[FIC] Ever After (Chapter 8/11)
Nov. 26th, 2012 05:54 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
ocelotkitty.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
wl_fanfictionTitle: Ever After
Main Pairing: Jeff/Greg, with background Chip/Wayne and Colin/Ryan
Rating: R for language
Total Word Count: 17,890
Chapter Word Count: 1,609
Summary: Jeff’s a directionally challenged actor who can’t seem to catch a break. Chip promises that Jeff’s new GPS will be the solution to all of his problems, but why does it seem to cause more problems than it solves? Will Chip turn out to be right in the end? (Spoiler alert: of course he will. This is, after all, a fairy tale.)
Special Thanks: to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sungreen70 for patiently (lol) championing this story from its humble beginnings in 2009, subtly (lol) suggesting I finish it while recovering at home from surgery, and going above and beyond as a beta reader despite all the other demands — including Hurricane Sandy and a presidential election! — on her time. You are amazing! ♥
Drew clapped his hands. “Okay, this’ll be the last run-through before we start filming next week, so let’s make it a good one! Ryan? Colin?” Drew scanned the stage, making eye contact with the two leads. Ryan and Colin nodded — not simultaneously, but in a syncopated, almost deliberate rhythm that fooled many people into thinking their closeness was an act. Jeff watched them from the wings. He knew better. He knew that two people couldn’t simply don that kind of connection like a jacket, to be casually shrugged off later when the scene no longer required it.
“Hey, what’re you doin’, desertin’ me?” Drew was saying, in character now.
“Well, you can’t follow the leader all your life, can you?” Ryan said philosophically. “Oh, come on, man,” Ryan said when he noticed Drew’s crestfallen expression. “You know you mean a lot to me! It’s just that Colin does, too, and I’m going to do anything I can to get him.”
Jeff sighed. He envied Ryan’s relationship with Colin, but he envied that drive, that determination, even more.
Colin sauntered casually onto the stage, clad in a form-fitting blue sweater that emphasized his muscular chest.
Ryan did a double-take. “Colin?!”
Colin casually removed the cigarette from between his lips and gave Ryan bedroom eyes. “Tell me about it... stud.”
As Colin and Ryan slid into their duet, Jeff’s thoughts strayed — as they often had in the week since his near-miss on the Hollywood freeway — to Greg. Until that moment, the mistakes in Jeff’s life had always been temporary, fixable, easily reversible. The haunting image of the GPS’s blank screen with its hairline crack, now seared indelibly into his brain, told him that some mistakes were forever.
Chip came running across the stage, and Jeff realized that his cue was coming up. Suddenly Wayne was beside him, looping an arm around his neck. As they moved together onto the stage, Jeff could hear Chip calling out to the others. “Hey, everybody! Jeff and Wayne made up!”
“All right!” Drew shouted.
“Oh, look,” Chip squealed, catching sight of Jeff and Wayne sharing a kiss. “All the gang’s together!” He sighed contentedly.
“Well, what’re we going to do after the show’s over?” Wayne said, coming up for air.
“Yeah,” Jeff said. “Maybe we’ll never see each other again!”
“Nah, that’ll never happen,” Ryan said confidently, his arm slung lazily across Colin’s shoulders.
Colin looked up at Ryan shyly. “How do you know?”
“What do you mean, how do I know?” Ryan paused. “I just do,” he said, his voice husky as he gazed down at Colin. “I know we’ll always be together.”
* * *
The final musical number was over, and the cast chatted animatedly among themselves as they milled around on stage. Everyone except Jeff, that is, who — consummate professional that he was — had stayed in character until the moment the director had yelled cut, then fled. Now, sitting behind a stack of props with his knees drawn up to his chest, he sobbed. He cried with relief at having come through this difficult week alone, but intact; he cried at what had become of his friendship with Wayne, their interactions now reduced to scripted dialogue initiated at a director’s behest. He cried for himself, for his blindness and abject stupidity, for all that he’d lost and all that he’d never have. But most of all, he cried for the fact that Greg no longer existed; he cried for the fact that really, he never had.
“Hey, man, are you all right?”
Jeff looked up to see Chip’s concerned face peering down at his tear-stained one. “Yes,” he lied. When he saw the look of skepticism on Chip’s face, he amended it to, “Not really.”
“I know we haven’t had the chance to talk much these last few weeks,” Chip said softly, squatting down next to Jeff. “But if you want to tell me what’s going on, I’ll listen.”
Jeff wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “I don’t even know if I could,” he said, and it was the truth. He didn’t like Chip seeing him upset, but he vastly preferred it to Chip thinking he’d lost his grip on reality. “The last week’s been pretty intense, you know,” Jeff said, choosing to lay the blame for his mood on the pace of the rehearsal schedule. “I guess it just got to be too much, and by the time it was all over today I was overdue for some alone time.”
Chip nodded, although Jeff could tell he couldn’t relate. Chip needed the energy of other people to feed his own. It was as vital to him as solitude was to Jeff. “Did you want to go grab a drink?” Chip asked, getting to his feet.
“Look, I should probably just head home.” Seeing the disappointment cloud Chip’s face, Jeff tried to lighten the mood. “I mean, I do have an awful lot of lollipops to get through.”
Chip feigned puzzlement. “Lollipops? Why, Jeffrey, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Snagglepuss, ’fess up.”
Chip grinned. “All the more reason you should buy me a drink. That candy cost me a fortune.”
Jeff thought about it for a moment. “Okay,” he said finally, grabbing Chip’s outstretched hand and allowing himself to be pulled into a standing position.
The two men walked companionably into the lobby of the theatre. “So I just looked at him and said, ‘You seriously want me in a Nine Inch Nails t-shirt and an armful of black plastic bracelets for the carnival scene?’” Chip shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t know who hired the wardrobe assistants for this,” he continued, pushing the heavy door open and squinting into the late-afternoon sunshine. “I mean, there’s never been anyone on the show who dressed remotely like th—”
“Hey, Chip! Over here!”
Chip broke off to wave back at Wayne, who was leaning casually against Chip’s Cherokee. “Coming!” he called. In a low voice he said to Jeff, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“It’ll be fine. Hasn’t it been fine all week?”
“Just looking out for you,” Chip said softly.
“Really, I’m okay,” Jeff said, giving Chip a quick one-armed hug in gratitude. And suddenly he was, sort of. When Chip was around, it was impossible not to be.
“It’s good to see you, Jeff,” Wayne said as the two approached him, speaking to Jeff off-script for the first time in a week.
“It’s good to see you, too,” Jeff said automatically, before he realized it was the truth. He’d missed them both during his self-imposed hiatus. They really do make a good pair, Jeff thought wistfully. Wayne’s quiet warmth had a leavening effect on Chip’s natural exuberance, and he knew that Chip’s down-to-earth nature would keep Wayne’s ego in check.
“So where are we going?” Wayne said, looking quizzically at Chip.
Chip’s eyes darted back and forth while he chewed on his bottom lip. Jeff recognized it as what he privately called Chip’s “Hey, I know!” face, since it inevitably signaled that Chip was about to propose an idea he knew no one else would like. Chip did not disappoint. “Hey, I know!” he said, shooting a quick glare at Jeff when he caught him mouthing those three words along with him. “How about we go to La Cantina de Pescado at the aquarium?”
Jeff groaned. “Oh, come on, Chip! Didn’t you read that post on LAmag.com a few weeks ago?”
Chip’s face was the picture of confusion. “What post?”
“The one you’re as dumb as,” Wayne grumbled good-naturedly, prompting Chip to give him a mock punch on the arm. Wayne ruffled Chip’s hair in return, and Chip poked him in the stomach.
“Come on, you guys,” Jeff said, feeling awkward and out of place.
Chip and Wayne stopped their tussle. “Sorry.”
“Never mind about that,” Jeff said quickly. “I was just going to say that I’ve read about that bar and it sounds awful, Chip. Why can’t we just go someplace normal? Plus, isn’t the aquarium all the way down in Long Beach?”
“I don’t think it’s actually at the aquarium,” Wayne said. “It’s just supposed to look like one inside. All the drinks are named after different marine species. Like there’s a Cai-piranha—” Jeff made a face. “Yeah, I know,” Wayne said, chuckling. “There’s also a Harvey Walleye-banger, and a Stingray Sling.”
“Is that like a Singapore Sling?” Jeff asked, interested despite himself. He liked retro drinks.
“Yeah. Except they serve it on a flat plate that has two googly eyes stuck to it.”
Jeff shuddered. “Christ, Chip, why on earth would you want to drag us to a place like that?”
“Because I like fish,” Chip said defensively, his buoyant mood refusing to be dampened. “And it sounded like fun, even if it is kind of far away.”
“It’s not that far away,” Wayne corrected him. “I just said, it’s not actually at the Long Beach aquarium. I’m pretty sure it’s in Redondo Beach.”
Jeff eyed Wayne suspiciously. “You sound like you’re on his side about this.”
Wayne looked guilty. “It doesn’t really sound that bad,” he conceded. “And if it makes Chip happy....”
Chip ducked his head. If there’d been a pile of dirt on the sidewalk, he would’ve scuffed his toe in it and said, “Aww, shucks.”
“But it’s a moot point anyway,” Wayne continued, as Chip’s smile faded. “None of us knows exactly where it is. And we can’t even find the place, because Chip doesn’t have a GPS in his car.”
The grin returned to Chip’s face. “No, but I know someone who does.”
Main Pairing: Jeff/Greg, with background Chip/Wayne and Colin/Ryan
Rating: R for language
Total Word Count: 17,890
Chapter Word Count: 1,609
Summary: Jeff’s a directionally challenged actor who can’t seem to catch a break. Chip promises that Jeff’s new GPS will be the solution to all of his problems, but why does it seem to cause more problems than it solves? Will Chip turn out to be right in the end? (Spoiler alert: of course he will. This is, after all, a fairy tale.)
Special Thanks: to
sungreen70 for patiently (lol) championing this story from its humble beginnings in 2009, subtly (lol) suggesting I finish it while recovering at home from surgery, and going above and beyond as a beta reader despite all the other demands — including Hurricane Sandy and a presidential election! — on her time. You are amazing! ♥Drew clapped his hands. “Okay, this’ll be the last run-through before we start filming next week, so let’s make it a good one! Ryan? Colin?” Drew scanned the stage, making eye contact with the two leads. Ryan and Colin nodded — not simultaneously, but in a syncopated, almost deliberate rhythm that fooled many people into thinking their closeness was an act. Jeff watched them from the wings. He knew better. He knew that two people couldn’t simply don that kind of connection like a jacket, to be casually shrugged off later when the scene no longer required it.
“Hey, what’re you doin’, desertin’ me?” Drew was saying, in character now.
“Well, you can’t follow the leader all your life, can you?” Ryan said philosophically. “Oh, come on, man,” Ryan said when he noticed Drew’s crestfallen expression. “You know you mean a lot to me! It’s just that Colin does, too, and I’m going to do anything I can to get him.”
Jeff sighed. He envied Ryan’s relationship with Colin, but he envied that drive, that determination, even more.
Colin sauntered casually onto the stage, clad in a form-fitting blue sweater that emphasized his muscular chest.
Ryan did a double-take. “Colin?!”
Colin casually removed the cigarette from between his lips and gave Ryan bedroom eyes. “Tell me about it... stud.”
As Colin and Ryan slid into their duet, Jeff’s thoughts strayed — as they often had in the week since his near-miss on the Hollywood freeway — to Greg. Until that moment, the mistakes in Jeff’s life had always been temporary, fixable, easily reversible. The haunting image of the GPS’s blank screen with its hairline crack, now seared indelibly into his brain, told him that some mistakes were forever.
Chip came running across the stage, and Jeff realized that his cue was coming up. Suddenly Wayne was beside him, looping an arm around his neck. As they moved together onto the stage, Jeff could hear Chip calling out to the others. “Hey, everybody! Jeff and Wayne made up!”
“All right!” Drew shouted.
“Oh, look,” Chip squealed, catching sight of Jeff and Wayne sharing a kiss. “All the gang’s together!” He sighed contentedly.
“Well, what’re we going to do after the show’s over?” Wayne said, coming up for air.
“Yeah,” Jeff said. “Maybe we’ll never see each other again!”
“Nah, that’ll never happen,” Ryan said confidently, his arm slung lazily across Colin’s shoulders.
Colin looked up at Ryan shyly. “How do you know?”
“What do you mean, how do I know?” Ryan paused. “I just do,” he said, his voice husky as he gazed down at Colin. “I know we’ll always be together.”
The final musical number was over, and the cast chatted animatedly among themselves as they milled around on stage. Everyone except Jeff, that is, who — consummate professional that he was — had stayed in character until the moment the director had yelled cut, then fled. Now, sitting behind a stack of props with his knees drawn up to his chest, he sobbed. He cried with relief at having come through this difficult week alone, but intact; he cried at what had become of his friendship with Wayne, their interactions now reduced to scripted dialogue initiated at a director’s behest. He cried for himself, for his blindness and abject stupidity, for all that he’d lost and all that he’d never have. But most of all, he cried for the fact that Greg no longer existed; he cried for the fact that really, he never had.
“Hey, man, are you all right?”
Jeff looked up to see Chip’s concerned face peering down at his tear-stained one. “Yes,” he lied. When he saw the look of skepticism on Chip’s face, he amended it to, “Not really.”
“I know we haven’t had the chance to talk much these last few weeks,” Chip said softly, squatting down next to Jeff. “But if you want to tell me what’s going on, I’ll listen.”
Jeff wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “I don’t even know if I could,” he said, and it was the truth. He didn’t like Chip seeing him upset, but he vastly preferred it to Chip thinking he’d lost his grip on reality. “The last week’s been pretty intense, you know,” Jeff said, choosing to lay the blame for his mood on the pace of the rehearsal schedule. “I guess it just got to be too much, and by the time it was all over today I was overdue for some alone time.”
Chip nodded, although Jeff could tell he couldn’t relate. Chip needed the energy of other people to feed his own. It was as vital to him as solitude was to Jeff. “Did you want to go grab a drink?” Chip asked, getting to his feet.
“Look, I should probably just head home.” Seeing the disappointment cloud Chip’s face, Jeff tried to lighten the mood. “I mean, I do have an awful lot of lollipops to get through.”
Chip feigned puzzlement. “Lollipops? Why, Jeffrey, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Snagglepuss, ’fess up.”
Chip grinned. “All the more reason you should buy me a drink. That candy cost me a fortune.”
Jeff thought about it for a moment. “Okay,” he said finally, grabbing Chip’s outstretched hand and allowing himself to be pulled into a standing position.
The two men walked companionably into the lobby of the theatre. “So I just looked at him and said, ‘You seriously want me in a Nine Inch Nails t-shirt and an armful of black plastic bracelets for the carnival scene?’” Chip shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t know who hired the wardrobe assistants for this,” he continued, pushing the heavy door open and squinting into the late-afternoon sunshine. “I mean, there’s never been anyone on the show who dressed remotely like th—”
“Hey, Chip! Over here!”
Chip broke off to wave back at Wayne, who was leaning casually against Chip’s Cherokee. “Coming!” he called. In a low voice he said to Jeff, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“It’ll be fine. Hasn’t it been fine all week?”
“Just looking out for you,” Chip said softly.
“Really, I’m okay,” Jeff said, giving Chip a quick one-armed hug in gratitude. And suddenly he was, sort of. When Chip was around, it was impossible not to be.
“It’s good to see you, Jeff,” Wayne said as the two approached him, speaking to Jeff off-script for the first time in a week.
“It’s good to see you, too,” Jeff said automatically, before he realized it was the truth. He’d missed them both during his self-imposed hiatus. They really do make a good pair, Jeff thought wistfully. Wayne’s quiet warmth had a leavening effect on Chip’s natural exuberance, and he knew that Chip’s down-to-earth nature would keep Wayne’s ego in check.
“So where are we going?” Wayne said, looking quizzically at Chip.
Chip’s eyes darted back and forth while he chewed on his bottom lip. Jeff recognized it as what he privately called Chip’s “Hey, I know!” face, since it inevitably signaled that Chip was about to propose an idea he knew no one else would like. Chip did not disappoint. “Hey, I know!” he said, shooting a quick glare at Jeff when he caught him mouthing those three words along with him. “How about we go to La Cantina de Pescado at the aquarium?”
Jeff groaned. “Oh, come on, Chip! Didn’t you read that post on LAmag.com a few weeks ago?”
Chip’s face was the picture of confusion. “What post?”
“The one you’re as dumb as,” Wayne grumbled good-naturedly, prompting Chip to give him a mock punch on the arm. Wayne ruffled Chip’s hair in return, and Chip poked him in the stomach.
“Come on, you guys,” Jeff said, feeling awkward and out of place.
Chip and Wayne stopped their tussle. “Sorry.”
“Never mind about that,” Jeff said quickly. “I was just going to say that I’ve read about that bar and it sounds awful, Chip. Why can’t we just go someplace normal? Plus, isn’t the aquarium all the way down in Long Beach?”
“I don’t think it’s actually at the aquarium,” Wayne said. “It’s just supposed to look like one inside. All the drinks are named after different marine species. Like there’s a Cai-piranha—” Jeff made a face. “Yeah, I know,” Wayne said, chuckling. “There’s also a Harvey Walleye-banger, and a Stingray Sling.”
“Is that like a Singapore Sling?” Jeff asked, interested despite himself. He liked retro drinks.
“Yeah. Except they serve it on a flat plate that has two googly eyes stuck to it.”
Jeff shuddered. “Christ, Chip, why on earth would you want to drag us to a place like that?”
“Because I like fish,” Chip said defensively, his buoyant mood refusing to be dampened. “And it sounded like fun, even if it is kind of far away.”
“It’s not that far away,” Wayne corrected him. “I just said, it’s not actually at the Long Beach aquarium. I’m pretty sure it’s in Redondo Beach.”
Jeff eyed Wayne suspiciously. “You sound like you’re on his side about this.”
Wayne looked guilty. “It doesn’t really sound that bad,” he conceded. “And if it makes Chip happy....”
Chip ducked his head. If there’d been a pile of dirt on the sidewalk, he would’ve scuffed his toe in it and said, “Aww, shucks.”
“But it’s a moot point anyway,” Wayne continued, as Chip’s smile faded. “None of us knows exactly where it is. And we can’t even find the place, because Chip doesn’t have a GPS in his car.”
The grin returned to Chip’s face. “No, but I know someone who does.”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-11-28 05:20 pm (UTC)*offers glue gun, Scotch tape, ball of string, adhesive plasters, fresh tree resin and Time (the Great Healer)*
YOU CAN FIX THIS NAO. Y/Y? PLZ?
no subject
Date: 2012-11-29 06:54 am (UTC)Spoiler alert... Y
no subject
Date: 2012-11-29 10:02 am (UTC)God, how I love fandom. The ability to make up our own happy endings never ceases to delight me. (I have just entered Torchwood fandom - as usually several years too late - so it´s especially poignant.)
no subject
Date: 2012-11-29 09:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-29 09:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-03 12:53 am (UTC)Jeff crying there made me think, he must be so touched by the whole thing. I mean, not only because Greg is gone, but also because he was never really there, and it must've just dawned on him. Oh gosh. Poor baby... *pets* there, there. It's gonna be fine, kitten. *hides her tears*
((BTW, I mean it. I'm all teary-eyed. Dammit.))
Okay, now back to reading. I have a couple of ideas about what happened to Greg, and I'll say nothing until I check whether that's true or not.
CHIP, GREG'S NOT WORKING ANYMORE! *cries again because feels*
*runs to next chapter*
no subject
Date: 2012-12-03 07:04 am (UTC)