Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ The Magic Beyond the Mirror ❯ 2.The Plot Doth Thicken ( Chapter 2 )

He leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss across her lips and the world bled away like water colors in the rain.

 

~o0o~

 

Backstage was a mass of iron-work pipes and scaffolding with lights clamped here and there. Ren pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't have a headache but this particular fan might just give him one. He was supposed to be doing an interview, but an over-zealous intern, who apparently loved their music, had cornered him backstage and was chattering on about...

 

Well, he wasn't quite sure. Ren thought it was supposed to be about a video they had done, but the young man just mentioned lemons and pink anteaters. Now, Ren was almost certain CSR had never done a video with anteaters, but telling a fan he's a crackpot isn't very nice either.

 

Still, his good mood was slow to vanish, fighting for every inch of ground it surrendered. Ren had slept surprisingly well, a pleasant dream tickling the edges of his mind though he couldn't remember it, and it left him feeling content and happy.

 

That was when someone decided to run up to Ren and practically drag him onto the set, he couldn't say he was disappointed with the timing.

 

His mood grew more and more somber as the interview questions struck closer and closer to nerves, but he was by nature an open person, and it didn't feel right that such innocent questions held such emotional weight behind them. Questions about his band mates families, and if he ever wanted one. Past relationships, and current ones.

 

He was struck by a mood to leave the weight of the past behind him, but what were interviews if not glimpses of someone else's past, told in their own words? He would have grumbled save but for the camera. He found himself wishing the woman holding the microphone would start asking about his past. He was more comfortable with the seedier moments of his past than he was contemplating his future loneliness.

 

~o0o~

 

“I said 'no,' Adam.” The young man made a disgusted sound as he threw himself back across Tara's mattress.

 

“This isn't gonna work you know.” He said as he sat up. “You're not gonna trick me into proposing just to get you to sleep with me”

 

Tara shot Adam a shocked look, she had never heard him say anything so utterly stupid.

 

“I am not!”

 

“Then what? Are you a virgin?”

 

Tara straightened her clothing and sat at her computer chair, swiveling gently in the chair.

 

“No.”

 

“Then what?”

 

“Look, sex isn't meaningless to me. I'm not a virgin and I'm not waiting for marriage. I just want there to be more between us.”

 

Adam shook his head, he didn't understand it, but if she had a reason he wouldn't push.

 

“Alright, babe, I'm sorry. I was just worried you spent too much time around those chicks that like screwing with guys for the hell of it.”

 

She shot him a sour look, but let the matter drop.

 

She was about to open her mouth to broach another subject when a thought hit her.

 

She 'dropped' entirely too much. Every time they had a verbal spat she ended up dropping her point, just to avoid further aggravation. When they had first gotten together everything was perfect. At least it had seemed perfect, but the more she thought the more holes she found.

 

When she had met Adam. That was a thought all on its own. Her last boyfriend, fiance in fact, had opted to bow out from the funeral and arrangements she'd had to fly home to take care of when her uncle had died. Then she had flown back and found him messing around with his best friend's sister in their bathroom. Without missing a beat she packed up her things, what little she had brought when he'd asked her to move in, took it down to her truck in two trips, and knocked on the bathroom door before announcing in a loud and clear voice that she was leaving and that they could have each other, as well as a few unflattering remarks about his character. He had screamed after her until her view of him faded of her rear view mirror. She had pawned the ring to pay for gas and lodging as she drove, the wind ripping her tears from her eyes almost as quickly as she could create them.

 

She had lost her uncle, her aunt, her cousin and then her love. And when she had turned around Adam was there. He was nice and funny, without the brainpower necessary to cook up infidelity. But there was a hairline crack between them. A minute rift that Tara had hoped wouldn't matter. And it might not have, if it had remained so small.

 

Tara was disappointed because the world lacked unicorns and dragons and magic, her imagination was more vast than any of the nearest star systems.

 

Adam's mind latched onto funny lines from prime time comedy cartoons and he repeated them like a parrot until he got a new one stuck in his head.

 

At a time when she had nothing and needed nothing but support they were perfect. But Tara had pulled her feet back under her, she was standing on her own again, and now she found she needed more. The hairline crack had become this gaping chasm between them, and into it she dumped every argument she dropped, every conversation she swallowed before it was finished because Adam 'didn't get it.' She didn't think the golden gate bridge would be able to span the void between them. It didn't feel right.

 

“Adam.”

 

The sorrow in her voice had his attention instantly. He sat up, looking concerned. Tara smiled sadly, of all the things she could fault him with, not caring was never on that list.

 

“I think,” her voice faltered, she took a breath and began again.

 

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't be everything you need.” She looked up at him quickly, to forestall any arguments, otherwise she might never get it said. “You're a normal guy, looking for a normal relationship. And it's not right, what I'm doing to you. I lost so much family, and then my ex, and now my parents are gone and I'm all alone on this damn continent. I regret not being what you need.” Tara felt her eyes fill with tears as she pushed the words out, “But all I want to do nowadays is sit and wallow in self-pity, be completely selfish and pretend the world should care. And I can't, I can't do that to you, Adam. I've got to end this now, before I completely destroy what we have.”

 

His jaw worked silently as he processed her words a letter a minute.

 

“I really care for you, Tara.”

 

“I care about you too, Adam. I just can't keep telling myself that I can be what you need tomorrow, always tomorrow. I keep putting it off, being a better person. I'm sorry.”

 

Adam grabbed his jacket as she thrust it at him and slowly made his way from the room in a daze, still unsure if he could reverse the last few minutes, not sure if he should, even more confused as to why his feet were still carrying him toward the door and out of Tara Robertson's life. When the door clicked softly shut behind him Tara closed her eyes, fat tears squeezing free from her lashes and cascading down her cheeks.

 

A few eternities passed before Tara heard Mickey clear her throat.

 

“How much of that was true, mija?”

 

Tara's eyes opened, a clear watery green.

 

“I'm not sure.

 

~o0o~

 

Once free of the interview, Ren Kieton bowed out of lunch with his band mate and hit the streets. As the show wore on he found he couldn't breathe. It was suffocating. It felt like everyone knew all of his weaknesses and sought to tear them wide open for minute inspection. He had felt like that a few times before, but always it passed. It was never like this before.

 

Since he had no other appointments he was free to spend the afternoon however he wished. And he wished to be alone. Not the emotional loneliness that shrouded him in a cloudy fog as the nights turned darker, he wished for the opposite feeling. Instead of feeling alone in a crowd, he wished to feel safe and secure and loved on a deserted island.

 

He just needed a bit of time and space to breathe.

 

~o0o~

 

She half ran down the stairs, not even bothering to remember her jacket. She needed to get out and away from everyone. Half of what she had said to Adam was pulled from nowhere, and had no basis in reality, but came from her desire to soften the blow. But a lot of it rang true, and rang throughout her body.

 

There was a park close to her apartment. And it seemed the perfect place to get lost. It was a large park, segmented for different sports, and then the back end left wild and free for those who just wished to sit among nature and find their own little world.

 

The sun was bright, the air was crisp, the trees were still fully clothed in their luxurious greens, but an autumnal chill was making sure no one could completely dismiss nature's touch. Even in the midst of the city of angels.

 

She strolled into the wild part of the park, passing the first few sets of strategically placed benches, wending her way further toward the overgrown flora which dominated the back of the park.

 

Tara's nose twitched in annoyance when she reached her favorite area of the public park. Some random man in a black hat, jacket and blue jeans was seated on her favorite bench, in front of a fragrant display of wild roses with their wild thorns. On second glance her annoyance faded slightly. The man had his face cradled in his hands, he obviously wasn't feeling his most chipper. Tara sympathized with his mood.

 

~o0o~

 

“You aren't alone, you know.” He stiffened as a woman's voice drifted into his hazy world. Her words sent a shiver up his spine. She couldn't possibly know those were the words he had been aching to hear. He glanced sideways and saw a skirt. A peasant skirt, to be exact. A gypsy skirt, he called them. Three different layers of material sewn together, the skirt itself having a deliberately rumpled look.

 

He tilted his head slightly and indicated the free space on the bench next to him. The girl sat gracefully, bringing more of herself into his line of vision, and repeated,

 

“You aren't alone. No matter how awful you feel, no matter how forsaken. You're never alone. If nothing else, there is always someone in this world who feels just as you do. And there's always someone who feels your pain, simply because it 'tis yours.”

 

The last phrase came out with a bit of an accent, and made him wonder where she was from.

 

“So what pain do you suffer from?” he asked in a hushed voice, his interest piqued.

 

“I hurt a young man, he tried his best and was not enough for me. I couldn't keep pretending, and I hurt him because of it.” She sighed wistfully and gazed out at the soft petals of the roses. “What of you, stranger?”

 

“I spent the afternoon pretending as well. I was as honest as I could be, I did not lie, but things were said to me that hurt. And I bottled it up until I could get away.”

 

“I'm not sure about you, but I feel a tiny bit better. 'A burden shared has its weight halved,' or something like that.” She said, smiling. He smiled slowly, the first since the gloom had descended upon him.

 

~o0o~

 

She paused, hearing hidden importance in the silence of his smile. His smile was wolfish, sexy and almost scary at the same time. As though he commonly looked at filet mignon and women the same way, as something to be devoured. Yet it was familiar.

 

Most of his face was hidden from her, between his hat and glasses she could see nothing above his nose. Yet she couldn't escape the feeling she knew him.

 

And his voice. His voice burrowed to the base of her brain stem and wrapped itself around her spinal cord. It was the kind of sound you remembered like a fond childhood memory even if you were too young to fully absorb it. Like a family member you had not seen since before you memorized your very first home address.

 

And yet she felt a bit anxious in his presence, like she did around every stranger. He was an enigma, and her bad mood evaporated like mist under the sun at the mystery he presented. She decided she did not wish to part company from her new friend until she understood what about him was so familiar and alien at once.

 

“Don't know about you, but I'm a bit cold. Wanna grab a coffee?” She stood as she spoke and extended a hand to the man.

 

He seemed to contemplate her outstretched hand for a heartbeat before lightly grasping her hand and rising. Neither seemed to want to relinquish the tenuous link between them as Tara led them out of the park and to the nearest coffee house.

 

He found them seats as she ordered. He chose a spot in the back, long shadows of late afternoon descending drenched the corner in mellow shadows neither oppressive nor comforting. And finally, when they settled, seated across from one another, a comfortable silence washed over them.

If either thought it strange neither said a word as they drank.

 

Tara realized her own comfort level solidified the moment she realized it didn't matter why he was familiar. He was a person she could like, and feel at ease with. Tara was one of those people who felt that one could never have enough friends, and she welcomed the idea of adding one more to her collection. Not to mention the vague feeling she had that she would figure him out eventually. She was in no hurry.

 

Little did she realize he was not near so serene.

 

~o0o~