|Fire and Rain
Author: jada jasmine PM
Why, then, did she feel so acutely…broken at this exact moment in time? Love must be the explanation. What else is there? ChadSharpay. Oneshot.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Romance/Angst - Words: 643 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 1 - Published: 05-07-08 - Status: Complete - id: 4243259
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
So this is Chadpay…typical. The title is from James Taylor's "Fire and Rain". angsty. So much so, that I don't even know if this makes any sense. Feel free to say so in a review or PM. Anyways…please enjoy and then review!
Fire and Rain.
Sharpay tripped clumsily over her own two feet, stumbling her way up the stairs. When she finally reached her apartment, she fiddled with her keys and poorly attempted to insert them into the lock. After finally gaining access into her apartment, she threw her purse and shoes into some corner.
She wouldn't be able to find them in the morning. She wouldn't remember any of it in the morning.
Making her way towards the bedroom, she stopped abruptly in front of her picture-filled hallway. There were various publicity shots of her with famous clients (Ryan being one of them), a few formal portraits with the legendary creatures she called her parents, and very few pictures with the even fewer amount of genuine friends she had made from the last ten years.
Ten years. Damn, it had gone by fast.
She fixed her gaze onto the only picture that wasn't posed or forced. She was smiling, laughing actually, at someone off-frame. A few corkscrew curls were visible, as they always were. Typical really. Because that was the only time that she hadn't been posed or forced. If her cheeks hurt from smiling, it was because she was laughing so hard with him, not because the photographers at an event wanted one more shot.
They were the King and Queen of Unexpected. Light-years away from "Most Likely to Last". Nowhere near the infinity sign. But, she thinks, probably the closest she'll ever be to really falling in love.
The nervous, excited, I don't know what I'm doing love that they had perfected. The uncomfortable, I'm a virgin, cliché Prom deflowering love.
Fingering the few stray curls visible through the glass frame, she sighed heavily. The breath clung to the glass, unwilling to let go. Frantically rubbing away the manmade frost, she urgently stared at those curls.
Then she collapsed.
She fell to the ground, bringing down three or four pictures with her. She'd seen the movies with the hung-up high school love. She knew that didn't happen in real life. And it hadn't for her, not really.
They had fallen out of love. Or out of contact at least.
She never felt the sharp, physical pain when they were separated, so she had just assumed. She didn't even know if she was feeling that right now.
She didn't know anything right now. She was drunk.
Why, then, did she feel so acutely…broken at this exact moment in time? Love must be the explanation. What else is there?
Thinking was hard, almost too hard when she was this intoxicated, but she thought he was worth it.
When Gabi had called her with the news, she had actually dropped the phone. He had always been adventurous, but self-destructive? How very cliché of him. And for a second, she smiled, because she had rubbed off on him somehow.
But then she felt reality slap her, and she didn't know why. Why were these feelings even there? They hadn't even talked in ten years. She didn't bother with reunions, even though she was sure that he reveled in them. Then she left the apartment, grabbing a purse with only cash for drinks in it.
It wasn't until this precise second, the one right before she passed out where she was between dreams and real life, that she realized what had been bothering her.
"I always thought that I'd see you again"