|  Author | Topic: Pisces ~dedicated to Lisa~ (Read 963 times) |
charliemcfearchar
Kipling
member is offline
Where the setting sun surrenders to the moon
Joined: Mar 2008
Gender: Female 
Posts: 25
Location: Dusk
|  | Re: Pisces ~dedicated to Lisa~
« Reply #10 on Jul 31, 2008, 3:20pm » | |
Up ‘till now, this could have been a story about two people falling in love. After some random teasing and regular flirting, an exciting first kiss and a tremendous first love-making in the very dark of night, Chris and I would have been a couple. I’d help him with every film he’d make in the future and he would be one of the most successful directors of his time. We’d get married, have kids (a boy with dark curls and sparkling green eyes and a girl with blonde locks and cute freckles on her nose) and settle down somewhere we’d live happily until we’d be old and grey and deaf and wrinkled.
But if this would have been anything like a casual romantic story, it wouldn’t have been worth telling, because you’d know its course and you’d know its ending before you’d have finished reading. Nevertheless I wish it had been that way. I wish I would never have felt the need to write at all.
But unfortunately this story is worth telling. Because that Halloween’s night, everything changed.
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...this is me pretending this is all I need...
~with the wish for many dreams~ |
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charliemcfearchar
Kipling
member is offline
Where the setting sun surrenders to the moon
Joined: Mar 2008
Gender: Female
Posts: 25
Location: Dusk
| | Re: Pisces ~dedicated to Lisa~
« Reply #11 on Nov 22, 2008, 2:33pm » | |
Chapter XI
Pat had taken care of everything. Metal music burst from the huge speakers dressed as ghosts, black curtains divided the room in secret corners that were dark as the stormy night outside, while the dance floor was lit by numerous elegant candles planted in baskets filled with sand. Crowded and filled with blue clouds of smoke and animated chatter, the room still felt like a spooky place.
,,So, what do you guys think, huh?" Pat greeted us.
,,It's amazing," I smiled. ,, And you look so convincingly dead in those clothes and make-up,"
,,What make-up?" he grinned and took my hand. ,, It's all real. Wanna feel it?"
,,Eew, Pat!" I squealed as I pulled back my hand from his grip.
,,You look... terribly depressed," he said, after having inspected my outfit. ,,Did someone die?"
,,Yeah! Great party, Pat! Where's the beer?" a guy with a Scream mask on the top of his head yelled as he stumbled by.
,,No more drinks for you, Eddy, you're going home!" Pat yelled back. ,,Hey Chris, is your bro gonna drop by tonight?"
Chris, who had been slightly distracted by a girl in a bunny-suit, tried to regain his focus.
,,Don't know,"
,,Did you ask him?"
,,Can't remember,"
,,How much have you been drinking, man?" Pat roared with laughter. ,,What is this stuff?"
He grabbed Chris' drink from his hand, causing Chris to mutter a little protest and try to steal it back with a clumsily co-ordinated grasp.
,,It's pure whiskey, you dumb ass! Why are you drinking this?"
,,Pete challenged me,"
,, Geez, man, why did you accept? He's a nutcase. You're a nutcase! You know you can't handle this shit," and he emptied the glass in one gulp. Chris tried once again to get his glass back, but I reached for his wrist and gently lowered it, till it was by his side again. Avoiding his gaze, I let my hand slip in his, while continuing the conversation with Pat.
,, We asked Josh to come, but he said he wasn't sure,"
,,He'd better turn up, because I already told a few people we'd have a celebrity visiting tonight," Pat said, pointing over his shoulder at a couple of teenage girls, nervously pulling down their shirts to make their bossoms look more impressive.
,,Guys! Has Josh arrived yet?" Lisa came tumbling into the chat.
,,No, he hasn't. We were just discussing it," I said.
,,For the love of God, what is taking him so long? He promised me to be here by midnight," Lisa said, sounding worried.
,,It's half past one," Pat said, after a quick look at his watch.
,,Josh isn't late. Josh is never late. Only when he misses his plane. Or his train. Or his bus. Or when he has a flat tire. Or an accident," Chris summed up.
At the moment I intended to slap Chris on the arm just to make him stop talking like an idiot, someone in a hurry came storming through the door of the dancing room.
,,Chris Groban?! Where's Chris Groban? We need you outside, right now!"
,,What the hell is going on?" Chris muttered, steadily moving towards the exit.
,,I don't know," I said, with a slight feeling of anguish growing in my stomach. ,,But it sure sounds urgent enough,"
,,Wait up, guys, I'm coming too," Lisa said, and her voice sounded as strained as my insides felt. When we stepped into the cold November night, the very first of that year, we were surprised by the sight of blue and red beacons. A Los Angeles Police car was parked in front of the club, and two police officers stepped forth as we got used to the bright and unnatural light that shone right into our faces. I looked at Chris and the red glance in his eyes seemed to stress the tension of the situation.
,,Are you Chris Groban?" one of the officers asked in such a serious voice that I grabbed Lisa's hand in fear for what the man might say as soon as Chris would confirm that.
,,Yes, I am," he said, sounding a lot more sober than a few minutes ago.
,,We are very sorry to tell you that your brother has been involved in a car crash earlier this evening. He has been transported to the hospital immediately,"
,,Is he okay?"
,,I do not know, sir, I'm very sorry,"
,,Which hospital is he in?"
,,PAMC, sir,"
Without saying another word, Chris marched towards his car.
,,Don't! Chris, you're drunk, let me drive!"
,,Your costume would be troubling you,"
,,We'd gladly assist you, Mr and Mrs Groban,"
,,O, thank you. Come on, Lisa,"
I don't necessarily hate hospitals, but I'd rather not go there. They have a kind of empty, lonely appearance: the long corridors, the white walls, the TL lights, the hurried staff and the fake smiles. I was trembling as I heard to the doctor's voice, though I only noticed the coolness with which he spoke, and not the things he actually said.
,,Mr. Groban has been very lucky. He is not in mortal danger. The cab he took was driven by a cardiac patient. The driver had a heart attack and lost consciousness. The vehicle was hit by a truck. The driver did not survive, but the ambulance was just in time to save your brother,"
,,What room?"
As the doctor called the number, Chris ran to the stairs. I guess he had too much adrenalin pumping through his veines to wait for the elevator. He ran up six stairs in such a hurry that Lisa and I soon lost sight of him. Holding hands, we climbed higher, our feet glued to the stairs. I was afraid of what I'd find in that room. What would he look like? Would he be awake?
We found Chris at Josh' bedside. The first thing we saw when entering the room was Chris' bent back. There were two chairs, but he didn't seem to notice. He just stood there, looking down to his brother, whose face we still couldn't see.
,,Is he... is it bad?" Lisa asked with an undeniable shiver in her voice.
,,He's asleep,"
Silently and afraid of what we might see, Lisa and I came closer to the bed. The first thing I noticed was the absence of his curls. They were probably covered under the bandage strapped around his head. His eyes were closed, and he seemed almost peaceful if it wasn't for his bruised right cheek, his scratched and cut arms and the neck brace.
,,He will be just fine, you know," a content voice suddenly shrieked through the room. We turned around to find ourselves facing an agonizingly happy nurse with pink eyeshadow and big, shiny eyes that were constantly winking.
,,He'll wake up in a few days, he'll be able to walk in a few weeks and then after a month or so he'll regain his speech,"
I felt like punching her. Or scratching her eyes out. A very uncomfortable silence followed, during which the nurse walked over to the bedside, whistling cheerfully, to straighten the blanket.
,,Will he sing again?"
,, I'm sorry, what?"
,,Will he... will he be able to sing again?"
,,O, he could sing, huh? Was he any good? Well, it doesn't really matter anymore now,"
She left us in horrid amazement, her high heels ticking a merry rythm on the cold hospital floor.
|
...this is me pretending this is all I need...
~with the wish for many dreams~ |
| |
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