Disclaimer: Newsies will never be mine. Sadness ensues.
This is Link. And I'm writing a depressing story to fit my depressing mood. 'Why am I in a bad mood?' you ask. One word. Mid-terms. I. Hate. Them. With a passion. So instead of studying like a good girl, I'm writing, venting my anger at the stupidity that is mid-terms. Thank you. Have fun reading, and I hope you don't get too depressed.
MEMORIES
The rain brought back memories.
Standing in the doorway, Race looked up at the sky, letting the drops roll down his face. He closed his eyes and remembered what happened in the rain…
"I'm a leader. I was born to be one," Spot boasted. When his statement met no answer, he cocked his head at his friend. His blonde hair fell into his eyes, shading his big, blue eyes. Though he smiled, his eyes held an icy undertone that most people couldn't bear to lock gazes with. Standing at barely five feet, his wiry frame seemed liable to blow away in the gentle breeze. The forest path stretched endlessly behind him.
"What do I say to that? No?" Race lifted his eyebrows. His stocky frame was covered with lean muscle that was easily overlooked. His tanned skin and black hair contrasted shockingly with Spot's fair features. An inch shorter than Spot, he met Spot's stare unflinchingly. They stood still, frozen in each other for a minute. Then Race grinned. He shoved Spot and ran off the path. Spot was quick to follow, and raced after his quarry.
At the foot of the hill, the dirt changed to water. Race plunged relentlessly into the cold river. As he crossed, he spared a glance backwards. Spot came over the ridge and slowed to a halt at the riverbed. Frowning, he paced back and forth. Race whistled, catching his friend's attention.
"Race, that's not fair!"
Race merely laughed and floated on his back.
"Race, you know –" Spot paused, clearly uncomfortable. Race laughed again. He splashed Spot and watched him cringe.
"Race!"
"Come on, Spot, the water won't hurt you."
"Race, that's not funny."
"I'm laughing."
Spot turned around and began to pick up fallen twigs and sticks from the ground. Race swum closer to watch him. Suddenly, Spot threw a branch at Race, hitting him squarely on the head. Race cried out in surprise.
"Spot, you could've taken my eye out!"
"I missed?" He looked back. "Damn."
Race swum backwards, keeping a wary eye on Spot's hand, in case another stick flew at him. Spot sat down and stuck the stick in the water, swirling it around.
"Spot, what's the deal? Just get it. I'll protect you."
Spot scoffed. "Whatever. You'd pull me down and drown me. Or maybe you'd just float next to me and laugh while I drowned myself."
Race drifted closer, still watching the stick. "Are you really that scared of water?" he said quietly. Spot's eyes darkened.
"I'm not afraid," he muttered.
"Then come in."
"No."
Race looked up from the stick and stared into Spot's eyes. "Please?"
Spot muttered something, which was drowned out by thunder. Race's eyes snapped up to clouds massing overhead. "What did you say?"
"I said I can't swim! I hate water. I don't like to wash in it, I can't stand drinking it, and I can't swim." Spot dropped the stick in the water miserably. "Just – don't tell anyone. You're the only one who knows."
As if on cue, rain started falling gently around them. Spot let out a sigh of frustration. He glared at Race.
"What?" Race asked innocently.
"This is your fault somehow. I'm not sure how you did it, but this is definitely your fault."
Race shrugged and climbed out of the water. He shivered as the wind cooled his wet clothes. Spot put a hesitant hand on Race's shoulder. The look on his face was different somehow, softer. Race didn't resist as Spot pulled him close to his body, getting his own clothes wet in the process. Race rested his head on Spot's chest, listening to his heartbeat. They stayed close together, waiting for the rain to pass.
"This is… nice," Spot said awkwardly.
Race tilted his head up. "I thought you hated the rain."
Spot shrugged. "I could get used to this."
Race leaned over the railing, watching his dinner fall to the ground. His throat burned with stomach acid. He righted himself, looking around for something to cool his throat. He found, to his surprise, a glass of plain water being held out. He blinked at the blurry face, taking the cup.
"Thanks," he said.
"You need it more than I do," the voice said.
"Would you ever need it more than me?"
"Sure, just not right now." Race smiled. Spot wouldn't drink the water if his life depended on it.
"Liar."
"So what?" Race's vision cleared slightly, and he watched as Spot gazed into the distance. He could hear the music coming from the house and the chatter of too many people. No one came out to the patio. Spot was drunk, he could see, but still coherent, which was more than he could say for himself.
"Spot?"
"Hm?" He didn't look at Race.
"Is it cold out here, or is it just me?"
"It's going to rain."
"What?"
Spot pointed into the distance, where thick black thunderclouds rolled their way toward them. He sighed.
Race scooted his chair closer to Spot's. Leaning his elbows on the rail, he placed his chin in his hands. Spot laughed softly.
"What?" Race said.
"You look really hot like that."
A water drop hit Spot on the nose, forcing him to blink. Race smiled. "You look hot like that."
The water misted around them. Neither noticed. Spot leaned in, closing his eyes. Race didn't move, afraid of what he knew was going to happen, yet excited at the same time. He closed his eyes as Spot came closer. He felt a light brush on his lips. Opening his eyes, he saw Spot right in front of him, biting his lip timidly. His long eyelashes sparkled with mist, and made his eyes seem innocent, for once.
"I'm sorry," he said. Race felt his warm breath play across his cheeks.
"For what?"
"Race, are you drunk?"
Race pulled away. "Yes, and if that's why you're doing this to me, don't." He crossed his arms and turned away. He felt Spot's hand wrap around his chin.
"Can I do this?" he breathed in Race's ear. Turning his face towards him, Spot kissed Race fully on the mouth. He lingered there for a while, savoring the taste of Race's mouth. Race licked his lips.
"Yes, you can do that all you want."
Spot kissed him again.
Race looked out the window, his breath fogging up the pane. He wondered why Spot was so late. Glancing at his watch, he grimaced. Spot was never this late. Sighing, he pulled on a coat and trudged out into the rain. He'd hoped he wouldn't have to get wet, but that obviously wasn't going to happen. Walking the few blocks to Spot's house, he mentally slapped himself. He should've called before walking out in the rain. Spot probably got hung up and would be late with a perfectly good reason. Cars sped by, splashing him with rain water.
Race felt the wind swirl around him. He pulled his coat tighter around his body. Then in the distance, he could see a figure, head bent against the wind, coming toward him. As the person approached, he saw who it was.
"Spot!" He looked up. Shoving something in his own coat, Spot raised his hand to wave. A car rushed by. One window rolled down, revealing a shiny barrel of a gun. Race watched in disbelief as the gun discharged once, twice. Spot's eyes widened in pain, but he made no sound. Slowly, he crumpled to the ground, the car leaving without a word. Race hurried over to him.
"Spot, are you okay?"
Spot coughed up blood. "Does it look like I'm okay?"
"Oh, Spot, I'm sorry," Race said, tears coming to his eyes. Spot lifted a shaky hand to wipe them away.
"Please don't cry, Race. I'm okay. Really." He coughed, sending blood flying in the air. A few spots landed on Race's shirt. Race bit his lip.
"You'll be fine, Spot. You can't die."
"You're right. I won't die. Just stay here. The rain feels so good…" He closed his eyes.
"Spot?" Race said, alarmed.
Spot's eyes flew open. "What?"
"You said you liked the rain."
Spot smiled painfully. He struggled to lift his head. Race slid his hand under Spot's head and propped it up. Spot took a shaky breath.
"I know. I think about you every time it rains. And I like you," Spot said. "A lot."
Race smiled, turning his head so Spot wouldn't see the fresh tears in his eyes. Blinking them away, he leaned down and kissed Spot on the mouth. Spot leaned into it, trying to ignore the intense pain in his chest and his slowly numbing legs. He couldn't bear to tell Race that he wouldn't make it.
He could feel the pain easing. He closed his eyes, hoping that he would feel better if he rested for a bit. The darkness comforted him. The pain was gone. He let out a sigh of relief. His sigh hitched.
He heard Race sobbing and screaming his name: Spot, Spot Spot, SPOT! SP-
And then the screaming stopped.
The rain brought back so many memories.
Standing in the doorway, Race looked up and watched the clouds roll by, letting the drops roll down his face, mingling with his tears. He closed his eyes, bidding the tears to go away, but they continued to flow.
The rain brought back memories.