Author: NovaGirl PM
Set in SSX-3, Elise thinks about a person she finds herself missing--and writes to them. Hints of slash.Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama - Words: 656 - Reviews: 10 - Favs: 2 - Published: 09-13-03 - id: 1518991
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I've borrowed the October edition of PS Magazine, and WOW. This has inspired me to do a heck of a lot of writing for SSX again. Now, I know you're thinking: "But Brodi! And JP! And that lovable Eddie!" Well, I'm doing this *for* them.
I'm also doing this to atone for my sins. You
see, I fell victim to a horrible, horrible tendency I see running amok in this
fandom. Stereotyping. Elise is always golden, Marisol evil, Mac a blusher, Kaori
ditzy....The list goes on. I'm going to bring out characterizations *I*
believe in now. And if I can get you readers to believe them too, I've
This is a E/M fic. Why? I honestly like the pairing.
Long (c) NovaGirl 2003.
It's been a while, hasn't it.
But please, don't start with your Spanish on me. You know I don't speak it, and you know I don't care how you insult me anymore. We both know it.
I just wanted you to know I took your advice. My
hair's long now. Though I must say, I don't feel that much more outgoing. Maybe
just a bit. Do you still watch? I know the league was irritated with your
scandals, but I never minded. First I used it as ammo...then...
Damn it Marisol, don't you know how hard it is to talk to you about this?
You were right about me. Are you happy?
I'm not happy. I miss you. Isn't that strange?
There's a new girl, Allegra. She's...she's good,
I guess. But she wants my title. She won't have it. Have you seen her ride? You
must have--you wouldn't not be a spectator just because Rah's got his dick in a
twist. Honestly, she's a Pippi reject. Now you...
I didn't like you at first. But always, *always* I respected you. You had grace out there. You tripped over your board sometimes--it was too long for you and we both knew it--but you never let it phase you. Al...She just needs victory.
She's enough like me to make me sick.
I can't compete against her properly. She knows she'll beat me eventually. I know she will--and I know I'll fight back. We'll just keep fighting until we can't take anymore. You and I, you see, we treated it like one of your dances. One step this way, one step the other...
I'm wasting paper just talking about myself--and
for that, I apologise. See? I'm not such an ice queen anymore.
But those'll have to wait...till we meet in person?
I want to see you again, Marisol. You know where the headquarters are, and that little coffee shop? There, if you could. On the weekend, or something. If you have the time--modelling agencies are all over you, I heard. And your dance studio....
Listen. Just show if you can, and I'll be grateful.
I miss you.
The chimes of the door swayed gently at 8:53 pm
that Saturday night, patrons chatting intimately in their snow-logged sweaters,
sipping their hot drinks to unwind.
But this person had no need to unwind. She was dressed in attire ridiculous for where she was--clothing that suited her that she would never give up.
A pair of sunglasses slid off, pink lenses more suited to Malibu than Whistler.
"It's been a while, hasn't it Chiquita."
Ms. Riggs looked up--
And for the first time in months, she let out a
true, broad smile as she stood up, taking her hand.
"It sure has."
The door chimed again, and two young women walked into the night.