Status: For those who might have a slight sense of deja vu- Yes, this is a remake of the original. The characters remain the same with a similar plot, but a highly different chain of events.
A Lifetime in the Nighttime
Stunned
The car keys clashed on the small coffee table in front of him as Duran sat on the sofa with a thud. He rubbed his eyes hoping to ease the agitation. He knew with out peering at his reflection in the mirror that they were blood shot. He had been up half the night and would have to wake up in another three hours to have everything ready for when he left for work. The thought of falling asleep now would be out of the question. It wasn't going to make him feel any better when he woke. Perhaps, it would actually make him feel worse. Again, Duran rubbed his eyes and sighed. Sometimes I wish I could just sink farther and farther into the cushions so that I could hide and no one would ever find me.
Slowly, he dazed off and zoned in on a picture frame across the room. It was small and people didn't even realize it was there, standing on the corner of his entertainment center. For as long as Duran had the little pewter and glass encased photo it just caught dust until he would notice it had gotten a tad too cloudy and he would take the pin from the back and remove its picture so he could polish and clear the glass front. But this time he knew he would have to take the picture out for good, yet his feet wouldn't let him rise to cross the room.
Tears welled in his eyes as he recollected where the picture was from. It was obviously of Rachel and himself, but it was more than just the two of them. More significant. It had been of the third picture they ever took together. They had about seven in total, for Duran despised how he looked in film and always refused to take pictures. In the picture they were sitting at her grandmothers orchard, under the big oak tree, with Winchester, Rachel's childhood pup. She had her hair done in soft golden curls that fell over her right shoulder and a white, floppy, white-brimmed hat. Her dress was also white with an eyelet bodice and a squiggled edge. Her sun-kissed skin looked stunning against the white summer dress. But there was Duran, the complete opposite sitting next to her laughing figure. He didn't look quite as impeccable as Rachel did, dressed in his holy jeans and a plaid button down. He felt that he looked like a lumber-jack. The only reason he kept the old photograph on display was because it explained what he couldn't use words to.
They had always been opposites. Rachel came from a poise, wealthy family. Her parents found success in a separate world: Politics. She grew up on orchards and million dollar estates all over the country and a couple over seas. She spoke with perfect enunciation and an advanced vocabulary, yet she could speak Latin like she was raised by the gods and never knew a lick of our earthly language. Duran and Rachel both knew that he could never compare to that and would never be able to support a life like that on his own. But to her, that would never matter. She loved doing charity work and helping the people that needed it most. Many times Duran wondered if he was just another charity case to her, but she proved many times that it wasn't like that.
"How could she ever love someone like me for so long?" Duran asked himself. "No wonder she broke up with me."
The tears had dried and gone but now he was beginning to feel morbidly depressed. What felt like forever while he was dreaming wide awake had turned out to only be an approximate five minutes. This is going to be a long three hours. In attempt to clear his mind, he flipped on his TV and reached for his blue slurpee in front of him. He had almost forgotten about it when he got home and while he was in the car with Rio.
Rio.
Just as his mind had drifted to Rachel, he found himself back in the car with Rio. She looked so petite in the passenger seat of his Old Faithful. When she had spotted him and caught her eyes with his in the Gas N' Go they reminded him of a young doe's; they were so wide and full of life- a future. It took him awhile for the awe to let him look elsewhere and his mouth couldn't help but water as he remembered the way she looked in her sweater, her back exposed. She moved liked a cat. She was quiet on her heels and ready to pounce on anyone. But she wouldn't attack in an evil way. She would smother you with the sweet smell of vanilla and wash over you like a wave of cool water, leaving you stunned and unable to think. But it was refreshing.
He had been driving aimlessly until he found the familiar Gas N' Go and craved his favorite cold drink. Trojan had come with him a couple of times but he had always preferred to go alone. Thankful for him, this was one of the few places he could go without the reminder of Rachel going with him. He would never of told her of a place like this. She wouldn't be caught dead in a small convenience store where people scrounged for pennies so they could buy a pack of gum or pay for their gas. But never in a million years had he imagined the little sprite to be there too.
In the car, he snapped back into reality. It wasn't right to be distracted anymore or at least for a little bit longer until his emotions cooled off. He immediately felt awful for how he ignored her. He probably made her feel uncomfortable. Instantly Duran jumped from the couch and began pacing back and forth, his mind rattling and whizzing a thousand thoughts a second. He slowly felt his mind begin to go into a frenzy and his hands soon to tremble. He hated disappointing people and he was sure that that wasn't the car ride Rio had been interested in taking with him.
Pacing back and forth, he finally began to ease off the panic and started cleaning as he did the other day at the bookstore. Duran started with the living room- dusting, vacuuming, polishing, folding, rearranging- and then moved to the kitchen where he washed all his dishes and organized his pantry. This was all he could do to cope with a crowded mind. First it was Rachel. He missed her. And loved her still. But his heartbreak was all too fresh. But then there was Rio who washed him senseless and ripped him of his hurt but he had let her down. He just knew it. Thankfully, by the time he looked at the clock again he was fifteen minutes away from walking himself right out that front door to face another day. Another day of hurt and probably letting other people down.
Slowly, he dazed off and zoned in on a picture frame across the room. It was small and people didn't even realize it was there, standing on the corner of his entertainment center. For as long as Duran had the little pewter and glass encased photo it just caught dust until he would notice it had gotten a tad too cloudy and he would take the pin from the back and remove its picture so he could polish and clear the glass front. But this time he knew he would have to take the picture out for good, yet his feet wouldn't let him rise to cross the room.
Tears welled in his eyes as he recollected where the picture was from. It was obviously of Rachel and himself, but it was more than just the two of them. More significant. It had been of the third picture they ever took together. They had about seven in total, for Duran despised how he looked in film and always refused to take pictures. In the picture they were sitting at her grandmothers orchard, under the big oak tree, with Winchester, Rachel's childhood pup. She had her hair done in soft golden curls that fell over her right shoulder and a white, floppy, white-brimmed hat. Her dress was also white with an eyelet bodice and a squiggled edge. Her sun-kissed skin looked stunning against the white summer dress. But there was Duran, the complete opposite sitting next to her laughing figure. He didn't look quite as impeccable as Rachel did, dressed in his holy jeans and a plaid button down. He felt that he looked like a lumber-jack. The only reason he kept the old photograph on display was because it explained what he couldn't use words to.
They had always been opposites. Rachel came from a poise, wealthy family. Her parents found success in a separate world: Politics. She grew up on orchards and million dollar estates all over the country and a couple over seas. She spoke with perfect enunciation and an advanced vocabulary, yet she could speak Latin like she was raised by the gods and never knew a lick of our earthly language. Duran and Rachel both knew that he could never compare to that and would never be able to support a life like that on his own. But to her, that would never matter. She loved doing charity work and helping the people that needed it most. Many times Duran wondered if he was just another charity case to her, but she proved many times that it wasn't like that.
"How could she ever love someone like me for so long?" Duran asked himself. "No wonder she broke up with me."
The tears had dried and gone but now he was beginning to feel morbidly depressed. What felt like forever while he was dreaming wide awake had turned out to only be an approximate five minutes. This is going to be a long three hours. In attempt to clear his mind, he flipped on his TV and reached for his blue slurpee in front of him. He had almost forgotten about it when he got home and while he was in the car with Rio.
Rio.
Just as his mind had drifted to Rachel, he found himself back in the car with Rio. She looked so petite in the passenger seat of his Old Faithful. When she had spotted him and caught her eyes with his in the Gas N' Go they reminded him of a young doe's; they were so wide and full of life- a future. It took him awhile for the awe to let him look elsewhere and his mouth couldn't help but water as he remembered the way she looked in her sweater, her back exposed. She moved liked a cat. She was quiet on her heels and ready to pounce on anyone. But she wouldn't attack in an evil way. She would smother you with the sweet smell of vanilla and wash over you like a wave of cool water, leaving you stunned and unable to think. But it was refreshing.
He had been driving aimlessly until he found the familiar Gas N' Go and craved his favorite cold drink. Trojan had come with him a couple of times but he had always preferred to go alone. Thankful for him, this was one of the few places he could go without the reminder of Rachel going with him. He would never of told her of a place like this. She wouldn't be caught dead in a small convenience store where people scrounged for pennies so they could buy a pack of gum or pay for their gas. But never in a million years had he imagined the little sprite to be there too.
In the car, he snapped back into reality. It wasn't right to be distracted anymore or at least for a little bit longer until his emotions cooled off. He immediately felt awful for how he ignored her. He probably made her feel uncomfortable. Instantly Duran jumped from the couch and began pacing back and forth, his mind rattling and whizzing a thousand thoughts a second. He slowly felt his mind begin to go into a frenzy and his hands soon to tremble. He hated disappointing people and he was sure that that wasn't the car ride Rio had been interested in taking with him.
Pacing back and forth, he finally began to ease off the panic and started cleaning as he did the other day at the bookstore. Duran started with the living room- dusting, vacuuming, polishing, folding, rearranging- and then moved to the kitchen where he washed all his dishes and organized his pantry. This was all he could do to cope with a crowded mind. First it was Rachel. He missed her. And loved her still. But his heartbreak was all too fresh. But then there was Rio who washed him senseless and ripped him of his hurt but he had let her down. He just knew it. Thankfully, by the time he looked at the clock again he was fifteen minutes away from walking himself right out that front door to face another day. Another day of hurt and probably letting other people down.