Mirage (PG)

[musicboxgirl.livejournal.com]

Fandom: POPSLASH
Pairing: Chris/Justin
Length: ~6,557
Author on LJ: merryish
Author Website: Any Road
Why this must be read: I think that by now you’ve probably noticed that I like to talk a lot about what stories feel like to me. What I look for most in fic is a story that can make me feel an emotion no matter what my mood. This story is a great example of that.
You know that feeling you get when you realize you’ve lost something forever and you really want it back? That is what this fic is. It’s this desperate searching for that lost thing and you try and try and try to find it but it’s gone. Merry has written a fic that is all about that feeling and, if you care about the characters, it will kind of grab you by the guts and squeeze. Why would you want to read something like that? Because life isn’t always happiness and sunshine and I think many of the stories that explore the down side of life get overlooked. I like a healthy bit of reality, I like fics that could be real, that feel real. Mirage is what I imagine would really happen to a person that was that down and out on life.



There was a Taco Bell on the outskirts of town, and he stopped for a Dr. Pepper and a burrito. Nobody in the entire store spoke English as a first language, and he was sure that had to violate some kind of labor law. They forgot to leave the red sauce off his burrito, but they'd forgotten so many times in so many different cities that he was used to it. The consistency of it all was actually kind of comforting.

He pushed through the door and into the twilight, muggy air wrapping around him like a warm, wet blanket. He could hear cars racing past on the interstate. There was a little wind, not enough to make a difference, just enough to make him want more of it. He opened the driver's side door and sat down and turned to put the bag in the passenger's seat. When he turned his arm caught the drink holder and his Dr. Pepper tipped to the side and spilled all over the passenger side floorboard.

There was a map on the floorboard, wet and sticky now. It was folded to show California, and Bakersfield was circled in dark blue pen, over and over. Off to the right, in the same blue pen, it said Everybody's got to be somewhere. The word somewhere was underlined twice and an arrow swung around from the period to point at Bakersfield, in case there was any confusion. It was in his own handwriting.

He sat quietly while night came on, doing nothing. He didn't eat his burrito. The soda seeped down into the rug and dried. He thought about calling his mother. She'd be worried by now, no matter what Melinda and Joey told her. Chris held up a hand in front of his face, and his fingers shook so hard he had to clench his hand into a fist to make it stop. He thought she was probably right to be worried. Melinda and Joey didn't know shit.

He didn't call her, or anybody else. He didn't know why he was afraid, just that he was. Just that the blue words filled him with a gut-twisting dread like the darkness inside the shadows in a dark room. He felt light-headed, and realized he wasn't breathing.

He breathed. He breathed on purpose, and there was a rhythm to it, and the rhythm helped. His hands stopped shaking and his heart slowed down and he felt tired, down to the center of his bones. His eyelids drooped and his face sagged and his head was heavy, so heavy. He leaned it on the steering wheel and thought, just for a second, I'll just rest for a second.


Mirage