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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Gimme Love, 4/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Hey, guys! So I realised I forgot to explain the idea behind this story. This is part of a series I'm working on called 'Head in the Clouds' - stories that are inspired by the music of Joji. This story is loosely based off the music video for 'Gimme Love'. I couldn't make sense of the actual video cause it goes by so fast (if you watch it you'll see what I mean), but I kind of have an idea.

Thanks for listening to my TEDtalk.

Major Trigger warnings: Dementia, death, grief, homophobic slurs

-_-_-_-

2003

"Brianna, could you come here?"

I put my pen down on the kitchen table, not really minding that Grandpa was interrupting me. The studying was tiring, if anything.

Walking into his room, I found him getting up from his desk.

"Hey, Grandpa," I said.

"Brianna, do me a favour, baby. Could you read me this one chapter?" He asked, retreating to his bed.

Bit of an odd request for him. "Why? What's up?"

I picked it up, one of the many books that delved into the science and possibility of the existence of parallel universes.

"I'm just...finding it kind of hard to concentrate." He laughed to himself. He made a groaning sound as his back hit the bed.

I sat by him and read about 3 chapters before he said, "that'll do. Thanks, honey."

I got up and moved to the desk, briefly glancing at the front cover, at the main character with his telescope. Far off memories flashed in my brain. I put the book down, turning to face him.

"What are you smiling at, honey?" Grandpa asked, a smile appearing on his own face.

"I just...remember the night you told Jujubee and me about 'the other world'. We haven't stopped talking about it since." I admitted, putting the book back on his desk. "And we'd always play these games like we were there. Our lives would be so different. And just a little bit better."

"And then you found yourself wanting that in reality." Grandpa finished for me.

I was silent, but he knew he was right. "It's not that I didn't appreciate what I already had. It's just...whenever my anxiety was surfacing, or whenever someone was mean in school, or whenever I thought of my parents, I'd just...want to escape." I sat down in the chair next to his bed again, taking his hand in mine and squeezing it reassuringly. "Didn't you ever feel the same?"

Grandpa breathed out a sigh through his nose, his smiling widening. "Brie, of course, I have. All the games you and Juju played, it's called escapism. And it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Wouldn't you ever try to find one?"

"Find what?"

"I don't know. A door? A gateway to the other world?"

He didn't even need to tell me 'yes.' He had spent many years reading the books, sometimes reading them more than once, making notes and coming up with his own theories. He probably felt the same way I did. In darker times, when things didn't feel like they'd get any better, he was curious about his other-self.

I knew the answer was yes. But I liked hearing him talk about these things.

"Baby, it's something I've always wanted to do. I always...wanted to know if it was possible...to slip into that other world, find this house, and just hope and pray my wife would still be on the other side of that door. I'd kiss her hand and bring her back here. And, life would be complete." He confessed. His smile was sweet but also sad, "But you know, with old age comes difficulties. My brain ain't what it used to be. Just all these words. Sometimes, they're...foreign to me."

This was the beginning of a long year. All the signs started out small, usually, Grandpa looking out the window wondering when his wife would come back from the store and losing the ability to read.

And over time, it slowly began to escalate, getting worse with each month. So bad to the point he'd take his seat belt off at a red light and try to get out. Or he'd shout at Mom, saying she's going the wrong way. Every piece of my Grandpa was slipping away.

And it was all taking a toll on my own happiness.

"You look pretty today." Jujubee commented as we walked through the hallway.

"If you say so." That was all I could reply with.

"No, really. Your hair looks really cute like that." She tried again.

I had no idea what she was talking about. I literally pinned two pieces from the front to the back of my head. It was a half-assed attempt of trying to convince everyone I gave a fuck anymore.

"Yeah, right, Juju. I look no better than I did yesterday. Or the day before. And the day before that.

Jujubee paused for a moment, whereas I continued on. "Are you OK?"

I turned to look at her. "Yeah." I lied. "Why wouldn't I be?"

I wasn't ready for this, Jujubee concerns. The truth was I never told her about my Grandpa because then she'd want to talk about it, then I'd cry, then I'd probably go home and have a breakdown, then I'd give Mom more shit to worry about.

Judging from her knit brows, she wasn't buying it. Before she could even ask anything else, I turned back around, just wanting to get on with things and get to my next class on time. But Trevor just had to be there. He knocked me hard on the shoulder, making me drop my books and almost fall to the ground.

He quickly spun around, watching me collect my books. "Man, who put that trash there?"

I glanced at him with a scorn.

"Hey, douchebag," Jujubee stepped in front of Trevor, "I can see you're a little butt-hurt now that your sex life is dryer than a nuns vagina."

My eyes were wide now, knowing that wouldn't sit well.

"What did you fucking say to me?" Trevor raised a brow.

"You heard." Jujubee said with such spite. "Why don't you go rub one out to your Mom or something? Stop projecting all your problems onto my girl?"

Trevor scoffed a laugh. "Your girl? What are you, a couple of dykes?"

My jaw was almost on the ground. I looked around, noting the students observing as they passed by. I couldn't let them know my secret. I couldn't.

"Why? Does that make us all the more interesting?" Jujubee squinted her eyes. "Honey, don't pretend the thought of us 'dykes’ making out doesn't make an insecure guy like you hard."

A sound emitted from my throat - A panicked sound. Like a yell, one that was dragging its way up my throat, fighting to get out. The attention of everyone around was on the situation, since when? I had only become aware now of the sounds of thrill and excitement. I was internally panicking. How many people were there? Were they even looking at me?

"Not in your wildest dreams, honey." Trevor practically spat the last word before deciding he was finished. He turned and walked away.

Jujubee approached me, rolling her eyes. "God, does he know when to quit?"

But I just stared at her, pretty sure I was trembling. My eyes were still wide, and my jaw stiff.

"Brie?" She blinked.

I could feel it, the lump in my throat beginning to form, like a hard stone that was lodged in place. Blinking a few times, I held the books tighter to my chest and turned to walk away.

"Brianna, what the fuck?" Jujubee came after me.

"Juju, just...leave me the fuck alone." My voice cracked as I quickened my pace.

She didn't follow me anymore. Thank fuck. Because next thing I knew, I was in a bathroom cubicle, quietly crying. I stupidly decided to not go to class. I say stupidly because, during the last period, Denali leaned over and told me she thought they suspended me. When I asked why she would even think that, she said the rumours spread fast, that I had punched Jujubee.

Oh, high school drama.

Of course, Jujubee didn't deserve this. She was only doing her friendly duty and looking out for me. But I didn't need any more shit from Trevor. I didn't want all those eyes on me as I walked the corridors. My home life was already too much.

I wanted to hold on to my Grandpa for as long as I could. But seeing his health dwindle, it felt like someone was coming to get him. And no matter how much I wanted to hold on, they were going to take him away no matter what.

Around 7 months in, his immune system was beginning to fail. He was bedridden.

I'd sit with him for at least an hour every day, either reading to him, feeding him, or just having a long talk. I had a tendency to write down at least one sentence from each conversation like it would provide me with some comfort, like he was still there. When in reality he was...he was...

"Why the sad face, baby?"

I snapped out of my trance, blinking a few times as I looked at him. "Nothing. Just thinking."

"What happened? Did someone break your heart?" He asked, following it up with a laugh.

I let myself smile. "No, thank God. I'm just sleepy. I had a long day at school."

"That's a shame. I was gonna suggest we break out the old telescope. I bet we'd find Cassiopeia if we tried hard enough."

My mouth formed a hard line, unsure of how to respond. As much as I wanted so badly to sit out in the garden with him, he wouldn't even be able to make it there.

"You sure you're OK, Brianna?" Grandpa asked.

"Yeah, I'm just thinking." I looked away, studying my nails instead.

"Well, if it's not a heartache, I bet someones caught your eye?" He asked with a smirk.

I couldn't help but allow the corners of my lips to curve up. "Yeah, actually."

"Oooh." He cooed. "And what are they like?"

I thought for a second, debating how I should answer. To be honest or not. If I lied, would it even make a difference?

Looking at his innocent face, I decided fuck it.

"Sweet. Beautiful. The bluest eyes I've ever seen." I paused. "She's an absolute angel."

Grandpa was silent momentarily. But just as the nerves were beginning to surface, he replied, "and does she know how you feel?"

"No."

"Well, why don't you let her know?"

I took a deep breath in. "Because...I don't know if she likes me back. I don't know if she even likes girls."

"All you can do is try."

"It's not that simple," I spoke quietly. "She's...popular. She's beautiful. She's...everything that I'm not."

My eyes drifted to my hands once again. If I cried, would it even matter? Wouldn't he forget?

"Don't say that about yourself, honey." He reached a hand out and put it on mine. "You don't actually believe that, do you?"

I lifted my gaze again, looking at him with glossy eyes. My silence spoke volumes.

"Oh, no, Brianna." He said with such disappointment. "I can't believe you feel that way. Ain't you ever stopped to look at yourself?"

"No," I whispered. "I can't stand it."

"You need to. Because you are prettier than you know." His own eyes were glistening now. "You may not believe me, but someday you're gonna meet someone who will show you."

I dabbed the inner corner of my eye, "You really think that?"

"I know."

"That means a lot." I smiled.

He gave one final pat to my hand and pulled it away. "Do me a favour, honey. Could you get me some juice?"

"Sure."

I stood up and left for the kitchen.

On my way, I passed through the hall, catching a glance at my reflection. Naturally, I would have disregarded it. But I stopped and stood in front of it. And I just looked.

I wasn't immediately satisfied. But upon taking my glasses off, my opinion changed. I learned pretty quickly my eyes were the best from my facial features.

I smiled. Best not. My frown was oddly alluring. I tried smiling again, this time with teeth. But the braces just ruined the mood.

Putting my glasses on again, I almost jumped out of my skin when I felt tiny paws tap my feet. Of course, it was just Piggie. I scooped him up and looked at both of us together.

"God has favourites, Piggie. Take a wild guess out of us two who it is." I looked at his face in the mirror.

He cocked his head, looking at his own reflection like he couldn't figure out what was going on.

I carried on to the kitchen with Piggie still in my arms, poured the juice and made my way back to Grandpa's room.

I pushed open the door with my foot.

Grandpa's head quickly shot up as I walked in.

"Sorry it took so long. I - -"

"Who are you??"

I froze on the spot. "It's me."

"Roberta! Roberta, there's somebody in the fucking house!!"

My brain went into panic mode. I set the juice to the side, put Piggie out into the hall and approached the bed.

He was continuously shouting, thrashing around in the bed as if to escape. I tried grabbing his hands, reassuring him it was me, his Grandchild. We had literally just been talking.

But he only roared over the sound of my voice, trying to fight my hands off him.

"Pop! It's OK!" Mom rushed into the room. "It's just Brianna!"

I took a step back, letting her take control. He stared at me with an intense level of fear. What did he think I was going to do? Who did he think I was?

"Brie, go to your room or something. I'll calm him down." Mom commanded with a crack in her voice.

With a wavered breath, I left. The sounds of his shouts, I couldn't bear it. I had to get away, even for a little bit. I needed out.

I hurried out the front door, stuffing my arms inside my jacket sleeves, and marched down the path. I didn't even look back at the colourful house. I just wandered. Wherever my feet were going to take me, I'd be fine.

In a sense, I felt cruel, like I was selfish. Despite wanting to be around my Grandpa for as long as possible, I couldn't stand moments like these. But you'd think dealing with this for so long would have toughened me up a bit.

Not even in the slightest.

There I was, marching down the street, trying hard not to have an episode. I tried to maintain my breathing, but the fast pace in my step didn't help. My hands were clammy, not that having them in my pockets helped.

Again, I had no idea where I was going. My eyes remained fixated on the ground. Therefore I was oblivious to the person hastily approaching.

"Brianna, Jesus!"

Jujubee now stood in front of me with her hand on my shoulder. I opened my mouth to speak, but she beat me to it.

"I said your name like 5 times, girl." Jujubee dropped her hand. Her eyes looked me up and down, "What happened? You're shaking."

I was?

"I…" I tucked a strand of hair behind my hair, "I need a cigarette or something."

Jujubee dragged me to the bus shelter, sat me down on the ground like we were still children, parking our behinds wherever the fuck we wanted.

Despite the feeling of anxiety burning my insides, I did spark up a cigarette, anything to shift my thoughts from the current state of my family. Just something normal.

"Girl, are you sure that's a good idea right now?" Jujubee was itching to snatch it from my hand and toss it.

Instead, I said, "Jujubee?"

"Yeah?"

Eyes still glued to the ground, I blinked, "This is it. He's dying."

Jujubee didn't even need to ask. She knew about his dementia for months now. I had no choice but to tell her. The stress from it all got too much, and I was becoming more and more irritable. It was unfair to put her through that. I had to tell her everything.

Jujubee shuffled closer, "What happened?"

I couldn't bring myself to even tell her. Words couldn't even begin to describe the feeling. That feeling of just grabbing him by the hand, and running away as far as possible, so this sickness would just leave us alone.

I blew out a long cloud of smoke, closing my eyes as I let my chest deflate.

There was something about this moment in time. 9PM, at the bus shelter, sitting on the cold ground, smoking a cigarette, Jujubee by my side, her hand now in mine. It didn't feel real. None of it did.

Yet this wasn't foreign to me - This bus stop was the same one from my childhood, that day when baby Blair and I hid from the rain. Funny how the younger version of myself thought I was protecting her from her abusive father.

As bad of a time it was, the thought was comforting in the current moment, sitting there with Blair. The only problem I faced those days was my emotional outbursts and the emotional toll they took on my Mom. Oh, how naive I was, completely unaware of how life could get any harder.

Only 3 weeks later, Grandpa was hospitalised, his immune system reaching its lowest point. I visited him every day after school. There were more moments of forgotten memory, but it made it less frightening with Mom by my side.

One day in particular, however, he seemed in better spirits. It was as if the old him was back, just for a few hours.

"I'm going to the soda machine. You want anything, baby?" Mom stood up from her chair, pulling her purse from her bag.

"I'm good." I gave her a gracious smile.

She nodded, taking another look at my Grandpa before she even moved to the door. I could see the reluctance behind her eyes. She did this every time she left the room, no matter where she was going.

My eyes followed her as she left. Grandpa spoke, "Now that she's gone, any update on that girl?" He asked. I looked back in surprise. How he had remembered that was mind-blowing. He continued, "we haven't had a one-to-one conversation in a long time, honey. Give me an update."

I breathed a sigh out, lifting my brows briefly. "Nothing has become of it, no."

"Go get her, kiddo. You've got nothing to lose."

I smiled sadly. Easier said than done, Grandpa.

He coughed. "Lord, I'd love a cigarette right about now. Do me a favour, though; please stop smoking."

I wasn't completely shocked. He had noticed on a few occasions that he was down a cigarette. "I will." I wasn't lying. But I wasn't making any promises either.

"Brianna?" Grandpa looked at me now.

"Yeah?" I put my feet up on his bed, leaning back in my chair.

"Promise me one thing?"

"Of course."

His eyes remained on me, and he smiled briefly. "Promise me that you'll find a way to the other world. Could you do that for me?"

I had to admit, It was a huge thing to ask of someone like me. It was terrible to say, but I couldn't help but feel this was sort of selfish. Yes, he was on the brink of death, but how could he expect me to be such a miracle worker.

Instead of protesting, however, I just said, "Sure."

Two days later, he passed away.

I didn't cry at all, vowing that I would remain strong for Mom. I had already had my turn at grieving my own parents. And she was by my side for all of that.

Now it was my turn to be there for her. Throughout the whole funeral, I had my arms wrapped around her shoulders, like she had done for me throughout the years. It was a strange feeling - being the one to take care of her for a change. Her head on my chest, hand squeezing mine, it was just so hard to accept.

I almost thought she was going to crumble when they lowered his casket into the ground.

As I said before, there are two types of people in this world; those who hate the sight of their Mother crying and fucking liars.

Because, even though she was my Mother, she was his little girl. And losing a parent is losing a huge part of your life.

Everyone was invited back to the house after the funeral in the hopes the togetherness would lighten the mood.

Of course, it didn't fix everything, but it did allow us some time to breathe.

"You OK, Brianna?" Aunt Monét asked as I handed her some tea.

"I'm fine." Obviously, that was a lie.

I really did think I was doing everyone a favour by putting up the strong front. Little did I know the toll this would take on my own emotional well being. That whenever Grandpa came up in conversation, I'd run. If only I had realised that sooner.

I was afraid of questions like Monét had asked. So school would be a nightmare. Thankfully I was granted 2 weeks off.

The first week I lay in bed, watching box sets of The X Files. Pretty sure I almost gave myself a bladder infection from just laying there too long.

The second week, I finally decided to stop lying around and be useful. Mom recommended I break out the telescope one night. So I invited Jujubee over. I warned her beforehand that she was not to ask me any concerning questions or treat me any different. Of course, she was different with me. But she didn't ask any questions. We just carried on, looking up at the stars through the telescope.

The same week, I also found myself sitting in his room, feeling his presence very much there with me. So I took to reading his books out loud in the hopes I could keep his spirit entertained.

However, I only became interested in the books myself. I read one book. Then another. And another. And another. Fiction and non-fiction. All based on parallel universes. I couldn't get enough of it.

And reading turned into studying - taking notes, hypothesising, questioning.

And then I got Jujubee interested. Just 4 weeks after beginning, it was more than just a hobby. It was a prospect.

-_-_-_-

2020

"Miss. Caldwell. Miss Caldwell, ma'am."

I snapped back to reality, embarrassed that I had even blacked out at all. You'd think I'd know there were more important things at stake, now that I was in the presence of the Secretary of Defence, at a meeting in the middle of an almost empty hangar. Everyone around me, my team included, were important people. I needed them to believe I was on the same level as they were.

"Yes, the atmosphere of the other world," I said, hoping he would think I was listening.

"We're beyond that point now, actually." The General pointed out, standing with his hands behind his back. I couldn't lie. I felt intimidated by him, what with the uniform and all.

I glanced at his black badge, which matched mine. Did that mean I was a general like him now? Were we even on the same level? 'Cause when I woke up that morning, I tripped over my own feet and almost hit my head off the ground. I couldn't be on this guy's level.

"I asked if this place would be big enough for the construction of the rocket." He asked.

I looked around at the wide space. Yeah, it was huge, but when it came to constructing a rocket, that was all beyond me. Sure, it would probably take a good 3 minutes to walk from one end to the other. But was it high enough? I had no idea what I could even say to this guy. "Yeah, it's good."

I hoped it would be good.

"Then it's yours." He gave a quick smile. It didn't make me feel any less intimidated. He began pointing out different sections of the place, a small lab in one corner, offices in another, along the left wall was a cafeteria, and 4 sets of surprisingly clean bathrooms.

All this space, it was mine. And only an hour after the meeting with the General, we were already shipping equipment over.

"This is wild. You could fit two concert halls in here." Jujubee slipped an arm around my shoulders, the pair of us watching as a truck pulled into the hangar, carrying more gear.

I blew a sigh of relief out through my mouth. "I just can't believe this is happening. Like, why me, of all people? When do good things ever happen like this? Like, didn't I always say 'why do bad things happen to good people?'"

Jujubee laughed, "girl, good things DO happen to you. You have a luxury apartment in New York, you're filthy rich, you're a celebrity." She playfully punched me in the arm.

"Well, you're not wrong." I shrugged.

"You deserve every bit of this." She turned to get a better look at me. "You fought for so long to get people on board with this project. You continued on when people doubted you when they laughed. I think you deserve good things to happen to you."

I smiled bashfully, looking to the ground for a brief moment, "Aw, Juju," looking back to her, she lifted a hand and held my cheek. Naturally, I would have shied away, but not now. At this moment, I absolutely adored this bitch. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"I know. You've told me." She pinched my cheek before looking away.

Her hand fell by her side, so I took it in mine. "No, really. You think I would have continued without you here? You remember all those times I wanted to give up? All the times you called me out on my bullshit?"

"Hey, somebody had to do it." She shrugged in return yet swung my hand.

"That's very true." I looked at her for a moment longer. Only now did I notice the way her lashes fluttered when she blinked, how cute that was.

Her eyes moved around the large space again. "Think we could fit a Starbucks in here?"

I pulled my gaze away from her, also having another look around. "Girl, you could fit fucking 10 Starbucks in here." I raised a brow in her direction then. "Should I?"

She laughed as she continued to swing my hand like we were just children again. Honestly, that's what I felt like; A small child in her own Kingdom.

#rpdr fanfiction #s10 #as5 #miz cracker #jujubee #blair st clair #blair x cracker #hurt/comfort #lesbian au #high school au #angst #gimme love #grinder #tw dementia #tw death #tw grief #tw homophobic slurs

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