DD (dreamon_dreamer) wrote in misfitmuse,

All Falls Down ; Chapter One [K+]

Original Post Date: April 24, 2006
Word Count: 2150
Rating: K+ Overall, will rate specifically for certain explicit chapters
Genre: drama/romance
Category: TV, Passions
Special Notes: OK. The time has finally come for me to write a fanfic. This is coming a little ahead of schedule, so I know some ppl are prob freaking out right now, lol. But I started getting the strong urge to write some kind of Foxney Fic over the weekend...I just needed to come up with a storyline and plot. I do have one other SL in the works, but I think it's too heavy to start out with for my first one. So, the feeling was still strong in me today, therefore I spent my 1:20pm Media History class coming up with what I wanted to write ab. And it all just started to flow.
I love to go off on tangents, so I'm sure you'll notice much of that in this as the chapters reveal themselves. The orig show was just used as a jumping board. All characters/situations are subject to change.
Bear with me in these first few chapters; it'll all come together.
I see writing as therapy, so a lot of the content may be small pieces of my own life. Most ppl won't even notice, but some will, so I just wanted to state clearly that I'm putting some of myself in this work. I hope you all enjoy it. Foxney forever.

Man I promise, she's so self-conscious
She has no idea what she's doing in college
That major that she majored in don't make no money
But she won't drop, her parents will look at her funny
Now, tell me that ain't insecure
The concept of school seems so secure...

: Kanye West :

Whitney Russell Allen groaned as she sat at her desk, the laptop screen drenching her hands and face in milky light. She stared at the screen, then to her left, where a textbook lay open, along with a notebook full of scribbled shorthand. She shook her head and stared at the pile, nonchalant at best, with a dash of disdain thrown in. I don't know why I thought English would be an easy major, she thought. It was only a week into her senior year classes, and homework was already proving to be too much. Realism and the Later 19th Century shouldn't even be a course title, she thought as she yawned, slamming the book shut. There was no way any work was getting done, and there was no point in denying it. Whitney turned her attention back to her laptop, and sucked her teeth at the words screaming at her from a tiny turquoise rimmed box. Her fingers went to rapid work.

loseherself: whoa, hold on, WHY are you screaming at me?
loseherself: idk why you insist on doing that. goodness.
violently_magenta: end.of.story.
loseherself: and you're still yelling. i don't respond to harshness. so change of subject. how was the show?
violently_magenta: oh yeah, it was cool. the Dexter chicks had NO idea what they were doing up there. and idk where they got their clothes, but I hope they didnt pay for them. sucks for them if they did. clearly we won, it was no competition. you shouldve seen Lea and the poses she came up with. ridic!
loseherself: hmm. would have been nice to. but im glad it was good.
violently_magenta: ok, don't think you were successful with the subject change. what is so bad ab showing your face on campus? i promise you won't melt.

Whit couldn't help but laugh at this comment. Leave it up to Veradis to lighten her mood. It wasn't that she thought being seen would cause some type of bodily harm, or that having a nice lunch with her best friend wasn't tempting. It was just that she didn't want to. Whit twirled a strand of hair as Vera typed her next message. I have plenty of food to eat here, and I don't even have any Friday classes. Plus, there's no guarantee that we won't be joined by people I don't have any desire to see. Whit's stomach lurched at just the thought. The start to her last year of college hadn't gotten off to the start she had wanted it to, the fresh start that she needed, making her retreat even farther into the shell that had been hardening over the past 4 years. She looked again at the screen and waited to see what Vera could possibly come up with to make her want to do lunch.

violently_magenta: just one chicken caesar salad at belle's. that's all i ask. and we can share a hunk of key lime pie, that they call a slice. when's the last time you ate there? not since last spring at least. come ON! i haven't seen you for more than 2.5 seconds since we bought books last Saturday.
loseherself: and whose fault is that?? miss mutant social butterfly.
violently_magenta: ha. funny.
loseherself: lol, i thought so
violently_magenta: ANYway, thats exactly what im sayin. im tryin to right my wrongs via a good meal. my treat?
loseherself: idk V...
violently_magenta: well, DOUBLE-YOU, you need to hurry up and make up your mind! it will be FUN! what else do i have to say to you! i'm dancing as fast as i can!!!!
loseherself: lmao! you are such a dork. fine, fine. i'll go.
violently_magenta: omg, you said yes. did you say yes?
loseherself: YES, Veradis Theresa Castillo. I am having lunch with you tomorrow.
violently_magenta: wow, the full name. ok i got you. Well in that case, Whitney Russell Allen, I am much obliged to treat you to lunch tomorrow.
loseherself: haha
violently_magenta: ok, now youve gone and wasted all my energy on convincing. i need my sleep.
loseherself: wimp.
violently_magenta: yeah, whatever. you should be gettin some too. oh thats right, im talking to an owl. whats the point?
loseherself: goodnight.
violently_magenta: night! 130p tmw. loveu.

Whit smiled as she minimized the Yahoo! Instant Messenger window and opened up her Firefox browser full of tabs. She loved Vera to death; maybe this lunch was what they needed. YIM was about the only way she had been able to catch her recently. Another part to the start of the year that she wasn't happy with. Vera was the one person on campus she'd do anything for, the one friend who had lasted since freshman year. She could make Whit emerge and joke and laugh without feeling awkward or shy. Whit didn't know how she did it, but she valued it.

She hit refresh on one of her tabbed pages, bringing up her RealJournal account homepage. Serving as her outlet, her release, Whit had been writing in her rj since the summer. She had set it up on one of her first boring days at the local library branch, her summer job. And it had proven to be a good idea, taking up most of her downtime, allowing her to get lost for hours, caught up in reading other people's thoughts and seeing what they had to share. Aside from just keeping a blog recounting whatever she felt like writing about, she could also join communities, based on her interests. She had found some of the comms hilarious when she first started exploring, but now she had come to realize that people could connect over the strangest things. Exemplifying this, she clicked a link, bringing up a page full of listing upon listing of yard sale junk. Whit danced around in her chair as she perused the merchandise on the garage_sales comm, content in her hidden fetish. Whit had always had a weak spot for things found at neighborhood yard sales; rj only fed her craving, bringing the neighborhoods to her virtually. One of her summer projects was to outfit and decorate her whole new apartment with what other people dubbed junk, refurbishing what she needed to. And she had been successful; garage_sales made it all the more convenient. Veradis thought she was crazy.

In the community she found there, also lovers of everything garage sale related, Whit found solace. They joked about their hobby, they bought, they sold. They talked ab other things besides garage sales. They read each other's personal rj's and became friends, although they had never met. This was of no matter to Whit; she felt compelled to find comaraderie where she could.

"Oooooh, very cute," Whit said, glancing at a set of vintage-looking bookends.

"These are perfect. Hmmm. Only $10 for the set, they must really not care about these. And shipping and handling shouldn't be that much. But do I really need them?"

She went on to read the comments below the post before making her final decision, as she always did.

fangirl_eclectic on Sept 12th, 2005:
amazing! but i'm gonna pass. good luck!

loveme2day on Sept 12th, 2005:
oooh, i likey. but we all know who will be the first to get to these...they're right up __loseherself's alley. bet.

Whitney cracked up. It always tickled her when someone was on point about one of her potential purchases, or when she was on point with matching anotherrj-er with their purchase. It wasn't like loveme2day was off base. No sense in denying. Whit shook her head as she scrolled down to read the last comment.

foodforthesoul on Sept 12th, 2005:
wow, how long have you had these? i feel like they used to be chillin in the cleaver house. cool item.
and yeah, i can def see __loseherself being all over these.

"Haha, such a fool. The Cleaver's. Gotta love food's style; Leave It To Beaver is my show." Whit clicked the reply button.

__loseherself on Sept 13th 2005:
lol, good catch you 2. you're right, i am eyeing them. and i think with your encouragement, they are now a buy. they're gonna look great in my place!

After making the transaction, it was on to checking her email. A surprise yawn bubbled up from inside of her, catching her off guard and causing her to make a sound as she let it escape, as if she were asking it where it came from.

Seeing who her newest message was from, she cut the yawn short.

Sender - Chad Russell. Subject - Please don't delete...

Whit was a pro at second guessing, but she made it a practice to try her hardest to make sure she willed herself to go with first instincts. And her first instinct in that moment, surprisingly, was to open it. Just OPEN it, she repeated to herself. A single, unsteady click, and she stared wide-eyed at the screen, bracing herself, 2% dairy-colored light mixing with the perspiration on her brow.

i knew you would open it, i just knew it. i know i'm not suposed to be sending this, but i just had to. Ur the only one who would appreciate it. i atached some pix i took, last weekend. i knew it was wen you would be about to start college again, so you were on my mind. i hope you like them. i thinkim goin to submitt the 3rd, 5th, and last one to this contest i read ab online. maybe i could win? i dont know. but its more ab taking them anyway, rite? thats what you always used to say.
well, i wont hold u up. just check them out, ok? at the bottom. i know i dont have to explain to you how to open them, like i do...certain other people.

i miss you.

love, C.
ps-im working on my spelling, Can you tell?

Whit could barely move the mouse to scroll to the bottom. What greeted her made her break down completely. Although only 12, her little brother was one of the most gifted photographers she knew. She waited for the day she would be able to frame his first spread in National Geographic. Well, used to wait...

Attached at the bottom of Chad's email were 15 pictures, all of the local New-England landscape that fostered him, kept him safe while she was away. He had probably spent Friday through Sunday out in the woods, camping with his best friend Dexter, taking pictures on his Nikon Digital SLR, the most expensive gift he had ever gotten from his dad, and swimming in Fisher's Hole.

"'It's an investment, my boy.' That's what Dad told me. I know he was serious and I promise I'm gonna treat it like one," Chad had told Whitney, excited on the phone last Christmas.

3 of the pictures were of Whit's favorite natural occurence, no doubt taken each early evening of his weekend excursion. Peach-cherry sunsets were drizzled on 3 small thumbnails, beckoning Whitney to download and take them in in their full file size. She obeyed, and the colorful warmth of them dried the tears from her eyes.

"He really was thinking about me," she said, her voice clogged with emotion.

She couldn't believe Chad's talent, to capture moments at such perfect times, as shown in the other 12 exposures: a dragonfly landing on a thick blade of grass, 2 squirells playing tag in the trees, Dexter formed in a cannonball worthy of the military, frozen in time above Fisher's.

Her marvelling quickly turned to upset. She was mad at herself for even opening the email. But she had to, why would he send something like that with that title? What if someone were sick, or something? She had to open it, just to be sure. She had to draw the line somewhere.

But all he had wanted was her inclusion, and maybe her approval. Whit eyed the reply button, but that was it. She moved the email to a folder, marked Family.

She had to draw the line somewhere.

"You should be happy now V, now I'm tired," she muttered, pulling herself from her chair. Weariness veiled her body as she changed into an over-sized t-shirt and brushed her teeth. Coming out of the bathroom, her focus solely on her bed that seemed an ocean away, she tripped on something.

"Owww! Damnit!" She looked down, and remembered the supplies she had bought on the way home from class earlier. Leaning down and picking up the bag, she looked inside at the various tubes of paint and 2 new brushes. Whit let out a heavy sigh.

"Tomorrow, I'll use you," she said, still looking down into the bag. "I could use some painting in my life. And great, I'm talking to tubes of paint. Just great."

Whitney crawled into bed, meditating on how she wanted lunch with Vera to turn out. They sat up front, at one of the tables pushed against the front window. They were on the key lime pie, but couldn't even bare to eat between suffocating laughs. One of Chad's sunsets bowed above them in the sky outside. Slowly, sleep came.

**garage_sales is an actual LiveJournal community, the web service RealJournal is modeled after.**
Tags: [passions] all falls down, chapters, fanfic
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic