Hey everyone!! Welcome to Into The Fire; the new joint fic between Ocean&Atlantic and ledalo56! We're supremely excited to start this and all comments are welcomed! Please enjoy! -Bri (ledalo56) and Dana (Ocean&Atlantic)
Into The Fire
Two years; 730 days worth of time, time spent loving him. Five minutes, 30 seconds was how long it took to pour it down the drain.
Was he really all that worth it? Guilt panged through me as I glanced up at the girl sitting in the adjacent booth. She didn't deserve this, and neither did I.
I forced myself to make eye contact across the table. She looked as tortured as I felt, obvious tear tracks showing; trails I knew I mirrored.
My hazel eyes were welling up subconsciously. The silence wasn't comforting me any, but I knew saying anything was out of the question. I studied her appearance. Bri was a gorgeous girl. Blonde hair chopped off just above her shoulders, steel-blue eyes, and the figure of an swimmer. However, one pretty girl just wasn't enough, now was it?
I simply didn't understand. Had I not been good enough? What had prompted this? Had something I said driven him to this extreme? Whatever had happened...I hated it.
This was heart-breaking. My generally optimistic persona had faded away, and I was now expecting the worst. She had every right to think I was some promiscuous little punk. She had every right to lash out at me in the middle of this small Italian restaurant. I shrunk in my seat. I wanted to disappear. I knew she didn't like me. She didn't find my attempts at small talk charming. I didn't blame her. He had been hers first.
I hadn't wanted her to hate me, hadn't wanted to hate her, but at the same time, I wanted to scream at her, enforce the thought that it was all her fault. She had stolen him, left me in the dirt, unaware and lost. I picked apart the breadstick I held, shredding the soft coating and popping the air bubbles, letting it drop to the plate below, making a gentle 'thunk' in the tension-filled silence.
You have to understand, I had no intention of stealing him from her. As far I was concerned, it was all in the past. He hadn't meant so much anymore. I was starting to move on. I know that sounds ridiculous. Just starting to move on, right? I couldn't really tell you why he'd held such a big part of my heart. But I could tell you, it wasn't nearly as big as the spot Bri held for him.
The waitress took our order and I gave it softly, not taking my eyes off of Dana. I felt awful for studying her so closely, comparing our similarities and differences, but I did it anyway. She was beautiful with dark brown hair, accented with clear copper highlights that wove and sparkled in the curls. She was very obviously a soccer player, strong, but petite, standing just below me at 5' 5" and I could see why he had fallen for her. I wanted so desperately to push all memory of him away, to the farthest corner of my mind, but something was stopping me. I was missing her side of the story.
Her scrutinizing eyes pierced through my very being. I was probably cringing. Those kind of gazes had that effect on me. I sat up a little straighter though. I didn't want her to think I was recoiling. She wasn't hostile. Just curious. Curious just like I had been. We both wanted answers, and fortunately enough, our minds were fully stocked. I swished my red Mui Mui ankle boots around the floor in anticipation. Boy, was I in for it.
I sighed, unsure of how to continue. He had meant so much to me; to both of us. I had questions threatening to tumble from my lips, ready to pour before me. I knew more or less what had happened, but I wanted to know why.
Her questioning expression could've been mistaken for confusion. Maybe she was confused. I was. I didn't know how to go about this. I would never have dreamed in a million years that this would happen. But the was the harsh realities of life. I made a mess, and now I was cleaning it up. She deserved to know the truth. She deserved to know that he'd never once mentioned her.
I glanced at her hazel eyes, reading the emotions they held. I wondered if she had as many questions as I did. I secretly wondered if her special moments with him had been in empty rooms, a forgotten area backstage, behind a tour bus out of sight of the line of teenage girls. What I really wondered was if she, like me, was dying to ask how he'd pulled this off, in the clear view of millions; in plain sight of the press, of their fans, of me.
I wondered, selfishly, if he'd ever mentioned me to her. I mean, obviously he hadn't introduced me as his girlfriend or anything. That would be dim-witted. But maybe he'd brought me up faintly in a conversation. Maybe he'd accidently let my name slips through his lips when he’d meant to say hers. It hurt to think about that. The "name flub" wasn't tolerated at all in girl world. I pushed that thought to the back of my mind, when a sudden thought sent a tremor down my spine. Had everyone else known?
I vaguely remember wincing when he had told me her name: Dana. He had talked about her. Mentioned in passing that she was a fan who had won a pass backstage and had become friends with all of them. The boys had supposedly taken her to dinner that night along with the other boys’ girlfriends. Had they known? How much would he have told them? Had he told her about me? Shown her a picture? Maybe even the one he had told me he kept beside his bunk. Had he really done that? I suddenly realized the magnitude of what I no longer knew for sure. How often had he lied to me? To both of us?
Taking a deep breath, I stretched my arm across the table. “Let’s try this again.” I offered hesitantly. “I’m Dana.”
I slowly accepted the handshake, smiling carefully. “I’m Bri.” I paused. “So what’s your story?”
I shoved my straw deeper into the ice floating in my drink before responding. “You first.”
