cloversworld (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cloversworld) wrote2009-02-14 05:12 pm
cloversworld) wrote2009-02-14 05:12 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Regrets
Title:Regrets, 1/1
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
clover71
Pairing: Cook/ Archie
Rating: PG-13
Description: A story that takes place around eight years after AI season 7.
Summary: David Archuleta reflects on his life experiences, wondering whether he will, someday, regret the choices he had made.
Disclaimer:
1) Please note that this is purely fiction and none of the contents are real except for some of the characters used in this story.
2) Most characters used are based on real people but the details within do not purposely imply occurrences in real life; thus, anything here that concurs with real events may be completely coincidental.
3) This fic is created based solely on the imagination of the author and for non-profitable purpose.
4) Some establishments and/or organizations used in the story are existent but in no way owned by or connected with the author. Everything written in line with those establishments/ organizations are fictitious and are only created by the writer.
Author's notes: This fic sat in my PC unfinished and forgotten since, October last year, I think. It had been so long I forgot already. Anyway, I had no intention of completing this because the idea I had for the ending clearly calls for a sequel and at the time I started this, I had no clue what the sequel would be about. But I suddenly came up with an idea for it two days ago so I was impelled to finish this fic and re-write some of the parts I've written. I wasn't so much in the mood when I worked on this so the ambiance of this fic would be totally boring. But I just needed to write this because this would launch the new fic idea that formed in my head. This was not beta'ed so this would naturally have tons of grammar and spelling mistakes. Again, written during a dull moment, so fic may reflect dullness.
ETA: I forgot to point out that the song lyrics mentioned in this fic is from the song Break It To Me Gently by Angela Bofill
~ start ~
“David? Are You Coming?” Cook’s voice suddenly brought you to reality. You turned to him and immediately saw his hopeful expression. He stood there waiting for you to come to him. But when you didn’t move, he cleared his throat and said, “I mean, are we on the same flight?”
It was then you realized that you would be going on your separate ways. “Uhm… I don’t think so,” you told him as you held the tears that welled up in your eyes. And gosh, it was even more difficult to fight it when he suddenly threw his arms around you and pulled you close, hugging you as tightly as possible. You drowned out the ‘awwws’ from the people around you and let yourself get lost in his embrace. Is this it? You thought. Is this good-bye? You wished that word never existed. You bit on your lower lip to prevent the tears from falling.
“I’ll miss you. So much,” Cook whispered. And giving you one final squeeze, he said, “I love you. Remember that.”
“I love you too,” you felt the words slip out of your mouth so naturally. Because that was the truth. You do love him.
When he finally let go, you realized that you missed him already. And gosh again, how lame could you be to be crying in front of all those people? So you held back your tears as you watched him walk away. You watched him as he waved at the people around you. And before he even disappeared behind the wall that separated the platform from the backstage area, he looked at you one last time and you saw the love that he had selflessly showed you for the past months in his eyes.
As soon as you got back to your hotel, you quickly packed. And as you rushed out with your dad to catch your flight back to Utah, it was then it hit you. You felt it heavy in your heart because you knew that the uncertainty of being able to spend time with Cook alone grew by the second. You remembered not being entirely sad during the last show of American Idol tour in Tulsa because you knew you would be seeing him again in less than a week. You were sad to be parted from your other friends, of course, but the thought of being with Cook again was what kept you strong.
Now that the Ford Day Event flew by so fast that you hardly felt his presence, you started to wonder if you would ever have those moments again. Moments when he would pull you close and make you feel safe; moments when you would fall asleep with your head resting against his chest while his strong arms were wrapped around you; moments when you would snuggle together at the lounge area of the tour bus and talk about everything and nothing; moments when he would make you laugh until your eyes are all watery and you are out of breath.
You are in love with Cook. You realized that during the last few weeks of the competition when he was all you could think about. And his furtive glances somehow gave you an assurance about your feelings because you knew he felt the same way. You even stopped caring about the fact that your emotions may be a testimony to uhm… your sexuality. Although, the fear of how people around you would react to it remained lingering in your psyche.
But when Cook finally came to you during the tour and told you how he felt about you, that fear was pushed deep down in your subconscious thoughts. You knew then you couldn’t hide what you truly felt for him, knew you wouldn’t be able to fight it. And in a short span of time, your love grew stronger. You drew strength from each other, especially at times when you were physically worn out from the demands of the show and other obligations. You wondered how you would have gotten through all that without Cook. He was your pillar, the very foundation that kept you up on your feet. And you loved him with all your heart. You could just imagine Fish and Mietra laughing at you if you end up listening to cheesy love songs.
By the time you got back home, you missed him even more. You knew it wasn’t the last time you’d see each other, but you dread the fact that the time in Dearborn might have been your last time together as a… well, as a couple. Both your lives seemed to have been laid out on a storyboard – you and Cook as puppets and your management would be the master that would pull your strings and make decisions for you.
You locked yourself up in your room at times you weren’t in the studio to record songs for your album. You heard from Cook as often as possible. He would send you at least thirty text messages in a day and would call you every now and then. And you did the same. His voice merely became your source of strength and it served as an anchor to your sanity that dreaded to escape you because of all the conflicts present in your mind.
Months went on and you saw less of Cook. The phone calls and text messages and emails and IM sessions likewise receded. But the hardest part of it all was the love you felt for him remained strong, even became stronger. Cook had clearly expressed that he felt the same way. And from the sound of his voice during the occasional phone calls you get, you knew he was having a hard time coping up.
There never was a break up. You knew, as well as he did, that you both do not possess enough strength to bring closure in your relationship.
What worried you the most was, somewhere at the back of your mind, you knew Cook had never really broken up with Kim officially. Although he had been clear about how he felt for you, and you guessed Kim knew about it because she suddenly disappeared from the picture, there was still this dang foreboding that Cook would realize he’d be better off with Kim.
The release and promotion of your first album somehow brought temporary distraction from the conflicting emotions that had held you prisoner for the past months. But your enthusiasm wasn’t as great as you expected. You still missed Cook.
Cook didn’t have a birthday bash as everyone, especially you, expected. He was caught up with endless obligations between New York and L.A. at the time. But you made sure you send him the gift you’ve bugged your sister, Claudia, into helping you pick out. It was a silver necklace, with a musical symbol enclosed in a diamond-shaped frame for a pendant. You knew of his penchant for accessories, which you have practically but mildly adopted.
Christmas was nearing and you still haven’t had a chance to see him. And yet you did your best to show everyone around you that you were enjoying your holiday break. ‘Cause dang, you knew you owed it to your family. To your brother and sisters.
Your parents must have sensed your depression, regardless of how much you tried to hide it with your unfaltering smile. They knew you too well. You were just surprised that one day, your dad proposed that you all spend the holidays and your birthday in Las Vegas. You knew they’d have something planned for you one way or the other. But Las Vegas? You relented to your dad’s idea because you just didn’t have the energy to oppose to anything he said.
It was a surprise indeed. Your mom and dad and a few of your aunts and uncles have made an effort to organize a small private party in your suite, bringing food and a large cake. But the surprise didn’t end there. Your mom smiled widely when she announced that you have a guest waiting outside and you did not miss the way your dad sneered as she said it. Although your dad’s reaction was a dead give away, you still couldn’t help but act extremely enthusiastic when Cook walked through the door.
It had been weeks since you last saw him. You weren’t even sure if seeing him at Disney counted because even though you were able to spend stolen moments together, his band mates and your dad had to be close by to cover up for you because there were a lot of media people present. Your dad admitted he knew about your relationship beforehand. He ran into Beth in L.A. once when she went there to find a house for Cook and they both fell into what became a long conversation. Cook’s family knew about you, of course, and they’ve been very supportive.
The next time you and Cook had a chance to get together was at a corporate event in Florida. It was then you realized things changed. You knew in your heart that the feelings were still there. But somehow, you felt that the time spent apart have created a rift that were threatening to draw you away from each other.
He invited you to dinner at his place in L.A. a week later. He said it was a pre-Valentine celebration because he wasn’t certain you’d be able to spend that day together since his tour would kick off the day before. And gosh. You just loved him more for being romantic. He had set up a cozy atmosphere of candlelight dinner with instrumental music playing in the background. Was that saxophone? After dinner, you both settled in the living room, with scented candles lit all around.
“Are those candles safe? Are you sure it won’t start a fire or something?” You teased, trying to lighten up the mood.
“No. But I have a fire extinguisher,” he teased back, of course. And you both giggled. “I missed you,” he said, brushing his finger against your cheek.
You leaned forward and gave him a chaste kiss. “I missed you too.”
He slid his hand toward the back of your neck and pulled you close, locking his lips with yours in a desperate kiss. You released all the emotions you’ve suppressed during his absence, moaning in response as he pushed his tongue inside your mouth inviting yours to move along in an intertwining motion, tongues collided in a slow love dance, the beating of your hearts served as the cadence.
“I love you so much baby. With all my heart,” Cook said as soon as you both unraveled from the fiery passionate kiss.
“I love you.” You whispered back, looking at him straight in the eye and hoped that the mere exchange of glances was enough to express all the feelings your heart held.
He pulled you again for another kiss. And his touch awakened a burning desire within you, unyielding and longing to be satiated. Your hands lovingly caressed every inch of his body, memorizing every curve and every crease. And you felt his hands move underneath your shirt; leaving each spot of your skin he touched ablaze. You moaned at the incredible sensation as you felt the warmth of his lips against your neck; his tongue leaving a trail from your collarbone all the way up to your ears. He flicked his tongue playfully on the surface of your ear making you whimper and your hand clutched tightly on his soft brown hair.
Cook carried you to his bedroom. And soon, you both divested your clothing. The kiss that initiated everything else that happened that night was passionate and ravishing, silently divulging unspoken words of love and devotion and longing. He kissed and licked his way slowly down your neck; and sucked softly at your sensitive areas, leaving marks of his fervent emotions. You got so lost at the sensation. And you passionately made love that night. Not knowing that it was his way of saying good-bye.
Another week went by and you were elated over the fact that you would be seeing him again. You were all invited to attend the opening of the American Idol Experience attraction at Disney World and you knew he would be there. You practically ignored the exhaustion that was threatening to overcome you since you just flew in from Hawaii, all you could think about was seeing Cook again.
The moment you arrived at the assembly, some of the former finalists of the show were already there, including your friends from your season. And of course, Cook was there too. You felt something was off, though, when his band mates greeted you in a different way. You have already gotten used to being caught in a headlock by Andy, or having your hair violently ruffled by Neal, or Kyle sneaking up behind you to cover your eyes with his sweaty hands, or being mildly punched on the arm by Joey. But none of these happened. Instead they were pretty formal when they acknowledged your presence. And Cook? Cook seemed pretty uptight during the entire event.
You did your best to ignore, thinking that it was probably a good idea to keep your distance for the time being since there were lots of reporters around. And the since you were both going on tour, you knew you could not risk any bad publicity. But as the party wore on and Cook seemed to ignore you more, you felt so bothered so you confronted him. And you both ended up in your hotel room.
“I think we’ve been fooling ourselves, David,” was how Cook started it. “It had been such a torture trying to get by these past months when we were apart. Missing you nearly drove me insane.”
You didn’t know why he was telling you this. It wasn’t like you didn’t know already. Gosh. It wasn’t like you didn’t feel the same way. But you thought you should let him know how it affected you as well, so you said, “I know Cook. I thought I was going to fall apart from missing you too much.”
His next words made you regret you even admitted your sentiments over the situation. “I think we should cool things off for a while, give each other the freedom to explore our options outside our relationship,” Cook said, obviously trying real hard to keep his eyes locked to yours.
Whoever wrote the lyrics ‘break it to me gently, if you have to say good-bye’ must have been delirious because saying it in a subtle way only made you more confused and you had no choice but to straightforwardly ask him, “are you breaking up with me?”
And when he said, “David…”, and lowered his gaze to the floor, unable to look at you again, you knew you got his point.
It was a day you would never forget. The day your heart broke into a million pieces. In Disney World. Where dreams come true, so they say. But it was where your dreams ironically shattered and dissolved into nothingness.
It felt like the world had stopped turning and my life fell apart that instant.
You read the last line in your journal as you wept, the memory of the day your heart broke for the first time in your life, the day you felt like you were thrown in the middle of the ocean and was too weak to move in order to keep your head above the water and there was this pressure that was pulling you down, drowning you, until you could no longer breath.
Startled by a soft gentle voice calling out, “Papa”, you immediately slammed the leather bound book shut. You idly laughed at Claudia when she gave you the blank notebook on your seventeenth birthday. “You can write things you’d like to remember while you’re on the show,” she had said when you asked why she thought you needed a journal. You even added that a diary is too girly, and she just snapped back with, “as if I didn’t know better.” But it had helped because the journal was your constant listener as you spilled your thoughts and emotions through a string of words when you wrote on it.
“Are you crying?” The little girl that broke your reverie entered the attic, her big hazel eyes full of concern.
Before you can even utter a lie that you had dust in your eyes, another voice floated through the room, “babe, what’s taking you so long to find the –“
He looked straight into your still-tearful eyes for a moment then his gaze fell on the black book on your lap. He probably wouldn’t have said anything if the little girl didn’t blurt out, “Daddy, I saw Papa crying.”
“Baby, were you reading your journal again?” Cook asked; his eyes bore the same concern that your daughter, who now sat beside you on the floor, had.
“Oh no… I wasn’t… I was just… well... looking through the boxes, and uhm, I just happened to pick this up because I was looking for uhm…” Your voice trailed off because the look Cook gave you told you that he knew you were making up excuses to hide the truth.
Making his way towards you, Cook smiled and wheedled, “baby, I thought we agreed you’d stay away from anything that reminded you of unhappy times.” He spoke like you were on the same league as your four-year-old daughter. He sat on the floor beside you, placing an arm around your shoulder to pull you close, your daughter, Karissa, quickly leapt into his lap.
Breathing out a sigh, you leaned into your husband, “I know, I just… Well I couldn’t help it. I saw it and the next thing I knew I was reading it.”
“And crying over it. Like you always had,” Cook says, his voice drifting into a rising and falling pitch as his way of letting you know that he was teasing.
“Oh my gosh, no. I don’t always –“
His knowing gaze stopped you from denying what was an obvious fact. “Oh my gosh, stopped laughing and just help me find the streamers.”
“You mean you’ve been here for more than thirty minutes and you haven’t found it yet?”
“I wasn’t the one who put it away the last time we used it after Karissa’s birthday party,” you said defensively, while in truth, the only box you got through so far was the one where you found your journal in.
Cook chuckled, clearly amused by your utterances. He lifted Karissa off his lap, telling her, “go ask grandma and granny Beth what else they need us to find while Papa and I are here in the attic.”
Once your daughter was out the door, Cook helped you up and pulled you close, wrapping his thick arms around your middle. “You’re not supposed to be crying on the day our son turns one, you know.”
You buried your face against his neck and breathed. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have read that stupid journal.” You raised your head to look at him and you brushed your lips quickly against his before saying, “I think we better go look for the streamers and other decorations before our mothers start to think we got lost within heaps of old stuffs and send a search party up here.”
Cook once again burst into his infamous melodic laugh while he moved towards a pile of boxes on one side of the attic.
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Children were wildly running around your house – Cook’s little nephews and nieces and your little cousins and niece – your son, Ethan, running after them, his little legs a bit wobbly as he tried to catch up with the other kids. He was clearly enjoying his first birthday party.
Karissa was trying hard to be a big girl, a little lady according to her, as she helped her Uncle Andrew and Aunt Jazzy facilitate the parlor games being held at your back yard.
Most of your friends were there; some had their own children with them. Carly, who had just stepped out of the washroom with her two-year old daughter Arielle, came up to you as you were driving the children out the back door. “I can’t believe Ethan’s turned one already,” she said, smiling. “It seems like it was just yesterday when he was brought here by your lawyer, so tiny at five-days old.”
Giggling as you gazed out into the lawn to watch your son being heaved up to your husband’s shoulder, you replied, “I know, right? How time flies. Pretty soon, he’ll be in school with his sister.”
“Well don’t force him to grow up too soon,” Carly said in a flippant manner. “Let him be your baby long enough.” She handed her daughter to Michael Johns, who she ended up marrying almost a year after you and Cook got married. And you both watched him run to the middle of the backyard, with Arielle on his shoulder. Carly placed her arm around you when you said how glad you were that she and Michael had likewise started a family of their own. “I’m happy for you and Cook, too. We’ve always known you were meant for each other,” she said, squeezing your shoulder.
Those were her exact words when you and Cook got back together, five days after the Disney World break up. You wept like a child, and felt a bit ashamed for it, when you told your friends what had happened. But Carly and Brooke said, “Cook will be back. He won’t be able to stay away that long, you’ll see.” And they were right.
Brooke soon joined you and Carly at the patio, and then Jason, then Syesha. And just like you were eight years ago, you all fall into a very easy conversation, talking about anything under the sun, wondering about how the others, whom you have lost contact with, were doing.
It was time for Ethan to blow the candle. Cook still held your son and you took Karissa’s hand, pulling her with you to join her daddy and her little brother behind a square table that your dad had set up at the middle of the lawn. Cook’s stepfather took charge of the candle, setting the single candle shaped as number ‘1’ alight. Everyone gathered around singing the birthday song and after your brother Daniel finished it with a prolonged melody of the very last word, you and Cook and Karissa bent down to help Ethan blow his candle.
“Papa, Ethan didn’t make a wish,” Karissa exclaimed as tiny puff of smoke rose from the candle.
You ruffled your daughter’s wavy hair, saying, “don’t worry, sweetie. I’m sure he did, he just can’t tell us because it might not come true.”
She nodded with an “ohhh” as she bought your explanation, just like she always had. You guessed she might have gotten her gullibility from you. Karissa then turns to Cook and whined, “Daddy, can I have some cake?”
Cook dipped a finger at the edge of the cake, covering it with white icing and smearing Karissa’s nose with the sticky stuff. “Of course you can sweetie.”
Karissa squealed, “Daddy!”, as she wiped off the icing from her nose.
All you could do was shake your head and laugh. “I’ll go get a cake knife,” you said and you made your way inside the house.
You were on your way to the kitchen when the doorbell rang. And since almost everyone was out at the back, you guessed that there wasn’t anyone around you could ask to open the door for you.
If only you knew you would regret it immensely once you face the person standing on the other side, you probably wouldn’t have opened the door yourself.
A woman, you guessed, in her late twenties, with long dark brown hair, stood at your front porch. Her blue green eyes turned to you as soon as you asked, “may I help you?”
She smiled, rather sweetly, as she nodded, saying, “sorry to come unannounced, but I just wanted to drop my gift off for Ethan.”
“And you are?” You looked at her inquiringly, not certain why you suddenly felt uneasy, as if an alarm had suddenly set off in your head.
“I’m –“
“Brenda.” You heard Cook breathed out the name behind you. And you certainly did not miss the way the woman’s eyes glistened when your husband came into view.
“Hey Dave. I thought I’d drop by and wish our son a ‘happy birthday’,” the woman, Brenda apparently, uttered relentlessly.
“Your son?” You found yourself raising your voice, all the stupid instinct non-sense kicking in. But, of course, you weren’t likely to react without confirming, “you mean you’re Ethan’s surrogate mother?”
The woman smiled and Cook could only stutter, “uhm Arch, why d-don’t you, uhm –“
“Oh no,” Brenda’s façade changed from shy to overconfident in a matter of seconds, “Actually, I didn’t have him through surrogacy. Ethan was naturally conceived.”
“He was what?” You ignored Cook’s constant prodding, telling you he’d handle the situation himself. Whatever ‘situation’ it was he was referring to; you sure weren’t backing down unless you knew what was going on.
“I’m Dave’s ex-girlfriend. Ethan’s natural mother.”
~ end ~
=========================================================
Comments will be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading.
End Notes: This is actually a companion fic to 'Sentiments'. I didn't mention it beforehand because, I don't know, I was hoping it would have the same omigosh-what-happened-to-cook-and-archie effect like Sentiments did. But I wasn't sure I pulled it off this time because I lack the energy to make it work that way. Anyway, I will be writing a chaptered sequel as I've said. I'm not sure if anyone will be interested though, but the plot keeps burning through my head, I just feel the need to write it. And now it's time to find the right muse to help me work on it.
Author:
clover71Pairing: Cook/ Archie
Rating: PG-13
Description: A story that takes place around eight years after AI season 7.
Summary: David Archuleta reflects on his life experiences, wondering whether he will, someday, regret the choices he had made.
Disclaimer:
1) Please note that this is purely fiction and none of the contents are real except for some of the characters used in this story.
2) Most characters used are based on real people but the details within do not purposely imply occurrences in real life; thus, anything here that concurs with real events may be completely coincidental.
3) This fic is created based solely on the imagination of the author and for non-profitable purpose.
4) Some establishments and/or organizations used in the story are existent but in no way owned by or connected with the author. Everything written in line with those establishments/ organizations are fictitious and are only created by the writer.
Author's notes: This fic sat in my PC unfinished and forgotten since, October last year, I think. It had been so long I forgot already. Anyway, I had no intention of completing this because the idea I had for the ending clearly calls for a sequel and at the time I started this, I had no clue what the sequel would be about. But I suddenly came up with an idea for it two days ago so I was impelled to finish this fic and re-write some of the parts I've written. I wasn't so much in the mood when I worked on this so the ambiance of this fic would be totally boring. But I just needed to write this because this would launch the new fic idea that formed in my head. This was not beta'ed so this would naturally have tons of grammar and spelling mistakes. Again, written during a dull moment, so fic may reflect dullness.
ETA: I forgot to point out that the song lyrics mentioned in this fic is from the song Break It To Me Gently by Angela Bofill
~ start ~
“David? Are You Coming?” Cook’s voice suddenly brought you to reality. You turned to him and immediately saw his hopeful expression. He stood there waiting for you to come to him. But when you didn’t move, he cleared his throat and said, “I mean, are we on the same flight?”
It was then you realized that you would be going on your separate ways. “Uhm… I don’t think so,” you told him as you held the tears that welled up in your eyes. And gosh, it was even more difficult to fight it when he suddenly threw his arms around you and pulled you close, hugging you as tightly as possible. You drowned out the ‘awwws’ from the people around you and let yourself get lost in his embrace. Is this it? You thought. Is this good-bye? You wished that word never existed. You bit on your lower lip to prevent the tears from falling.
“I’ll miss you. So much,” Cook whispered. And giving you one final squeeze, he said, “I love you. Remember that.”
“I love you too,” you felt the words slip out of your mouth so naturally. Because that was the truth. You do love him.
When he finally let go, you realized that you missed him already. And gosh again, how lame could you be to be crying in front of all those people? So you held back your tears as you watched him walk away. You watched him as he waved at the people around you. And before he even disappeared behind the wall that separated the platform from the backstage area, he looked at you one last time and you saw the love that he had selflessly showed you for the past months in his eyes.
As soon as you got back to your hotel, you quickly packed. And as you rushed out with your dad to catch your flight back to Utah, it was then it hit you. You felt it heavy in your heart because you knew that the uncertainty of being able to spend time with Cook alone grew by the second. You remembered not being entirely sad during the last show of American Idol tour in Tulsa because you knew you would be seeing him again in less than a week. You were sad to be parted from your other friends, of course, but the thought of being with Cook again was what kept you strong.
Now that the Ford Day Event flew by so fast that you hardly felt his presence, you started to wonder if you would ever have those moments again. Moments when he would pull you close and make you feel safe; moments when you would fall asleep with your head resting against his chest while his strong arms were wrapped around you; moments when you would snuggle together at the lounge area of the tour bus and talk about everything and nothing; moments when he would make you laugh until your eyes are all watery and you are out of breath.
You are in love with Cook. You realized that during the last few weeks of the competition when he was all you could think about. And his furtive glances somehow gave you an assurance about your feelings because you knew he felt the same way. You even stopped caring about the fact that your emotions may be a testimony to uhm… your sexuality. Although, the fear of how people around you would react to it remained lingering in your psyche.
But when Cook finally came to you during the tour and told you how he felt about you, that fear was pushed deep down in your subconscious thoughts. You knew then you couldn’t hide what you truly felt for him, knew you wouldn’t be able to fight it. And in a short span of time, your love grew stronger. You drew strength from each other, especially at times when you were physically worn out from the demands of the show and other obligations. You wondered how you would have gotten through all that without Cook. He was your pillar, the very foundation that kept you up on your feet. And you loved him with all your heart. You could just imagine Fish and Mietra laughing at you if you end up listening to cheesy love songs.
By the time you got back home, you missed him even more. You knew it wasn’t the last time you’d see each other, but you dread the fact that the time in Dearborn might have been your last time together as a… well, as a couple. Both your lives seemed to have been laid out on a storyboard – you and Cook as puppets and your management would be the master that would pull your strings and make decisions for you.
You locked yourself up in your room at times you weren’t in the studio to record songs for your album. You heard from Cook as often as possible. He would send you at least thirty text messages in a day and would call you every now and then. And you did the same. His voice merely became your source of strength and it served as an anchor to your sanity that dreaded to escape you because of all the conflicts present in your mind.
Months went on and you saw less of Cook. The phone calls and text messages and emails and IM sessions likewise receded. But the hardest part of it all was the love you felt for him remained strong, even became stronger. Cook had clearly expressed that he felt the same way. And from the sound of his voice during the occasional phone calls you get, you knew he was having a hard time coping up.
There never was a break up. You knew, as well as he did, that you both do not possess enough strength to bring closure in your relationship.
What worried you the most was, somewhere at the back of your mind, you knew Cook had never really broken up with Kim officially. Although he had been clear about how he felt for you, and you guessed Kim knew about it because she suddenly disappeared from the picture, there was still this dang foreboding that Cook would realize he’d be better off with Kim.
The release and promotion of your first album somehow brought temporary distraction from the conflicting emotions that had held you prisoner for the past months. But your enthusiasm wasn’t as great as you expected. You still missed Cook.
Cook didn’t have a birthday bash as everyone, especially you, expected. He was caught up with endless obligations between New York and L.A. at the time. But you made sure you send him the gift you’ve bugged your sister, Claudia, into helping you pick out. It was a silver necklace, with a musical symbol enclosed in a diamond-shaped frame for a pendant. You knew of his penchant for accessories, which you have practically but mildly adopted.
Christmas was nearing and you still haven’t had a chance to see him. And yet you did your best to show everyone around you that you were enjoying your holiday break. ‘Cause dang, you knew you owed it to your family. To your brother and sisters.
Your parents must have sensed your depression, regardless of how much you tried to hide it with your unfaltering smile. They knew you too well. You were just surprised that one day, your dad proposed that you all spend the holidays and your birthday in Las Vegas. You knew they’d have something planned for you one way or the other. But Las Vegas? You relented to your dad’s idea because you just didn’t have the energy to oppose to anything he said.
It was a surprise indeed. Your mom and dad and a few of your aunts and uncles have made an effort to organize a small private party in your suite, bringing food and a large cake. But the surprise didn’t end there. Your mom smiled widely when she announced that you have a guest waiting outside and you did not miss the way your dad sneered as she said it. Although your dad’s reaction was a dead give away, you still couldn’t help but act extremely enthusiastic when Cook walked through the door.
It had been weeks since you last saw him. You weren’t even sure if seeing him at Disney counted because even though you were able to spend stolen moments together, his band mates and your dad had to be close by to cover up for you because there were a lot of media people present. Your dad admitted he knew about your relationship beforehand. He ran into Beth in L.A. once when she went there to find a house for Cook and they both fell into what became a long conversation. Cook’s family knew about you, of course, and they’ve been very supportive.
The next time you and Cook had a chance to get together was at a corporate event in Florida. It was then you realized things changed. You knew in your heart that the feelings were still there. But somehow, you felt that the time spent apart have created a rift that were threatening to draw you away from each other.
He invited you to dinner at his place in L.A. a week later. He said it was a pre-Valentine celebration because he wasn’t certain you’d be able to spend that day together since his tour would kick off the day before. And gosh. You just loved him more for being romantic. He had set up a cozy atmosphere of candlelight dinner with instrumental music playing in the background. Was that saxophone? After dinner, you both settled in the living room, with scented candles lit all around.
“Are those candles safe? Are you sure it won’t start a fire or something?” You teased, trying to lighten up the mood.
“No. But I have a fire extinguisher,” he teased back, of course. And you both giggled. “I missed you,” he said, brushing his finger against your cheek.
You leaned forward and gave him a chaste kiss. “I missed you too.”
He slid his hand toward the back of your neck and pulled you close, locking his lips with yours in a desperate kiss. You released all the emotions you’ve suppressed during his absence, moaning in response as he pushed his tongue inside your mouth inviting yours to move along in an intertwining motion, tongues collided in a slow love dance, the beating of your hearts served as the cadence.
“I love you so much baby. With all my heart,” Cook said as soon as you both unraveled from the fiery passionate kiss.
“I love you.” You whispered back, looking at him straight in the eye and hoped that the mere exchange of glances was enough to express all the feelings your heart held.
He pulled you again for another kiss. And his touch awakened a burning desire within you, unyielding and longing to be satiated. Your hands lovingly caressed every inch of his body, memorizing every curve and every crease. And you felt his hands move underneath your shirt; leaving each spot of your skin he touched ablaze. You moaned at the incredible sensation as you felt the warmth of his lips against your neck; his tongue leaving a trail from your collarbone all the way up to your ears. He flicked his tongue playfully on the surface of your ear making you whimper and your hand clutched tightly on his soft brown hair.
Cook carried you to his bedroom. And soon, you both divested your clothing. The kiss that initiated everything else that happened that night was passionate and ravishing, silently divulging unspoken words of love and devotion and longing. He kissed and licked his way slowly down your neck; and sucked softly at your sensitive areas, leaving marks of his fervent emotions. You got so lost at the sensation. And you passionately made love that night. Not knowing that it was his way of saying good-bye.
Another week went by and you were elated over the fact that you would be seeing him again. You were all invited to attend the opening of the American Idol Experience attraction at Disney World and you knew he would be there. You practically ignored the exhaustion that was threatening to overcome you since you just flew in from Hawaii, all you could think about was seeing Cook again.
The moment you arrived at the assembly, some of the former finalists of the show were already there, including your friends from your season. And of course, Cook was there too. You felt something was off, though, when his band mates greeted you in a different way. You have already gotten used to being caught in a headlock by Andy, or having your hair violently ruffled by Neal, or Kyle sneaking up behind you to cover your eyes with his sweaty hands, or being mildly punched on the arm by Joey. But none of these happened. Instead they were pretty formal when they acknowledged your presence. And Cook? Cook seemed pretty uptight during the entire event.
You did your best to ignore, thinking that it was probably a good idea to keep your distance for the time being since there were lots of reporters around. And the since you were both going on tour, you knew you could not risk any bad publicity. But as the party wore on and Cook seemed to ignore you more, you felt so bothered so you confronted him. And you both ended up in your hotel room.
“I think we’ve been fooling ourselves, David,” was how Cook started it. “It had been such a torture trying to get by these past months when we were apart. Missing you nearly drove me insane.”
You didn’t know why he was telling you this. It wasn’t like you didn’t know already. Gosh. It wasn’t like you didn’t feel the same way. But you thought you should let him know how it affected you as well, so you said, “I know Cook. I thought I was going to fall apart from missing you too much.”
His next words made you regret you even admitted your sentiments over the situation. “I think we should cool things off for a while, give each other the freedom to explore our options outside our relationship,” Cook said, obviously trying real hard to keep his eyes locked to yours.
Whoever wrote the lyrics ‘break it to me gently, if you have to say good-bye’ must have been delirious because saying it in a subtle way only made you more confused and you had no choice but to straightforwardly ask him, “are you breaking up with me?”
And when he said, “David…”, and lowered his gaze to the floor, unable to look at you again, you knew you got his point.
It was a day you would never forget. The day your heart broke into a million pieces. In Disney World. Where dreams come true, so they say. But it was where your dreams ironically shattered and dissolved into nothingness.
It felt like the world had stopped turning and my life fell apart that instant.
You read the last line in your journal as you wept, the memory of the day your heart broke for the first time in your life, the day you felt like you were thrown in the middle of the ocean and was too weak to move in order to keep your head above the water and there was this pressure that was pulling you down, drowning you, until you could no longer breath.
Startled by a soft gentle voice calling out, “Papa”, you immediately slammed the leather bound book shut. You idly laughed at Claudia when she gave you the blank notebook on your seventeenth birthday. “You can write things you’d like to remember while you’re on the show,” she had said when you asked why she thought you needed a journal. You even added that a diary is too girly, and she just snapped back with, “as if I didn’t know better.” But it had helped because the journal was your constant listener as you spilled your thoughts and emotions through a string of words when you wrote on it.
“Are you crying?” The little girl that broke your reverie entered the attic, her big hazel eyes full of concern.
Before you can even utter a lie that you had dust in your eyes, another voice floated through the room, “babe, what’s taking you so long to find the –“
He looked straight into your still-tearful eyes for a moment then his gaze fell on the black book on your lap. He probably wouldn’t have said anything if the little girl didn’t blurt out, “Daddy, I saw Papa crying.”
“Baby, were you reading your journal again?” Cook asked; his eyes bore the same concern that your daughter, who now sat beside you on the floor, had.
“Oh no… I wasn’t… I was just… well... looking through the boxes, and uhm, I just happened to pick this up because I was looking for uhm…” Your voice trailed off because the look Cook gave you told you that he knew you were making up excuses to hide the truth.
Making his way towards you, Cook smiled and wheedled, “baby, I thought we agreed you’d stay away from anything that reminded you of unhappy times.” He spoke like you were on the same league as your four-year-old daughter. He sat on the floor beside you, placing an arm around your shoulder to pull you close, your daughter, Karissa, quickly leapt into his lap.
Breathing out a sigh, you leaned into your husband, “I know, I just… Well I couldn’t help it. I saw it and the next thing I knew I was reading it.”
“And crying over it. Like you always had,” Cook says, his voice drifting into a rising and falling pitch as his way of letting you know that he was teasing.
“Oh my gosh, no. I don’t always –“
His knowing gaze stopped you from denying what was an obvious fact. “Oh my gosh, stopped laughing and just help me find the streamers.”
“You mean you’ve been here for more than thirty minutes and you haven’t found it yet?”
“I wasn’t the one who put it away the last time we used it after Karissa’s birthday party,” you said defensively, while in truth, the only box you got through so far was the one where you found your journal in.
Cook chuckled, clearly amused by your utterances. He lifted Karissa off his lap, telling her, “go ask grandma and granny Beth what else they need us to find while Papa and I are here in the attic.”
Once your daughter was out the door, Cook helped you up and pulled you close, wrapping his thick arms around your middle. “You’re not supposed to be crying on the day our son turns one, you know.”
You buried your face against his neck and breathed. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have read that stupid journal.” You raised your head to look at him and you brushed your lips quickly against his before saying, “I think we better go look for the streamers and other decorations before our mothers start to think we got lost within heaps of old stuffs and send a search party up here.”
Cook once again burst into his infamous melodic laugh while he moved towards a pile of boxes on one side of the attic.
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Children were wildly running around your house – Cook’s little nephews and nieces and your little cousins and niece – your son, Ethan, running after them, his little legs a bit wobbly as he tried to catch up with the other kids. He was clearly enjoying his first birthday party.
Karissa was trying hard to be a big girl, a little lady according to her, as she helped her Uncle Andrew and Aunt Jazzy facilitate the parlor games being held at your back yard.
Most of your friends were there; some had their own children with them. Carly, who had just stepped out of the washroom with her two-year old daughter Arielle, came up to you as you were driving the children out the back door. “I can’t believe Ethan’s turned one already,” she said, smiling. “It seems like it was just yesterday when he was brought here by your lawyer, so tiny at five-days old.”
Giggling as you gazed out into the lawn to watch your son being heaved up to your husband’s shoulder, you replied, “I know, right? How time flies. Pretty soon, he’ll be in school with his sister.”
“Well don’t force him to grow up too soon,” Carly said in a flippant manner. “Let him be your baby long enough.” She handed her daughter to Michael Johns, who she ended up marrying almost a year after you and Cook got married. And you both watched him run to the middle of the backyard, with Arielle on his shoulder. Carly placed her arm around you when you said how glad you were that she and Michael had likewise started a family of their own. “I’m happy for you and Cook, too. We’ve always known you were meant for each other,” she said, squeezing your shoulder.
Those were her exact words when you and Cook got back together, five days after the Disney World break up. You wept like a child, and felt a bit ashamed for it, when you told your friends what had happened. But Carly and Brooke said, “Cook will be back. He won’t be able to stay away that long, you’ll see.” And they were right.
Brooke soon joined you and Carly at the patio, and then Jason, then Syesha. And just like you were eight years ago, you all fall into a very easy conversation, talking about anything under the sun, wondering about how the others, whom you have lost contact with, were doing.
It was time for Ethan to blow the candle. Cook still held your son and you took Karissa’s hand, pulling her with you to join her daddy and her little brother behind a square table that your dad had set up at the middle of the lawn. Cook’s stepfather took charge of the candle, setting the single candle shaped as number ‘1’ alight. Everyone gathered around singing the birthday song and after your brother Daniel finished it with a prolonged melody of the very last word, you and Cook and Karissa bent down to help Ethan blow his candle.
“Papa, Ethan didn’t make a wish,” Karissa exclaimed as tiny puff of smoke rose from the candle.
You ruffled your daughter’s wavy hair, saying, “don’t worry, sweetie. I’m sure he did, he just can’t tell us because it might not come true.”
She nodded with an “ohhh” as she bought your explanation, just like she always had. You guessed she might have gotten her gullibility from you. Karissa then turns to Cook and whined, “Daddy, can I have some cake?”
Cook dipped a finger at the edge of the cake, covering it with white icing and smearing Karissa’s nose with the sticky stuff. “Of course you can sweetie.”
Karissa squealed, “Daddy!”, as she wiped off the icing from her nose.
All you could do was shake your head and laugh. “I’ll go get a cake knife,” you said and you made your way inside the house.
You were on your way to the kitchen when the doorbell rang. And since almost everyone was out at the back, you guessed that there wasn’t anyone around you could ask to open the door for you.
If only you knew you would regret it immensely once you face the person standing on the other side, you probably wouldn’t have opened the door yourself.
A woman, you guessed, in her late twenties, with long dark brown hair, stood at your front porch. Her blue green eyes turned to you as soon as you asked, “may I help you?”
She smiled, rather sweetly, as she nodded, saying, “sorry to come unannounced, but I just wanted to drop my gift off for Ethan.”
“And you are?” You looked at her inquiringly, not certain why you suddenly felt uneasy, as if an alarm had suddenly set off in your head.
“I’m –“
“Brenda.” You heard Cook breathed out the name behind you. And you certainly did not miss the way the woman’s eyes glistened when your husband came into view.
“Hey Dave. I thought I’d drop by and wish our son a ‘happy birthday’,” the woman, Brenda apparently, uttered relentlessly.
“Your son?” You found yourself raising your voice, all the stupid instinct non-sense kicking in. But, of course, you weren’t likely to react without confirming, “you mean you’re Ethan’s surrogate mother?”
The woman smiled and Cook could only stutter, “uhm Arch, why d-don’t you, uhm –“
“Oh no,” Brenda’s façade changed from shy to overconfident in a matter of seconds, “Actually, I didn’t have him through surrogacy. Ethan was naturally conceived.”
“He was what?” You ignored Cook’s constant prodding, telling you he’d handle the situation himself. Whatever ‘situation’ it was he was referring to; you sure weren’t backing down unless you knew what was going on.
“I’m Dave’s ex-girlfriend. Ethan’s natural mother.”
~ end ~
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Comments will be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading.
End Notes: This is actually a companion fic to 'Sentiments'. I didn't mention it beforehand because, I don't know, I was hoping it would have the same omigosh-what-happened-to-cook-and-archie effect like Sentiments did. But I wasn't sure I pulled it off this time because I lack the energy to make it work that way. Anyway, I will be writing a chaptered sequel as I've said. I'm not sure if anyone will be interested though, but the plot keeps burning through my head, I just feel the need to write it. And now it's time to find the right muse to help me work on it.
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anyways, i'm sure the desired effect was achieved without the preconceived notion. i kinda wished i didn't scroll down.
my favorite for some reason was when archie spent his bday in Vegas. specifically when his dad sneered about a special guest. most of the time jeff is portrayed as one of the antagonist, its a breathe of fresh air when he gets to be the supporting kind.
i also can't seem to erase the image in my head how cook's bandmate reacts to him. andy with the headlock, neil with the hair ruffling, kyle sneaking up and joey lightly punches him. it's like everything is as should be, a picture perfect relationship among characters.
hmmm... this is all good.
i'm very much interested as to a sequel. the conflict and explanations as to how ethan came about to be naturally conceived. that would be definitely an interesting story to look forward to.
maybe i should stop now. thanks and congrats for having being able to finish this and most importantly sharing it.
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i used vegas because i still could not believe the archuleta family chose to spend the holidays and archie's birthday and cook being there made me raise my eyebrows even higher. so there, i made it look like it was jeff and cook's conspiracy to drag archie there and surprise him or something. lol.
since archie had been blogging about running into cook and his gang for several times now, i figured he may be chummy with cook's band mates by now...so yeah, that's how i imagine they would react whenever they see archie.
thanks so much for reading. i'll start with the sequel soon as i have the other fics rolling smoothly as well.
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Ethan was...wait, WHAAAAAAAAAAT?! OHMIGOSH WHAT! THAT'S REDUNKULOUS! AFTER ALL THAT!
(BTW, I've never read Sentiments, but now I do :D)
BUT...WOW. Speechless. Poor bb Arch, he didn't know what was happening. *jumps into fic and glomps him*
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uhm...i referred it to sentiments to give some sort of a background about the family.
thanks so much for reading bb!
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This is amazing. I'd really love to see the sequel. Please? *puppy eyes*
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thanks so much for reading!
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What!
OMG SEQUEEEEEEEEL.
This was awesome, bb. I loved the way their relationship slowly fell apart and then that huge climax, after which Cook tried (in vain) to try and break it off, although I really wanted to know how he fixed it a few days later, and ohmygosh Brenda??
<3 Loved it bb!
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GTFO BRENDA.
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i'll be tackling how cook and david got back together after the disney world break up on the sequel. so there may be lots of flashbacks there. hope you'll like it.
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*kicks Cook*
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