(no subject)

[chucks-arecomfy.livejournal.com]

Title: Shattered
Author: chucks_arecomfy
Pairing: Dom/Billy...
Rating: PG13 (for mass confusion - and not in a humorous way)
Summary: When I’m alone sometimes, I try to understand...what things have meaning?" ::Dum Dums::
Disclaimer: I don't own these guys. It's not real, or at least I suppose not.
Author's Notes: This is a bit confusing. I just dare you to read it and tell me you almost understand it. Because almost understanding, is almost the same as fully understanding...right?



You’re a reckless excuse for empathy.

In that old blue shirt, covering the top of your too-loose pair of worn khaki cutoffs, you almost seem like you could understand anything. Almost. I watch as your white cotton socks slide across the wood floor. If you’d have lost the khakis at that moment in exchange for a pair of dark shades, I might have just mistaken you for Tom Cruise. God help me.

Once upon a time, life seemed as simple between us as asking, “hey, is black really a color?” But now, we’ve grown. Things have changed. People, places…fuck…entire lives have changed. And ceased to exist.

My eyes follow the tanned muscles of your body. I watch them ripple as they move to pick up the refinished Fender Strat from its guitar rest. Was I right to teach you how to play? Long, de-ringed fingers sliding back and forth repetitively across the strings, diligently making their mark: is this the kind of impression that I left on you?

I feel a pang in my heart…in my soul…at the thought. Gazing down at my bare arm, tracing the thin white lines once put there with such precision, such painstaking hurt: is this the kind of impression that you left on me?

The pounding realization that it should have been, is but a dull thud against me now. Like hail that melts before it reaches the ground. Metaphorically speaking, that is.

Sound drifts from the next room as the first few notes are picked out slowly on the classic six string. My hand shifts toward the photo frame on the table next to me. We’re together in the picture, with our friends, our true family…before everything went downhill…before everything that changed was finalized.

I ponder on it all: life, love, loss… And I wonder what comes out of it in the end. This. This is what spawns from an enlightened life darkened by the over looming shadow of tomorrow.

The photo frame has been lying on the table for months.

Shattered.

Comments

[begiled.livejournal.com]

i get a sixth sense feeling from this....

[piratesorka.livejournal.com]

Okay I'm utterly lost. Was that your intention? Billy looking at Dom right?

[chucks-arecomfy.livejournal.com]

this line almost broke me.. can i use it on an icon or graphic.

Aw...sure dude.

And as for writing more, does this mean it made sense to you? Because that would make a grand total so far of:

1 person that commented

...that actually understood what they read.

My writing is sometimes weird like that.

*hugs*

Thanks for commenting.

[chucks-arecomfy.livejournal.com]

hehe.

Not exactly, but then again I didn't expect everyone to understand.

It even confused me when I was writing it.

o.O

[chucks-arecomfy.livejournal.com]

Yeah...

I suppose it sort of does give that impression at points.

::shrugs::

[chucks-arecomfy.livejournal.com]

::steps back::

Dude. I wasn't even completely sure if that was what I meant when I was writing it, but it was. My underlying sense of dramatic!slash definitely ensued in this case.

Though I have to say...your analysis was probably more well thought out than the whole fic!

^.^

I was wondering if anyone would pick up on the fact that Dom and Billy never interacted...that perhaps Dom didn't even know Billy was there. Because really, Billy wasn't there. Not to Dom. To Dom and the rest of the world, William Boyd was dead.

And the picture...

That played a major role in the fic, simply because it ties into so much of what Billy is trying to say through his thoughts.

The idea that the photo was taken of Dom and Billy, along with their friends (friends so close they considered them family), and that the photo and its frame had been lying on the table for months: shattered ... that is most definitely a star actor in this twisted little play on life.

The shattering in its entirety obviously represents some kind of seperation or abrupt ending. In this case it meant both.

You were right to assume that the rest of the world would have cast them away for their love of each other...if the world had ever found. But the world never did.

See, where you are wrong in assuming, is when you say that their friends still cared for them.

[foot note] "...But now, we’ve grown. Things have changed. People, places…fuck…entire lives have changed. And ceased to exist...

In this part of the fic it is described...(though however underlying it may seem)...that people have changed. More specifically, Dom, Billy and their friends.

Change came through Dom and Billy coming out to their friends...and their friends rejecting them.

From there on out you are right on target:

"...Dom resented it, and possibly blamed billy for the way everyone reacted, all the while ignoring the pain billy himself was going through..."

In the end, Billy's pain led to his own demise, and in turn led to the point in time in which this fic takes place.

So...make sense?

Did I say to much?

::laughs nervously::

Sorry, I do that a lot sometimes. I just couldn't help myself. Your comment was too tempting.

Thanks for keeping me inspired.

*hugs you tight*

[chucks-arecomfy.livejournal.com]

Thanks dude!

::scurries off to add you back::

[EDIT] Hmm...just an after thought...but I think my actual explanation of the fic ended up being longer than the fic itself.

*laughs*

What does this say about me?

[dodgypossum.livejournal.com]

Really like this, though reading through the comments can say that I was way off. In the end it almost felt like Billy was a ghost, do you know what I mean?

[chucks-arecomfy.livejournal.com]

Heh.

Well...he sort of was a ghost.

The whole 'being dead' thing entitled him to that...even more so because of the reason he died.