Skins Fic: self-sullen overtures for cities
self-sullen overtures for cities
10 random facts about Jal Fazer
for goldenmelisande. skins. jal. season one spoilers 599 words. pg.
her crush on Tony lasted all about fifteen seconds. and that was too long.
-
emeralds, you should know,
are renting in her meadow
with a stroke
(tori amos) another girl’s paradise
one
Jal is tired.
two
She’s forgetting mum - she doesn’t know how it happens, but everything is slipping through her fingers, her gaze buried in sheets of music. She says nothing because it’s not like Da, although he loves her, will listen to a bunch of restless phrases when even she doesn’t understand.
She says love you to her mirror each morning; you look just like her, they add.
three
Michelle breaks her heart; she doesn’t want to be like that, reckons that in a couple years she and Michelle will be lost to each other, an indefinite wisdom that comes when the years start to fade too quickly. But for now, she’s got two, tight, worried hands, a grip on her best friend’s wrist with a whisper - Now, now, you and better than this.
four
Her crush on Tony lasted all about fifteen seconds. And that was too long.
five
She should love school - there’s something about the faces, saving them, and bearing it with her teeth. She wants to smack half of that lot, their eyes and mouths and we appreciate your typemy type? stays snug on the tip of her tongue, always with dark eyes, and she’s staying, thinking, a year and then another month.
She’s almost out.
six
She goes for days, sometimes, when she doesn’t touch the clarinet. It’s not like she can’t play or she doesn’t want to - or maybe it is, it confuses her and it’s how she just deals with things. But when it snaps, in that alley, she can barely breathe.
The new one isn’t the same and she keeps trying to tell herself that habits will come about soon and she’ll get used to it. She’ll get used to it.
She’s still waiting.
seven
Chris is -
Chris is Chris. She doesn’t know where to place it, if there’s a place for this yet; there’s a certain level of fascination that rises, that sense of chaotic unpredictability too frightening and alluring to her. He’s sad. She’s sad. And there’s a clandestine connection that mocks her half the time.
“You’ll be okay,” Jal is hesitant, hand against his shoulder, this is before news, news of Tony and changes, “you’ll see - there are other girls.”
It’s half-hearted. With a smile.
eight
Cassie, Cassie, she doesn’t get.
Something’s formed, that day, where she watches them wait for her to wake up - Jal’s never liked hospitals, too many memories, and she shifts, fidgets, and sways until the other girl wakes up.
Now, they have their moments -
Cassie sits with her, quiet, and watches as Jal scores notes and numbers, math and mechanics for music, over her wrist; some days, she tells the other girl, she’s bloody high.
Cassie listens more; that’s saying a lot.
nine
There’s a song about dying kids, circa this era, leftovers of their parents’ generational laughter and mistakes - Jal’s convinced about relevance and it scares her more than she’d like it to; she is not her father’s daughter, her dead mother, or even herself.
It’s going to be a while, she guess, until she’s got this.
ten
She does win Young Musician of the Year, the proceeding year, stares at the prize with an eye roll and friends in the audience.
“Fuck,” she starts, “off.”
There are gasps and whispers, a bunch of laughter and cheers, and somebody saying to the beat of her own drum. She smirks at the camera instead, a mock-bow, and turning in tulle (fuck, Michelle) to exit.
- she’s still smiling on her way out.
+
10 random facts about Jal Fazer
for goldenmelisande. skins. jal. season one spoilers 599 words. pg.
her crush on Tony lasted all about fifteen seconds. and that was too long.
-
emeralds, you should know,
are renting in her meadow
with a stroke
(tori amos) another girl’s paradise
one
Jal is tired.
two
She’s forgetting mum - she doesn’t know how it happens, but everything is slipping through her fingers, her gaze buried in sheets of music. She says nothing because it’s not like Da, although he loves her, will listen to a bunch of restless phrases when even she doesn’t understand.
She says love you to her mirror each morning; you look just like her, they add.
three
Michelle breaks her heart; she doesn’t want to be like that, reckons that in a couple years she and Michelle will be lost to each other, an indefinite wisdom that comes when the years start to fade too quickly. But for now, she’s got two, tight, worried hands, a grip on her best friend’s wrist with a whisper - Now, now, you and better than this.
four
Her crush on Tony lasted all about fifteen seconds. And that was too long.
five
She should love school - there’s something about the faces, saving them, and bearing it with her teeth. She wants to smack half of that lot, their eyes and mouths and we appreciate your typemy type? stays snug on the tip of her tongue, always with dark eyes, and she’s staying, thinking, a year and then another month.
She’s almost out.
six
She goes for days, sometimes, when she doesn’t touch the clarinet. It’s not like she can’t play or she doesn’t want to - or maybe it is, it confuses her and it’s how she just deals with things. But when it snaps, in that alley, she can barely breathe.
The new one isn’t the same and she keeps trying to tell herself that habits will come about soon and she’ll get used to it. She’ll get used to it.
She’s still waiting.
seven
Chris is -
Chris is Chris. She doesn’t know where to place it, if there’s a place for this yet; there’s a certain level of fascination that rises, that sense of chaotic unpredictability too frightening and alluring to her. He’s sad. She’s sad. And there’s a clandestine connection that mocks her half the time.
“You’ll be okay,” Jal is hesitant, hand against his shoulder, this is before news, news of Tony and changes, “you’ll see - there are other girls.”
It’s half-hearted. With a smile.
eight
Cassie, Cassie, she doesn’t get.
Something’s formed, that day, where she watches them wait for her to wake up - Jal’s never liked hospitals, too many memories, and she shifts, fidgets, and sways until the other girl wakes up.
Now, they have their moments -
Cassie sits with her, quiet, and watches as Jal scores notes and numbers, math and mechanics for music, over her wrist; some days, she tells the other girl, she’s bloody high.
Cassie listens more; that’s saying a lot.
nine
There’s a song about dying kids, circa this era, leftovers of their parents’ generational laughter and mistakes - Jal’s convinced about relevance and it scares her more than she’d like it to; she is not her father’s daughter, her dead mother, or even herself.
It’s going to be a while, she guess, until she’s got this.
ten
She does win Young Musician of the Year, the proceeding year, stares at the prize with an eye roll and friends in the audience.
“Fuck,” she starts, “off.”
There are gasps and whispers, a bunch of laughter and cheers, and somebody saying to the beat of her own drum. She smirks at the camera instead, a mock-bow, and turning in tulle (fuck, Michelle) to exit.
- she’s still smiling on her way out.
+