Categories > Original > Drama > Beat of Their Own Drums
A/N: I really like this song and though it was a little tough getting an idea for it, I really like the way it came out. I'm not sure if it's as exciting as I really wanted it to be, but I tried! I really did!
Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to "Rush"
Song Used: Aly and A.J.'s "Rush"
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fifty: Rush
Puppet: Olivia Rokit
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Into your head, into your mind,
Out of your soul, race through your veins,
You can't escape, you can't escape...
This was it.
The low, rumbling hum of my machine's powerful engine was music to my ears. The leathery wheel beneath my hand, almost liquid in its smoothness against my skin, was better than even the finest silk. The smell of exhaust, gasoline, and burning rubber, hanging thick in the tense, expectant air, didn't bother me in the slightest bit; truth be told, I liked them better than any sort of perfume. The long, straight road stretching out before me was more welcome a sight than an oasis to one lost in a desert. I lick my lips and, tasting salt there, grinned.
This was it!
I was hardly even aware of the growl of the car next to me, nor of the driver inside who was undoubtedly just as eager as I was. I flexed my hand on the gearshift, familiarizing myself with it for the thousandth time since I'd started doing this not too long ago.
The first light on the tree lit up; an amber beacon that was weak and small compared to the stadium lights in the stands. I didn't tense, nor did I relax. I waited.
A second light. I smiled to myself.
A third light. Here we go.
Into your life, into your dreams,
Out of the dark, sunlight again,
You can't explain, you can't explain...
This was what I'd wanted for as long as I could remember.
When I was a little girl, I'd played Hot Wheels with the boys while all the other girls were playing with dolls or little horses. When I was a kid around nine or ten, I'd started tinkering with the insides of my numerous remote control cars; sometimes ruining them for good, other times making them much faster then they originally had been. When I got to be a teenager, I'd moved on from the toys to the real thing and earned my license as soon as possible.
I don't know what it was about cars. All I knew was that just being around them gave me a buzz I didn't feel with anything else. Getting behind the wheel of a powerful dragster like this was like coming into light after being engulfed in darkness for a long time.
It was not as if there was a great amount of time in between the lights to think about these things. In fact, there was really very little spacing as each of them lit up.
Green light!
Can you feel it, can you feel it?
Rushin' through your hair,
Rushin' through your head,
Can you feel it, can you feel it?
Like prowling tigers abruptly pouncing upon their chosen prey, the grumbling cars suddenly roared to life.
At first, we didn't go anywhere. The back wheels spun with an angry screech, losing matter against the more formidable concrete and only intensifying the smell of scorched rubber. I swore under my breath, knowing that this pause, no matter how minute, would cost us. I had to make up for lost time.
With a violent forward lurch my machine lunged furiously after our opponent, snarling its rage at being left behind. I wasn't deterred by the force, though I'd have to admit later that it surprised me a little. I left no fear and thus had no need to whiten my knuckles in an attempt to hold on to the wheel and the gearshift, and instead held them firmly but calmly.
We shot after the other, not far behind. Adrenaline raced through my veins and my heart pounded like a jackhammer, but it was all I could do to keep from laughing out loud. This was life!
Seconds felt like hours as we sped down the length of the track, which now seemed far too short. I felt every shake, every tremble of the powerful machine (though I was more inclined to call it an animal due to the fact that it felt very much alive) and was sensitive to it. It was almost as if the thing could speak to me, and it was demanding my utmost attention.
Faster, it whispered, faster...
Then it was over.
Don't let nobody tell you, your life is over,
Be every color that you are,
Into the rush now,
You don't have to know how,
Know it all before you try...
It was hard to come back down to Earth, so it was only natural that it took me a couple of seconds to actually be able to pull myself out of the car. Inspectors swarmed around us like sharks surrounding a wounded creature, chattering amongst themselves. A few of them said something to me and patted my shoulder, but I didn't really hear what they were saying.
Jesus. It was hot in there.
I slid my helmet off and swiped a red-gloved hand across my brow, drying it somewhat and smiling in satisfaction. The real, earthy feel of sweat helped drag me back into real life. “How'd I do?” I asked to no one in particular.
One of them, the young man closest to me, looked up with a little smile. “You lost,” he said coolly, “but not by much.”
Pullin' you in, spinnin' you 'round,
Lifting your feet right off the ground,
You can't believe this is happening now...
I cocked my head to one side and nodded, not really caring that I'd lost. That had been the last run, which meant that I'd gotten second place. Though some racers thought of silver as being nothing but the first loser, I was more than happy to just have made it that far.
I didn't race to win, anyway. I did it for the adrenaline rush pulsing through my veins, for the fun of seeing the looks on peoples' faces when I told them I drag raced, for the feeling of raw power that surged through all the muscles in my body.
Soccer was my competitive hobby. I strove, toiled, fussed over it. I wanted to do my absolute best and win as much as I could, and therefore put a large amount of stress on myself in order to do well. I enjoy it, but it was one of those things that would probably end up being the death of me; like if I were a smoker or a drunkard.
But with racing it was different. I just did it because I loved it, and did well because I had a natural talent for it. I didn't have to work hard at it, and could just enjoy the moment without wondering how the next race would end.
I was free behind the wheel. Racing down that track felt like flying.
I'd always said that if I was going to die young, I wanted to be on the track doing what I loved. Of course, Kevin had nearly had a heart attack the first time I'd said it (and still did every time he heard it), but there really wasn't a way for me to explain to him why. He loved music, but he wasn't going to die because of some freak accident on stage.
Can you feel it, can you feel it?
Rushin' through your hair,
Rushin' through your head,
Can you feel it, can you feel it?
I ended up stayed at the track far later then I'd meant to, and felt a rare twinge of guilt when I finally met up with Kevin. He'd brought me up there because he'd been worried that if I drove myself, I'd be overly excited after and would end up getting a speeding ticket (or worse) on the way home. He'd been up on the stands, I think, the entire time, watching and waiting for his racer chick to find a way out of the crowd and back to him.
“Hey!” I chirped brightly, giving him a hug that he gladly returned, “Sorry t' keep ya' waiting. Now you know how I feel half the time. Only thing is, my fans are a lot quieter.”
He laughed cheerfully, obviously not minding the wait. “Wanna trade?”
I giggled, still feeling like I was walking on air even though I was exhausted. That's what racing did to me; it was all I could figure. “Only if you wanna drive for me.”
The look on his face was priceless.
Don't let nobody tell you, your life is over,
Be every color that you are,
Into the rush now,
You don't have to know how,
Know it all before you try...
I took his hand in mine and started walking down toward the lot, a bounce in my step that hadn't been there yesterday. I hadn't really expected him to be enthusiastic about taking my place; he liked watching me, but it wasn't hard to see that he was worried out of his mind every time I climbed into one of those death traps. “Aw, c'mon,” I teased lightly, “I think you'd do fine!”
“I...” he hesitated, “I don't think I'd want to take your spot from you.”
“That's probably a good decision,” I replied, “'cause I don't think your fan girls would like me as much.”
He snorted. “What fan girls?”
I waved the comment away, not in the mood to be very negative. “The ones who can tell a man from the boys.”
I chuckled, feeling him puff up a bit at my side, his ego stroked and making him purr like a happy lion. I had always thought it ridiculous, the way Joe and Nick got all the attention, but wasn't especially vocal about it. For a while, neither of us said anything, and the silence was only broken once we reached Kevin's car.
“I worry about you, ya' know,” the guitarist said slowly, “when I see you out there...”
It takes you to another place,
Imagine everything you can,
All the colors start to blend,
The system overloads again...
He bit his lip and looked at me, eyes glinting with something other then the dim streetlight. “I know it sounds dumb, but I just look at you getting into that car and can't help but think, 'oh God, what if this is the last time I see Ollie alive?'”
I'd heard this before, so with a soft smile of amusement I glanced up at the dark sky. I didn't bother to look at him when I answered. “Kev, I'm not gonna lie to you; though it's pretty damn small, there's always gonna be a chance that it will be.”
His face twisted up and it looked like he couldn't decide if he was distraught or angry. “Ollie -”
“Shh,” I whispered, pressing a finger to his lips so I didn't have to hear any of his lectures, “you gotta let me explain something first.”
He blinked in begrudging understanding and I removed my hand. “What you've gotta remember is that I get the same rush from racing out there as you do soloing on stage.”
Can you feel it?
“You've said that before,” Kevin said with a hint of annoyance in his tone, taking a step back so he was out of range, “but I'm not gonna go get myself killing playing guitar anytime soon.”
I shook my head, wishing there was some way for me to explain. “So what happens when you fall off stage and break your neck?” I asked, thinking maybe I could bank on the fact that nothing was perfectly safe, “Or when you get literally get mauled by some overeager crowd?”
“None of that's ever gonna happen.” He dismissed the suggestions with an irritating wave of his tough, firm hand.
I narrowed my eyes, border lining on anger. “Are you asking me to stop?”
Something in his stance immediately changed. His muscles lost their rigidity and the flame of fierce protection simmered down into a spark, softening his face as he realized what he'd been doing. “No,” he murmured, drawing closer again and putting his hands on my shoulders, “of course not. That would be like you asking me to never play guitar again.”
Well, at least he could recognize that. “Then what is it that you want me to do?” I demanded.
He gave my shoulders a squeeze, his eyes pleading and his brow etched with concern. “Be careful,” he answered, pulling me into a hug, “and be sure to tell me that you love me before you go.”
I felt any ice around my heart melt pathetically fast, and found myself hugging him back. It wasn't as good a feeling as the one I got scrambling down the drag strip, but his arms around me did make my heart skip a beat. “I think I can do that.”
Don't let nobody tell you, your life is over,
Be every color that you are,
Into the rush now,
You don't have to know how,
Know it all before you try...
There was a pleasant silence between us, him holding me close but not too tight. “Ya' know, Kev,” I said suddenly, pulling back and toying with a curl of his hair, smiling mischievously, “they say one of the best ways to get over a fear is to learn all you can about it.”
He blinked curiously at me but didn't say anything, his expression saying enough. I smirked. “Feel up to a race?”
Don't let nobody tell you,
Don't let nobody tell you,
Don't let nobody tell you your life is over,
Be every color that you are,
Into the rush now,
You don't have to know how,
Know it all before you try.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Like I said, I really liked writing this piece and, like I've also said before, I really like Ollie's character. I think she's a pretty good match for Kevin, 'cause they seem to be opposites.
Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to "Rush"
Song Used: Aly and A.J.'s "Rush"
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fifty: Rush
Puppet: Olivia Rokit
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Into your head, into your mind,
Out of your soul, race through your veins,
You can't escape, you can't escape...
This was it.
The low, rumbling hum of my machine's powerful engine was music to my ears. The leathery wheel beneath my hand, almost liquid in its smoothness against my skin, was better than even the finest silk. The smell of exhaust, gasoline, and burning rubber, hanging thick in the tense, expectant air, didn't bother me in the slightest bit; truth be told, I liked them better than any sort of perfume. The long, straight road stretching out before me was more welcome a sight than an oasis to one lost in a desert. I lick my lips and, tasting salt there, grinned.
This was it!
I was hardly even aware of the growl of the car next to me, nor of the driver inside who was undoubtedly just as eager as I was. I flexed my hand on the gearshift, familiarizing myself with it for the thousandth time since I'd started doing this not too long ago.
The first light on the tree lit up; an amber beacon that was weak and small compared to the stadium lights in the stands. I didn't tense, nor did I relax. I waited.
A second light. I smiled to myself.
A third light. Here we go.
Into your life, into your dreams,
Out of the dark, sunlight again,
You can't explain, you can't explain...
This was what I'd wanted for as long as I could remember.
When I was a little girl, I'd played Hot Wheels with the boys while all the other girls were playing with dolls or little horses. When I was a kid around nine or ten, I'd started tinkering with the insides of my numerous remote control cars; sometimes ruining them for good, other times making them much faster then they originally had been. When I got to be a teenager, I'd moved on from the toys to the real thing and earned my license as soon as possible.
I don't know what it was about cars. All I knew was that just being around them gave me a buzz I didn't feel with anything else. Getting behind the wheel of a powerful dragster like this was like coming into light after being engulfed in darkness for a long time.
It was not as if there was a great amount of time in between the lights to think about these things. In fact, there was really very little spacing as each of them lit up.
Green light!
Can you feel it, can you feel it?
Rushin' through your hair,
Rushin' through your head,
Can you feel it, can you feel it?
Like prowling tigers abruptly pouncing upon their chosen prey, the grumbling cars suddenly roared to life.
At first, we didn't go anywhere. The back wheels spun with an angry screech, losing matter against the more formidable concrete and only intensifying the smell of scorched rubber. I swore under my breath, knowing that this pause, no matter how minute, would cost us. I had to make up for lost time.
With a violent forward lurch my machine lunged furiously after our opponent, snarling its rage at being left behind. I wasn't deterred by the force, though I'd have to admit later that it surprised me a little. I left no fear and thus had no need to whiten my knuckles in an attempt to hold on to the wheel and the gearshift, and instead held them firmly but calmly.
We shot after the other, not far behind. Adrenaline raced through my veins and my heart pounded like a jackhammer, but it was all I could do to keep from laughing out loud. This was life!
Seconds felt like hours as we sped down the length of the track, which now seemed far too short. I felt every shake, every tremble of the powerful machine (though I was more inclined to call it an animal due to the fact that it felt very much alive) and was sensitive to it. It was almost as if the thing could speak to me, and it was demanding my utmost attention.
Faster, it whispered, faster...
Then it was over.
Don't let nobody tell you, your life is over,
Be every color that you are,
Into the rush now,
You don't have to know how,
Know it all before you try...
It was hard to come back down to Earth, so it was only natural that it took me a couple of seconds to actually be able to pull myself out of the car. Inspectors swarmed around us like sharks surrounding a wounded creature, chattering amongst themselves. A few of them said something to me and patted my shoulder, but I didn't really hear what they were saying.
Jesus. It was hot in there.
I slid my helmet off and swiped a red-gloved hand across my brow, drying it somewhat and smiling in satisfaction. The real, earthy feel of sweat helped drag me back into real life. “How'd I do?” I asked to no one in particular.
One of them, the young man closest to me, looked up with a little smile. “You lost,” he said coolly, “but not by much.”
Pullin' you in, spinnin' you 'round,
Lifting your feet right off the ground,
You can't believe this is happening now...
I cocked my head to one side and nodded, not really caring that I'd lost. That had been the last run, which meant that I'd gotten second place. Though some racers thought of silver as being nothing but the first loser, I was more than happy to just have made it that far.
I didn't race to win, anyway. I did it for the adrenaline rush pulsing through my veins, for the fun of seeing the looks on peoples' faces when I told them I drag raced, for the feeling of raw power that surged through all the muscles in my body.
Soccer was my competitive hobby. I strove, toiled, fussed over it. I wanted to do my absolute best and win as much as I could, and therefore put a large amount of stress on myself in order to do well. I enjoy it, but it was one of those things that would probably end up being the death of me; like if I were a smoker or a drunkard.
But with racing it was different. I just did it because I loved it, and did well because I had a natural talent for it. I didn't have to work hard at it, and could just enjoy the moment without wondering how the next race would end.
I was free behind the wheel. Racing down that track felt like flying.
I'd always said that if I was going to die young, I wanted to be on the track doing what I loved. Of course, Kevin had nearly had a heart attack the first time I'd said it (and still did every time he heard it), but there really wasn't a way for me to explain to him why. He loved music, but he wasn't going to die because of some freak accident on stage.
Can you feel it, can you feel it?
Rushin' through your hair,
Rushin' through your head,
Can you feel it, can you feel it?
I ended up stayed at the track far later then I'd meant to, and felt a rare twinge of guilt when I finally met up with Kevin. He'd brought me up there because he'd been worried that if I drove myself, I'd be overly excited after and would end up getting a speeding ticket (or worse) on the way home. He'd been up on the stands, I think, the entire time, watching and waiting for his racer chick to find a way out of the crowd and back to him.
“Hey!” I chirped brightly, giving him a hug that he gladly returned, “Sorry t' keep ya' waiting. Now you know how I feel half the time. Only thing is, my fans are a lot quieter.”
He laughed cheerfully, obviously not minding the wait. “Wanna trade?”
I giggled, still feeling like I was walking on air even though I was exhausted. That's what racing did to me; it was all I could figure. “Only if you wanna drive for me.”
The look on his face was priceless.
Don't let nobody tell you, your life is over,
Be every color that you are,
Into the rush now,
You don't have to know how,
Know it all before you try...
I took his hand in mine and started walking down toward the lot, a bounce in my step that hadn't been there yesterday. I hadn't really expected him to be enthusiastic about taking my place; he liked watching me, but it wasn't hard to see that he was worried out of his mind every time I climbed into one of those death traps. “Aw, c'mon,” I teased lightly, “I think you'd do fine!”
“I...” he hesitated, “I don't think I'd want to take your spot from you.”
“That's probably a good decision,” I replied, “'cause I don't think your fan girls would like me as much.”
He snorted. “What fan girls?”
I waved the comment away, not in the mood to be very negative. “The ones who can tell a man from the boys.”
I chuckled, feeling him puff up a bit at my side, his ego stroked and making him purr like a happy lion. I had always thought it ridiculous, the way Joe and Nick got all the attention, but wasn't especially vocal about it. For a while, neither of us said anything, and the silence was only broken once we reached Kevin's car.
“I worry about you, ya' know,” the guitarist said slowly, “when I see you out there...”
It takes you to another place,
Imagine everything you can,
All the colors start to blend,
The system overloads again...
He bit his lip and looked at me, eyes glinting with something other then the dim streetlight. “I know it sounds dumb, but I just look at you getting into that car and can't help but think, 'oh God, what if this is the last time I see Ollie alive?'”
I'd heard this before, so with a soft smile of amusement I glanced up at the dark sky. I didn't bother to look at him when I answered. “Kev, I'm not gonna lie to you; though it's pretty damn small, there's always gonna be a chance that it will be.”
His face twisted up and it looked like he couldn't decide if he was distraught or angry. “Ollie -”
“Shh,” I whispered, pressing a finger to his lips so I didn't have to hear any of his lectures, “you gotta let me explain something first.”
He blinked in begrudging understanding and I removed my hand. “What you've gotta remember is that I get the same rush from racing out there as you do soloing on stage.”
Can you feel it?
“You've said that before,” Kevin said with a hint of annoyance in his tone, taking a step back so he was out of range, “but I'm not gonna go get myself killing playing guitar anytime soon.”
I shook my head, wishing there was some way for me to explain. “So what happens when you fall off stage and break your neck?” I asked, thinking maybe I could bank on the fact that nothing was perfectly safe, “Or when you get literally get mauled by some overeager crowd?”
“None of that's ever gonna happen.” He dismissed the suggestions with an irritating wave of his tough, firm hand.
I narrowed my eyes, border lining on anger. “Are you asking me to stop?”
Something in his stance immediately changed. His muscles lost their rigidity and the flame of fierce protection simmered down into a spark, softening his face as he realized what he'd been doing. “No,” he murmured, drawing closer again and putting his hands on my shoulders, “of course not. That would be like you asking me to never play guitar again.”
Well, at least he could recognize that. “Then what is it that you want me to do?” I demanded.
He gave my shoulders a squeeze, his eyes pleading and his brow etched with concern. “Be careful,” he answered, pulling me into a hug, “and be sure to tell me that you love me before you go.”
I felt any ice around my heart melt pathetically fast, and found myself hugging him back. It wasn't as good a feeling as the one I got scrambling down the drag strip, but his arms around me did make my heart skip a beat. “I think I can do that.”
Don't let nobody tell you, your life is over,
Be every color that you are,
Into the rush now,
You don't have to know how,
Know it all before you try...
There was a pleasant silence between us, him holding me close but not too tight. “Ya' know, Kev,” I said suddenly, pulling back and toying with a curl of his hair, smiling mischievously, “they say one of the best ways to get over a fear is to learn all you can about it.”
He blinked curiously at me but didn't say anything, his expression saying enough. I smirked. “Feel up to a race?”
Don't let nobody tell you,
Don't let nobody tell you,
Don't let nobody tell you your life is over,
Be every color that you are,
Into the rush now,
You don't have to know how,
Know it all before you try.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Like I said, I really liked writing this piece and, like I've also said before, I really like Ollie's character. I think she's a pretty good match for Kevin, 'cause they seem to be opposites.
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