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fakingitfanfiction · 7 years

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Her Latest Flame Chapter 15: Giving Up the Ghost

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It takes you all of thirty seconds to decide, another twenty to make the call and so that’s less than a minute and then…

Well, then there’s nothing to do but wait and let’s face it, you’re fuck all at that. But, even though it’s the longest ten minutes of your life, you do manage to spend all 600 seconds of it not doing anything to actively making this any worse, so at least you’ve got that going for you.

A win’s a win, right? No matter how small.

You’re about to crack, about ten more seconds from losing your nerve and turning right around, walking right back into the diner and right up to Reagan and putting your lips right on hers and yes, that is an awful lot of rights and yes, you know they’re all mostly wrongs, but it’s been ten minutes with no Reagan and no Sophie, neither of them looking for you, and that's left you alone with just your thoughts and those are about the worst fucking company you can imagine.

You used to think no one could have more insane plans per minute than Karma.

Oh God, were you wrong.

Your hand is on the back door, the one leading from the break room to the alley and you know you’re on the wrong side of it, but that hand… it’s pressed against the door, holding it shut cause apparently some part of you still has some fucking sense but that sense is just about worn thin, like barely frozen ice you’re about to fall right the fuck through and that’s when you hear it, the sound of your savior, the familiar rumble of your mother’s engine.

Her car’s engine. You haven’t heard her engine rumble since the last time Bruce came back to Austin to visit Lauren and, as Farrah put it, “these things just… happen” and yes, you do realize now that these things do indeed just happen.

And you realize even more than you’d like, right now, in this so very rumbling (the car) and stumbling (you) (that’s all that you’ve been doing for what seems like forever now) and barely holding it together - and, in the case of that door, shut - moment, that you are far far far more like your mother than either of you ever imagined.

Once upon a time, that might have been a good thing.

There’s no reason - except sentiment and guilt a heart not quite as broken as it should be and yup, you are just so her - for Farrah to still be driving that big old fucking boat (a Goddamned yacht) of a car that Bruce bought her in those last few months of their marriage. It was all circling the drain by then. Her affair with your father (and yes, that’s as odd to think as it is to say) coupled with Bruce’s wild all or nothing homerun swings at proving… something… about his manhood or his prowess or some such macho bullshit (hence the yacht) was nothing short of a walking, talking, nonstop disaster (Epic Fail would have been kind) and it was all you and Lauren could do to, somehow, sometimes, look away.

“It’s like a car wreck,” you said. “Like a ten car pile up and you’re so worried someone might be dead, but you can’t stop looking and wondering and then… you’re almost disappointed when they’re not.”

Lauren nodded and watched - with horror and fear and rapt attention - as Farrah tried, and mostly failed, to appear something close to grateful or happy or anything other than the oh my God, why? she was feeling, but not saying, as Bruce gave her the grand tour of her new wheels.

The tour lasted like twenty minutes and you swear that was just the time it took to walk from one end of the fucking thing to the other and did someone say overcompensation?

“Sometimes,” Lauren muttered, turning to go back in the house (the one she was increasingly concerned wouldn’t be hers much longer), “it’s time to quit the CPR and just give up the ghost.”

Sometimes, she said, it’s time for the head to tell the heart what it already knows.

Dead is dead. And there ain’t no coming back.

Lauren, you’ve decided, wasn’t wrong. (Like that’s something new.) And, you know that your call to make… well… the call (to your mother) and your hand pressing shut on the door (to the diner) (to Reagan) is your head talking to your heart.

You’re just not sure it’s listening yet.

(Actually, you're absolutely fukcing positive it isn’t but you’re equally as not sure you want it to and yes, that’s as confusing as it sounds and you know it must mean something when all of this shit with Reagan and Sophie and Reagan and Sophie is all so royally fucked up that it’s actually enough to make you miss Karma and her mixed like a Long Island Ice Tea signals.)

(It means something.) (God help you if you have the first fucking clue what.)

You watch as Farrah squeezes the yacht down the alley and alongside you and you’re diving into the passenger seat almost before she’s even had time to slow down, not that the she’s actually going, you know, fast. For all it’s size and power, the yacht goes zero to sixty in about a fucking week but even as slow as it is, it still takes a good four or five more feet before your mother is able to actually bring the beast to a complete stop.

Farrah clutches the wheel and lets out a long shuddering breath as the brakes squeal so loudly you’re sure they heard them in Dallas (or, you know, behind that door that’s still not opening even though you’re not holding shut anymore.) Since the damn thing’s not moving anymore and she needs a moment to collect herself again - now your mother is also turning, which means, unfortunately, taking a good long look at you.

And if the long slow sigh isn’t a tip off how that she doesn’t like what she sees… well… it really is. You’ve been hearing that sigh from Farrah for years and yes, you’re used to it, but let’s face facts here. There’s a metric fuckload of things you’re used to.

Sophie’s crappy coffee. Karma’s two am drunk texts. Sophie’s snoring. Lauren’s looks (you even have an alphabetical list of what every one of them means.) Sophie’s habit of brushing her teeth with your toothbrush, Sophie’s incessant need to play that fucking Lola Montez song every time some new girl turns out not to be the girl, Sophie’s borderline obsession with finding a way to use the dancing lady emoji in every text conversation.

You’re sensing a pattern here.

(Besides the pattern of your roomie being somewhat nuts.) (Takes one to fucking know one.)

And yes, that pattern - the real one - is that you are used to a ton of things and now damn near every one of them feels like a thousand tiny knives in your heart and yes that fucking sigh from your mother is one of those.

Farrah is your OG. She was the first one you let down, the first one you failed. Clearly, not the last, but that’s not the point right this second.

She reaches out - the mother in her still seeing you as a tiny, as her little girl, even if you’re, you know, a grown up now (supposedly) - her hand hovering in the air just above your eye and it’s like you can feel the gentle brush of her fingers coursing through the air and you’ve got no earthly idea how you manage to not flinch, to not pull away.

“It looks worse than it is,” you mumble, your eyes unable to meet hers and that little lie is really just for you, cause this is Farrah we’re talking about.

She can always see your truth for the bullshit it is. At least when she wants to.

Her hand drops back to the seat between you and you let out your own slow, staggered breath, one that you hadn’t realized you were holding in. “You’ll want to ice that,” she says, “when you get back to the dorm. Before the swelling really sets in.” And then her hand is back on the wheel and the beastly yacht is slowly working its way to the other end of the alley.

The dorm. The dorm.

Well fuck.

Every inch the yacht chews up and spits out is one inch and then two and then six and then a whole fucking foot and 5,280 of those makes a mile and like ten of those makes a spot in the parking lot outside your dorm.

Which is, you know, not just yours.

How that particular thought didn’t occur to you till just now, well, who the fuck knows? Sure, you have some other… things… on your mind, but let’s not bullshit here, OK? Those other things? Like 99.9999995 percent Reagan - and 99.9999994 percent of those thoughts involve her with far less than 100 percent of her clothes - and like… the rest, which is more maths than you can handle right now are all Sophie, so maybe that explains how the whole dorm thing slipped through the cracks.

And oh, how you wish there was a crack or two you could slip through right now.

Farrah doesn’t say anything else - and neither do you, not until you hit the highway and there’s enough distance between you and… them… that you feel you can breathe again - and you can tell, surprisingly, that neither of you even wants to say anything.

You’d expected a lecture or, at the very least, a stern talking to. But Farrah, you realize, has come to the exact same conclusion you did in the ten, fifteen, twenty seconds before you made the call. The damage has been done. And there’s nothing you can do, no words you can say, no Harry Potter spell or crazy monkeys with typewriters that will even begin to come close to undoing it.

You’ve made your bed - and it’s in the fucking dorm - and now you’ve gotta lie in it. (And yes, lie is the right fucking word.)

Unless… maybe you don’t.

The idea comes fast and hard (yes, like Reagan did when you did that… thing… with your tongue and your hands and oh, why can’t you stop thinking about that?)

(Dumbest. Fucking. Question. Ever.)

You shove those thoughts away (for now) and focus on the idea, the one that seems so simple and easy and perfect that you can’t believe you didn’t think of it before now. It’s the oh so you solution.

It’s running. Except, sort of, running to instead of away, or at least you can claim it is and you’re the only one who can call you on that bullshit and you figure you’ve got at least… a week, seven days… before you’ll do that.

You don’t look at Farrah as you speak, focusing instead at the white lines counting down every one of those 52,800 feet. “So,” you say, as the car shudders its way onto the highway and the air returns to your lungs for the first time since you saw your phone in Sophie’s hand. “I was thinking… I kind of miss you. And home. And so maybe…”

Farrah doesn’t give you an answer. But when she exits the highway some 15, 840 feet sooner than she should, well, that tells you all you need to know.

Home is where the heart is. Or, you know, where it hides.

#faking it #faking it fanfiction #reamy #oc #update #submission #secret-monkey #secretmonkey #Her Latest Flame

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haamuressu · 7 years

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heyhey 18-81

duude are you kidding that’s so many (THANK U) (also im gonna put this under a link bc no one likes scrolling long posts)

18: Are they a relative? (the question 17 was about my 1st phone contact)

I’m a proper family girl and my 1st phone contact is my mom. funnily enough also the person I send the most amount of messages/make the most amount of calls

19: Would you ever consider getting back together with any of your exes?

”Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future. “ - John F. Kennedy. (in other words: Nope)

20: When did you last talk to the last person you shared a kiss with?

a couple of hours ago lol

21: If you knew you had the right person, would you marry them today?

fuck no, I really hate the idea of marrying super young. I mean everyone else can live their life like they please but I don’t feel like settling down at 17 is the route I want to take. no sir

22: Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

sure I have no regrets (that’s a blatant lie, I regret like 90% of my life but the last person I kissed and/or kissing them is surprisingly not on that list of regrets)

23: How many bracelets do you have on your wrists right now?

nada, I don’t really wear bracelets

24: Is there a certain quote you live by?

”you need to hold tight to whatever gets you through the night” from the true lives of the fabulous killjoys comic.

25: What’s on your mind?

I’m really sore allover because I’ve been working out again and my body is screaming for mercy so that, basically

26: Do you have any tattoos?

two stick’n’pokes yea

27: What is your favorite color?

changes all the time but currently green or yellow probably. or black which is just always good

28: Next time you will kiss someone on the lips?

man idk realistically speaking probably the next time I’m drunk. that’s a habit of mine I really need to get rid of

29: Who are you texting?

not anyone at the moment

30: Think to the last person you kissed, have you ever kissed them on a couch?

I genuinely do not remember . probably ? probably not? I don’t...ok neither of us owns a couch so logically speaking it’s unlikely

31: Have you ever had the feeling something bad was going to happen and you were right?

I predicted my great grandmother’s death when I was eight even tho I had no way of knowing/guessing that she had passed. I know that this isn’t exactly what the question was implying but this came to mind and I thought I’d share

32: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex you can talk to?

a couple and I really see no issue with that whatsoever, I’ve always had friends of all genders and it has not been a big deal for me

33: Do you think anyone has feelings for you?

gosh I really hope that no one has that low standards seriously (bless their mislead heart if so)

34: Has anyone ever told you you have pretty eyes?

I constantly hear that from people. brown eyes aren’t that common with finns so idk

35: Say the last person you kissed was kissing someone right in front of you?

I would probably be doing awkward finger guns at their general direction and/or figuring out a way to smoothly excuse myself from the situation bc who the hell wants to sit around and watch two people make out? the point here is that I wouldnt be upset

36: Were you single on Valentines Day?

single, not ready to mingle

37: Are you friends with the last person you kissed?

a lot of questions related to that. but yes in case you haven’t figured that out

38: What do your friends call you?

just rea, sometimes my birth name or ressu, rebe or just..nerd

39: Has anyone upset you in the last week?

I’m get upset approximately fifteen times a day so yes probably

40: Have you ever cried over a text?

oh maaaaaaaaaaaan have I

41: Where’s your last bruise located?

arm

42: What is it from?

no comment lol

43: Last time you wanted to be away from somewhere really bad?

had a shit night at tuesday and threw that typical “I DONT WANNA BE HERE” temper tantrum about my school and campus lol

44: Who was the last person you were on the phone with?

my grandma

45: Do you have a favourite pair of shoes?

yes dear god my combat boots are my everything

46: Do you wear hats if your having a bad hair day?

I might wear a beanie but I don’t really suit any kind of hats (fun fact I used to semi-ironically wear a fedora bc patrick stump was doing it in 2013. glad I got over that)

47: Would you ever go bald if it was the style?

I have shaved my head but it wasn’t Bald bald and nah nope wouldn’t do it again, looking back I now realize that I looked like a fat egg

48: Do you make supper for your family?

rarely but sometimes and I usually fuck something up

49: Does your bedroom have a door?

I’m really sorry for anyone whose door doesn’t

50: Top 3 web-pages?

I’m a youtube addict and also this hellhole is kinda cool. what else..I mean there are so many man

51: Do you know anyone who hates shopping?

my mom

52: Does anything on your body hurt?

better question rn would be “does anything on your body Not hurt?”

53: Are goodbyes hard for you?

depends. like seriously I’m simultaneously very skilled at throwing stuff over my shoulder and never looking but also I’m really talented at never getting over things

54: What was the last beverage you spilled on yourself?

coffee, surprisingly

55: How is your hair?

good, thanks for asking

56: What do you usually do first in the morning?

answered!

57: Do you think two people can last forever?

dan and phil probably can so why not anyone else (sorry that was cringey but also...it’s true. fight me)

58: Think back to January 2007, were you single?

I was eight so unless I had an elementary school datemate which I don’t recall then proooobably not

59: Green or purple grapes?

greengreengreengreen

60: When’s the next time you will give someone a BIG hug?

idk I’m really deprived of human touch come here and I’ll give you one right now

61: Do you wish you were somewhere else right now?

not really unless we’re speaking generally just life, then I’m gonna go with maybe a nice coffin underground yes thank u

I have answered 62-69!

70: How many windows are open on your computer?

nine atm

71: How many fingers do you have?

this is such an ominous question lmao ...all of them. and I’d like to keep them, thank you

72: What is your ringtone?

I have no idea my phone is always on mute. probably the standard one then

73: How old will you be in 5 months?

18 fukc what the hell I’m going to be technically an adult that’s hilarious

74: Where is your Mum right now?

asleep , I hope. in her bedroom a couple of walls behind me

75: Why aren’t you with the person you were first in love with or almost in love?

error 303: too personal, not comfortable with processing data

76: Have you held hands with somebody in the past three days?

nah I’ve mostly been alone

77: Are you friends with the people you were friends with two years ago?

a few of them but not very many

78: Do you remember who you had a crush on in year 7?

this some american shit I don’t understand...what does year seven mean...

79: Is there anyone you know with the name Mike?

nah altho I know a few people called Mikko which is probably like the finnish equivalent of mike

80: Have you ever fallen asleep in someones arms?

I guess ?

81: How many people have you liked in the past three months?

in this economy? are you kidding, robert.

thank you sm for asking !!!

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