Okay... so ever since i saw BT concert (which was the most amazing thing I've ever seen lol) I havvent been able to get the ideas of alternate worlds out of my mind. What if gustave never came back? That's the one question repeating itself.
So... this happened. I honestly dont know where it came from. Maybe it was when I was listening to "Dreaming With a Broken Heart" by John Mayer... (shrugs) who knows...
Well,,, read... enjoy :)
He watched her from a distance. The fog against the glass hiding him for her view. And yet, he could see her perfectly. He watched as her hair bounced gracefully behind her as she skipped along, and he watched as that familiar bright smile spread across her lips. He remembered that smile, remembered how her dark eyes seemed to get a million times brighter as she grinned.
His heart sunk and his eyes stung.
Long ago, back when she still loved him, back when everything seemed perfect, he remembered that he was the only one who could get her to smile like that. He would say something totally ridiculous, or trip over his own feet, and then marvel in the beauty of that one smile, letting the melody of her laugh fly by in the wind for all to hear.
He saw leaves of the trees outside move, breaking themselves free of the branches and flutter to the ground with the mid-autumn breeze. As if to taunt him, she threw her head back and laughed, the wind carrying it through what he once thought to be the safety of the walls around him, and it seemed to hit him right in the chest.
She looked so happy, as she fixed the hat on her head and stomped along through the piles of leaves. The leaves flew up around her, circling around her frame and dancing along beside her. Some flew away as more breeze blew by, others fell back to the ground, and the rest fell into her spell and grew attached to her, latching themselves onto the cloth of her clothes or the fabric of the black hat she wore. She turned, her dark hair fanning out behind her, and that smile he loved so much grew even wider. Her lips formed a word, a name to be correct, and he shoved in a breath and squeezed his eyes shut, wishing and -for a second- imagining that it was his name she was saying. He thought back to when it could have been his name escaping her lips, could have been his hands resting on her waist as they kissed, could have been him making her smile and giggle like that.
But it wasn't.
Her laugh was then joined by another one. One also familiar to his ears. He watched from his vantage point behind the window of the coffee shop as someone else came up behind her, the much too familiar face of his best friend (or should he say, former best friend) coming into view. He watched as she looked up, her eyes getting even brighter upon settling on him.
He ran his hands through his hair, his hazel eyes unable to break away from the scene unfolding right in front of him. He suddenly regretted coming back, putting himself through this misery. Why was he so depressed anyways? He had millions of girls all over the world swooning just at the mention of his name. He could pick any he wanted, he didn't need her. She was just a girl in the past. An old flame. A teenage fling. Puppy love. Whatever the hell you wanted to call it. He was over her, she was over him. End of story.
He sighed. Of course, these were just lies he had conjured up over time. All those nights as he lie in bed alone, staring up at the ceiling of his super-cool crib, the memories of all of those moments they had shared repeating themselves in his head, playing out in his mind, forming into actual visions behind his eyelids, almost like a movie. All those little moments that never seemed like much but now seemed like the most important thing in the world to him. Every time the sun would peak through the fancy blue curtains of his amazing room, he found himself wanted to just pull the covers over his head and never getting up.
Suddenly, he found himself singing the lyrics to that John Mayer song softly to himself. Before, when he would catch her playing the piano at the studio, her iPod tucked away in her back pocket and the ear buds secured tightly into her ears, he never really understood why she loved John Mayer so much. The slow, piano/acoustic guitar songs were so notthe type he would sing. Then, out of pure curiosity, he looked up one certain song, and it now ruled his life.
He scoffed and shook his head, glancing up as the waitress came around and filled his cup with more coffee. Looks like John Mayer was right, he thought to himself, staring at his reflection in the fogged glass. Waking up is always the hardest part.
His eyes moved from his reflection to the scene outside once more, and he suddenly realized that before, that would have been impossible. But, he had to admit, he just couldn't stay away from her. She seemed to have this gravitational pull that just pulled him back and back again. By this point he was supposed to be halfway around the world, performing for his fans in Germany or something. But instead he was here, sitting in an empty Minnesota coffee shop, watching as the only girl he ever really loved go about her life. He wondered how long it had taken her to realize her feelings for his best friend, and he only hoped it wasn't shortly after he had left.
He watched from the distance as she teasingly reached up and tugged on the strap of the helmet he wore, and he watched as he laughed and wrapped his arms around her. They both shared a smile before both leaning in...
He set down his mug and looked away. He assumed this was his consequence for hurting her so badly. He knew that it was wrong, leaving with on such a bad note with her. He knew what he had told her wasn't right, for it wasn't even true. Nothing would ever be more important to him than her, not even his music, he knew that now.
But he also realized it was too late.
He had left with no goodbye, no letter, no phone call, nothing. He had just walked right out and assumed it to be the best choice. He never really realized how much it would hurt her if he left. Honestly, he hadn't really thought about it at the time. All he could think about was the money and the fame. He had come, secretly hoping on apologizing and begging her for forgiveness, and the shallow pop star side of him actually thought she would take him back.
She had moved on, found comfort in none other than the one he had trusted so dearly. And now, as he saw the way the looked at each other, he knew that the love she used to feel for him was now transferred to someone else, and probably magnified a thousand times. He watched as they both stood together in the pile of leaves, and his heart ached as he wished it was him holding her and not the Latino she had now fallen for. It pained him to think that he would never again hold her, or talk to her, or share the little moments he loved, or kiss her the way that Carlos was kissing her now.
The pulled away after what, for him, seemed like an eternity, and their foreheads touched gingerly, that smile, his smile, taking over her lips. The Latino only stared at her in awe, his hand coming up cup her cheek. They shared another short kiss, and then Carlos' lips moved, and he said something that caused her to grin like an idiot.
He didn't have to hear to know what he had said.
Then he realized something.
Something that caused his heart to stop and the tears finally escape.
He just now suddenly realized that he had never told her that he loved her.
There WILL be another chapter!
...if you review.