The Foreboding Sense of Impending Happiness (Chapter 7)
Disclaimer: I do not own or know anyone from HIM personally. The only person I own in this story, is Grace.
Rating: As of now is PG-13
Summary: Fan meets Valo, Valo likes. :P
Author: MissSixty-Nine (moi!)
Title: The Foreboding Sense of Impending Happiness
Ville's Love Interest: Grace Augustine
Ville was running out of options. He could end things with his current squeeze and run to Grace or he could ache for her. The kind of ache that dropped him to his knees without a moment’s notice and ripped his heart out of his chest while it was still beating. He was restless and unable to focus. His drinking habits grew out of control and his family grew concerned. He didn’t care what they thought. He was dying inside. Ville was currently in the middle of his messy bed in just a pair of boxers, skinny legs sprawled apart like he was a starfish. His eyes were blank and expressionless on the ceiling above him. He was still aching for her. That pretty little American girl with the big grey eyes and pretty brown hair. He didn’t care that she was only twenty. All he wanted was to be with her. On their next tour he vowed to see her again, to finally touch her the way he wanted to. He was scared to death.
Sleep finally took Ville into its arms, lulling him into a net of safety. He dreamt of Grace and the last time he’d seen her in New York. She’d been so frazzled and frustrated. When she’d kissed him she’d tasted like lemonade with a twist of whiskey.
Ville jolted awake, gasping at the intensity of the taste of her. He couldn’t even avoid this aching in his sleep. He rubbed a hand over his face and looked at the clock on his nightstand. He was mere hours away from flying back to the States for the start of touring. The first stop was Grace’s and he could not wait to hunt her down and ravage her.
~~~~
My drinking got worse. I drowned myself in whiskey and tequila and triple sec. With Jim, José and Jack we had a nice little party going but I always came out the loser. It was like I’d been beaten over the head with each bottle of liquor, but I kept going back to them.
I listened to the album Ville had sent me over and over again. I learned the melodies and memorized the words. I wrote his poetry on my walls and pieces of paper. Napkins that were scattered around the floor had hundreds of scribbles claiming to be words drawn on them. I was fighting for freedom from my own insanity and the only thing that helped me cope with my so-called mediocrity was Ville’s lyrics and my bottles of hard alcohol.
One day I stumbled out to the mailbox, wincing at the brightness of the rainy sky overhead. I reached into the small aluminum square and fished out the pieces of junk someone deemed good enough to send my way. I threw three of the pieces away without even looking at them. But something on the fourth caught my eye. It was a heartagram.
I wanted to laugh at the cruel joke of sending me something adorned with the reminder of my downfall. But I felt tears bubbling up from the bottom of my soul and fought with everything I had to hold them back. I struggled to stay standing as I ventured back into the apartment, ignoring the stares I was getting from my neighbors.
Weren’t they so high and mighty with their lack of flaws?
I shut the door behind myself and slid down onto the floor, the bottle of brandy sitting next to me as I laid it on the ground. I opened the envelope and dumped the contents into my lap. A single ticket and a single piece of lined yellow paper dropped onto my pale thighs. I picked up the lined paper and unfolded it slowly, afraid to see the words scrawled in that messy, slanted handwriting I’d been dying to see for weeks. I closed my eyes briefly, saying a quick prayer.
I looked down at the words on the paper and read slowly, mind chewing each word like a tough piece of meat.
“I told you I’d send you tickets. I want to see you, Grace. Please don’t make me ache for you anymore. xx Ville.”
~~~~
I slowly made my way across the street to the venue, heart slamming in my ribs. I’d finished the remnants of a fifth of Jim Beam before gathering up the courage to step out of my apartment. I wore a pair of ill-fitting jeans along with a faded Doors tee and a red scarf to keep my neck warm. When I showed the gate-guard my pass he smiled, sliding open the gate.
“In you go, deary.” I was wary of his smile and his amiable nature. I hadn’t met many people who spoke in the way of the witch from Hansel and Gretel. I thanked him anyway and trudged on, hoping the dazing effect of Jim Beam would keep me safe until I was away from Ville. I couldn’t afford to lose control of myself near him. That was a disaster waiting to happen.
I found the backstage area of the venue and sat on one of the many chairs scattered about. I jumped up when someone screamed my name. I looked around frantically, heart jumping in my chest. I still couldn’t see straight but I turned toward the voice, nearly crying out in relief as I realized it was Mige.
“I haven’t seen you since New York! How are you my tiny Finn?” He asked, rushing me. I hugged him tightly, tears welling in my bloodshot eyes.
“I’m all right, just trying to get by.” I said nonchalantly, kissing his cheek as I pulled away from the hug. “How are you?”
We talked for quite a few minutes before we were joined by a pair of roadies who pulled Mige away from me. He told me he would find me later and we would catch up some more. I was again left alone in an unfamiliar place with frayed nerves.
It was a good hour before Ville found me. I was trying to find someone to get me a drink. I had been jonesing for what seemed like a lifetime and was growing more and more frantic by the minute.
“Grace?” I heard from behind me, causing me to freeze in my tracks. “Look at me,” Ville whispered, standing behind me now. His hands rested on my shoulders and his breath tickled my nerves. I turned slowly, eyes wide. “Thank God it’s you.”
His lips collided with mine a second later and I felt my knees melt beneath me. I crumbled at the feeling of his kiss and he held me up with his strong arms. “Ville...” I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him, tears slipping unheeded down my pale cheeks. “I’m sorry about last time. I’m so sorry.” I couldn’t handle the emotions ravaging me, couldn’t handle the feeling of Ville clutching me to him like I was going to vanish in a puff of smoke.
And just as with Mige, a roadie called to Ville urgently and Ville cursed under his breath. He rested his forehead against mine for a brief moment before he kissed me sweetly on the lips and pulled away. “I’ll be back for you soon.” He whispered, brushing my hair back from my face. “I promise.”
( Chapter 6 )
( Chapter 5 )
( Chapter 4 )
( Chapter 3 )
( Chapter 2 )
( Chapter 1 )
Rating: As of now is PG-13
Summary: Fan meets Valo, Valo likes. :P
Author: MissSixty-Nine (moi!)
Title: The Foreboding Sense of Impending Happiness
Ville's Love Interest: Grace Augustine
Ville was running out of options. He could end things with his current squeeze and run to Grace or he could ache for her. The kind of ache that dropped him to his knees without a moment’s notice and ripped his heart out of his chest while it was still beating. He was restless and unable to focus. His drinking habits grew out of control and his family grew concerned. He didn’t care what they thought. He was dying inside. Ville was currently in the middle of his messy bed in just a pair of boxers, skinny legs sprawled apart like he was a starfish. His eyes were blank and expressionless on the ceiling above him. He was still aching for her. That pretty little American girl with the big grey eyes and pretty brown hair. He didn’t care that she was only twenty. All he wanted was to be with her. On their next tour he vowed to see her again, to finally touch her the way he wanted to. He was scared to death.
Sleep finally took Ville into its arms, lulling him into a net of safety. He dreamt of Grace and the last time he’d seen her in New York. She’d been so frazzled and frustrated. When she’d kissed him she’d tasted like lemonade with a twist of whiskey.
Ville jolted awake, gasping at the intensity of the taste of her. He couldn’t even avoid this aching in his sleep. He rubbed a hand over his face and looked at the clock on his nightstand. He was mere hours away from flying back to the States for the start of touring. The first stop was Grace’s and he could not wait to hunt her down and ravage her.
~~~~
My drinking got worse. I drowned myself in whiskey and tequila and triple sec. With Jim, José and Jack we had a nice little party going but I always came out the loser. It was like I’d been beaten over the head with each bottle of liquor, but I kept going back to them.
I listened to the album Ville had sent me over and over again. I learned the melodies and memorized the words. I wrote his poetry on my walls and pieces of paper. Napkins that were scattered around the floor had hundreds of scribbles claiming to be words drawn on them. I was fighting for freedom from my own insanity and the only thing that helped me cope with my so-called mediocrity was Ville’s lyrics and my bottles of hard alcohol.
One day I stumbled out to the mailbox, wincing at the brightness of the rainy sky overhead. I reached into the small aluminum square and fished out the pieces of junk someone deemed good enough to send my way. I threw three of the pieces away without even looking at them. But something on the fourth caught my eye. It was a heartagram.
I wanted to laugh at the cruel joke of sending me something adorned with the reminder of my downfall. But I felt tears bubbling up from the bottom of my soul and fought with everything I had to hold them back. I struggled to stay standing as I ventured back into the apartment, ignoring the stares I was getting from my neighbors.
Weren’t they so high and mighty with their lack of flaws?
I shut the door behind myself and slid down onto the floor, the bottle of brandy sitting next to me as I laid it on the ground. I opened the envelope and dumped the contents into my lap. A single ticket and a single piece of lined yellow paper dropped onto my pale thighs. I picked up the lined paper and unfolded it slowly, afraid to see the words scrawled in that messy, slanted handwriting I’d been dying to see for weeks. I closed my eyes briefly, saying a quick prayer.
I looked down at the words on the paper and read slowly, mind chewing each word like a tough piece of meat.
“I told you I’d send you tickets. I want to see you, Grace. Please don’t make me ache for you anymore. xx Ville.”
~~~~
I slowly made my way across the street to the venue, heart slamming in my ribs. I’d finished the remnants of a fifth of Jim Beam before gathering up the courage to step out of my apartment. I wore a pair of ill-fitting jeans along with a faded Doors tee and a red scarf to keep my neck warm. When I showed the gate-guard my pass he smiled, sliding open the gate.
“In you go, deary.” I was wary of his smile and his amiable nature. I hadn’t met many people who spoke in the way of the witch from Hansel and Gretel. I thanked him anyway and trudged on, hoping the dazing effect of Jim Beam would keep me safe until I was away from Ville. I couldn’t afford to lose control of myself near him. That was a disaster waiting to happen.
I found the backstage area of the venue and sat on one of the many chairs scattered about. I jumped up when someone screamed my name. I looked around frantically, heart jumping in my chest. I still couldn’t see straight but I turned toward the voice, nearly crying out in relief as I realized it was Mige.
“I haven’t seen you since New York! How are you my tiny Finn?” He asked, rushing me. I hugged him tightly, tears welling in my bloodshot eyes.
“I’m all right, just trying to get by.” I said nonchalantly, kissing his cheek as I pulled away from the hug. “How are you?”
We talked for quite a few minutes before we were joined by a pair of roadies who pulled Mige away from me. He told me he would find me later and we would catch up some more. I was again left alone in an unfamiliar place with frayed nerves.
It was a good hour before Ville found me. I was trying to find someone to get me a drink. I had been jonesing for what seemed like a lifetime and was growing more and more frantic by the minute.
“Grace?” I heard from behind me, causing me to freeze in my tracks. “Look at me,” Ville whispered, standing behind me now. His hands rested on my shoulders and his breath tickled my nerves. I turned slowly, eyes wide. “Thank God it’s you.”
His lips collided with mine a second later and I felt my knees melt beneath me. I crumbled at the feeling of his kiss and he held me up with his strong arms. “Ville...” I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him, tears slipping unheeded down my pale cheeks. “I’m sorry about last time. I’m so sorry.” I couldn’t handle the emotions ravaging me, couldn’t handle the feeling of Ville clutching me to him like I was going to vanish in a puff of smoke.
And just as with Mige, a roadie called to Ville urgently and Ville cursed under his breath. He rested his forehead against mine for a brief moment before he kissed me sweetly on the lips and pulled away. “I’ll be back for you soon.” He whispered, brushing my hair back from my face. “I promise.”
( Chapter 6 )
( Chapter 5 )
( Chapter 4 )
( Chapter 3 )
( Chapter 2 )
( Chapter 1 )