A/N: This has been sitting around for weeks. I suck and was too lazy to finish it. This chapter was suppose to go longer and have more stuff happen, but I was too lazy to write the rest so that's for chapter 4.
Disclaimer: I don't own SoCo, but I do own Karissa that fugly slut.
Julia for saying this sucked/was boring and me being too lazy to rewrite it. Thanks for being a honest whore.
Karissa for being such a bitch/whore. This is to you. I hate you.
TAKS for being a stupid idiotic state standarize test and giving me a lame essay topic so I could write it on Cavanaugh Park :P
Long Sets for Konstantine
Chapter 3: Cavanaugh Park
This is the last true burning letter
Given to a girl
Written by a boy
Andrew sat there, confused as he started down at the letter in his hands. He didn't know what to do now. Spending the last few hours writing a song didn't release the tension the way writing a letter to the source of his troubles did. He felt almost liberated and free, wishing he could give it to her and try to watch the emotions play over her face as she read everything. He wondered if she was still as hard to read as two years ago. Could he do it though? He knew where she lived, right across from Cavanaugh Park where they use to spend nights together being free and young. Oh, the feeling of being young again when he felt so alive, burning from youthfulness and simply, living. He felt so old right now, bending over this hotel desk thinking and thinking about what to do with this letter and wishing he could numb his emotions, just for a night. But he knew he was too much of a coward to show her what he thought about her and him, although it was already engraved on a tree.
A K 4eva
During the nights when he dreamed it was always this same dream... over and over. The same memories every night. The same dream of the tree she nicknamed Cliché and the memories of Cavanaugh Park, living out life in a deserted plane where they only existed. The park where everything started and ended.
Slamming his pen down, he got up and paced his room, feeling like a tiger trapped in a cage about to bolt. Oh god, how he just wanted to run away from all of this. Stardom. Konstantine. San Francisco. Cavanaugh Park. It was too much.
Andrew pulled out his lighter from his pocket and picked up the letter, mesmerized by the flames as the fire inundated the letter until the embers burned his fingers, over and over, turning the tips of his fingers black with ashes. His fingers hurt like fuck, but he didn't care. This was his way of coping. Punishing himself for his stupid mistakes to make sure he didn't ever do it again, but it never worked. Every solution to his problems never worked.
He got up suddenly and grabbed his keys, before heading out the door as it slammed shut behind him, a distant echo in his troubling mind. Dammit, he was thinking too much. He hated it when he thought so much where he overanalyzed things, whether he wanted to or not. He got into his beat up '92 camry and turn on the music as loud as he could, wanting to drown out his thoughts.
The first star I see, may not be a star.
Oh how fucking ironic. God must love him, playing a song that reminded her of him. Then again, every song reminded him of her. But he let it play anyways as he drove anywhere, as long as it way away from a closed space. And somehow, he found himself in front of Cavanaugh Park, deserted and rusty. He had never seen anything more beautiful then than the park where he grew up from a kid to a man. Funny how time changed objects that were suppose to be childish and special, forever eternal, into something worn out and feeble. A pathetic site.
But the memories... Damn the memories. And they call came back, flooding his mind with thoughts of her and that night. He wasn't her star even though she was his. He would never be.
"Andrew..." She had whispered, her eyes searching his, as if looking for something.
She was a dreamer. She always had been. Writing was a part of her and the fantasies created by a mind that was mixed with wishful thinking and pessimism was always lurking behind their relationship. He could never understand the way her mind worked and how the two blended together so well, but somehow it worked. It always did for her, whether she admitted it or not.
He wanted to tell her he was right here and staying for good. Staying forever, rooted to this spot on this night where the stars were out shining above them, endlessly twinkling. How he wished they were like the stars. Eternally forever, but when it came to Konstantine he was never sure of what to expect next. Or if he was expecting too much.
She looked across the park and pointed at the tree where names were engraved with "David hearts Becca" and "R E 4ever"
"How cliché, huh? The cliché tree."
She laughed bitterly, but there was something in her voice that caught his attention, almost like a longing for it. His eyes had widened in surprise, shocked and slightly confused. He wondered if this meant something. Or anything. He never knew for sure when it came to her, almost slightly confused by every word and never knowing if there was a secret meaning hidden somewhere deep.
He looked at her, and now matter how emo she was and against everything that was normal in a relationship, he knew what he had to do. He knew she wanted this to symbolize them. What they had.
Her eyes were swimming with emotions he couldn't read. Dammit, he wanted to be able to read her mind and see what was going on in that head of hers. Maybe she wasn't even thinking of him and instead was writing another one of her stories in her head. He hoped he existed in her stories as she existed in his songs. Every song was about her.
Andrew wished she wasn't a writer. There was too much thinking involve on her part, whether she admitted it or not. He just wanted her to live, like he was right now. Living this moment second by second, minute by minute, and feeling everything about the night. The stars, Jimmy Eat World playing in the background, the dewy grass scrunching underneath their shoes, and her hair swaying in the wind, singing along with the music playing.
He pulled out his knife and walked over to the tree, almost afraid of what she would say. She lied alot, never speaking her mind the way he wanted her too, afraid to be vulnerable. It was her way of preventing herself from ever getting hurt. He didn't think she understood that he knew how much she'd been hurt in the past and he wasn't there to hurt her. Never.
She grabbed his arm, looking into his eyes with question and he could almost see the fear in her eyes. He pulled his arm around her waist and pulled her along as he walked slowly to the tree, Konstantine seemingly in a daze.
Squatting down towards the roots, he carved first a pointy A that was too crooked, then a plus sign that looked like an x instead, and last a K followed by a 4eva. It looked messy and so imperfect, but that was how they were. Messy and imperfect, yet somehow fit together. He wondered if she realized it; if she ever would.
She looked at him, her eyes reveling nothing again but deep iced blue that were shields against the world.
"Why the roots?" She asked, her voice cracking on the last syllable.
God, he was so cliché and corny, but he had to do this. He had to put aside his pride to show her that he'd sink to this level just for her.
"Cause that's where we are right now, right? Um..." His voice sounded so flawed in his ears. "This is the beginning of it K. Of everything. Of you and me, Something Corporate, singing, touring. This is where everything starts... In Cavanaugh Park. This is the root of everything."
His own voice sounded so fake and artificial to his ears, but she didn't say anything. She turned her head quickly out of his sight, but he could see the tears brimming in her eyes. This meant alot to her. And that was why he had to do it, just for her.
She walked a way, starring at the sky the way dreamers do when they thought no one was looking. She pulled out the little camera she took with her everywhere, angling her head so that the moon beamed right in her face making her look like a goddess coming down to save him. Or his star, endlessly guiding him towards his dreams. It was always her in his big dreams.
"Andrew, you're a dipshit. What a bunch of bull."
Goddess to save him. What a joke. He knew it was part of her nature to balance everything. Balance her vulnerability and coldness, especially on a night like this that was begging to pull her apart.
She took her camera and squatted down near the roots of the tree until she was looking up at the branches and the moon, and took a snapshot of it. The polaroid picture, black and white, of this night that held so much meaning. Was that how she viewed tonight? As black and white?
"It's me and the moon..." she whispered quietly, almost as soft as the wind singing, swept into the air.
Did she not see he was here too? Maybe that's how she wanted to view tonight- just her and the moon, with him as just something faded into the background and didn't deserve a second glance.
Andrew sighed, suddenly depressed and didn't want to think at all about anything. Sometimes he hated his mind and how he always ended up overanalyzing everything. Like right now, the situation. This was the beginning of their relationship. If the start was this rocky, how will it end? He didn't want to know or guess. It depressed him to no end. He just wanted to drive her home and write a song about it. Maybe then he could pocket this night and all its emotions somewhere else so he didn't ever have to think about it again.
Something poked him on his side and he turned to see Konstantine protruding the polaroid at him, her eyes unreadable as they flashed with an emotion he couldn't guess. Oh how he wish he knew what emotion it was, maybe giving him a hint on what she was feeling with him. What she was feeling about tonight when the world was in-between crashing and floating.
"Take the picture... maybe it'll remind you of this night many years from now."
She almost said it like a question, her tone being slightly humorous but the way she phrased the world struck him and he just wanted to smile like the world would never end, the corners of his mouth threatening to tilt up but he fought them down.
Oh how her words meant so many things. How it showed him that it meant just as much as it did to her, putting it in the usual Konstantine humorous question form to protect herself but hinting at it, always dodging the bushes. He didn't care though. He just wanted to laugh and scream right now, or write a song about it. She was fucking amazing.
Andrew had put the picture in his pocket, careful to not bend it in any ways. He wanted it to be perfect, like this day and hoped that in the future, the memory of this night will be just as perfect.
He reached out towards her and she gazed at him for a second before she fell into them, the way things were suppose to be. She was supposed to fall for him and onto him for support. She felt so cold then, her skin prickling his with his iciness as she sighed, the content and happiness apparent in her face. They were closed, tilted towards the moonlight with a happy little smile on her face. She had never looked more like an angel then, sent down to fill his empty heart. He had never fallen like this before.
And that was when it started. How ironic was it that it ended at the same place with everything almost exactly the same?
Andrew sat there staring at Cavanaugh Park as the memories seeped past their barrier to come down to taunt him. The park then looked lonely as the fog rose above the ground by a foot, almost like a ghost had come down to claim it as its home. How odd was it that it was shining at the same time, giving the park an ominous feeling as the sun shone down on the fog. He turned off his car and got out, surprised by how cold it was in the dead spring especially in California.
Slowly taking a step into the park, he rounded over to the swings and sat down on them, the dew seeping into his jeans as he slowly swung, hopelessly wishing he could once again had the naivety of a little kid. He didn't know what he was doing. Just sitting there, swinging away with his eyes closed hearing his own songs playing over and over in his head. Did his conscience always have to taunt him?
Those thoughts lead to many other thoughts ruminating in his head. Today was his birthday. March 21st. He turned 20 today, but it felt like he was turning 59 instead. His heart pangs could easy be back pains. He wondered if Konstantine remembered today was his birthday. How if she had forgotten him? All the memories and all the laughs, the tears, the smiles from both outside and inside, the long talks till six in the morning and long walks home from school as the leaves fell around them. Maybe even Cavanaugh Park, the silences both comfortable and awkward, the times they had laid side by side or stood hand in hand. He recently thought of her daily. Hourly, every minute and second of the day, wondering how she was doing.
His eyes slowly closed against the foggy sky, paralleling his demeanor. All he could see were his thoughts. All he could feel was every emotion that a man could ever feel in a lifetime.
He wondered if she doing the same. What if their stories and memories, both told and untold, only lived through him and disappeared from her mind? If he was just an "in the moment" deal with no future thought of recollection. He wanted to be the thought that ran across her mind every once in a while and put make the corners of her lips curl into that sexy smirk, maybe even a full smile, and perhaps even leave her in a day dream for just a split second, no more.
Oh god how he missed her. How ironic that he was missing something he never had.
Andrew snapped open his eyes, a part of him wishing it was Konstantine. Hoping to dear god it was. But no, it was someone else. A girl with long blonde hair that was too straight and fried for its own good, blocking half her face as she walked forward towards him, a phantom in a ghost park coming to haunt him.
"That's my name."
He didn't meant for it to sound sarcastic and bitter, but it turned out that way. Damn Konstantine for always being in his thoughts and affecting his state of being. Right now he felt like he was going insane. Absolutely, pot-smoking insanity with white walls around his being.
The girl flinched, coming closer until he could make out her face. She seemed familiar, flickering in his distant memory somewhere.
The girl laughed bitterly, making Andrew cringe with its tone of dislike and long forgotten bitter. What did he ever do to her?
"You don't remember me, do you?"
She shifted her feet then, looking down at the ground like there was something oh so interesting to see.
It was then that he recognized her. By the way she was standing, looking down making it seem like she didn't think she was good enough to look at him. So many memories flashed through his head then, when the same girl stood in the same position in front of him.
Her stance was right though. She wasn't good enough to look at his fucking face as his hate resurfaced. But he kept his cool even as the anger boiled over the edge, yet his face remained calm and stoic. How good he had become at facades. He learned from the best.
God, this brought back so many old memories. Why the hell did he come here? He knew a part of him wanted to see Konstantine, hoping that she would somehow show up the same time he was here. Did she remember? Did she still think about it?
Fuck that though. He had to live now, not in wishful thinking world. That world always had the worst intentions.
Karissa shifted again, unable to stand still as nervousness fought into her posture.
"Um. I'm ... Karissa. Do you remember me from highschool?"
Of course he fucking remembered her. He had never hated anyone more in his life. How absolutely fucking ironic that he wished for Konstantine, and instead got her best friend that use to be in love with him. God really must have humor. It really wasn't his fault she was in love with him. He was nice to her like to any other girl that lusted after him just because he was in a band and not because of anything else. Like his dashing good lucks and charming personality, right? When Konstantine turned her back for even a mere second, she would hit on him, clinging to his shoulder after shows or outrageously flirting, dropping sexual comments or words that connotated towards something like that. How he always wanted to tell Konstantine about her so called best friend's behavior, but he never could have the heart to break her heart like that. Karissa was all she had besides him.
Konstantine's allegiance to her never wavered one bit. He had always been in envy of their relationship. How they were best friends, always leaning on each other and he had no one except Konstantine. How could Konstantine always had so much trust her in, but none in him. Her allegiance to him had always flickered; saying her allegiance to him had always flickered was a fucking understatement. She had fucking cheated on him.
He hated Karissa, but not only because of the betrayal of her best friend. He was so jealous that Konstantine always turned to her instead of him, making Andrew feel so fucking second rated. Oh how ironic that Karissa really was a phantom coming to haunt him. Reminding him of his first love. Of highschool. Of who he use to be, the naive boy that fell in love with the bitch. Never again would he make that mistake gain.
He swallowed the anger growing inside his throat at all the past emotions directed at the girl standing in front of him.
"Yea, I remember you. Konstantine's best friend."
He could feel the sentence coming out cruelly, but it didn't. Instead, it sounded sugar sweet. Fake. Artificial. Just like her, as she twirled her hair looking innocent and "nice". He just wanted to get out of here and this situation. Any reason would do.
A phone rang nearby and Andrew nearly jumped. It disturbed the quiet awkward between them, and he was glad it did. He hated awkward silences.
She raised her eyebrow at him, before saying, "Aren't you going to answer that?"
He hadn't realized that was his phone as he reached into his pocket to pull it out. It was kind of stuck though. Damn these new pants he bought. He heard from a friend that "tight"/girly pants were in style. He was so scene. He'd definitely fuck himself if he had the chance.
Finally pulling it lose from the confinements of the tight jeans, "WILGENE" was flashing on the caller id. He didn't really feel like talking to him after yesterday's morning acoustic radio show, but anything to get him out of here.
"Sup Birthday Boy. Where are you? I stopped by your hotel to tell you our plans for tonight but you were gone."
Andrew shrugged his shoulders, before he realized Wilgene couldn't see him.
"What plans you have in mind? I'm kind of tired."
He could almost see Wilgene rolling his eyes and calling him a pansy emo kid.
"Tired? Fuck that man. We were going to head over to the Red Room to check out this awesome band I heard about. Brand New. They'll blow you away."
He really didn't feel like going to a show, but he could feel Karissa's hungry glance rake over his body. He nervously shifted a few feet away from her. He felt like she was about to jump him or something.
"Ya sure. I was about to head back anyways. What time you wanna meet?" Andrew asked loudly for Karissa's sake.
"Umm... in about an hour. Six. Just meet us there since you don't drink or get high or any shit like that. Damn you good emo kids."
He hung up on Wilgene. Good emo kid?
He'll show that bastard. He was wearing tight girl pants for god sake. That had bad boy emo kid all over it.
"Oh so you're uh about to uh leave? Do you want to go out to lunch uh tomorrow?"
Uh fuck you, whore.
He could feel his eyes squinting from trying so hard not to laugh. But as he looked at her, her big brown eyes desperately wanting him to say yes, he could feel his nice side being sympathetic and his conscience screaming into his ear. Those eyes, hoping. He didn't have the heart to say no as he felt himself slowly shaking his head and saying sure. He hated having a conscience.
Her eyes lit up and he could read the thoughts from her over expressive face, scrunched up in excitement.
OmGSh He might love me!
That'd be the day.