Fanfic Numero Uno
Oh hey. This is the very first fanfic i have ever written so please, go easy on me. I'm not sure exactly what is going to happen, but no one ever really does, do they?
Hehe, Peace. Hope you enjoy it :]
Title: Scene Change
Rating: Psh, it's just the prologue people
Summary: I suck at summaries, just read the damn thing
Disclaimer: I unfortunately don't own nor have met Benji or Joel madden, or any other celebrity that may be mentioned in this
Notes: This is for all the fanfic writers (shoutouts to bigdreamsinc and veggielover , whos stories i love) who keep the madden boy fantasy alive. :) I just stumbled upon this site / group and im so glad that people continue to share such sick stories!
I sit on the squished airplane, staring out the window. I can’t do this. I can’t move to another destination. I can't move in with him.
It’s not that I’m not excited to get out of Los Angeles or anything. I need to leave my old life behind. But with Dad; well it’ll be scary. It'll be different. Not the way I want it to be.
Maybe he changed..maybe, maybe he misses me. He did after all agree to take me in.
Oh who are you kidding Benji?. my brain so callously interrupts my positivity. This is the same man who left you with nothing but tears and bruises. He's only taking you in because he doesn;t want Child Services to investigate.
I sigh loudly. When did I become this way? What's happened to me?
Must be my current situation. No money; no where to go. I’m trapped. I turn up my CD player in the hopes that John Lennon will help me get by.
Attention Passengers, this is the captain speaking. The skies right now are very stormy, so we’ve been put slightly behind landing schedule. We’ll be arriving in Toronto in about 57 minutes; We hope you’re enjoying your flight with Air Canada.
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“Welcome To Canada,” the lady smiles at me.
I nod, and attempt a smile. A 9 hour flight isn’t exactly something that keeps you energized.
I walk through the Toronto Airport to get to my luggage, appearing calm and collected, while my insides are actually screaming. Nerves. Goddamn anxiety is kicking in. I haven’t seen him for 6 years. I’m hoping my earlier pessimism is totally wrong.
I wait at the luggage carrier - why is it taking so long? - and tap my feet anxiously on the ground. I finally see my small suitcase & my guitar coming around, and I hurriedly grab them. I look up at the clock on the wall: 12:24 am. I was told that I was being picked up at 12:00, so I better go find him.
I search the whole freaking airport, I swear. No trace. I frantically run outside,and feel raindrops fall on my hair. it's raining? How cliche is that? I am not gonna be able to see in the darkness. I sift past the roads and enter the parking lot, which is enormous. I will never be able to find him if he’s in here.
Dammit, I hoped it wouldn’t come to this. I reach for the phone in my backpack, and as my fingertips graze the edge, I cringe.
Okay, breathe. As I exhale I open the cell. I type in the number I was give; the ringing begins. Ring Ring Ring Ring. Nothing. When the answering machine starts, it sends shivers down my spine. He still sounds the same chilling way he used to.
‘Daniel Combs. Leave a message & your name at the signal: Beep.’ This is the point when I begin to hyperventilate.
What can I say? What should I say? Does he even know my cell number? Did I come on the wrong day? What if I woke him up or something and I pissed him off and now he refuses to come in spite of that? What if - Okay, Benji you seriously have to stop psyching yourself out. He probably isn’t that bad. Probably...
“Uhh-um. Hey, uh Dad, it’s Benjamin? I thought you were supposed to pick me up at the airport, but maybe you’re here and forgot to take your cell in? Uhhh, call me when you get this, k? Bye.’ I click it off, unsure of what my next move will be.
I trudge back to the airport entrance with my crap & sit against the wall on the grass by some trees. The security guard standing there looks at me funny. He’s closing up the airport. Do they actually close it that early here? I intently gaze at him, worried about my very near future, then catch him watching me again.
‘Tomorrow, well,’ he chuckles, ‘I guess today, is a civic holiday son, gotta close it up' I nod feeling deflated. I mumble that ‘I’m just waiting for somebody’. He turns his attention back to the door, and then when he’s finished walks away and jumps into his silver Jeep.
I take out my CD player & turn the cell phone to vibrate. I begin listening to The Clash & their Live At Shea Stadium album. I love live music.
A couple songs in I feel myself starting drift off....
Gah! Shit, where am i? Why am I laying against a tree? What am I -oh yeah. The Clash has long been over.
I go to check my phone’s watch - 3:07. 3:07!? I check my missed calls: 0
Groaning, I grab a sweater from my suitcase, then move my backpack under my head so I can rest it on it. If I have to stay out here, I might as well get decent.
I feel tears forming in my eyes as I close them mixing with the cold april rain. I guess things haven’t changed at all.