title: the tragedy starts from the very first spark

summary: i wish you weren't so good.

inspiration: don't you wish, that we could forget that kiss?

author's note: so this changed completely from what I wanted. the whole thing was supposed to end... not weakly. i'm so tired but i'm in such a good mood all the time right now whatever. THE BOY I LIKED ASKED ME OUT ON A DATE AND YAY~. i'm a freeeak. don't judge.

pairing: so this is mad weird and I wanted a good tori&robbie but it didn't work.

by the way the title isn't mine, I wish it was.


he doesn't like beginnings – they led to a story which leads to misery which leads to a happy ending and – he doesn't like to pinpoint when a certain person fell in love with another person.

he falls in love with her on october twenty-ninth.


two thirty in the morning – he's driving home in the pouring rain and he almost crashes into her. her brown hair tries to catch the wind.

she's crying – her mascara mingling with the rain and her tears – and he wouldn't think she was crying if her eyes weren't so red.

he opens the door, he doesn't know her – but she's that beautiful kind of girl – the kind of girl you would want to trust – even if she broke you. he offers her a ride because he's that kind of guy – the one who falls in love with a girl at first sight – because no one understands him, they think he's kind of weird but. she looks at him with broken eyes when he opens the door and she says, "thank you so much, thank you so very much."

she gives her address. her wails overlap the eric clapton cd his dad gave him for christmas one year.

she kisses him when they are outside her house – tastes like salt and alcohol and broken dreams and... "i'm so sorry," she whispers.

he thinks this is going to be the rest of his life – when she leaves his car. a voice travels from the backseat, "you're never ever going to be loved."


he buys a feist cd and blasts it – blasts it till his ear drums are shattered.

"i want to be loved," he says – when he's alone in his car and those two seconds of silence between the song are deathly quiet.

he leans back and listens to the beautiful music wave over his lips. the words can't seem to relate to him – too many sad songs about love. he doesn't really know what love is – exactly. he knows the feeling of infatuation – he thinks.


his dad plays al green at the funeral.

"i loved her so much, son." he's crying, "i don't know what to do without her."

stop, he wants to whisper, you've got to be strong for me and lizzy and –

"she'd like to know that you're happy, dad."

he leaves early and drinks a bottle of brandy he found in his dad's liquor cabinet – for emergency, he used to say. the taste is awful and the smell fogs his car and he plays fleetwood mac – because he knows his mom used to sing him their greatest hits when he was a baby.

his dad finds him in the morning, the empty bottle on the car seat next to him.

"daddy," lizzy says, sitting on the car hood, "i want the stars to shine through the hood of the car and give mommy to me. you know, we're not going to last without her."

his dad cries.


sometimes, he plays simon & garfunkel in his car as he drives the streets – the ones he found her on.

he never finds her – he doesn't think he will.


he loves music – loves it so much that sometimes it washes over his thoughts and -

his dad hands him a gift.

"it will save you - i think."

he sings at night and the voice travels over for the first time, "be quiet. you can't sing for shit. you'll never be anything your mother was."

he sings louder – lets the waves wash over him.

he is reading the newspaper in the morning, his hands can't seem to flip the pages with an object on one – and he sees the advertisement.

he goes to the auditions – his guitar against his back and he waits until it's his turn.

"how can you mend a broken heart?" he asks the judges.

his wooden friend sits next to him, always there, in case.

they ask to see him perform with his friend – and he thinks – is this it?


he gets the letter.

you've been accepted. we cannot wait to see how you will make your mark at our school.

"luck. pure, golden luck," the voice says.

he drowns his happiness in a bottle of gin – holding his nose.

"mommy, please be proud," he slurs.


when he walks in on his first day – he sees the same shade of brown. it belongs to a girl who's bigger and older than the same girl.

he is infatuated with her temporarily – even though she's mean and teases him and no one likes her. she's nothing but a place holder.

he falls in like with a lot of girls – actually. a girl who's mean and pulls his hair and steals his wooden friend. a girl who is a bit crazy, her hair a bright bright bright color that eats away his heart.

he waits for the brown haired girl – he's a bit of a romantic – don't you know?


when it becomes clear that she won't come around, he goes to a party with his friends – he's pretty excited to call them friends.

he dances and drinks beer and he feels like his fitting in – even though he has a puppet on his arm.

girls dance against people and a girl rubs against him – and he feels like he's alive – or maybe he feels like he's dead – he's not sure.

he thinks he sees her across the makeshift dance floor – her eyes bright and her hair brown – her teeth shining. the music playing is awful – some shit about fireworks or something – and he thinks he might have died.

he walks forward – away from the pretty girl with too much makeup on and to the broken girl who shined.

she walks away though – too fast for him. and again, he's lost too much.


people think he's talentless at his school. or maybe it's more like he feels talentless compared to them.

the school year passes – he doesn't do anything of note while ten people have found a movie to star in – extras mostly – but still. three people sign onto a label, two get jobs at comedy clubs, a handful get lighting jobs and some are technical consultants.

he sings two songs at a showcase, gets one main role in the school play.

he's nothing to himself – to others. that's what his puppet says.

he's nothing to her.


summer rolls along and he works at a supermarket bagging groceries to help his dad pay for school. sometimes he sits in the back and eats ice cream that's discounted for employees.

he tries to do something – be something.

he writes songs about a kiss with a broken girl. he plays music that breaks his thoughts.

he just can't play the part of his mother's son – and he doesn't receive any encouragement from his puppet.

he'll never be a star and he'll never get the girl and – that's all there is to it.

he sometimes swims in the ocean and lets the water that's touched so many people's mouths and hearts and smiles and –

he wants to be a part of something. his friends don't come around during the summer – off working or vacationing. he's alone and starving for a conversation that lasts longer than the stupid ones that awkwardly occur during a supermarket transaction.

the girl with the bright bright bright hair comes home from mexico – her skin tanned and her hair a shade lighter. she tells him about the sun hitting her skin and the waves touching her lips. he kisses her in the middle of her sentence. they move slowly and happily – her teeth grazing his lip as she smiles.

they go out a few times – and he thinks – if he could stop thinking about a different brown eyed girl, this could be it. but the bright haired girl doesn't really understand what he means when he says she's his girlfriend.

"you are the very best guy friend, too! you're going to meet a really great girl one day."

she doesn't understand why he walks away with clenched fists.

the puppet laughs at his tears, "you ugly boy. you're never going to be in love."

he turns to him, "i hate you. i really do."

and that's the moment that he realizes that his head isn't really all together.


he goes back to school, goes through the normal routine – he avoids the girl with bright hair and she doesn't notice because she's just a little bit crazy. crazy like him, he thinks.

he wants to sing a song for the showcase – but he's kind of lost.

his dad plays feist's cd one night, and robbie realizes the showcase is the second anniversery of his mother's death. let it die comes on the speakers – the words washing over his thoughts and he knows – this is the song.

he practices it every night, and he can ignore the hurried taunts – because he's got a voice – you know.

on the night of the showcase, he's getting ready to go on soon, but then, the placeholder gets sick and he sees her.

the brown eyed girl with the bright smile that hides all those secrets – he's dying and smiling and she's even more beautiful than he remembers.

she fills in and makes it shine and –

she doesn't seem to remember him – not one shred of a memory passes her eyes when she says hello.

(doesn't he know? singers and actors have to be liars. his momma was one too.)

he doesn't get to sing his song – but it's okay, because right now, in this room with her, he thinks, everything will sort itself out.


he bumps into her – in the hallway. she drags him into a janitor's closet.

she kisses him – so sweet and lovely and he thinks he's in love with her so he says it.

"i'm in love with you."

"i was scared," she says sadly, "that when i let myself love a stanger – but now i'm scared that you love me."

"but –"

she smiles, "you may think you love me now, but you aren't going to love me when you get to know me."

she leaves the closet – the door sweeps shut with a quiet click.


he finds out that she kisses aladdin the period after.

he wonders if he left a taste of broken promises on his tongue – he'd like to let his best friend know that the brown eyed girl was his – before she rejected him, of course.


one day, she doesn't have a ride home from school. he drives over, his eric clapton cd playing lightly and his eyes open and hopeful.

"do you need a ride?"

she looks at him and sighs. she whispers when she gets in, "you might not remember where i live."

he nods, "i remember."

he drives and she starts to cry, all too familiar and he pulls over – turns to her. she kisses him, her hands grabbing for his hair and he pulls her into his lap and the horn honks before he realizes she's against him. she is panting – pulls him into the backseat.

she takes his virginity – and he thinks he's so blissfully – he feels right even though he lasted for like, two seconds. she begins to cry against his arm, and he pulls her in – but she pushes away.

"i - i can't be around you. we can't –"

he looks at her fragile eyes and she looks different – evil, almost.

"okay," he says and he gets into the driver's seat and brings her home.

"i wish you weren't so good," she whispers.

she gets out, wiping her tears.

he's so broken, he thinks.

his puppet doesn't say a word.


they don't bring up what happened again.

he stays heartbroken. she falls in love.

he always stays the same – until he throws out his puppet and gets contacts but.

he never gets the girl. not the right one, anyway.