The Art Of Discretion
Arriving
[Jay's POV]
Oh God. Can I do this?
I feel Mollie's hand squeeze my shoulder reassuringly and somehow sketch the ghost of a smile onto my pale face. Tears are welling up in my eyes as we clamber into the taxi doors, and the automated button causes them to hiss shut behind us.
I look down at my zipped jacket, the white streaks engraving into my mind as I imagine the chivalrous troupe marching onstage. In my mind's eye, I see Gerard hold out his hand to the crowd.
Am I strong enough?
Mollie brushes her hair impatiently out of her eyes and stares solemnly out of the window. I follow her gaze and see the grey buildings rushing past. Many people are making their way to the same destination - not always shown by their clothes, but the air of excitement buzzing on all their faces.
The taxi driver is humming something. He's been humming to himself for a while, but this tune is familiar, soothing.
"I'm Not Okay!" I bellow suddenly, my voice echoing within the confined space of the taxi, and Mollie's head snaps around to confront my outburst.
"What the fuck?!" She proclaims, shock etched into the faint lines on her face, her eyes blazing with uncertainty, "What are you talking about, what's wrong?"
Though her mildly aggressive concern touches me, I shake my head impatiently and draw my attention back to the taxi driver, "How d'you know that song?"
In the rear mirror, I see his face for the first time. His eyes are a piercing blue, but the pupils are larger than a normal person, and as I blink, they appear to dilate in the sudden light of the afternoon.
His hair crowds most of his face, with sharp sideburns drawing attention away to his thinned face. His face rearranges into a slight smile at my incredulous delight.
"It's not just kids who listen to My Chemical Romance," he replies, twitching the wheel to his will, as the Brighton Centre finally comes into view, a small queue already snaking around the side of the bright white building. I smile at Mollie, expecting her to share in my delight of our arrival, but see to an overdose of surprise that she is frowning at the cabbie.
"We're not kids," She says curtly, her eyes narrowing as he continues to smile, "We're fully... Matured... Grown ups," I can't help but snort with laughter at the lame ending to her statement. She stares at me, her eyes wounded, and I struggle to rearrange my face.
"I can see that," I look up, my face straight now, and see that the taxi driver has pulled up and is craning his neck round to get a better view of us, "I can see you two are perfectly capable of... Dealing with things, very mature," he soothes. I pass him the cash and he stows it in a pocket, winking as he does so. "Have a good time,"
"We will," I reply as we step out of the car, already getting caught up in the atmosphere of excitement, "We definitely will,"
Oh God. Can I do this?
I feel Mollie's hand squeeze my shoulder reassuringly and somehow sketch the ghost of a smile onto my pale face. Tears are welling up in my eyes as we clamber into the taxi doors, and the automated button causes them to hiss shut behind us.
I look down at my zipped jacket, the white streaks engraving into my mind as I imagine the chivalrous troupe marching onstage. In my mind's eye, I see Gerard hold out his hand to the crowd.
Am I strong enough?
Mollie brushes her hair impatiently out of her eyes and stares solemnly out of the window. I follow her gaze and see the grey buildings rushing past. Many people are making their way to the same destination - not always shown by their clothes, but the air of excitement buzzing on all their faces.
The taxi driver is humming something. He's been humming to himself for a while, but this tune is familiar, soothing.
"I'm Not Okay!" I bellow suddenly, my voice echoing within the confined space of the taxi, and Mollie's head snaps around to confront my outburst.
"What the fuck?!" She proclaims, shock etched into the faint lines on her face, her eyes blazing with uncertainty, "What are you talking about, what's wrong?"
Though her mildly aggressive concern touches me, I shake my head impatiently and draw my attention back to the taxi driver, "How d'you know that song?"
In the rear mirror, I see his face for the first time. His eyes are a piercing blue, but the pupils are larger than a normal person, and as I blink, they appear to dilate in the sudden light of the afternoon.
His hair crowds most of his face, with sharp sideburns drawing attention away to his thinned face. His face rearranges into a slight smile at my incredulous delight.
"It's not just kids who listen to My Chemical Romance," he replies, twitching the wheel to his will, as the Brighton Centre finally comes into view, a small queue already snaking around the side of the bright white building. I smile at Mollie, expecting her to share in my delight of our arrival, but see to an overdose of surprise that she is frowning at the cabbie.
"We're not kids," She says curtly, her eyes narrowing as he continues to smile, "We're fully... Matured... Grown ups," I can't help but snort with laughter at the lame ending to her statement. She stares at me, her eyes wounded, and I struggle to rearrange my face.
"I can see that," I look up, my face straight now, and see that the taxi driver has pulled up and is craning his neck round to get a better view of us, "I can see you two are perfectly capable of... Dealing with things, very mature," he soothes. I pass him the cash and he stows it in a pocket, winking as he does so. "Have a good time,"
"We will," I reply as we step out of the car, already getting caught up in the atmosphere of excitement, "We definitely will,"
♠ ♠ ♠
Chapter By Laceration Gravity...Hope you enjoy! Comments are the sex ;)