The idea for this story came to me about two years ago and made me think about trying to write my own fanfiction. Now I finally have this first chapter ready to post and I'm very excited about this story!
The characters have lived with me for so long, but I only have notes written down, so don't expect quick updates.
Thank you Jasper1863Hale, Maureen Thomas and Karenec for pre-reading and Sue273 for betaing. Thank you KellanCougar for helping me decide on the title and the summary. I'm very grateful to all of you.
The story's title come from the song with the same name by Massive Attack: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=8jRzm3dJ-_c
In every chapter Jasper will be listening to a song and I will note which it is, if you want to listen to the same song as you read.
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.
The song Jasper listens to in Rosalie's car at the end of this chapter is 'Suicide by Star' by God is an Astronaut: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=fZltd_nz2ag
Mustering all the courage he can find in his fifteen year old scrawny body, Jasper leaves his bedroom and knocks hard on Rosalie's door, determined to ignore the nervousness in his stomach.
It flings open before he can knock a second time, revealing Emmett, face flushed and with his fly open. "Where's the fire?" his deep voice booms in the hall.
"Not in your pants, that's for sure," Jasper's two year older sister quips back, her words like a whip from where she stands behind Emmett. She shoves him out into the corridor. "Now, be gone or be late!"
Emmett stumbles down the stairs, blowing a kiss to her, and throwing words to him, "See you later, Jas!"
A second later, they hear their front door rattle in its frame and Jasper turns to face his older sister, biting his lip.
"I guess the blowjob didn't relieve as much stress as he hoped it would," Rosalie says dryly, rolling her eyes at her little brother's expression of disgust. "Oh, baby boy, don't give me that face."
"Rose, you know I hate hearing about you and Em doing the nasty." She laughs at his comment, but lets him continue. "Besides, blowjobs are so disgusting. Who wants to have a ... a penis in their mouth?"
"Oh, Jasper, I can't wait for the day you come home with your first girlfriend. How I'm going to tease you!" she laughs, her blue eyes glimmering at him.
Huffing, Jasper finds the thought of coming home with a girl in the near future ridiculous to him. "No one in this small town of ours interests me in that way, you know that."
"We'll see, we'll see," she says like she knows something he doesn't while studying her nails. "So, what's your deal?"
"I'm ready," he says, trying his best to hide the little tremble in his voice with a cough.
Rosalie raises one eyebrow, then marches past him, flipping her waist-long blonde hair in his face. She knows she has the upper hand at the moment.
"Well, come on then!" The end of her sentence echoes against the bathroom tiles. He hurries to follow her before one of them changes their minds. "So where is your stuff?"
She opens the door to the cabinet under the sink and starts jostling around items in there. Shoving her to the side, Jasper quickly finds the blue plastic bag in the back where he hid it a week ago and gives it to her.
He watches as she throws the contents of the bag in the sink. "I hope this is all we'll need because I have to do this right now if I'm ever going to do it."
Rosalie is clearly not listening and doesn't hear the tremble in his voice.
She claps her hands together joyfully. "Ooh, this is going to be so much fun!" Taking a quick look around, she instructs him, "Okay, you should sit on the toilet and pull your t-shirt off."
One hour later, Jasper stares at a very pale looking boy with completely black hair reflected in the mirror. The boy touches his chin just like Jasper does, so it must be him, even though he looks very different. Before he can decide what to think of his new look, a small screech from the door interrupts him.
"Oh, my God!" Rosalie enters his room, wide eyed and staring at him.
She tousles his hair as she passes him on her way to her regular spot in his room - the bay window with a view of the forest at the end of their garden.
She looks expectantly at Jasper as she gets herself comfortable on the cushion, folding her white arms around her long legs. "So, what's the verdict, brother of mine?"
He turns back toward the mirror, feeling his hair. The coloring makes it feel stiffer and it doesn't curl the same way. The strands over his forehead fall into his eyes now.
"You know I want it this way," he says. "I just need a little time to adjust to my own reflection."
He swings his chair back to Rosalie. "What do you think?" His sister's opinion means more to him than he'll ever admit to her willingly.
She smiles reassuringly. "I think it looks great on you." She turns around, looking out at the forest like she always does, sighing. "How I wish this was my room."
"No, you wouldn't want that. You'd only sit and stare out of the window all day," Jasper teases her.
"You don't make as much out of the view as you should," she says accusingly.
Shaking his head, Jasper admits to her, "No, I sit there, too. But I prefer being outside in it; walking in it, smelling, hearing, feeling."
"Yeah, I know," Rosalie whispers. "Just like Dad did."
Jasper blinks at her. "Yeah," he whispers. "Just like Dad did."
Rosalie sighs heavily and gets up. As she heads for the door, she playfully says, "What you really should ask yourself is 'What is Mom going to say?'"
Her laughter fills the hallway as she runs downstairs. Fuck, he hadn't thought this completely through. "Can we just say it was a bet?" he yells after her.
"Oh, no, this is all on you. I only did what you asked me," he hears from downstairs.
"Yeah?" he yells. "What you really should ask yourself is why Em wasn't more sated after you blew him tonight!"
Her laughter sounds far away. "Ha! You're just envious. I'm going to watch Emmett's game now. I think Mom will be home soon, so you better prepare yourself!"
Jasper slaps his hand hard on his forehead. The game! He'd completely forgotten about it. Facing his mom will take all of his courage tonight. There's no way he can go out, too.
He hopes his mother won't have a heart attack, or ground him or something for this. He's never been grounded before like some of his friends, but then again, he usually doesn't do anything wrong and often goes to his mother or his sister if he has any problems.
Deciding to keep his old and familiar clothes on when he hears his mother downstairs, he slowly walks down, taking one step at a time. He becomes more and more nervous until his mother is standing right before him, luckily with her back to him.
"Mom?" Jasper says softly, not to startle her.
"Hmm?" His mother turns around seemingly in slow motion, facing Jasper with a sandwich in her hand. Her food drops to the floor, as she gasps to take in enough air to shriek, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY BEAUTIFUL HAIR?"
She stumbles towards him, pulling her hand through his now black locks.
"Mom, it's my hair, not yours," he reminds her unnecessarily. "You always say hair grows on private ground and this feels like me, you know?"
He goes to the fridge and takes out the ingredients to make new sandwiches, thinking he might as well make some for himself, too. He's always hungry these days.
"Oh, I know it's your own hair, sweetheart," his mother says, coming up behind him at the counter. "But this is so different from your own color. Couldn't you have used something just a little bit darker? Not so, so ... black?" Her warm hand rests on his back and he knows he's safe for now.
"This is how I want it," he answers her and she sighs beside him. "It's not like this is the end of the world or anything."
"Yeah, I get it," she says. "I remember how it is to be a teenager, you know?"
He glances at her sideways, showing her the dimple in his chin that he knows she loves.
Punching his shoulder lightly, she laughs. "Oh, I saw that look. It's not that long ago!" Taking her new sandwich from him, she leans against the counter. "Besides you're a good kid. You always do your homework and never do anything stupid. I'm not going to say anything more about your hair now."
Jasper tries to not let his relief show too much. "Thanks, Mom," he says.
"Did Rosalie help you with this?" his mom asks between bites, looking at him suspiciously.
"Mom! I'm fifteen-years-old, practically a grown up. I can make my own decisions, you know?" he says, trying to keep his sister out of it. "I asked her to help me, but I wanted to tell you myself," he says, popping a tomato into his mouth. Nothing wrong with a little white lie when this seems to be going so well.
"So, why aren't you at the game with Rosalie, when you know how important this game is for Emmett? Are you hiding your new hair?" Fuck, his mother can see straight through him sometimes.
"I'm way too tired to go," he says, pretending to yawn. Leaning down like he's needed to the last months, he kisses his mother's chin. "Goodnight, Mom. See you in the morning."
As he takes the steps two at a time, his mother calls after him, "I'm leaving for an early shift tomorrow, Jasper, but I'll be home to cook dinner for all of us."
Thank God, he thinks, then she won't see his new clothes until she's too late to stop him. If he'd been able to follow his mother's shift schedule at the hospital, he couldn't have planned this any better.
In the morning, Jasper wakes up to his alarm clock ringing, feeling sweaty and breathless with his heart hammering in his chest and he doesn't even know why. A dream, or a long forgotten memory, is slipping away from his consciousness as he tries to remember it.
He takes deep breaths to try to calm himself, looking up at the ceiling where he still sees the glow in the dark stickers from when he was little. He slowly sits up, scratches his head and is immediately reminded of what day it is—the day he shows the world who he is. No more dressing up in the clothes his mother bought for him, or wearing white undies, or anything with much color at all, really.
No more postponing, he thinks. He's already dyed his hair, now he must take the next step.
Swallowing down the fluttering nervousness in his stomach, he stands up and forces himself to be the man he is – fifteen years old and all.
Wearing only his briefs (black ones), he grabs a couple of sets of pants, t-shirts, and a hoodie, goes to the bathroom, where he throws it all on the floor, and turns on the shower.
He's still only in his towel and drying himself when Rosalie marches in and starts brushing her teeth. "Fuck, Rose, I'm getting dressed here."
"So?" Rosalie asks, her words muffled by the toothbrush in her mouth, then she spits in the sink. Kicking the clothes on the floor with her bare foot, she asks, "What have you decided to wear?"
"Uhm, I'm not sure yet," Jasper replies, considering what Rosalie had helped him purchase in secondhand shops in Seattle two weeks ago.
"I'll help you with it," she says, drying her mouth with a towel. Holding up the two sets of worn cargo pants, she inspects them carefully, then hands him the black ones. "You definitely should wear these today. Start off with a bang."
"I mean you should just jump into it. Don't be a coward."
Swallowing hard, he quickly puts them on and grabs the t-shirt Rosalie holds out in front of him. He thinks it must have said something with 'peace' once.
"Now, let's fix your hair a bit and then we should get you something to eat," she says. "You look like you're going to pass out."
Following Rosalie downstairs to the kitchen, she opens the refrigerator, and looks inside as he starts making them lunches for school. "Bacon and eggs?" she asks, knowing well he'll decline.
"Rose, you know I'm a vegetarian. Of course I don't eat bacon!"
He winks at her. "But I wouldn't say no to scrambled eggs."
Sitting at the table eating together, she asks him what the next step in his plan is.
"Oh, I'm going to school with you and I'll hide behind your big back for the rest of the day," he says, making them both laugh. Over the last few months he's grown a head higher than her.
"You wish," she says, trying to stick him with her fork. Jasper stands up when he's finished with his eggs and tea, and starts filling the dishwasher, while Rosalie packs their lunch in their bags.
"No, seriously, what's your plan?" Rosalie asks again when they're tying their shoelaces. She's done before Jasper is finished with just one—his new boots have lots of laces.
"I'm going to show up and if anybody asks me something or makes a comment," he says, trying to keep his voice as steady as he wants it to be, "I'm going to take it from there."
He wiggles a little in his clothes; they feel unfamiliar to him and he jumps up and down a few times, trying to get comfortable in his new boots.
He stops when he sees Rosalie's face. "Are you finished?" she asks. "You're behaving like a cat who's trying to get comfortable in his new bed, or something."
Finally, he buries his hands in the big pockets of his pants. "Very funny," he says, giving her shoulder a push with his, as he passes her on their way to the garage.
"Okay then, let's go." Rosalie grabs her car keys from the basket by the door. "Let's get this show on the road!"
Jasper sits in the passenger side of her car, rolling the window down to feel the still warm autumn breeze on his face while she drives. They listen to some music Rosalie decides on – it's her car, her music choice – and he watches the trees of the forest pass in a flurry. He sighs softly, but his sister hears him anyway.
"Nervous?" she asks him, changing the music to a song she knows he likes. "You can always hang out with me and my friends for lunch if you want. They won't give you a hard time, I promise."
"I know that," he says gratefully. " I'll be all right."
Rosalie gives him a little smile and a squeeze of his hand. Looking at the trees passing by and listening to the music, finally small bits of his dream come floating back.
He's trying not to fall over the roots on the forest trail, while clinging to the huge, jacket clad back in front of him. He wonders where they're going, but it doesn't matter, he knows it will be somewhere magical—it always is. The long legs in front of him walk too fast for his own short ones, but he doesn't complain—he knows he's safe.
Blinking back wetness from his eyes, he squeezes Rosalie's hand back. "I'll be all right," he says again, more to himself than to her.
A/N: Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!
When I was a teenager I used to dye my hair black, then blue, red and every color possible. Have you tried dying your hair?