little victories }
Feb 21, 2013 23:48:53 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Feb 21, 2013 23:48:53 GMT -5
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learn to get by
Music pumped through the speakers as Malo and Tabitha entered the night club that had once been their worthy New York hang-out spot. Since meeting Lissa, Malo's alcoholism had eased up a bit; since rehab, Tabitha's had as well. As the ultimate test, the agreement was this: they would make the party fun, even without ecstasy and whiskey to make the whole experience "better." Malo wouldn't say it, but this was more about Tabitha tonight. While Malo knew what it was like to be predominantly sober, Tabitha had always had quite the trouble with the whole mess. Knowing that, he kept his arm linked to hers, a sign of their long-lasting friendship -- the one that had lasted through fights, deaths, and break-ups. He remembered once that he loved her, but now, it was a dull throb against his numbed heart. Since Lissa left to take a "career break," he only had friendships. He would settle for that.
"Feeling okay?" he asked over the undecipherable lyrics of a 2 Chainz song. Malo always knew modern music, but he didn't particularly enjoy any of it. On nights like these, however, he made exceptions; he and Tabitha were fantastic dancers, after all, and what were clubs made for besides hook-ups and depressing drunken stupors? They were there for neither, and the dance floor looked like it was beckoning the two trained Hollywood faces. He grabbed Tabitha's hand in a swift motion and began twirling childishly in a circle around her. After going through so much, Tabitha only had her closest friends to be there for her. The tabloids weren't exactly easy on her -- before or after -- and she had to have some sort of support other than the mature words of Samson Fletcher and Siana Zhekova. What was more depressing than hanging out with a perfect little family? She needed someone young, someone fun, someone who would spin around in circles until she smiled back at him.
The kiss between them flashed in a blindingly quick memory that Malo spun out of his system. His feet took him to the dance floor with a sweaty palm in his. "Do you remember our favorite dance routine?" he questioned before breaking out in the first move. He waited patiently for her feet to shuffle in unison with his own. He remembered sweaty practice sessions in their Nashville summer camp building. When they were younger, they had shared so much: the death of their mothers, the relationships with their siblings, and some shadow of feelings. Now, they were all grown up, weathered by strange events that seemed to haunt them both. She had Justin, though, as Malo had Keani; past the fights, they had someone. Sadly, Tabitha did not share a special bond with her father, and he meant to ask, but right now, all he wanted was music, that beating peace that beckoned him: an old, healthy addiction.
"Feeling okay?" he asked over the undecipherable lyrics of a 2 Chainz song. Malo always knew modern music, but he didn't particularly enjoy any of it. On nights like these, however, he made exceptions; he and Tabitha were fantastic dancers, after all, and what were clubs made for besides hook-ups and depressing drunken stupors? They were there for neither, and the dance floor looked like it was beckoning the two trained Hollywood faces. He grabbed Tabitha's hand in a swift motion and began twirling childishly in a circle around her. After going through so much, Tabitha only had her closest friends to be there for her. The tabloids weren't exactly easy on her -- before or after -- and she had to have some sort of support other than the mature words of Samson Fletcher and Siana Zhekova. What was more depressing than hanging out with a perfect little family? She needed someone young, someone fun, someone who would spin around in circles until she smiled back at him.
The kiss between them flashed in a blindingly quick memory that Malo spun out of his system. His feet took him to the dance floor with a sweaty palm in his. "Do you remember our favorite dance routine?" he questioned before breaking out in the first move. He waited patiently for her feet to shuffle in unison with his own. He remembered sweaty practice sessions in their Nashville summer camp building. When they were younger, they had shared so much: the death of their mothers, the relationships with their siblings, and some shadow of feelings. Now, they were all grown up, weathered by strange events that seemed to haunt them both. She had Justin, though, as Malo had Keani; past the fights, they had someone. Sadly, Tabitha did not share a special bond with her father, and he meant to ask, but right now, all he wanted was music, that beating peace that beckoned him: an old, healthy addiction.
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