Come What May-rewritten
Oct. 9th, 2004 01:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
axesladesince I watched Moulin Rouge, the muses insisted on rewriting the end of Come What May. so here's the start (I'm defintely going to be writing at least one more chapter). I edited some of eight, so that's also included.
Come What May, Chapter 8-We Have To End It
James pushed the chair back, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes and groaning as he tried to fight back the image of Mandy's naked body pressed against his, slick with hot water and persperation, and if his rapidly increasing talent was any indication, he wasn't suceeding.
He stood up, slowly, and walked out of the small room to the bathroom, slamming the door shut and turning on the shower. For a moment he thought of turning it ice cold, but thinking twice, realized he had to do something with this longing he felt. He undressed quickly, stepping into the shower and leaning his forehead against the tile. He tried to fight back the image of Mandy, tried to think of something else. Any one of the whores he'd been with in the past years, male and female, in an attempt to erase his love for her. But the thought of her just wouldn't leave him alone. Choking out a sob of true heartbreak, he grasped his talent, moving his hand along it and trying his hardest to pretend it was Mandy's hand, Mandy's body.
"Mandy...", he cried, slamming his free hand against the tile as the tears flowed down his face.
Half an hour later, James was laying in bed with the blankets pulled up to his chin, nursing the other bottle of wine. He glared at the typewriter and the pile of finished pages, feeling like they were mocking him. Teasing with the knowledge that things hadn't stayed beautiful. That soon he'd be straying back into the land of heartbreak and despair, a land he'd been living in for a decade and had only stepped out of for this past day.
But what else was he to do? Become a nearly-comatose drunk again? True, walking into the past had hurt more than he had ever thought possible. But it had also woken him up from his living death, made him look at the world again. Sighing, James threw the covers aside, pulled on his boxers and strode over to his desk.
*****
We pulled it off for an amazingly long time, nearly six months. Mandy would come up with little excuses to run out of the house, always coming a different way and in a different diguise. One time she even managed to spend the night with me.
Tragically, Brian's career started to go downhill. He and Curt were fighting, Mandy said, on a nearly daily basis. She was having to think of more and more outlandish excuses not to sleep with him. And then, one night when we were on the phone, everything fell apart.
We'd been talking for ten minutes. I remember the conversation perfectly, isn't it funny how you always remember the most traumatic things that happen, no matter how you try to forget?
"Hello?"
"Hi love, how're you holding up?"
"Awful. Brian's being a royal bitch, and Curt....lord knows where he is. He stormed off. The two of them had another fight in the studio, but I think this might've been this big one."
"Good."
"Maybe."
"When can you come again?"
"I don't know. Let's say tomorrow night, okay, seven?"
"All right."
"What do you want me to wear?"
"Mmm, that black dress, the lace one."
"All right."
"Love you darling."
"Love you...oh god..."
"What?"
She was quiet for a long time. I thought maybe the phone had gone dead. Then, I heard her whisper in the most fear-filled voice I've ever heard,
"He's here."
"What?"
"He's here, in the-", I heard a crash, then Brian's voice,
"You bitch. I've given you everything you've ever wanted, and you repay me like this!?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't give me that shite, Mandy", the sound of flesh on flesh, I knew he'd struck her,
"I heard everything!"
I knew that she was crying, heard a muffled sound near the phone and figured she was trying to hang it up,
"It's nothing Brian...just an infatuation."
And then the line went dead.
I stayed up all that night, worrying about her. What had that bastard done to her after she hung up? For all I knew, he could have killed her.
I didn't expect her the next night, who would have in my place? I was laying on the sofa, figuring out how I could kill Brian and make it look like suicide, when I heard her familiar knock. For a moment, I thought the lack of sleep was making me hallucinate. But then I heard it again and bolted upright, running to the door, throwing it open and wrapping my arm around her before I even looked at her face.
I was kissing her all over, knowing from the way she felt in my arms that she was upset. Then I pulled away and took a good look at her. She was wearing the dress I'd asked her to, a black lace number that just barely kept her flesh concealed. But then I noticed she was also wearing a long black overcoat and was pulling it tight around her body. She looked at me after I pulled away, the corners of her mouth twitching up every now and again as if she couldn't remember how to smile,
"You heard it all last night, didn't you?"
"Until you hung up. But that's not important, love. He's not important. Come on, I'll draw the bath and-"
"We have to end it."
I stepped back, looking at her like she'd just punched me in the stomach. Grabbing her hands, I pulled her to the couch and sat pressing my palm against the side of her face,
"Darling, no. There has to be another way. We can leave London, we can-"
"No James. It's over. Brian talked to me last night, sat me down and we got everything settled. We're getting counseling so he can get over Curt and we can fix up our marriage, we'll leave the spotlight, live off his royalties in some little cottage in the country. I saw that this...what we had...it was just a silly infatuation. Lust, not love."
I started crying then, gripping her shoulders and leaning my head against hers,
"No, no, Mandy please...please don't..."
"I'm sorry James," she started to stand to go to the door. I grabbed her arm, pulling her back to me. She fought her way to the door, but I stood up, pressing her against the wall and digging my nails into her arm,
"Tell me the truth, Mandy."
"The truth is...I am a rockstar's wife, and", she put on a face as cold as stone,
"And come what may, I will always be the rockstar's wife."
I sobbed, grabbing her before she could walk all the way out the door,
"Mandy, Mandy please..."
"I'm sorry James, I have to go now", she tore away, speeding out the door to a taxi. I ran to the sidewalk, screaming her name as the car faded into the distance. I fell down on the sidewalk, sobbing as it began to rain. I don't know how long I was out there, or how I got inside. All I remember is waking up what must've been the next morning with my left hand clenched. I opened it, finding that I had crushed a photograph of Mandy, laying asleep in my bed. I was so bitter, I didn't even give a second thought to picking up a lighter she'd given me and burning the vile thing to ashes.
AN:.So my muses insisted on changing it, after finally admitting to themselves this chapter was rushed (and after watching Moulin Rouge so they had inspiration). *sigh* so I, their poor scribe, must put down their changes. Meaning I shall end up tacking on another chapter or two, blegh. .
Come What May, Chapter 9-Ridiculous Obsession
James stared at the page in the typewriter, ripped it out and thought about tearing it to shreds. Instead, he tossed it on the pile and stood up, looking around the room where almost everything reminded him of her. The roses, the pictures, the books, the pages and pages of songs written just for her. Their entire affair, summed up in a few items and now a stack of pages. How could there be so little to touch when in his heart there was such a large hole?
Forcing himself not to cry again, James took his coat from the hook and walked out into the night.
*****
The place was, quite honestly, a total dive. You could tell that much by the outside. I would have passed it by entirely if it hadn't been for the sign, almost hidden in the dark of the night, with the words 'Divine Miss Mandy Slade'. And even then, had it not been for what I'd just finished, I probably would have kept walking. But as it was, I walked in.
There weren't that many people around, probably just ones who couldn't afford to get drunk anywhere else. I sat at a table in the corner, where I could see the stage without the risk of being seen. The first act was god awful, but then she walked out.
I was stunned when I saw her. For years my mental image of what she would be like had changed from withered and brittle in the moments I hated her most, to eternally young when I fell for her again. But this...she wasn't either, or even a happy medium. Her hair was longer now, though still blonde. She wasn't wearing any makeup, at least none that I could tell. Her clothes were fairly plain, a long black skirt and red blouse. She had lines on her face, making her look almost her age. But even if I'd just bumped into on the street, I would have recognized her. Mandy. My Mandy.
She coughed into the microphone, brushing her hair back and laughing softly, her voice no longer the false British accent I was so used to, but a cultured American one,
"Well uh, hello there everyone. The song I'm doing tonight is one that was written for me, by a very special man. You might've heard of him, if you're old enough. He made a splash in the music biz after we split, Safilix Shark?", there were a few whistles, while I just stared blankly, and she smiled,
"Yeah, well, then I'm sure you heard this one", she turned to the man sitting at the piano, nodding. The lights went down a bit and she started to sing.
Fed up with my destiny
And this place of no return
I think I'll take another day
And slowly watch it burn.
She closed her eyes, darting her tongue out to catch a teardrop that fell down her face,
Doesn't really matter
How the time goes by
Cause I still remember you and I
And that beautiful goodbye...
As she continued singing, my amazement grew to awe. I knew she wasn't just doing this to pay the rent. She was really feeling the words. I closed my eyes, letting myself be drawn back to a simpler time and place, when love had been real, if only for a little while.
Staggered through these empty streets
Laughin' arm in arm
The night had made a mess of me
Your confessions kept me warm
I winced at the anger she put into the next lines, seeing that despite the jovial facade she was putting on for all these drunks, she was still wounded from what had happened to her.
I don't really miss you, I just need to know
Do you ever think of you and I
And that beautiful goodbye?
When I see you now,
I wonder how,
I could've watched you walk away.
If I let you down,
Please forgive me now
For that beautiful goodbye...
I found myself unbelievably glad when the song had ended. By the last verse, she was laying on the ground, sobbing into the microphone. But once the music faded out, she stood up with a bright smile on her face as the audience whistled and clapped,
"Oh my gosh...my geesh. You all really liked it?", these words were met with even louder applause. She laughed, wiping her eyes,
"Wow, thanks. Well, it looks like they're just about ready to get out the hook and pull me off, so I'll see you all after our main act gets finished, hmm?", she smiled and walked off.
I told myself I'd sit through the next act, wait for her to come on again, but the next girl was so bloody awful I couldn't. Well that's not quite true. The bird was all right, but I was too impatient. After ten years, I couldn't bear the thought of waiting any longer to see her.
I stood up and walked back behind the stage, since the dump didn't even have bouncers keeping people away. It took a bit, but after half an hour or so I found her dressing room. It wasn't much better than a closet with her name on the door, I could tell that before I even went in. I knocked and after a few seconds a woman in her mid fifties answered the door.
"Who is it Marie?", I heard Mandy's voice ring out. I looked around Marie and saw her undressing in front of a beat-up vanity.
"No idea doll, though he does look familiar."
Mandy whipped her head around and blinked as she saw me. She swallowed and walked over to me,
"You shouldn't be here."
"And why not? I'm just here to get my royalties."
She shook her head, walking over to a small dresser and pulling out a corset, slipping into it and presenting her back to Marie
"Whatever are you talking about?"
"That song you sang, it's mine isn't it?"
"So?", she gasped softly as Marie tightened the laces.
"Well, it's not public domain."
"Fine, I'll send you a check, just go!"
"And why should I?"
"Because-", she gasped, but this time it wasn't because of the corset. When I realized this, I turned around and saw a man with gaudy yellow hair in a blue suit. I immediately recognized him as Tommy Stone, who wouldn't? But what the hell was he doing here?
"What is he doing here?", Tommy snarled, directing his words to Mandy. She stuttered, rapidly blinking,
"I-I didn't know he was...he just showed up, Tommy I swear..."
I looked back and forth at them, then grabbed Mandy's hand,
"What's going on here Mand?"
"Please James, just go...."
"Didn't you tell him what would happen if he came near you again?"
"No...I thought...I thought that..."
"You should have known how dense he is, Mand."
I realized, then, who it was behind all that disgusting makeup and the starchy clothes,
"Brian..."
He grinned evilly,
"Well aren't you a genius."
"What are you still doing with him?"
Mandy looked away from me, picking up a tube of lipstick and twisting the coloured cylinder up and down. I suddenly understood. She hadn't stayed with Brian because she was scared of him, but because she needed him for money. I adjusted the collar of my coat, trying to appear cool and collected when inside I was tearing my hair out and sobbing,
"Oh, I see. So you are no better than a streetwhore."
"James-"
"No Mandy, don't try to talk yourself out of it by saying he made you. I know you could be fiercely independent if you wanted to, but you didn't want to give up a life of security, if you call this", I waved my hands around, gesturing to the dingy dressing room,
"Security", I put my hand in my pocket and threw a few hundred dollar bills at her, glancing at Brian,
"This woman is yours now, all of her, even her wretched heart. I've paid my whore", I sneered at her, mocking her tense face and tear filled eyes, even though I wanted nothing more than to hold and kiss her,
"I owe you nothing, and you are nothing to me. Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love", and as I walked out, I heard a small crash and a heartbroken sob. I swallowed my own tears and walked back to the bar.
Come What May, Chapter 8-We Have To End It
James pushed the chair back, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes and groaning as he tried to fight back the image of Mandy's naked body pressed against his, slick with hot water and persperation, and if his rapidly increasing talent was any indication, he wasn't suceeding.
He stood up, slowly, and walked out of the small room to the bathroom, slamming the door shut and turning on the shower. For a moment he thought of turning it ice cold, but thinking twice, realized he had to do something with this longing he felt. He undressed quickly, stepping into the shower and leaning his forehead against the tile. He tried to fight back the image of Mandy, tried to think of something else. Any one of the whores he'd been with in the past years, male and female, in an attempt to erase his love for her. But the thought of her just wouldn't leave him alone. Choking out a sob of true heartbreak, he grasped his talent, moving his hand along it and trying his hardest to pretend it was Mandy's hand, Mandy's body.
"Mandy...", he cried, slamming his free hand against the tile as the tears flowed down his face.
Half an hour later, James was laying in bed with the blankets pulled up to his chin, nursing the other bottle of wine. He glared at the typewriter and the pile of finished pages, feeling like they were mocking him. Teasing with the knowledge that things hadn't stayed beautiful. That soon he'd be straying back into the land of heartbreak and despair, a land he'd been living in for a decade and had only stepped out of for this past day.
But what else was he to do? Become a nearly-comatose drunk again? True, walking into the past had hurt more than he had ever thought possible. But it had also woken him up from his living death, made him look at the world again. Sighing, James threw the covers aside, pulled on his boxers and strode over to his desk.
*****
We pulled it off for an amazingly long time, nearly six months. Mandy would come up with little excuses to run out of the house, always coming a different way and in a different diguise. One time she even managed to spend the night with me.
Tragically, Brian's career started to go downhill. He and Curt were fighting, Mandy said, on a nearly daily basis. She was having to think of more and more outlandish excuses not to sleep with him. And then, one night when we were on the phone, everything fell apart.
We'd been talking for ten minutes. I remember the conversation perfectly, isn't it funny how you always remember the most traumatic things that happen, no matter how you try to forget?
"Hello?"
"Hi love, how're you holding up?"
"Awful. Brian's being a royal bitch, and Curt....lord knows where he is. He stormed off. The two of them had another fight in the studio, but I think this might've been this big one."
"Good."
"Maybe."
"When can you come again?"
"I don't know. Let's say tomorrow night, okay, seven?"
"All right."
"What do you want me to wear?"
"Mmm, that black dress, the lace one."
"All right."
"Love you darling."
"Love you...oh god..."
"What?"
She was quiet for a long time. I thought maybe the phone had gone dead. Then, I heard her whisper in the most fear-filled voice I've ever heard,
"He's here."
"What?"
"He's here, in the-", I heard a crash, then Brian's voice,
"You bitch. I've given you everything you've ever wanted, and you repay me like this!?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't give me that shite, Mandy", the sound of flesh on flesh, I knew he'd struck her,
"I heard everything!"
I knew that she was crying, heard a muffled sound near the phone and figured she was trying to hang it up,
"It's nothing Brian...just an infatuation."
And then the line went dead.
I stayed up all that night, worrying about her. What had that bastard done to her after she hung up? For all I knew, he could have killed her.
I didn't expect her the next night, who would have in my place? I was laying on the sofa, figuring out how I could kill Brian and make it look like suicide, when I heard her familiar knock. For a moment, I thought the lack of sleep was making me hallucinate. But then I heard it again and bolted upright, running to the door, throwing it open and wrapping my arm around her before I even looked at her face.
I was kissing her all over, knowing from the way she felt in my arms that she was upset. Then I pulled away and took a good look at her. She was wearing the dress I'd asked her to, a black lace number that just barely kept her flesh concealed. But then I noticed she was also wearing a long black overcoat and was pulling it tight around her body. She looked at me after I pulled away, the corners of her mouth twitching up every now and again as if she couldn't remember how to smile,
"You heard it all last night, didn't you?"
"Until you hung up. But that's not important, love. He's not important. Come on, I'll draw the bath and-"
"We have to end it."
I stepped back, looking at her like she'd just punched me in the stomach. Grabbing her hands, I pulled her to the couch and sat pressing my palm against the side of her face,
"Darling, no. There has to be another way. We can leave London, we can-"
"No James. It's over. Brian talked to me last night, sat me down and we got everything settled. We're getting counseling so he can get over Curt and we can fix up our marriage, we'll leave the spotlight, live off his royalties in some little cottage in the country. I saw that this...what we had...it was just a silly infatuation. Lust, not love."
I started crying then, gripping her shoulders and leaning my head against hers,
"No, no, Mandy please...please don't..."
"I'm sorry James," she started to stand to go to the door. I grabbed her arm, pulling her back to me. She fought her way to the door, but I stood up, pressing her against the wall and digging my nails into her arm,
"Tell me the truth, Mandy."
"The truth is...I am a rockstar's wife, and", she put on a face as cold as stone,
"And come what may, I will always be the rockstar's wife."
I sobbed, grabbing her before she could walk all the way out the door,
"Mandy, Mandy please..."
"I'm sorry James, I have to go now", she tore away, speeding out the door to a taxi. I ran to the sidewalk, screaming her name as the car faded into the distance. I fell down on the sidewalk, sobbing as it began to rain. I don't know how long I was out there, or how I got inside. All I remember is waking up what must've been the next morning with my left hand clenched. I opened it, finding that I had crushed a photograph of Mandy, laying asleep in my bed. I was so bitter, I didn't even give a second thought to picking up a lighter she'd given me and burning the vile thing to ashes.
AN:.So my muses insisted on changing it, after finally admitting to themselves this chapter was rushed (and after watching Moulin Rouge so they had inspiration). *sigh* so I, their poor scribe, must put down their changes. Meaning I shall end up tacking on another chapter or two, blegh. .
Come What May, Chapter 9-Ridiculous Obsession
James stared at the page in the typewriter, ripped it out and thought about tearing it to shreds. Instead, he tossed it on the pile and stood up, looking around the room where almost everything reminded him of her. The roses, the pictures, the books, the pages and pages of songs written just for her. Their entire affair, summed up in a few items and now a stack of pages. How could there be so little to touch when in his heart there was such a large hole?
Forcing himself not to cry again, James took his coat from the hook and walked out into the night.
*****
The place was, quite honestly, a total dive. You could tell that much by the outside. I would have passed it by entirely if it hadn't been for the sign, almost hidden in the dark of the night, with the words 'Divine Miss Mandy Slade'. And even then, had it not been for what I'd just finished, I probably would have kept walking. But as it was, I walked in.
There weren't that many people around, probably just ones who couldn't afford to get drunk anywhere else. I sat at a table in the corner, where I could see the stage without the risk of being seen. The first act was god awful, but then she walked out.
I was stunned when I saw her. For years my mental image of what she would be like had changed from withered and brittle in the moments I hated her most, to eternally young when I fell for her again. But this...she wasn't either, or even a happy medium. Her hair was longer now, though still blonde. She wasn't wearing any makeup, at least none that I could tell. Her clothes were fairly plain, a long black skirt and red blouse. She had lines on her face, making her look almost her age. But even if I'd just bumped into on the street, I would have recognized her. Mandy. My Mandy.
She coughed into the microphone, brushing her hair back and laughing softly, her voice no longer the false British accent I was so used to, but a cultured American one,
"Well uh, hello there everyone. The song I'm doing tonight is one that was written for me, by a very special man. You might've heard of him, if you're old enough. He made a splash in the music biz after we split, Safilix Shark?", there were a few whistles, while I just stared blankly, and she smiled,
"Yeah, well, then I'm sure you heard this one", she turned to the man sitting at the piano, nodding. The lights went down a bit and she started to sing.
Fed up with my destiny
And this place of no return
I think I'll take another day
And slowly watch it burn.
She closed her eyes, darting her tongue out to catch a teardrop that fell down her face,
Doesn't really matter
How the time goes by
Cause I still remember you and I
And that beautiful goodbye...
As she continued singing, my amazement grew to awe. I knew she wasn't just doing this to pay the rent. She was really feeling the words. I closed my eyes, letting myself be drawn back to a simpler time and place, when love had been real, if only for a little while.
Staggered through these empty streets
Laughin' arm in arm
The night had made a mess of me
Your confessions kept me warm
I winced at the anger she put into the next lines, seeing that despite the jovial facade she was putting on for all these drunks, she was still wounded from what had happened to her.
I don't really miss you, I just need to know
Do you ever think of you and I
And that beautiful goodbye?
When I see you now,
I wonder how,
I could've watched you walk away.
If I let you down,
Please forgive me now
For that beautiful goodbye...
I found myself unbelievably glad when the song had ended. By the last verse, she was laying on the ground, sobbing into the microphone. But once the music faded out, she stood up with a bright smile on her face as the audience whistled and clapped,
"Oh my gosh...my geesh. You all really liked it?", these words were met with even louder applause. She laughed, wiping her eyes,
"Wow, thanks. Well, it looks like they're just about ready to get out the hook and pull me off, so I'll see you all after our main act gets finished, hmm?", she smiled and walked off.
I told myself I'd sit through the next act, wait for her to come on again, but the next girl was so bloody awful I couldn't. Well that's not quite true. The bird was all right, but I was too impatient. After ten years, I couldn't bear the thought of waiting any longer to see her.
I stood up and walked back behind the stage, since the dump didn't even have bouncers keeping people away. It took a bit, but after half an hour or so I found her dressing room. It wasn't much better than a closet with her name on the door, I could tell that before I even went in. I knocked and after a few seconds a woman in her mid fifties answered the door.
"Who is it Marie?", I heard Mandy's voice ring out. I looked around Marie and saw her undressing in front of a beat-up vanity.
"No idea doll, though he does look familiar."
Mandy whipped her head around and blinked as she saw me. She swallowed and walked over to me,
"You shouldn't be here."
"And why not? I'm just here to get my royalties."
She shook her head, walking over to a small dresser and pulling out a corset, slipping into it and presenting her back to Marie
"Whatever are you talking about?"
"That song you sang, it's mine isn't it?"
"So?", she gasped softly as Marie tightened the laces.
"Well, it's not public domain."
"Fine, I'll send you a check, just go!"
"And why should I?"
"Because-", she gasped, but this time it wasn't because of the corset. When I realized this, I turned around and saw a man with gaudy yellow hair in a blue suit. I immediately recognized him as Tommy Stone, who wouldn't? But what the hell was he doing here?
"What is he doing here?", Tommy snarled, directing his words to Mandy. She stuttered, rapidly blinking,
"I-I didn't know he was...he just showed up, Tommy I swear..."
I looked back and forth at them, then grabbed Mandy's hand,
"What's going on here Mand?"
"Please James, just go...."
"Didn't you tell him what would happen if he came near you again?"
"No...I thought...I thought that..."
"You should have known how dense he is, Mand."
I realized, then, who it was behind all that disgusting makeup and the starchy clothes,
"Brian..."
He grinned evilly,
"Well aren't you a genius."
"What are you still doing with him?"
Mandy looked away from me, picking up a tube of lipstick and twisting the coloured cylinder up and down. I suddenly understood. She hadn't stayed with Brian because she was scared of him, but because she needed him for money. I adjusted the collar of my coat, trying to appear cool and collected when inside I was tearing my hair out and sobbing,
"Oh, I see. So you are no better than a streetwhore."
"James-"
"No Mandy, don't try to talk yourself out of it by saying he made you. I know you could be fiercely independent if you wanted to, but you didn't want to give up a life of security, if you call this", I waved my hands around, gesturing to the dingy dressing room,
"Security", I put my hand in my pocket and threw a few hundred dollar bills at her, glancing at Brian,
"This woman is yours now, all of her, even her wretched heart. I've paid my whore", I sneered at her, mocking her tense face and tear filled eyes, even though I wanted nothing more than to hold and kiss her,
"I owe you nothing, and you are nothing to me. Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love", and as I walked out, I heard a small crash and a heartbroken sob. I swallowed my own tears and walked back to the bar.
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no subject
on 2004-10-09 08:47 pm (UTC)