AU Fic: In The Spotlight
Mar. 31st, 2012 03:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cloversworldIn the Spotlight
written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
au_bingo, prompt: Alt. Fandom: Musical Theater
fandom: american idol; pairing: david cook/ david archuleta (cookleta); rating: pg; approximately 1,600 words
Disclaimer: This fiction may contain real people but none of the occurrences written here are real. The entire story is made up based on the author's imagination only and for non-profitable purpose.
A/N: This is AU, not beta'ed as usual, please expect tons of mistake. This is based on the musical 'A Chorus Line'.
My AU Bingo card
Gosh, he hopes he gets it. He really, really hopes he gets the spot. David feels a bit skeptic, unsure of himself right now because the other dancers who have made it through the first two rounds of auditions are doing pretty well, better than him, he fears.
But… but he can't let that crush his hopes. He can't lose confidence, not when he needs this part, needs this job badly.
"All right." Cook's voice echoes from the auditorium's seating area. Just hearing Cook makes David's insides twist in knots. He's not sure why he decided to push through with the auditions after finding out that Cook is producing the show. "I want everyone on center stage. Let's do the whole combination, starting from the top. I want to see energy. I want to see passion." David's heart pounds with every word that flows out of Cook's mouth. "Ready. Five, six, seven, eight."
David lets his mind get lost in the beat, lets the music guide his body, lets the rhythm fill him with the energy he needs. He gives it all he's got, stretching his arms up and dropping them in two quick counts. His feet moved fluidly underneath him, taking a step to the right and two to the left and he counts, one and a two and a three and a four, in his head.
He hears a whistle before the music even stops and he halts, his arms hovering above his head. The other dancers are in the same position, some already looking over their shoulders since they all had their backs turned from the imaginary audience.
"That was great. I'll call you all back in groups of ten," Cook says and then they're being escorted off the stage.
Gosh I hope I get it. David has come this far. It will break his spirits if he doesn't make it through the last stretch.
*
They're all standing downstage, lined up like they're in front of some firing squad or something. David's too nervous he can't even count how many there are – seventeen, he thinks.
"I wonder how many he needs," Adam asks. He's been praying real hard to get the part. They all are, David supposes.
"I'm not sure," David says, ignoring the cyclone that's building up in his belly.
"They'll probably tell us now," someone says from Adam's other side and David thinks it could be Allison. He can't move his head without risking to blow chunks all over the stage.
"Okay, guys." Cook's voice had gotten soft and David can hear the exhaustion in the way his vowels curl around his tongue. "I want each of you to tell me something about yourself. Something you think I won't find in your forms here."
"He wants to what?"
"Tell him something about ourselves."
"I feel like we're in high school."
The words started to disperse like bubbles bursting in the air and David slips into his own thoughts, remembering the last time he had seen Cook. David's actually surprised he made it through another round. He had been worried that Cook might still be nursing the ache that David had caused. He hadn't meant to leave Cook, to leave L.A., but David thought back then that he had places to go. And Cook? Cook had his own dreams to fulfill and David felt he was just getting in Cook's way.
That's all in the past now. At least, that's what David hopes. What if… what if Cook's carrying a grudge against him. What if Cook hasn't left the past behind?
Someone's talking about… omigosh, did he say wet dreams? Scotty is indeed talking about his puberty. Everyone seems to fall into nostalgia. Adam's gazing up at the balcony, mind elsewhere. Carly's eyes are glazed, a wistful smile lingering on her lips.
David can almost hear their sentiments in his head. Or maybe he's hearing his own musing with Scotty's words taking him to a journey back when David was at a ripe age of twelve. Hello twelve, hello thirteen, hello love. Of course, David didn't know about love until he was seventeen, until he met Cook.
*
The next set of audition will have them perform in groups of four, except David. Cook wants to see David dance on his own. Isn't this supposed to be for a chorus line? Why does Cook want him to see him dance solo? David thinks that Cook is maybe mocking him.
David doesn't complain though. He's in no position to do that. He takes a spot offstage, stretching his legs over a ballet bar. He can feel the muscles just behind his thigh start to pull when he hears someone from the centerstage yelp then everyone's rushing to the spot.
Danny's on the floor clutching his legs, his face contorted. "What happened?" David asks and Kris is the one coherent enough to explain that Danny tripped and probably twisted his ankle.
"I didn't twist it," Danny blurts out in protest. "I just… I slipped, is all."
When a familiar voice asks, "Can you get up?" David realizes Cook's standing beside him.
"I don't know. Maybe." It's quite obvious Danny's trying too hard not to show that he's really, really in pain. Cook and Adam reach down to help him up and when Danny's on his feet, he yelps again and drops on the floor with his butt landing on the hardwood first.
"Okay." Cook shakes his head. "You did twist your ankle. Somebody get him to a hospital."
"No!" Danny nearly screams in protest. "Please, Mr. Cook. I can… can do this,"
"Sorry Danny." Cook pats him, his hand bouncing between Danny's shoulder blades. "If you're injured and it gets worse, it's going to be in my conscience if I let you through."
*
After Danny's been taken away on an ambulance, they're all asked to take a break. Maybe Cook needs one. The lines of fatigue are starting to show on his forehead.
David doesn't wander around the theater like the others. His body needs to feel the burn, needs to be stretched and bent and shaken. He finds an empty rehearsal hall. Floor-length mirrors cover one side of the wall, wooden floors glistening and the small spotlights hanging on each corner giving off a soft blue glow.
He starts with his routine, making a step, step kick and a turn, step, kick combination. It's not too hard but somehow he thinks Adam can execute it better.
"You haven't lost your touch."
Cook.
David responds by asking, "How's Danny?"
"Brooke just called from the hospital." Cook ambles inside in slow, measured strides. "She says Danny's fine but they need to keep his leg in a cast."
"Does that mean he won't be able to go through with his audition?" David feels bad for Danny. He has heard Danny wants the job desperately because he aims to help his mother pay the mortgage or something.
"Afraid so. I asked him to try out in the fall though." Cook's breathing down David's neck now. Literally. The timbre of Cook's voice is sending David's thoughts to a dangerous territory.
"That's… that's nice of you," David says, not sure if it's an appropriate response but he has to say something, sort of a distraction before stepping away, putting a considerable distance between him and Cook.
David should've known though that Cook doesn't give up too easily. He creeps behind David, hands sliding over the curve of David's hips, lips ghosting on the most sensitive spot just behind David's ear. "I missed you, you know."
"I thought you hate me." It's a struggle to keep his voice from trembling, but David manages to speak articulately enough.
"I did. For a while. But then I found out why you left."
David shifts his head so he can glance up at Cook. "You knew?"
"Mom told me."
Of course. Beth was visiting at the time and she caught David sneaking through the house like a thief in the night.
David's eyes slide down to the floor, wishing there's more to stare at than the lines and endless stretch of polished surface. "I'm sorry."
"You don't need to apologize, David. You did what you thought you had to do." Cook presses a kiss at the back of David's head, his arms coiling around David's middle. "Let's just forget about it and see if we can start anew."
"Forget about it, Cook?" The wounds may have healed, but David knows the scars will always be there. Won't forget, can't regret, what I did for love.
"For all it's worth, Arch. I've forgiven you."
David twists around to face Cook. "Promise me you won't let any of this affect your decision about the line up later."
"It won't." One corner of Cook's mouth lifts in a lopsided smile. "Besides, I'm not the only one who will decide on the final cut."
David presses his face on Cook's chest, breathing in Cook's scent. Gosh, he missed this. He missed Cook. He only lifts his head when Cook hooks a finger under his chin.
"You haven't told me why you're trying out. You're much too talented to be part of a chorus line," Cook says, the honesty in his eyes unnerves David.
"I um… I haven't gotten any solo part for the past eight months." David doesn't really know what could've gone wrong. He seems to run out of luck. "I'm desperate, Cook. I'll uh… I'll take anything."
"Okay." Cook brushes his lips against David. "But just to be fair, you really have to work hard for it." He plants another kiss, lasting longer this time, lips conveying feelings David have always thought he won't be able to experience anymore.
David parts his lips more when Cook's tongue starts prodding and the kiss deepens, like Cook's breathing life back to David, just like he did for three wonderful years. David doesn't know why he even thought of leaving this man.
*
The final cut has been made and the chorus line comprises of four boys and four girls, David included.
~fin~
written for
au_bingo, prompt: Alt. Fandom: Musical Theater fandom: american idol; pairing: david cook/ david archuleta (cookleta); rating: pg; approximately 1,600 words
Disclaimer: This fiction may contain real people but none of the occurrences written here are real. The entire story is made up based on the author's imagination only and for non-profitable purpose.
A/N: This is AU, not beta'ed as usual, please expect tons of mistake. This is based on the musical 'A Chorus Line'.
My AU Bingo card
Gosh, he hopes he gets it. He really, really hopes he gets the spot. David feels a bit skeptic, unsure of himself right now because the other dancers who have made it through the first two rounds of auditions are doing pretty well, better than him, he fears.
But… but he can't let that crush his hopes. He can't lose confidence, not when he needs this part, needs this job badly.
"All right." Cook's voice echoes from the auditorium's seating area. Just hearing Cook makes David's insides twist in knots. He's not sure why he decided to push through with the auditions after finding out that Cook is producing the show. "I want everyone on center stage. Let's do the whole combination, starting from the top. I want to see energy. I want to see passion." David's heart pounds with every word that flows out of Cook's mouth. "Ready. Five, six, seven, eight."
David lets his mind get lost in the beat, lets the music guide his body, lets the rhythm fill him with the energy he needs. He gives it all he's got, stretching his arms up and dropping them in two quick counts. His feet moved fluidly underneath him, taking a step to the right and two to the left and he counts, one and a two and a three and a four, in his head.
He hears a whistle before the music even stops and he halts, his arms hovering above his head. The other dancers are in the same position, some already looking over their shoulders since they all had their backs turned from the imaginary audience.
"That was great. I'll call you all back in groups of ten," Cook says and then they're being escorted off the stage.
Gosh I hope I get it. David has come this far. It will break his spirits if he doesn't make it through the last stretch.
*
They're all standing downstage, lined up like they're in front of some firing squad or something. David's too nervous he can't even count how many there are – seventeen, he thinks.
"I wonder how many he needs," Adam asks. He's been praying real hard to get the part. They all are, David supposes.
"I'm not sure," David says, ignoring the cyclone that's building up in his belly.
"They'll probably tell us now," someone says from Adam's other side and David thinks it could be Allison. He can't move his head without risking to blow chunks all over the stage.
"Okay, guys." Cook's voice had gotten soft and David can hear the exhaustion in the way his vowels curl around his tongue. "I want each of you to tell me something about yourself. Something you think I won't find in your forms here."
"He wants to what?"
"Tell him something about ourselves."
"I feel like we're in high school."
The words started to disperse like bubbles bursting in the air and David slips into his own thoughts, remembering the last time he had seen Cook. David's actually surprised he made it through another round. He had been worried that Cook might still be nursing the ache that David had caused. He hadn't meant to leave Cook, to leave L.A., but David thought back then that he had places to go. And Cook? Cook had his own dreams to fulfill and David felt he was just getting in Cook's way.
That's all in the past now. At least, that's what David hopes. What if… what if Cook's carrying a grudge against him. What if Cook hasn't left the past behind?
Someone's talking about… omigosh, did he say wet dreams? Scotty is indeed talking about his puberty. Everyone seems to fall into nostalgia. Adam's gazing up at the balcony, mind elsewhere. Carly's eyes are glazed, a wistful smile lingering on her lips.
David can almost hear their sentiments in his head. Or maybe he's hearing his own musing with Scotty's words taking him to a journey back when David was at a ripe age of twelve. Hello twelve, hello thirteen, hello love. Of course, David didn't know about love until he was seventeen, until he met Cook.
*
The next set of audition will have them perform in groups of four, except David. Cook wants to see David dance on his own. Isn't this supposed to be for a chorus line? Why does Cook want him to see him dance solo? David thinks that Cook is maybe mocking him.
David doesn't complain though. He's in no position to do that. He takes a spot offstage, stretching his legs over a ballet bar. He can feel the muscles just behind his thigh start to pull when he hears someone from the centerstage yelp then everyone's rushing to the spot.
Danny's on the floor clutching his legs, his face contorted. "What happened?" David asks and Kris is the one coherent enough to explain that Danny tripped and probably twisted his ankle.
"I didn't twist it," Danny blurts out in protest. "I just… I slipped, is all."
When a familiar voice asks, "Can you get up?" David realizes Cook's standing beside him.
"I don't know. Maybe." It's quite obvious Danny's trying too hard not to show that he's really, really in pain. Cook and Adam reach down to help him up and when Danny's on his feet, he yelps again and drops on the floor with his butt landing on the hardwood first.
"Okay." Cook shakes his head. "You did twist your ankle. Somebody get him to a hospital."
"No!" Danny nearly screams in protest. "Please, Mr. Cook. I can… can do this,"
"Sorry Danny." Cook pats him, his hand bouncing between Danny's shoulder blades. "If you're injured and it gets worse, it's going to be in my conscience if I let you through."
*
After Danny's been taken away on an ambulance, they're all asked to take a break. Maybe Cook needs one. The lines of fatigue are starting to show on his forehead.
David doesn't wander around the theater like the others. His body needs to feel the burn, needs to be stretched and bent and shaken. He finds an empty rehearsal hall. Floor-length mirrors cover one side of the wall, wooden floors glistening and the small spotlights hanging on each corner giving off a soft blue glow.
He starts with his routine, making a step, step kick and a turn, step, kick combination. It's not too hard but somehow he thinks Adam can execute it better.
"You haven't lost your touch."
Cook.
David responds by asking, "How's Danny?"
"Brooke just called from the hospital." Cook ambles inside in slow, measured strides. "She says Danny's fine but they need to keep his leg in a cast."
"Does that mean he won't be able to go through with his audition?" David feels bad for Danny. He has heard Danny wants the job desperately because he aims to help his mother pay the mortgage or something.
"Afraid so. I asked him to try out in the fall though." Cook's breathing down David's neck now. Literally. The timbre of Cook's voice is sending David's thoughts to a dangerous territory.
"That's… that's nice of you," David says, not sure if it's an appropriate response but he has to say something, sort of a distraction before stepping away, putting a considerable distance between him and Cook.
David should've known though that Cook doesn't give up too easily. He creeps behind David, hands sliding over the curve of David's hips, lips ghosting on the most sensitive spot just behind David's ear. "I missed you, you know."
"I thought you hate me." It's a struggle to keep his voice from trembling, but David manages to speak articulately enough.
"I did. For a while. But then I found out why you left."
David shifts his head so he can glance up at Cook. "You knew?"
"Mom told me."
Of course. Beth was visiting at the time and she caught David sneaking through the house like a thief in the night.
David's eyes slide down to the floor, wishing there's more to stare at than the lines and endless stretch of polished surface. "I'm sorry."
"You don't need to apologize, David. You did what you thought you had to do." Cook presses a kiss at the back of David's head, his arms coiling around David's middle. "Let's just forget about it and see if we can start anew."
"Forget about it, Cook?" The wounds may have healed, but David knows the scars will always be there. Won't forget, can't regret, what I did for love.
"For all it's worth, Arch. I've forgiven you."
David twists around to face Cook. "Promise me you won't let any of this affect your decision about the line up later."
"It won't." One corner of Cook's mouth lifts in a lopsided smile. "Besides, I'm not the only one who will decide on the final cut."
David presses his face on Cook's chest, breathing in Cook's scent. Gosh, he missed this. He missed Cook. He only lifts his head when Cook hooks a finger under his chin.
"You haven't told me why you're trying out. You're much too talented to be part of a chorus line," Cook says, the honesty in his eyes unnerves David.
"I um… I haven't gotten any solo part for the past eight months." David doesn't really know what could've gone wrong. He seems to run out of luck. "I'm desperate, Cook. I'll uh… I'll take anything."
"Okay." Cook brushes his lips against David. "But just to be fair, you really have to work hard for it." He plants another kiss, lasting longer this time, lips conveying feelings David have always thought he won't be able to experience anymore.
David parts his lips more when Cook's tongue starts prodding and the kiss deepens, like Cook's breathing life back to David, just like he did for three wonderful years. David doesn't know why he even thought of leaving this man.
*
The final cut has been made and the chorus line comprises of four boys and four girls, David included.
~fin~
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Date: 2012-03-31 01:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-01 10:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-31 03:10 pm (UTC)This was lovely. ;)
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Date: 2012-04-01 10:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-31 05:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-01 10:50 am (UTC)