|
|
Post by rachel berry on Aug 12, 2010 13:10:32 GMT -5
Youtube sensations drove me up the wall sometimes. People who had mediocre voices but looked good got thousands of comments full of praise, and my Myspace clips were bombarded with insults just because everyone at school hated me. But that didn't stop me from posting more, which was what I was doing now. I'd finished singing My Man from Funny Girl and had connected my camera to my laptop, and now I was patiently waiting for it to upload. As I was waiting, someone else commented on one of my videos, my cover of Frozen by Madonna, and I clicked to read it, frowning at it. "someone should cut your throat berry. or give you a nose job." I looked down at where my hands were resting on the laptop and then stood up, leaving my camera to upload to Myspace and going downstairs for a while to clear my head. My dads were out again so I made myself some tomato soup and sat at the table as I ate it. I hated the constant criticism I received from my peers, it stung and made me feel like I was worth so much less than I really was. My therapist had told me it was just jealousy because I was talented and they weren't, because I was the mezzo-soprano and they were shower squawkers. But she didn't go to school with me. She didn't experience what I experienced. I knew it was because they hated me and thought I was an embarrassment to the people of America.
Once I'd finished my soup I got up and rinsed the bowl, putting it in the dishwasher and walking back up the stairs with a glass of water. I put it down next to my laptop and smiled when I saw My Man had uploaded and I had already got a comment. Crossing my fingers, I clicked on it and then rolled my eyes once I'd read it. "another flawless performance miss rachel barbara berry. it's now my ring tone. i like the way your eyes glisten as you sing, this could be the fuel of many dirty dreams." I pulled a face when I saw the username, jewfro, but I had already guessed that before I'd finished reading. It summed up my life, really, my only admirer being some horny teenage stalker who had to take cold showers over me every morning. I shut my laptop and instead put my iPod into the dock, putting it on shuffle and then singing along to the first song, Britney Spears with Baby One More Time. I had it on my iPod because it reminded me of when I had been younger and it had been on the radio, plus there were rumours it was going to be an up and coming glee assignment. Although I was pretty sure Mr Schuester despised her because of her rebellious public image. Ah well, it was still a good song at the end of the day. I brushed my hair, seeing as Lorelai was coming over soon and I wanted to look nice, and ended up singing into my hairbrush like it was a microphone, something I did a lot. I thought it was quite an endearing quality, and it had actually got Noah to make out with me. Not that that was my original plan when he came round. He obviously just couldn't keep his hands off of me. The song changed to Frozen, and I changed it quickly. Life liked to bring back bad memories, didn't it? No Air was on next and I was about to sing along when I heard someone at the door. I dropped my brush and headed down the staircase, opening the door and smiling at Lorelai. "Hi, you okay? Erm, we'll go upstairs? Make yourself comfortable." I added with a smile, something my dads had taught me to say.
*********************** NOTES: welcome to hell, lore! | WORDS: 648 | TAGGED: lorelai LYRICS: NO FLOODS BY LADY GAGA | CREDITS: BOOGIE @ CAUTION 2.0 |
|
|
|
Post by lorelai anchors on Aug 12, 2010 14:25:57 GMT -5
 TAKE A BREATH TAKE IT DEEP CALM YOURSELF HE SAYS TO ME IF YOU
PLAY YOU PLAY FOR KEEPS TAKE THE GUN AND COUNT TO THREE • • •& i'm sweating now moving slow no time to think my turn to go
AND YOU CAN SEE MY HEART BEATING
YOU CAN SEE IT THROUGH MY CHESTAt some point in time, I’d agreed to go over to Rachel Berry’s house for something that was probably the equivalent of singing lessons. I mean, I didn’t have to pay for them or anything but I did bring some extra cash with me just in case. I’d probably feel bad for wasting her time and having her put effort into a lost cause so I would probably end up offering to take her out to get coffee or a bite to eat as a bit of a thank you. I’m sure she wouldn’t except me shoving money at her out right, though I was fully prepared to do that if I had to.
It was pretty intimidating (and almost demeaning), the thought of Rachel helping me improve my vocals. It was necessary, I was sure, to avoid being humiliated in front of the entire club. Rachel had enough faith in me to calm my nerves and apparently thought I was better than some of those who were already in New Directions, and I wouldn’t feel too demeaned because she just assumed she was better than everyone, so those comments would be expected. She never meant them to be mean, she was just speaking the blunt truth and I was already quite used to that. So I needed her help, something to help build up my confidence in my voice, enough to where I wouldn’t be too afraid to sing in front of the club. I figured only Rachel would be able to help with that, considering she was the best and only gave out compliments when she felt they were really deserved. As much as I hated harsh and hated truth, the 'harsh truth' was what I really needed right now.
My day had ticked off rather slowly. I woke up early and immediately ran to the bathroom with the need to vomit, but I'd taken it easy enough so I didn't have to call off plans with Rachel. I really didn't get out of the house often aside from school, so I was pretty eager to do that. During the time when I was just lounging around, I had somehow managed to get into a discussion about Guitar Hero with my younger brother, and now I was itching to play it; but that was another story, and there wasn't really anything I could do about that now.
I dressed in an old, worn out dark blue dress that had been sitting in the back of my closet for awhile, and pulled my hair back into a neat pony tail, only bothering to straighten out my bangs so that I could keep them in order. I threw my wallet and AZT into my bag, just in case, grabbing my keys as I walked out the door. I was right on time, arriving at Rachel's, sure that she was a stickler for punctuality (if her impatience at Mr. Schuester's tardiness at the auditions had been any indication). When she opened the door, I offered her an amiable smile, stepping inside and slipping off my shoes by the door. "Hey," I greeted gently, taking a moment for my gaze to sweep over the foyer. She really did have a nice house. "Upstairs? Alright, thanks." I followed her instructions and headed upstairs, sliding into what I assumed was her bedroom (the overwhelming decor tipped me off). I set my bag down by her desk and awkwardly clasped my hands in front of me, turning to face her. "So, how're you?"
words 603tagged rachel. notes ":c why is this hell? i like it here." also, lol, really shitty post, sorry.
template PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION |
|
|
|
Post by rachel berry on Aug 13, 2010 9:04:34 GMT -5
She was wearing a blue dress that really set off her eyes. I, ever striving for perfection, was a little jealous of how pretty she was, and I wondered why she had chosen to be such an outcast. Despite having a little issue with nerves, if she got over them with the help of a counsellor or even a good friend, she could be friends with some of the more popular people in school. She didn't have my intimidating personality which was something I'd never get rid of, I was sure of it, and I'm sure a lot of the guys would be interested in striking something up with her. I made a mental note to suggest it to her later and offer my guidance, and then I followed her up the stairs. She had located my room pretty easily as many people did, maybe it was the overpowering yet enchanting décor, and was standing there a little awkwardly. I frowned, to myself mainly, because if she was uncomfortable it would be so much harder for her to loosen up and sing. I pulled my t-shirt down a little (a Wicked one I had got when the show had come to Columbus) and shut my bedroom door behind me, turning back to face her when she spoke. "So, how're you?" [/color] My smile returned slightly and I went to sit on the bed, patting the quilt next to me, gesturing for her to sit down. I tucked my legs underneath me and kept my hands in my lap, watching her as I replied. "I'm good thanks, I guess. A little fed up of the people who comment on my videos but aside from that, I'm fine. You?" I asked, glad to have said that out loud and got it off of my chest. I felt safer saying it to her than anyone else because she was the kind of person who didn't instantly judge you or say one thing and mean the other. Basically, she was someone you could trust, and they were few and far between it seemed. Everyone put their reputation before me and my naturally trusting character was beginning to deteriorate. I focused back on the task at hand, trying to decide where to start with Lorelai's vocal training. I looked at the floor as I decided on a few warm-up exercises. We'd start with a few breathing exercises then move on to sirening. Warming up your voice could take a long time and I didn't want to put her off singing altogether. She had stopped going to singing lessons, or at least, I thought she had. I didn't want to be the kind of vocal coach that spent more time on the warm up than on the actual singing because that could be incredibly tedious and it was probably what had put her off the lessons. "We'll warm up soon, but first, is there any particular genre of music you're most comfortable with?" For me it was show tunes and tracks from impressive musical icons, but for all I knew she could prefer country music or, god forbid, heavy metal with full on screaming. That would be completely out of my comfort zone because I didn't know how to teach someone to scream in tune. It was like instructing a sumo wrestler to learn ballet dancing, near impossible. Mostly because I would probably spend the whole lesson worrying that the student would sit on me and crush my bones to beyond repair but still, it would be extremely difficult. I took a drink from the glass of water I had brought up as I waited for her to reply, then offered her a sip. "Would you prefer it if I sung first, or yourself?" I asked her. Everyone knew I loved singing and this was a perfect opportunity, but I didn't want to make her less confident in her abilities.[/blockquote][/size] ***********************[/center] NOTES: i'm sorry you had to read that, it was awful. | WORDS: 652 | TAGGED: lorelai LYRICS: NO FLOODS BY LADY GAGA | CREDITS: BOOGIE @ CAUTION 2.0 |
|
|
|
Post by lorelai anchors on Aug 13, 2010 10:27:15 GMT -5
TAKE A BREATH TAKE IT DEEP CALM YOURSELF HE SAYS TO ME IF YOU
PLAY YOU PLAY FOR KEEPS TAKE THE GUN AND COUNT TO THREE • • •& i'm sweating now moving slow no time to think my turn to go
AND YOU CAN SEE MY HEART BEATING
YOU CAN SEE IT THROUGH MY CHEST I took another look around the room, taking it all in before my gaze settled on Rachel, who was gesturing for me to sit next to her. I obliged, crossing the length of the room and settling next to her on the bed, my ankles crossing in front of me. I sort of liked how overpowering Rachel’s room was; it seemed to match her personality quite well, but I enjoyed her sort of intimidating nature because she only meant well. She had never been mean to me, or never tried to be, and I couldn’t remember seeing her being out right cruel to anyone else. Sure, she sometimes lost her patience and snapped, but she always had the best of intentions and that was just Rachel. It was never anything personal. Sometimes, I wondered why she wasn’t more popular. I understood that she had a couple of personality flaws, but everyone did. She was pretty, to begin with -- I was rather jealous of her hair, because it looked better than mine does when I don’t bother to do anything with it. I don’t know. I just knew she was pretty and she was nice and talented, so I didn’t see why no one else really liked her. Even when I was high all the time I got a bit irritated at the people I overheard making fun of her, even if I hadn’t spoken to her in years and I was busy killing brain cells. I knew Rachel didn’t deserve the kind of comments she received. It was for this reason that, when she mentioned that she was tired of what people were saying about her videos on Myspace, I offered her a small, sympathetic smile. “Don’t listen to them. Their comments are out of line, and not true. I was watching a few of your videos the other day, and they were great. I especially liked the ‘On my Own’ song you did awhile back.” With a gentle smile, I offered her a playful nude with my elbow before I reached up to ruffle up my bangs a little bit. To answer her return question, I shrugged and shifted slightly on the bed, lowering my gaze to the ground. “I’m okay, I guess. I don’t feel that well, so I’m trying to ignore that.” I wrinkled my nose and folded my hands in my lap.
Rachel started off talking about the singing lessons and I took a deep breath, feeling rather nervous to begin. I knew she wouldn’t really judge me, and I knew she had complete faith in my abilities but it was still rather daunting, knowing the difference in the quality of our voices. At least she seemed to be taking care to make sure I was most comfortable, because she asked what genre of music I felt comfortable with. I bit my lip, musing over different genres in my head. “Well… I guess I’m pretty flexible,” I answered finally, hesitancy in my voice, “But I think I have more of an indie voice, if that makes sense. I probably sound better singing Regina Spektor or The Smiths or Florence + The Machine than I do a show tune, but I don’t know. I haven’t explored a lot.” I took the glass she offered to me, mumbling a small, “thank you” as I took a sip before handing it back. Taking a deep breath, I fumbled with the hem of my dress, then addressed her next question. “I don’t mind who goes first. I mean, I have to go eventually no matter what, so… It doesn’t bother me.” Either I was going to be originally intimidated or I was going to feel like I made a fool out of myself. Either way, I’d regret singing in the end. Biting my lip, I noticed a bathroom and glanced over at her. “I’ll be right back. I need to go splash water on my face or something.” With a soft laugh, I stood and disappeared behind the bathroom door, trying to regroup.
|
|
|
|
Post by rachel berry on Aug 15, 2010 16:19:43 GMT -5
The fact that she had taken the time to watch my videos and not ridicule me was flattering. It seemed like the only person who did that was Jacob and reading his comments made me feel physically sick. I had uploaded On My Own quite a while back, but I liked to repost them from time to time so people didn't forget that I had always been impeccably talented. When I had been struck down by a malicious attack of tonsillitis I had regularly re-uploaded some of my older performances, including On My Own, so that had probably been when Lorelai had seen it. That song was a personal favourite of mine, it was from the seminal Broadway classic Les Mis and I hoped to fill the role of Eponine when I was making my name in the world of musical theatre. If I was already pulling off her most renowned solo at this age, I would be show stopping once I had matured further. Her compliments were very encouraging to my career, and I doubted she knew that. "Thank you. I adore that song. Lea Salonga's version is actually one of my ring tones." I told her, and was about to suggest I gave her a rendition right here in my bedroom when she spoke again. I frowned. Had I intimidated her so much she felt ill? I didn't mean to do that. If she wasn't healthy she wouldn't be able to concentrate on her voice, because she'd be wanting to throw up every time she opened her mouth. Maybe I shouldn't stand so close to her when she sung... Plus, if the infection was in her throat she might end up sounding awful (like that horrifying time I had tried to sing The Climb). It might be better if I just sung and gave her pointers, and she sat there with a cold flannel and a bucket. But I didn't want to suggest that to her in case she thought I considered her a bad singer.
When she said her voice was more suited to indie music I was suddenly very relieved. At least she hadn't said deathcore metal. But still, rock was more of Finn's forté. Not that that meant I didn't know anything about it, singing was singing at the end of the day, but I thought I'd let her know before we began. "Well, I'm more of a classically-trained singer, but I'll do my best to help. If you want, I'll sing first." I said cheerfully, my hands clasped firmly together in my lap with my signature smile plastered on my face. But then, before I knew it, she was gone. Into my bathroom to splash water on her face. What if she disappeared out of the window? I sighed and stood up, walking to my desk and picking up the small pile of sheet music I had next to my laptop. One slipped out and fell to the ground, so I bent over to pick it up. It was on top of Lorelai's bag and as I swooped down to retrieve the rogue leaf of paper I knocked the contents out of it. How clumsy could I get? I shouldn't have gotten out of bed this morning. After picking up the loose piece of paper I collected the belongings that had fallen out of her bag. Her wallet and.. a box of pills. At first I thought it would be a box of paracetamol but on closer inspection I was found to be wrong. Azidothymidine (AZT). Why did that name ring a bell? Straightening up and walking back to my bed, still staring at the box I was clutching, I tried to place it in my mind. Was it the antibiotics I had taken for my tonsillitis? No. Suddenly, I remembered. Rent. Roger took them to try and prevent his AIDS from worsening. But that must mean that... No, that was ridiculous. Maybe they were a prop. Lorelai had been cast in a school production of Rent. But why would she be carrying Roger's props when she was quite clearly a woman? And if there was a school production of Rent, why hadn't I heard about it? It couldn't be, surely. When I heard bathroom door re-open I whirled around to face it, trying to hide the box behind my back, but instead it went clattering to the floor, stopping at Lorelai's feet. "I... I didn't mean to... I..." shaking my head, I collected myself and carried on. "Lorelai... do you.. do you have AIDS?" I asked, feeling like I was treading on dangerous ground and about to fall off of a terrific precipice. *********************** NOTES: yuk i hate my writing. | WORDS: 779 | TAGGED: lorelai LYRICS: NO FLOODS BY LADY GAGA | CREDITS: BOOGIE @ CAUTION 2.0 |
|
|
|
Post by lorelai anchors on Aug 15, 2010 21:42:04 GMT -5
TAKE A BREATH TAKE IT DEEP CALM YOURSELF HE SAYS TO ME IF YOU
PLAY YOU PLAY FOR KEEPS TAKE THE GUN AND COUNT TO THREE • • •& i'm sweating now moving slow no time to think my turn to go
AND YOU CAN SEE MY HEART BEATING
YOU CAN SEE IT THROUGH MY CHEST I stared at my reflection in the mirror, a solid frown on my face. I looked pathetic. I was so pale, so thin. Not only did I feel sick, but I looked sick. The worst part was, really, that even when I felt fine I didn’t look it. I always had bags under my eyes or looked abnormally pale and that was something I was really tired of. I sighed and turned on the faucet, running my finger under the water until it was cold. I cupped my hands beneath it until I gathered enough, then I bowed my head, splashing the water in my face. I sputtered as I straightened up, shaking my head and immediately pressing the nearest hand towel to my face. I don’t know why I always did that; it never really worked, but I guess it sounded like it would. I’d learn eventually, hopefully.
I emerged from the bathroom, feeling somewhat better. That was, of course, until I saw Rachel’s face. My brow quipped in confusion and I almost didn’t notice the box flying out of her hand. I heard it land, however, and my gaze flitted downward, my eyes widening. There, at my feet, was my AZT; and it had flown out of Rachel’s hand. I froze, horrified. At the same time, my stomach twisted and I felt the overwhelming urge to run back into the bathroom and throw up, but as it stood, I found I couldn’t move. Her question burned my ears and I visibly winced, seemingly shaken from my reverie. The reality of what was being asked of me weighed heavily on my shoulders and I was beginning to feel lightheaded. Slowly, I bent down to pick up my medicine and made my way over to the bed, taking a seat again. I didn’t think I’d be able to get through this standing up.
I had never told anybody outside of my family about this. Perhaps Logan Aster and the rest of the gang had a hunch, but I’d never confirmed it to any of them. They were all long since graduated, anyways. I was afraid to tell people, partially because my parents’ response had frightened me beyond belief. They still hadn’t forgiven me, so I supposed that was why I was under the impression that everyone would hate me after they found out. I had made a mistake. A bigger one than anyone else could imagine, and now Rachel was going to know. She was going to hate me.
“I made a lot of mistakes,” I began, lowering my gaze in shame. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks as I gripped her bed comforter nervously. “At the beginning of High School, I did a lot of bad things. Not… Not because I wanted to, but because I was afraid of not fitting in. I was scared, and I got… I got roped into the wrong crowed. Made friends with the wrong people. And I made some mistakes.” I took a deep breath, trying not to cry. That wouldn’t help my situation any more. “I’ve been clean for a year, and I won’t… I won’t touch anything ever again, I swear. I won’t even look at it.” I began to tremble, squeezing my eyes shut. I couldn’t risk seeing her face. She was going to kick me out; I knew it. “It’s still… Still HIV, but it’s mutating quickly, I-I guess. Doctor said I probably wouldn’t make it to my 30’s.” I felt sick. “I’m so sorry, please… Please don’t hate me. My family’s so angry with me and the whole death thing is punishment enough, I don’t…” I was rambling now, and I had to get a grip before I started crying. “I don’t want to lose what little friends I do have over this. I’m sorry.” Biting my lip harshly, I kept my eyes shut, profanities running through my mind.
|
|
|
|
Post by rachel berry on Aug 18, 2010 8:01:56 GMT -5
When she came back into my room, I realised I had made a mistake. I wished I could go back in time and change everything. She was one of my few friends and she probably hated me now. It looked like I'd been snooping through my stuff, and my confrontation hadn't exactly been friendly. But maybe, just maybe, it was a good thing. If I was the only one outside of her family who knew the secret, she could come to me and talk to me when she felt sick. And then she would confide everything in me. It would make us closer. She'd see me as trustworthy and non-judgemental. The look in her face at the moment, however, was heart-breaking. She looked scared and horrified and I felt like a monster. She sat down on my bed and slowly I went over and sat next to her, on the edge so I could look into her eyes. When she said she had done bad things I wondered if she was referring to sex or drugs, seeing as AIDS was spread by bodily fluids and that could mean blood or semen. But she said she wouldn't touch anything again and I guessed that meant she had been using drugs. It was a lot to say that she'd never touch.. that.. again. Or maybe she did mean a guy's junk. If she had HIV she didn't want to give it to the person she fell for, did she? It must be so horrible for her. When she said she wouldn't make it to her thirties I bit my lip. I know a lot of people would probably tease her for this, but I didn't want to. All I felt for her was sympathy. She was my friend and she had a fatal and incurable disease and she needed someone to talk to. When she finished talking I inhaled shakily, trying to think of a reply to that. I couldn't think of one, so instead, I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her into an awkward hug, the best I could do sitting down.
As if by magic, Seasons of Love from Rent came on and I closed my eyes. How awkward did this want to get? I got up and pressed next on my iPod, relieved to see that Patti LuPone was on next with Rose's Turn. I realised that show tunes weren't Lorelai's favourite, and Gypsy wasn't the most known musical out there, but it would be more comforting than Rent, right? I sat back down next to her slowly and looked down at my lap, tracing patterns on my thighs as I thought of something to say to her. "It's going to be okay" was too cliché and was also a lie. Everything they said in the movies or on television sounded foreign on my lips. "I'm here for you, you know. You can tell me anything. I won't tell anyone, and I'll do my best to comfort you and all. I won't judge you" I said with a weak and friendly smile. "Others can desert you, not to worry, whistle, I'll be there." I sung quietly, raising an eyebrow and still looking at her with the same smile, waiting for her to relax slightly. I knew it would take a while, but what was done was done and I wasn't going to stop being her friend because of this. I squeezed her arm gently and then stood up slowly. I wasn't sure what she wanted to do now, go home or stay. And if she wanted to stay, would she still want to sing? Or watch a movie or talk or what? "Do you want to talk about it? Maybe you could sing, that always helps me. Or I stay in bed and watch Barbra Streisand films back to back. But that's just me." I rolled my eyes at myself. Watching The Way We Were and The Mirror Has Two Faces after I'd broke up with Jesse was probably, in hindsight, a bad idea, but just seeing my idol at her best on the TV had comforted me a little. It reminded me I had a future, and soon I would be filling Barbra's shoes and I wouldn't be giving Jesse St James a second thought. But Lorelai didn't have that. When she looked to her future she saw premature death. I looked at the floor, trying not to imagine what it felt like.
*********************** NOTES: >.> lala | WORDS: 746 | TAGGED: lorelai LYRICS: NO FLOODS BY LADY GAGA | CREDITS: BOOGIE @ CAUTION 2.0 |
|
|
|
Post by lorelai anchors on Aug 20, 2010 0:44:06 GMT -5
TAKE A BREATH TAKE IT DEEP CALM YOURSELF HE SAYS TO ME IF YOU
PLAY YOU PLAY FOR KEEPS TAKE THE GUN AND COUNT TO THREE • • •& i'm sweating now moving slow no time to think my turn to go
AND YOU CAN SEE MY HEART BEATING
YOU CAN SEE IT THROUGH MY CHEST I was just waiting for it. I wasn’t sure how it would come; perhaps a quiet ‘please leave’ in some sort of attempt to be polite. Perhaps she’d refuse to hide how disgusted she was, and demand it without the first word to lighten the blow. Perhaps she’d lecture me first, about how much of an idiot I was, or perhaps she’d flat out yell and insult me. I deserved it, of course. I was an idiot; there was nothing I’d ever be able to do to change that. But it was already done. She already knew everything about me, because there really wasn’t much to me once you got past the whole HIV thing. What you saw was what you got. A timid, shy girl with a social awkwardness unrivaled anywhere else and a love for the banjo. I had no future. My parents had told me simply that once I graduated, I was to become independent, but I didn’t have the grades for college. I was never that smart of a girl in the first place and I lost all hope once I started coming to school high all the time. So I was forced to remain as I was, accepting that I had little time to live and knowing that being sick now was just going to get worse as the virus mutated. Perhaps I would end up in the city after graduation. Perhaps I would just play music on the streets for cash, get a small place in a bad part of town and live my life that way. It didn’t sound too bad. As long as I had my banjo, everything would be okay. Perhaps New Directions would give me the confidence I need to add vocals to the music, which would probably attract more people. Yeah, that sounded great.
I didn’t really expect her reaction to be what it was. I felt her arms around me and I slowly returned the hug, closing my eyes as I rested my chin on her shoulder. It was awkward, to say the least, but that was more accredited to our position than anything else. I grimaced some as the song on her Ipod changed, and I fumbled awkwardly with the hem of my dress as she rushed up to fix it. She spoke, but I couldn’t figure out if she was being sincere or if it was just her being nice. I mean, I guess I couldn’t blame her. What did you say to someone who just told you they had HIV? It was certainly out of the blue and unexpected and I was sure she didn’t know what to say. So she was probably just being nice, pitying me, which I didn’t want, either. I smiled ever so slightly and shrugged a shoulder. “Thank you,” I murmured, lowering my gaze once more to the floor in front of me, “But it’s okay. I’ve learned to deal with it on my own, I guess. My parents still haven’t forgiven me, and so for the past year it’s really just been, y’know, me. It’s my own fault. My own mistakes. I deserve what I got and what’s coming, I know. So I’ve just… Accepted it, I guess. There’s nothing I can do but let nature take its course.” I sighed, then glanced up at her. “But I guess it’s good you know. Excessive movement like dancing and stuff might be a bit hard, so if I run out in the middle of rehearsal or something because I have to throw up… Well, at least you’ll know why. No one else will, but I’ll have to deal with that.” I bit my lip, looking down again. “That’s why I get sick a lot, too.” And really, I was ill quite often.
She began to suggest things to try and make me feel better, and I quickly shook my head. “It’s okay. Really,” I urged, “Let’s just… You wanna do something?” I asked suddenly, then took a deep breath, “My head’s sort of swimming and I feel nauseated so I just kinda want to distract myself. We could go catch a movie or get food or bowl or go skating or something. My treat.” Yeah, I didn’t feel like talking or singing. Anything to get my mind off of it all would be spectacular.
|
|
|
|
Post by rachel berry on Aug 22, 2010 12:57:07 GMT -5
I listened to her talk and looked down at my hands, twisting my fingers around one another, occasionally looking up at her, almost to make sure she wasn't climbing out the window as she spoke. This really wasn't how I planned this to go. I had originally thought that we would sing a few songs and maybe even record a duet for Myspace if she was good (although she probably wouldn't be up for that, she wasn't the most confident person). Then we could have gone downstairs and watched the music channels and laughed at all the brainless and talentless stars on them, and discuss how we were so much better than them. If she was hungry we could have gone out and got something to eat or maybe just get some pizza in. She could have stayed over and we would have discussed what was going on in our lives and I'd probably end up talking about Jesse and Finn. Maybe mention what had happened with Seth, hoping she wouldn't judge me. I still judged myself about that night, let alone someone else. But here we were, in reality, sitting on the edge of my bed talking about Lorelai's life-threatening disease. I felt sorry for her, but then I felt bad for feeling sorry for her, and I wasn't sure whether to remain apathetic or if that would come off as too harsh. If I looked too friendly she'd probably think it was false and that I was judging her about the bad choices she had made. She needed to know that I'd never be so two-faced. I said what I thought and although occasionally I lost friends over it at least I remained honest and truthful. She had stopped speaking by now and I knew I had to say something but words had escaped me.
For what seemed like the first time in my life I was speechless. I usually always had something to say. But everything I thought of to say sounded so fake and meaningless. "Yeah. And I'll look out for you. If it seems like the practice is getting too much for you, just drop me a hint and I'll do something. I'm famous for attracting people's attention, to the extent everyone things I'm far too over-dramatic." I told her, smiling slightly. I was theatrical, I admit it. I knew how to walk in and steal the scene, halt the show so that all eyes were on me. Eventually, that talent was going to get me out of Ohio and into Broadway. I just knew it. She suggested we did something and I nodded. Staying in my room to sing suddenly seemed like a bad idea, and singing in my room never sounded like a bad idea to me. I bit my lip as I tried to decide for something for us to do and then I walked over to my laptop, opening it again. I opened the website for the cinema (after I had briefly checked my Myspace of course) and browsed through the films on show. Nothing particularly caught my eye but I left it open so that Lore could have a look, anyway. I considered the other options she had put forwards. I wasn't overly hungry, I had just had some soup. Bowling reminded me of my first 'date' with Finn, and skating reminded me of Jesse. Up until a few days ago, it hurt to mention their names, even mentally. Now all I felt was guilt. I wasn't dating either of them, not really, but I still felt like I had cheated on them. Looking back down at the floor, I gathered my emotions. Lorelai had far much more to deal with and I was worrying about some petty boy trouble. "Maybe we should go bowling. I haven't been for a while." I said finally. It had been long enough since I had gone there with Finn, nearly a year now. The feelings I experienced there would be more muted and faint than the ones at the roller rink. *********************** NOTES: not my best | WORDS: 676 | TAGGED: lorelai LYRICS: NO FLOODS BY LADY GAGA | CREDITS: BOOGIE @ CAUTION 2.0 |
|
|
|
Post by lorelai anchors on Aug 29, 2010 23:54:40 GMT -5
TAKE A BREATH TAKE IT DEEP CALM YOURSELF HE SAYS TO ME IF YOU
PLAY YOU PLAY FOR KEEPS TAKE THE GUN AND COUNT TO THREE • • •& i'm sweating now moving slow no time to think my turn to go
AND YOU CAN SEE MY HEART BEATING
YOU CAN SEE IT THROUGH MY CHEST I guess I just wanted Rachel to know that I was alright with everything. Well… Not ‘okay’, per se, but I wanted to assure her that I had a handle on it all. That I knew what I had done and I knew the consequences and I’d accepted it for what it was. It upset me, sure. I was scared. But she didn’t have to worry about me, because what was done was done and that was all that really mattered. The most she would need to do was perhaps cover for me if I got sick in the middle of practice, or if I happened to miss a few days in a row. Those both were liable to happen, after all. I got sick a lot. But I didn’t want her to worry about me, because there was no point in doing that. I didn’t want her thinking “what if she dies?” because I was going to die, just not anytime soon. Ten years was a long time. Sure, it was a bit intimidating when I thought back and realized that I’d already lived half of my life, but… Still. I was fine. I would be fine. It was just a matter of time. I wanted her to know that so she didn’t fret over me, because I didn’t deserve that. So I’d let her know, in time, that I had everything handled as best I could. I couldn’t hold back a chuckle at her words, breaking a smile. “I’m okay. There’s no need to look out for me, really. I handle things as best I can, and usually it turns out alright. But thank you. I-it means a lot, y’know? My parents still give me the cold shoulder when I walk into the room, and I hate it. But if I find that I’m in need of a rest during glee, I’ll let you know.” She spoke the truth -- she really was marvelous at creating diversions, enough that I’d be able to slip out of the room unnoticed and back in to catch the last five minutes of whatever rant she happened to be going on at the time.
I watched as she moved around, obviously trying to sort out what we should do. I hoped she still wanted to do something; I didn’t think I’d be able to handle going home after all of this. I had too much thinking to do. Finally, she settled on bowling, and I grinned, nodding in her direction. “Great. I can probably get us a free game, or… At least free sodas, since I work there and everything. Worst that would happen is my pay check would get docked, but it won’t hurt.” I grabbed my AZT and walked over to the glass of water she had sitting on the end table, popping two pills into my mouth and washing them down. I cleared my throat and stuffed the pills back into my bag, slinging it over my shoulder. “I went just a few days ago, actually. With Mike Chang. Before that, I hadn’t been bowling in awhile. Naturally, he smoked me, so… You’ll probably win. But still, it should be fun. I’ll drive.” I made my way down the stairs, sliding on my shoes while I waited for her to join me.
|
|
