Categories > Original > Drama > Beat of Their Own Drums
Right Here
0 reviewsHe's Nick's rival. He's her friend. When push comes to shove, Paige knows what's more important than a silly grudge. Song used: Miley Cyrus' "Right Here"
0Unrated
A/N: All right. Ya'll ready to see me take a teeny-bopper song and turn it into a thoughtful, semi-well put together oneshot? ALL RIGHT! HERE IT GOES!
Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to "Right Here".
Song Used: Miley Cyrus' "Right Here".
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Six: Right Here
Puppet: Paige Waters
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'll be right here,
When you need me, anytime,
Just keep believing,
And I'll be right here,
If you ever need a friend,
Someone to care and understand,
I'll be right here...
“Are you sure you should be hanging around me?”
I looked up from my math homework, not sure if it was a smile or a frown tugging at the corners of my lips. My pencil was poised just above a half-finished 8, a notebook resting in my lap as I sat in a lonesome corner in the school library, calculator not far off. The air back there was so quiet and still...it seemed so odd to finally have a voice break through.
The voice, a male voice that was rich and deep but not quite mature yet to be that of an adult, belonged to the curly-haired, broad-shouldered sophomore sitting on the floor next to me. His face was that of one who had suffered far too much at such a young age; his short, button nose was crooked after being broken several times, his dark, soft eyes were sunken from lack of sleep thanks to nightmares, and his silky, opaque skin was decorated with pale, ridged scars that seemed too numerous to count.
His marred brow was creased with uncertainty when the two of us met eyes, his own writing brought to a momentary pause as he waited for the answer.
I pretended not to know what he was talking about for his sake. “Yeah. Why? Do you know something I don't?”
His head gently swayed from side to side the way an agitated bull may contemplate rattling its dangerous horns. A undeniably cute curl of chocolate-hued hair, displaced by the movement, dropped down into one of his eyes and was removed with a quick movement of a fleshy, clumsy hand. “If Nick finds you here -”
“If Nick doesn't like who my friends are, he's just gonna have to deal.” I bluntly cut him off, smiling a little to take the edge out of my voice.
Technically, Mac was really more of a stalker turned friend than 'just a friend'. At one time, I'd been the only thing he'd wanted, and he was more than willing to fight the one thing that stood in his way. Not surprisingly, that thing (or person, really) was Nick. I regret to recall the times the boys had gotten into scuffles, usually instigated by Mac.
Likewise, Nick probably wouldn't have liked it if he found his rival and his girlfriend doing homework together after school, but he had gone home right after the bell rang and probably wasn't coming back, so I wasn't particularly worried. Mac wasn't dangerous anyhow, so I wasn't afraid of being left alone with him; he liked throwing punches, but he knew better than to try and make a move on me.
He was such a sweet boy most of the time, anyway.
All you have to do is call my name,
No matter how close or far away,
Ask me once and I'll come,
I'll come running,
And when I can't be with you,
Dream me near,
Keep me in your heart and I'll appear,
All you gotta do is turn around,
Close your eyes, look inside,
I'm right here...
“Hey, what're you guys still doing here?”
Four eyes, the first two keenly perceptive and the color of the late afternoon sky and the others tenderly trusting and matching hot chocolate in hue, flicked up, startled, to meet the eyes of yet another.
But I didn't need to look at him to know who it was. His voice was easily recognizable to anyone between the ages 9 and 16.
I smiled cheerfully up at him and stood, putting my notebook down next the the calculator. “Hey, Nick!” I greeted him, holding my arms out a little for a hug, “We're just waiting for 5:30 to roll around; basketball practice, remember?”
Mac and I were both b-ball players. I was on the girls' JV team and, being the sort that was light on my feet, was their point guard. Mac however, was obviously on the boys' team, serving as the hulking power forward with the sophomore team. The scarred boy was slow, but was an intimidating defender and one would not want to challenge him...on or off the court.
Nick's suspicious look quickly melted away into a smile, his hands sliding around my midriff and pressing my ever-so-gently to his chest. “Sorry, I forgot,” he apologized, pulling back and looking curiously at Mac, “mind if I borrow Paige for a second?”
I turned so I could face the other boy, enjoying the feel of the vocalist's warmth at my side and the quiet innocence of having his arm around my waist, his hand rested on my hip. I would've smiled had it not been for seeing the mortified look on Mac's face.
It took him a second to respond. Once again his head shook from side to side, obviously caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the very person we had been talking about. “Um, no,” he mumbled out of one side of his mouth, his eyes focusing hard on what he had been writing a moment before, “no. Go ahead.”
I felt my heart go out to my hapless friend. I knew all too well what it was like to admire someone who was already a 'no fly' zone. At one time, Nick had been going out with my best friend, and little old me just had to watch quietly from the sidelines.
“Great,” Nick said coolly, already starting to escort me away, “thanks.”
I glanced over my shoulder and smiled encouragingly at Mac. “Hey, 'member what I said.”
Isn't it great that you know that,
I'm ready to go wherever you're at,
Anywhere I'll be there...
“Hey, Mac! How was practice?”
I had just started to walk home from basketball. Mac was a little ahead, so I jogged up to catch up to him while he stopped and turned to look at me. Though for some reason, his eyes quickly darted the other way. “Fine. Yours?” He muttered.
I cocked my head to one side, wondering if he was either lying about practice being fine or if he was still freaked out about earlier. Should I have told him that Nick just wanted to talk and that it hadn't been anything important? Or would that just make things worse? “Fine.” I answered.
He began walking again and I, though shorter, easily matched his slow, ambling stride, giving myself a quick look over. I hadn't bothered to change out of my 'workout' clothes, so rather than a pair of jeans and a big t-shirt I had some blue basketball shorts and a yellow tank top.
...Maybe it hadn't been the best choice. Maybe I should've thought of that before I said anything.
“What did Nick want?” He asked suddenly, though not once did his eyes leave the ground. His feet must've been really interesting.
I shrugged. “Nothing, really. Just wanted to talk a little, I guess.”
“You two could've done that while I was there.” Mac said sourly.
I tensed, sensing the jealousy tainting his voice. Had I not trusted him, had I not held him in such high regard, had he not been my friend I would've been a little scared. I would've admitted that he was right, but something held me back. I'm not sure what it was.
The point was I did trust him, I did hold him in high regard, and he was my friend. I wanted him to feel like he could come to me with whatever may be bothering him; like I cared. He wasn't the sort who seemed to have very many friends, after all; the least I could do was make him feel like he wasn't completely alone in this entire mess.
“Look, Mac,” I said thoughtfully, wishing he would look me in the eyes when we were talking, “I get the feeling that you seem to think whatever grudge it is that Nick has against you, I do too. But guess what?”
I got my wish. His eyes lifted to meet mine, the tiniest traces of a smile on his face as he guardedly hoped. “What?” He asked, his strong voice squeaking a bit as if his chest had suddenly tightened.
“I don't. Nick and I are two different people with two different opinions. I trust you,” I explained to him, adjusting the strap of my gym bag on my shoulder and smiling at him a little, “you're my friend, no matter what anyone else thinks of you”
He smiled for the first time that day. “That means a lot. Thanks.”
All you have to do is call my name,
No matter how close or far away,
Ask me once and I'll come,
I'll come running,
And when I can't be with you,
Dream me near,
Keep me in your heart and I'll appear,
All you gotta do is turn around,
Close your eyes, look inside,
I'm right here...
“Let it go, baby...”
After listening to he and his brothers' innocent songs or seeing the nice boys in action, fans would never guess that Nick Jonas was capable of anything more then a chaste kiss on the lips.
But I knew better.
Skin hot and breath heavy, his lips eagerly claimed skin along my jaw line for his own. His fingers, which had been tickling the sensitive indents behind my ear, now tried clumsily to silence the twittering phone in my back pocket. That was Mac's ring...but wasn't it late? Why was he calling now...?
Something must be wrong.
Though every fiber of my being was screaming at me to ignore it, I pushed Nick away, shuddering as he placed a desperate kiss on the side of my neck. “Please,” he begged, “let it go.”
“I...I can't. Something isn't right.”
Whenever you need me,
There's no need to worry,
You know I'm gonna be,
Right here...
I left the Jonas residence in a flurry (we were supposed to be studying), forgetting the coat I'd taken off and leaving poor Nick with little explanation. I missed the call, but with fingers numb from the close call I'd just had I dialed Mac's number, hoping to discover what would have possessed him to call at such an hour.
My watch read 8:45pm. Shouldn't he have been studying? Sleeping? Anything besides interrupting a make out session...he hadn't even left a message.
A powerful tremor of fear rocked me to the very core when a robotic, monotone voice told me that he had been unable to reach his phone in time.
Hadn't he just called me?
I broke into a run for the O'Kane home, sure of the approaching calamity and praying I wasn't too late.
Ask me once and I'll come,
I'll come running...
I was. I was too late. I knew it. I could hear someone shouting from inside, all the way through their thick, elaborately carved, solid oak door. I tried opening it, but for whatever reason I couldn't get the knob to turn. Perhaps it had been locked; maybe it was just too hard for me to grip anything with the way my hands were sweating.
Cursing myself for being so slow and praying still, I tried to see what was happening through the numerous windows.
Damn! The curtains were all drawn.
Heart beating like a drum, fear and worry pulsing through my body with every heartbeat, I crouched under the window where the sound was clearest and waited. I tried to hear what the person was saying, and though I could recognize the voice as Mac's dad and that he sounded drunk, I couldn't make out what he was saying.
Suddenly the yelling stopped. I froze, holding my breath.
I heard the front door open and close. A grunt. Silence.
Afraid of what I might find but unable to leave well enough alone, I rounded the side of the house and peered cautiously into the front lawn. My chest tightened and I winced, instantly spotting a crumpled heap of clothing and realizing that someone was sprawled out in the grass. Whoever it was tried to get up, but their arms trembled weakly and they took another dip toward the ground. Then they were still.
Dreadfully curious, I tentatively approached. From their position on their stomach, all I could see was that they had a messy tangle of dark curls and that they were still breathing, if not shallowly; it probably a boy.
Then, the recognition crashed down on my heart with such crushing force I cried out from the pain. “Oh my God! Mac!”
I scrambled over and had to stop myself from throwing myself upon him, not sure if I was relieved that he was alive or worried that he seemed to be badly hurt. I knelt over him, and with a trembling hand I reached down and placed it on the broken boy's shoulder blade.
Tears slithered down my cheeks. “I heard you, Mac. I'm so sorry it was too late...”
And when I can't be with you,
Dream me near,
Keep me in your heart and I'll appear,
All you gotta do is turn around,
Close your eyes, look inside,
I'm right here,
Oh, yeah, yeah,
I'm right here.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: So? Did I do a good job? Or did I fail? Pardon my pride when I say that I think I did a damn good job all things considered, but feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.
Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to "Right Here".
Song Used: Miley Cyrus' "Right Here".
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Six: Right Here
Puppet: Paige Waters
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'll be right here,
When you need me, anytime,
Just keep believing,
And I'll be right here,
If you ever need a friend,
Someone to care and understand,
I'll be right here...
“Are you sure you should be hanging around me?”
I looked up from my math homework, not sure if it was a smile or a frown tugging at the corners of my lips. My pencil was poised just above a half-finished 8, a notebook resting in my lap as I sat in a lonesome corner in the school library, calculator not far off. The air back there was so quiet and still...it seemed so odd to finally have a voice break through.
The voice, a male voice that was rich and deep but not quite mature yet to be that of an adult, belonged to the curly-haired, broad-shouldered sophomore sitting on the floor next to me. His face was that of one who had suffered far too much at such a young age; his short, button nose was crooked after being broken several times, his dark, soft eyes were sunken from lack of sleep thanks to nightmares, and his silky, opaque skin was decorated with pale, ridged scars that seemed too numerous to count.
His marred brow was creased with uncertainty when the two of us met eyes, his own writing brought to a momentary pause as he waited for the answer.
I pretended not to know what he was talking about for his sake. “Yeah. Why? Do you know something I don't?”
His head gently swayed from side to side the way an agitated bull may contemplate rattling its dangerous horns. A undeniably cute curl of chocolate-hued hair, displaced by the movement, dropped down into one of his eyes and was removed with a quick movement of a fleshy, clumsy hand. “If Nick finds you here -”
“If Nick doesn't like who my friends are, he's just gonna have to deal.” I bluntly cut him off, smiling a little to take the edge out of my voice.
Technically, Mac was really more of a stalker turned friend than 'just a friend'. At one time, I'd been the only thing he'd wanted, and he was more than willing to fight the one thing that stood in his way. Not surprisingly, that thing (or person, really) was Nick. I regret to recall the times the boys had gotten into scuffles, usually instigated by Mac.
Likewise, Nick probably wouldn't have liked it if he found his rival and his girlfriend doing homework together after school, but he had gone home right after the bell rang and probably wasn't coming back, so I wasn't particularly worried. Mac wasn't dangerous anyhow, so I wasn't afraid of being left alone with him; he liked throwing punches, but he knew better than to try and make a move on me.
He was such a sweet boy most of the time, anyway.
All you have to do is call my name,
No matter how close or far away,
Ask me once and I'll come,
I'll come running,
And when I can't be with you,
Dream me near,
Keep me in your heart and I'll appear,
All you gotta do is turn around,
Close your eyes, look inside,
I'm right here...
“Hey, what're you guys still doing here?”
Four eyes, the first two keenly perceptive and the color of the late afternoon sky and the others tenderly trusting and matching hot chocolate in hue, flicked up, startled, to meet the eyes of yet another.
But I didn't need to look at him to know who it was. His voice was easily recognizable to anyone between the ages 9 and 16.
I smiled cheerfully up at him and stood, putting my notebook down next the the calculator. “Hey, Nick!” I greeted him, holding my arms out a little for a hug, “We're just waiting for 5:30 to roll around; basketball practice, remember?”
Mac and I were both b-ball players. I was on the girls' JV team and, being the sort that was light on my feet, was their point guard. Mac however, was obviously on the boys' team, serving as the hulking power forward with the sophomore team. The scarred boy was slow, but was an intimidating defender and one would not want to challenge him...on or off the court.
Nick's suspicious look quickly melted away into a smile, his hands sliding around my midriff and pressing my ever-so-gently to his chest. “Sorry, I forgot,” he apologized, pulling back and looking curiously at Mac, “mind if I borrow Paige for a second?”
I turned so I could face the other boy, enjoying the feel of the vocalist's warmth at my side and the quiet innocence of having his arm around my waist, his hand rested on my hip. I would've smiled had it not been for seeing the mortified look on Mac's face.
It took him a second to respond. Once again his head shook from side to side, obviously caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the very person we had been talking about. “Um, no,” he mumbled out of one side of his mouth, his eyes focusing hard on what he had been writing a moment before, “no. Go ahead.”
I felt my heart go out to my hapless friend. I knew all too well what it was like to admire someone who was already a 'no fly' zone. At one time, Nick had been going out with my best friend, and little old me just had to watch quietly from the sidelines.
“Great,” Nick said coolly, already starting to escort me away, “thanks.”
I glanced over my shoulder and smiled encouragingly at Mac. “Hey, 'member what I said.”
Isn't it great that you know that,
I'm ready to go wherever you're at,
Anywhere I'll be there...
“Hey, Mac! How was practice?”
I had just started to walk home from basketball. Mac was a little ahead, so I jogged up to catch up to him while he stopped and turned to look at me. Though for some reason, his eyes quickly darted the other way. “Fine. Yours?” He muttered.
I cocked my head to one side, wondering if he was either lying about practice being fine or if he was still freaked out about earlier. Should I have told him that Nick just wanted to talk and that it hadn't been anything important? Or would that just make things worse? “Fine.” I answered.
He began walking again and I, though shorter, easily matched his slow, ambling stride, giving myself a quick look over. I hadn't bothered to change out of my 'workout' clothes, so rather than a pair of jeans and a big t-shirt I had some blue basketball shorts and a yellow tank top.
...Maybe it hadn't been the best choice. Maybe I should've thought of that before I said anything.
“What did Nick want?” He asked suddenly, though not once did his eyes leave the ground. His feet must've been really interesting.
I shrugged. “Nothing, really. Just wanted to talk a little, I guess.”
“You two could've done that while I was there.” Mac said sourly.
I tensed, sensing the jealousy tainting his voice. Had I not trusted him, had I not held him in such high regard, had he not been my friend I would've been a little scared. I would've admitted that he was right, but something held me back. I'm not sure what it was.
The point was I did trust him, I did hold him in high regard, and he was my friend. I wanted him to feel like he could come to me with whatever may be bothering him; like I cared. He wasn't the sort who seemed to have very many friends, after all; the least I could do was make him feel like he wasn't completely alone in this entire mess.
“Look, Mac,” I said thoughtfully, wishing he would look me in the eyes when we were talking, “I get the feeling that you seem to think whatever grudge it is that Nick has against you, I do too. But guess what?”
I got my wish. His eyes lifted to meet mine, the tiniest traces of a smile on his face as he guardedly hoped. “What?” He asked, his strong voice squeaking a bit as if his chest had suddenly tightened.
“I don't. Nick and I are two different people with two different opinions. I trust you,” I explained to him, adjusting the strap of my gym bag on my shoulder and smiling at him a little, “you're my friend, no matter what anyone else thinks of you”
He smiled for the first time that day. “That means a lot. Thanks.”
All you have to do is call my name,
No matter how close or far away,
Ask me once and I'll come,
I'll come running,
And when I can't be with you,
Dream me near,
Keep me in your heart and I'll appear,
All you gotta do is turn around,
Close your eyes, look inside,
I'm right here...
“Let it go, baby...”
After listening to he and his brothers' innocent songs or seeing the nice boys in action, fans would never guess that Nick Jonas was capable of anything more then a chaste kiss on the lips.
But I knew better.
Skin hot and breath heavy, his lips eagerly claimed skin along my jaw line for his own. His fingers, which had been tickling the sensitive indents behind my ear, now tried clumsily to silence the twittering phone in my back pocket. That was Mac's ring...but wasn't it late? Why was he calling now...?
Something must be wrong.
Though every fiber of my being was screaming at me to ignore it, I pushed Nick away, shuddering as he placed a desperate kiss on the side of my neck. “Please,” he begged, “let it go.”
“I...I can't. Something isn't right.”
Whenever you need me,
There's no need to worry,
You know I'm gonna be,
Right here...
I left the Jonas residence in a flurry (we were supposed to be studying), forgetting the coat I'd taken off and leaving poor Nick with little explanation. I missed the call, but with fingers numb from the close call I'd just had I dialed Mac's number, hoping to discover what would have possessed him to call at such an hour.
My watch read 8:45pm. Shouldn't he have been studying? Sleeping? Anything besides interrupting a make out session...he hadn't even left a message.
A powerful tremor of fear rocked me to the very core when a robotic, monotone voice told me that he had been unable to reach his phone in time.
Hadn't he just called me?
I broke into a run for the O'Kane home, sure of the approaching calamity and praying I wasn't too late.
Ask me once and I'll come,
I'll come running...
I was. I was too late. I knew it. I could hear someone shouting from inside, all the way through their thick, elaborately carved, solid oak door. I tried opening it, but for whatever reason I couldn't get the knob to turn. Perhaps it had been locked; maybe it was just too hard for me to grip anything with the way my hands were sweating.
Cursing myself for being so slow and praying still, I tried to see what was happening through the numerous windows.
Damn! The curtains were all drawn.
Heart beating like a drum, fear and worry pulsing through my body with every heartbeat, I crouched under the window where the sound was clearest and waited. I tried to hear what the person was saying, and though I could recognize the voice as Mac's dad and that he sounded drunk, I couldn't make out what he was saying.
Suddenly the yelling stopped. I froze, holding my breath.
I heard the front door open and close. A grunt. Silence.
Afraid of what I might find but unable to leave well enough alone, I rounded the side of the house and peered cautiously into the front lawn. My chest tightened and I winced, instantly spotting a crumpled heap of clothing and realizing that someone was sprawled out in the grass. Whoever it was tried to get up, but their arms trembled weakly and they took another dip toward the ground. Then they were still.
Dreadfully curious, I tentatively approached. From their position on their stomach, all I could see was that they had a messy tangle of dark curls and that they were still breathing, if not shallowly; it probably a boy.
Then, the recognition crashed down on my heart with such crushing force I cried out from the pain. “Oh my God! Mac!”
I scrambled over and had to stop myself from throwing myself upon him, not sure if I was relieved that he was alive or worried that he seemed to be badly hurt. I knelt over him, and with a trembling hand I reached down and placed it on the broken boy's shoulder blade.
Tears slithered down my cheeks. “I heard you, Mac. I'm so sorry it was too late...”
And when I can't be with you,
Dream me near,
Keep me in your heart and I'll appear,
All you gotta do is turn around,
Close your eyes, look inside,
I'm right here,
Oh, yeah, yeah,
I'm right here.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: So? Did I do a good job? Or did I fail? Pardon my pride when I say that I think I did a damn good job all things considered, but feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.
Sign up to rate and review this story