?”
“You can’t.” Ville said flatly. “You can’t smile for everyone. And as long as you pretend that you can . . .” Softly, he pressed his lips to Bam’s temple and pulled the younger man back into his arms. “One day you’re going to get fed up with pretending. And I don’t know what you’ll do. Bammie . . . that scares me.”
Bam rested his forehead against the crook in Ville’s shoulder, his breaths falling across the skin of Ville’s neck. “I’m sorry.” he whispered. “I don’t mean to.”
Ville sighed, absently running a hand through Bam’s hair. “I know, love. I know.”
It was quiet for a moment before the blue-eyed boy spoke again. “It hurts.” he whispered against Ville’s pale skin.
“What hurts, love?”
“Something inside.” The voice was choked. “Something inside hurts.”
Then it was silent again. Two strong arms held tight to the trembling body as if terrified it might dissipate without human contact.
“I want show you something.” Ville whispered. Bam pulled away, thick lashes shadowing his heartbreaking eyes. Slowly, as if in a movie, Ville stood, pulling his friend to his feet. Clasping Bam’s hands tightly in his own, he walked toward the balcony, turning away from Bam just long enough to open the door.
The cool air of September danced across their skin as the pair made their way to the edge of the balcony, looking out over the dirty city called Los Angeles.
“I was here once.” Ville said after a pause. “Right where you’re standing, only there wasn’t anyone where I am.” Two blue eyes were fixed on him as he spoke. He pointed. “See the cars down there? That street would have been blocked off with yellow tape.”
“Why didn’t you?” Bam asked, clutching tighter to his friend’s hands, crystal orbs searching Ville’s green eyes for answers.
“Stupid really.” Ville said with a sad little laugh stained with memory. “We had one more concert and I didn’t want to fuck it up, the tour. Four more days, I figured, just enough to make something all right. And three days later . . .” Ville pressed his lips to the other man’s forehead. “Three days later, I met you.”
“And I kept you from jumping off a balcony?” Bam scoffed.
Ville smiled. “No, you just made me realize that I could have been born mentally handicapped like you and-“
Bam punched him playfully, his own smile returning. His own real smile. Or a shadow of it. But something had to cast that shadow. Ville watched that face turn to look off the balcony again, looking up as if those eyes could pierce through the smog hiding the starlit sky. He watched the eyes glance downward at the cars, counting headlights and blinkers, bumper stickers and convertibles.
“I never wanted to die.” Bam said suddenly. “I never wanted that. I just wanted it to stop hurting. Even if it was for a second.”
“When did it start?” Ville asked gently. His hands released his friend’s as they both leaned against the railing of the balcony. He stared at the blue eyed boy staring out at nothing at all.
“Couple of years ago.” Bam answered. “But . . . I don’t remember why. There was something, I just don’t remember what.”
“There isn’t always-“
“But there was for me.” Bam said, cutting off the unfinished sentence. “Something . . .” He shook his head and glanced at Ville’s concerned face before turning and reentering the hotel room. He sat down, leaning against the headboard of his bed. He ran a hand tiredly through his brown hair and gave Ville a weary smile as he sat down. “How’d you know where to find me?” he asked.
“I got a phone call. Someone begging me to make sure you weren’t shooting up on Sunset Strip.” Ville said.
“Mom?” Bam asked.
“Yeah.” Ville tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “She’s worried about you. They all are. Me, too.” Bam looked at his hands guiltily. “It’s not bad to have people who worry about you, love. It means they care.”
“I . . .” Bam yawned. “I know.” His eyes fluttered shut drowsily. They opened again to find Ville smiling at him. “I’m tired.” he said defensively.
“Then get some sleep.” Ville said.
“What the fuck’d you think I was trying to do?” Bam said irritably.
“You big baby.” Ville laughed and moved to stand up, but Bam grabbed his wrist.
“Stay with me?” he asked pleadingly.
Ville nodded, running his hand gently across the other’s forehead and down the side of his face. “Let me have a cigarette and I’ll be right in.”
He stepped onto the balcony and fumbled with first the cigarette, then the lighter. After a few drags and a few times dropping his lighter, he angrily stomped on it, glancing inside to see a sleeping Bam and a stuffed teddy bear exposed from under the comforter.
He chuckled and turned to look at the buildings surrounding him. He faltered at the murmured words escaping his friend’s mouth. He couldn’t make them out, but the sound of his voice . . .
He put the cigarette out and stepped back into the room, shutting the glass door. He took a few steps toward the burgundy chair and sat down, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand.
Ville stayed that way for some time, just staring at the sleeping boy in the other bed. Then, although he knew Bam wanted him to sleep in his bed, he pulled back the comforter on the vacant one and fell asleep almost instantly.
He didn’t trust himself at that point in time.
Not for a moment.
---TBC---
Reviews?