Make believe

Chapter 25

"It's like, I'm up there, drumsticks in hand, facing the crowd-which isn't very big, I might add- but a crowd all the same, and the feeling is so exhilarating. Those fifty or so people took time out of their day to come see you preform. YOU. To listen to your lyrics-the words that you wrote yourself- and your music; which you took time to muse over every single note. You-you put so much effort into something, you put your whole being into this little three to four minute masterpiece, and to know that there's at least one person out there that appreciates it? Appreciates YOU?" Ashton's voice was heavy with passion, his eyes alight as he talked from the bench by my window.

"Well, Laraine...it's the best feeling in the world."

I listened intently to Ashton's words. We had silently climbed the steps and he quickly took to the seat near the window, saying the street lights scattered through out the dark town reminded him of a constellation. One that didn't have a pattern and didn't quiet form a picture, but was beautiful all the same. I saw the reflection of the lights gleam in his eyes as he gazed dreamily down below. I laid at the foot of my bed, on my stomach and facing the boy as he talked of his hopes and his dreams and what made his life with living.

I'm not quite sure how we got to that; first, we were just talking about things we normally talk about: movies, music, Michael's hair-or lack of, then we slowly drifted into this comfortable atmosphere that didn't hold our minds back from expressing themselves. It was odd, opening up to someone whom I didn't know forty days ago, but Ashton was Ashton, and it didn't feel odd. It felt right, actually. So we sat there, sometimes looking at each other and sometimes getting lost in the world that was our own. I listened to him describe the first time he had ever played the drums and then later, the happiness of getting his first girlfriend.

I didn't really ask for his life story, but I felt privileged to get to hear it.

"That sounds amazing," I hummed. "Sounds...exhilarating."

"It is." he muttered, almost to himself. We faded into a deafening silence, me with my thoughts and he with his. I thought of Luke, and an unidentifiable feeling came over me. That boy was probably the simplest person I had ever met, but he confuses me so. Maybe he just seems simple on the surface, I thought. I wondered what his mind was like and what troubles consumed it. What waves of memories he thought of most, what endless caverns of his brain did he dare not enter? All in all, I actually didn't know Luke that well. I just wanted to. I had given up on the possibility of any romantic relationship with, it was just too confusing. That night of our first date, when we ate pizza and talked for hours, I thought that maybe he liked me too. At least just a little.

But after that night of the theatre, something changed in him. Towards me. Towards everybody, really. Sometimes, I'll look over, and I'll see him laughing at something Ashton had said, and I'll just feel at ease. Peaceful. And then his eyes would land on me, and slowly, they would harden. He hardly treated me any different than before, but it's the way he looks at me. Like I'm a stranger. I shook the thought from my head, unwanting to think of Luke, but finding I couldn't stop.

"Laraine?"

I snapped my head to the side, the sudden sound slicing through the empty air.

"Mhm?"

He chuckled lightly. "I asked you what you loved about life, what you love to do...what's special to your heart?" I racked my mind for an answer, and finding nothing that I wished to share, I let out a nervous giggle.

"That's an awfully deep question."

He raised an eyebrow. "Its what you asked me half an hour ago."

I shrugged and shifted uncomfortably on the bed. It was all fine and great listening to Ashton tell his story, but I didn't exactly want to. It was oddly comforting-listening to him talk passionetly. I felt I could've drifted off to sleep at the sound of his voice talking of childhood memories. Feeling on the spot, I quietly mumbled a response, uttering a few words.

"What?" He laughed. "I didn't catch any of that."

"Um, well there's nothing really, that I'm extremely passionate about. Nothing really special or extremely memorable about my childhood...I dont know."

There was silence for a moment, then I heard the rustle of pillows and looked over to see Ashton standing from the window and walking towards the bed. He took a seat against the headboard, me at the foot of the bed, and sent me a warm smile. He leaned forward as he folded his legs beneath him.

"I'm sure that's not true."

I nodded. "Really."

He took a breath. "Laraine."

I lifted my gaze from the comforter to his eyes, which were settled on me. "Hey," he whispered, as he set his hand on my calve and gave it a squeeze. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay, what's wrong?"

I hadn't even noticed my eyes beginning to water until then. Bringing the back of my sweater-covered hand to my face, I wiped my eyes and strained to keep a straight face. Ashton's features were soft against the dimness of the Christmas lights strung around my room and his eyes reflected their light beautifully. His smile was small, his gaze encouraging.

"It's just...it's my parents." Lately, I couldn't stop thinking about them and the miles of distance between us. Did we even act like a family? We're we even one? It's seemed like, whenever I thought of them, I associated silence with their internal image. Loneliness. A long to be cared for.

"I feel so-so disconnected from them and their lives. My father's turned into his job, and my mothers let hers take over her life. And...and," I searched for the correct words to describe how I felt. "I just feel so unwanted. Un-needed."

I took a deep breath and continued. "And like, parents are usually annoying, right? They're supposed to be all up in their kid's business and wanting to know where they are, who they're with... It's like they only half care." He nodded his head, encouraging me to continue.

"Usually, parents ask their kids how their day was, right? Well, for us, it's the other way around, and I don't even get asked back. They're too caught up in their own lives to even notice that their daughter is terribly lonely."

Silence engulfed us, and softly, I heard Ashton's breathing.

"I mean, I was before you guys. Ashton...you, the boys, Aubree, you and your friendship mean the world to me."

A grin broke across his face, a sad one, accompanied by saddened eyes. I looked towards the ceiling, unknowing what to say next. Moments later, I felt the bed dip beside me. I looked to my right and saw Ashton, who had crawled over and laid on his back, gazing at the ceiling as well. I didn't know what to say, and he said nothing, so we laid there, staring at my boring ceiling, my thoughts put at ease slightly with his presence.

"Your parents love you."

I looked at him, and he was looking up at the ceiling, heavy thoughts evident in his troubled eyes.

"I heard her talking to you while you were in the kitchen. She's concerned about you. And that's caring."

"I guess." I sighed.

I felt warm warm fingers lace through mine, and squeeze.

"It's going to be okay."

I nodded, and believed him. Honestly, my parents weren't even half the problem. While I felt alone and neglected, Luke was also a major subject which clouded my already darkened mind. I fell asleep that night, with images of his faded, thoughtful eyes taking over my mind.