Ficlet: Nothing Changes
Apr. 10th, 2006 08:25 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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So here goes, my first attempt in this fandom. I really only wanted to write a drabble, but I just couldn't help myself lol! Still, only 225 words, but we've all got to start somewhere, right?
TITLE: Nothing Changes
AUTHOR:
m_l_h
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: Ryan/Colin
NOTE: Not mine, didn't happen etc
Nothing changes.
Staring into space, he knows this will be just another day, another dollar - isn’t that how the saying goes? He’s losing count of the years they’ve been like this; always together, listening intently to what the other has to say, playing beautifully off each other. Because that’s what it is, Ryan thinks, it’s a game, one that reached stalemate long ago. Both could make a move, but the risk is too great, the chances of success too slim. So they wait, playing out each episode, each day, like nothing is wrong.
The lights go up; the audience begins to cheer; he briefly wonders if he can really go through this again. But he knows he will. This stage, ironically, is where they can temporarily step outside the boundaries, where the rules of the game don’t apply. Despite an audience of strangers and friends, this is where they tempt fate. Here, the occasional glances don’t matter, the longing gazes don’t count and those rare kisses are just for show.
But it doesn’t last. The rulebook is quickly adopted once the lights are off and the audience is gone, and that nagging feeling, the pain sitting deep inside returns, and he asks himself why? Why replay the scene over and over, tormenting himself? He does it because he has to, so that nothing changes.
TITLE: Nothing Changes
AUTHOR:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: Ryan/Colin
NOTE: Not mine, didn't happen etc
Nothing changes.
Staring into space, he knows this will be just another day, another dollar - isn’t that how the saying goes? He’s losing count of the years they’ve been like this; always together, listening intently to what the other has to say, playing beautifully off each other. Because that’s what it is, Ryan thinks, it’s a game, one that reached stalemate long ago. Both could make a move, but the risk is too great, the chances of success too slim. So they wait, playing out each episode, each day, like nothing is wrong.
The lights go up; the audience begins to cheer; he briefly wonders if he can really go through this again. But he knows he will. This stage, ironically, is where they can temporarily step outside the boundaries, where the rules of the game don’t apply. Despite an audience of strangers and friends, this is where they tempt fate. Here, the occasional glances don’t matter, the longing gazes don’t count and those rare kisses are just for show.
But it doesn’t last. The rulebook is quickly adopted once the lights are off and the audience is gone, and that nagging feeling, the pain sitting deep inside returns, and he asks himself why? Why replay the scene over and over, tormenting himself? He does it because he has to, so that nothing changes.