FicWad

A/N: I actually almost cried while I was writing this one. The lyrics don't fit really well at the end, but it was a particularly emotional bit for me, 'cause I kind of know how he feels.

Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to "Shelf"

Song Used: Jonas Brothers' "Shelf"


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Fifty-Nine: Shelf
Puppet: Cormac O'Kane


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She's such a flirt,
And I am the lonely heart,
Give it a chance,
For our love to start,
But you'll never see,
If you don't give me a shot,
To show you what I've got...

“Play for us, Mac!”

I blinked shyly at my friend. “Why?” I asked, looking for a way out of it; I never liked the fact that she knew I was into music. It seemed weird for a guy to like singing and playing guitar at all, much less be involved in choir. The other girls, her friends Izzy and Becca, smiled eagerly at me; apparently, Paige had been talking about me.

The black-haired girl gave me the routine puppy dog pout that, truth be told, I was much better at than her. “Aw! Not the face!” I cried, covering my eyes in an attempt to stop looking and allowing my heart to melt, “That's not fair!”

“Please?” She begged.

I sighed and let my hands fall back into their original positions, one on the neck of my beloved Alvarez and the other around her waist. A hesitant sigh escaping from my lips as I started to strum out a bright, Irish tune that my grandfather had taught me when I first started to play. “Fine,” I mumbled, “but only 'cause you asked.”

Truly, I probably wouldn't have played it for anyone else. Traditionally, the song was played with a fiddle or a penny whistle, but my grandfather was a practically a musical genius and adapted it. I knew the words, and I couldn't help but want to sing. “O ne'er shall I forget the night, the stars were bright above me, and gently lent their silv'ry light, when first she vowed to love me...”

I didn't mean to, but I found my eyes drawn to Paige when I played and sang. Of course, she was looking right back, her eyes glittering in that spellbinding way of hers, obviously pleased to have the extra treat of my voice and guitar. But I felt a blush bubble up into my cheeks and I quickly looked away, stilling the vibration of the strings with the meat of my hand.

“There,” I said stubbornly, refusing to play them the entire song in fear of making a fool out of myself, “I've played. Now will you please stop bugging me about it?”

I didn't always feel like this when I was around her. We'd known one another since 6th grade, and I'd only saw her as a very close, very good friend of mine. But I started feeling...well, different when I talked to her, right around the end of 8th grade. My heart felt like a live, caged bird struggling to get free whenever I saw her. It was particularly embarrassing, because my skin seemed to cry out for hers sometimes and I just...didn't know what to do. It was scary.

It was lonely. She flirted with me and made it worse, but it was unintentional. She didn't feel this way.

But it's too late to pretend,
You know me better than I know myself,
Don't take my heart and put it on a shelf,
Always someone else,
The next guy who will,
Make your cold heart melt,
I'm gonna give my love to someone else...

I watched Izzy and Becca leave, hardly even aware of the goodbye that I'd obviously given them. Paige, however, stayed. I was torn between asking her to leave so I wouldn't have to be around her, or being glad that she'd chosen to spend her time with me. I bit my lip and looked hard at the strings, forcing myself not to look at her.

“That was Irish, wasn't it?” she asked, “What's it called?”

Automatically I looked up, and instantaneously regretted it. Those clear blue eyes, that frizzy black hair, that sharp-cut face...God, she was just so pretty...

“'The Girl I Left Behind Me,'” I answered, fighting desperately to keep my body from gravitating toward her the way it wanted to, “it's an old tune that was popular during the Revolution. In Ireland they called it, 'The Rambling Laborer.'”

After taking one look at my name, it was obvious that I had a strong Irish background. How I ended up with dark hair, skin, and eyes, I'll never know, but that was beside the point. My grandparents lived in Limerick, and my parents – both of my real ones – had moved to America just before Keefe and I were born.

Paige knew that.

Paige knew everything about me. That's what happened when two lonely young people discovered a friend; they glommed onto one another, and knew the other almost better than they know themselves. Could she tell that my feelings for her had changed? Did she know I felt like my heart had been set aflame when I saw her?

No. She was going to keep crushing on that...that pop star. Nick Jonas and his older brother Joe had just recently started going to our school, and even though she couldn't, I could tell that she liked the curly-headed vocalist. I didn't understand it; I'd been her friend for so much longer. I'd spent more time and energy with her. It wasn't fair for her to be letting some stranger steal her away from me. It wasn't fair for her to take my heart and not do anything with it.

I'd considered faking a crush on a different girl in an attempt to make her jealous, but that seemed...gay, sort of. And pointless. She didn't care, anyway.

Maybe I could change that, though.

“That's not all of it, though.” I said carefully, taking in a deep breath to gather my courage.

“Yeah?” she replied, eyes glimmering still, “Play some more.”

I held your hand,
It felt like a movie,
I made some plans,
But you were already moving on,
Now I'm stuck under a rainy cloud,
But you don't seem to care,
But it's all right, 'cause it's...

I smiled. Perfect. Now I just needed to make a clever alteration to the lyrics, keep my fingers from shaking, and my voice from quivering. I started playing again, this time refusing to let my strange new feeling bother me. “Her raven hair in ringlets fair, her eyes like diamonds shining, her slender waist, her heavenly face, that leaves my heart still pining...”

I let the notes drift slowly into the air and linger around us, and with an easy, innocent movement reached out the hand I'd been strumming with. Quietly, softly, my fingers meshed with hers so smoothly that hardly either of us realized. It was like a scene in a play or a movie, when the characters are so focused on something or each other that they hardly notice the fact that their hands were joined.

God, her skin was so soft. Maybe we could do this. Maybe she could learn to return these feelings. I resisted the urge to squeeze, knowing that would get her attention and the moment would be ruined.

“Hey, guys!”

Too late.

We jumped apart, startled. I twisted around to see who had crept up on us, just to see the one person I didn't want around. Nick!

Too late to pretend,
You know me better than you know myself,
Don't take my heart and put it on a shelf, yeah,
Always someone else,
The next guy who will,
Make your cold heart melt,
I'm gonna give my love to someone else...

Of course, Paige rose from her sitting position across from me. “Hey!” she returned his greeting with so much enthusiasm that it made me feel sick to my stomach, “How's it goin'?”

“Hi.” I mumbled, fearing I may say something I'd regret later should I speak any more. She was supposed to know how I felt all the time; she always did normally. This wasn't the way it was supposed to go; she was supposed to be the best friend who falls in love with me somewhere along the way.

But no. I was the scarred one. He's the perfect one. He's better than me, smarter than me, better-looking than me. No one wanted the torn teddy bear, and Paige, however sweet and amazing she was, was no different. I was better off with a different girl.

But I didn't want a different girl. I wanted her.

I'm tired of wasting all my time,
My heart is hanging on the line,
It is me, girl, or someone else?
Please take me off the shelf...

“Didn't know you played guitar, Mac,” Nick commented, even though I refused to look up at him, “that's really cool.”

Yeah, cool. I play Irish love songs for a girl who can't tell that I'm singing about her because she's too hung up on a picture from a magazine. I thought bitterly, absently strumming the tune itself and wishing I could see that admiration glowing in her eyes just for a second longer. “Thanks.” I muttered, not really meaning it. All that effort wasted.

“So, Paige,” I could tell he wanted something from he by his tone, as well as the slight awkwardness of the situation, “I couldn't make it to class yesterday and was wondering if you have the notes we took in science.”

“Sure!” the little assistant (for that's what her name meant) answered eagerly, “We can go get them from my locker. Is that okay with you, Mac?”

She wasn't planning on coming back. I could hear it in her voice. She was going to leave, try to see if she could have some time alone with that stupid fake.

“Please stay!” I wanted to blurt out, “Please, please, please show me that I mean more to you than he does! I'm Mac, remember? The one who stood up for you when the older kids picked on you! The one who already loves you! The one who already wants you to belong to him!”

“Whatever you wanna do,” I said with a shrug, “it's fine.”

Too late to pretend,
You know me better than I know myself,
Don't take my heart and put it on a shelf...

She saw that as a perfect opportunity. “Okay,” she sounded far happier than I think she really meant to (because I didn't think she would tear at my heart in such a cruel way on purpose), “guess I'll see you after school, then.”

“Yeah,” I said, more to myself than her, “bye, Paige.”

“Bye, Mac!” Both said in unison, their footsteps already brushing against the carpet as they walked away. No sooner had they gone about ten paces did I hear Paige giggle gaily at something he'd said in a hushed tone I didn't hear, and my heart tightened so painfully that my chest felt like it was about to collapse in on itself.

I didn't bother saying goodbye to Nick. He didn't deserve it. Not after taking her from me. Not after making me feel like I was in a state of constant dreary rain, only having hope of sunlight when she was around only to have it ripped away just as quickly. It wasn't fair. She couldn't make me fall in love with her and then just...just not do anything about it!

La, la, la, la, la,
La, la, la, la, la,
Everybody!

I gazed longingly at the place she'd been sitting just a few moments before, suddenly feeling very much alone and cold. I yearned for her to change her mind and come running back to me, wrap her arms around my neck, tell me that she just figured it all out and that she wanted me, too. But how likely was any of that?

Looking at that empty space made me feel hollow. No girl would ever want to love me, would they? I was broken, battered...a trusty old dog full of a rescue center full of cute, bouncing puppies. My nose was crooked. My face was lined with scars that would never go away. The bruises underneath my clothes made it hard to hug me without hurting me.

I must've been unlovable. I had to be. If Paige, the most understanding person I'd ever met, couldn't bring herself to love me, no one could.

Surely not everyone felt like this. It wasn't normal, wasn't natural for me to pine for her so. Normal boys would get over it, go find another girl to sing songs to. They would use their charm, dazzle them with their natural foreign lilt, the one that never showed in his words until he started singing. He wouldn't waste his time aching for a girl who wouldn't give him the time of day.

But I didn't want to get over these newfound feelings so quickly. I wanted to sing her songs. I didn't want to charm or dazzle any other girls. I wanted so badly to believe that somehow, someway, she could come to return my feelings, but how could I, especially after that? She'd made her choice. Nick, 1. Cormac, a big, fat, ugly 0.

If only she could just let me show her...if only I could kiss her the way I did so often in my dreams...

With a choked sob I bowed my head, praying no one saw me break down into tears in the middle of a hallway. None of it was fair. I could only figure that I'd fallen in love with my best friend, and it was only right after I realized that it wasn't just my new hormones kicking in did she decide she didn't like her Irish boy as much as a stranger.

I cried silently and hard, salty teardrops ending up both on my poor guitar and on my lips. What was I to do? I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't make these feelings go away. My heart was hers. I didn't want it back. It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair...

I wanted to hate her for what she was doing to me, to loathe her for all the pain she was causing me just by being there, but I couldn't. I couldn't make myself hate her. I loved her too much, I guess; wanted her presence, her friendship, her...even at the cost of my heart.

I love you, Paige Waters, and I'm just begging you to love me, too.

Always someone else,
The next guy who will,
Make your cold heart melt,
I'm gonna give my love to someone else, yeah.


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A/N: Yeah, I realize that that last line is kinda from a different Jonas Brothers song. Heh. Yeah...even though the lyrics don't fit perfectly, I really like this one because of its emotional value. As said before, I know how he feels, sorta.