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Title: Arizona
*Written in the same “universe” as Loaded Gun”
Part:1/1 (Part of series of short stories)
Pairing: Michelle Branch & Taylor Hanson
POV: Michelle
Genre: Het A/U
Rating: PG-13- Some light adult references.
Back Story: Michelle is on tour with Hanson one summer and her life is changed. This story takes place a few years after the time she spent with Taylor, heck, it could even be “present”.
Disclaimers:This story is based on rumours and my interpretations of them, in a strictly fictional matter. I claim no responsibility for similarities and nothing is intended to be taken as fact.
Word Count: 1419
Coffee. You and your coffee. You used to drink pot after pot, I’d watch you go back time and and time to not just refill your cup, but to start another pot all together. You’d kill entire afternoons on the back of that bus, plunking your fingers against your smallest keyboard, or maybe strumming the strings of your acoustic guitar. It was an instrument that didn’t come out very often, but that was a shame. It was a beautiful instrument, with a soft sound that matched your voice so well. I loved listening to you create songs on it.
I try not to think about you when I drink coffee, I drink too much of it now to allow myself to get bogged down every time, over something, or shall I say, someone, like you. I can’t help though, now, to think of you, as the tour bus turns into an achingly familiar truck stop in Arizona. We stopped at these stops all the time, the bus needed gas or someone needed a potty break every so often. But this particular truck stop stood out.
If I wasn’t so desperate now for a hot, fresh cup of the damn stuff, I probably would have just stayed inside of the bus. The sign on top of the building reads “Java Joes” but I can’t be certain that that’s the same name it bore when you and I were together here for the first time. Name change or not, however, I’ll never forget this place, not the grey crumbling bricks or the way you looked at me.
It was the first time that you’d ever really spoke to me, at least more than formalities had allowed for. I’d been told that not only were you quiet and shy, but you were “taken” by a girl from Georgia named Natalie, as well. Just days earlier, I’d signed the contract to go on tour with you and your brothers. The auditions had been one of the scariest things I’d ever done in my life at that point.
My fingers trembled as they plucked every single carefully memorized chord, and I sung along. “Louder” your manager had kept pressing me, but I was so scared. So, so scared. Despite trying my best, I’d felt that I’d blown it. As I walked out, I remember feeling your eyes on me, and thinking that you were probably mocking me, silently to yourself. Little did I know, that you were staring because you were “fascinated”. “Fascinated” was the word your manager said that you had been when it came to me. Apparently you had done most of the convincing that it should be me who join the band for the tour. I had expected you, maybe a little too confidently, to pay a little more attention to me, but instead, you’d been pretty quiet. It resulted in me being fairly nervous.
I had been so excited to meet you again, to tour with your band, whose music I’d been listening to myself for several years at that point. Reality hit me a little harder than expected when I found myself feeling so shy around you.
The small of hot coffee greets me as I step into the shop. My eyes look around for a moment as I take in the familiar setting. I spot the coffee bar off to the right, where it had always been, and guide myself over to it, convincing myself that this really only had to be a simple thing. Just get the coffee, and then get out. I could do this.
The moment only feels heavier as I stand at the counter and reach for one of the pots in front of me. My fingers shake a little bit against the pot handle as I pour the scalding liquid into my cup, leaving a generous amount of cream and sugar that I still load into it.
“Do you even taste the coffee?” were your words as you watched me prepare my drink.
“Of course.” I had smiled, though I know I was blushing as I spoke. “Though, maybe not as much as you do.” I finished, smiling as I looked at your cup, which was filled solely with dark liquid.
“Yours is barely coffee. You’ve got enough dairy there to nurse a baby cow.” Your laugh rolled past your lips as your blue eyes flickered to mine.
“Do you have something against baby cows?” I asked, feigning offense.
“Oh, not at all. Veal is very tasty, you know.” You smirked, your thin lips curling up into a cheshire grin as your eyes sparkled. It was one of your real smiles. The kind that you wore when you were really, truly amused or happy about something, instead of the fake one that I knew you painted on at other times. Anyone that knows you, knows the difference between these. At least, I should hope.
“So you’re saying that you want to eat me?” I asked you, catching you off guard a little, if I had to guess.
“Well...” It was your turn now to blush, the first time I’d managed to paint your skin pink, from the tops of your cheeks, to the tips of your ears. I thought it was extra adorable.
“Maybe not in the same sense.” You smirked before quickly turning away, leaving me unable to reply before you headed to the cash register.
My skin had burned as the meaning of your words set in, my heart taking off like a roller coasting rolling over the top of the hill. Plummeting faster and faster as I realized that you had just flirted with me.
I’d always thought you were so attractive, so beautiful, even. There were times on the bus, that we’d be int he back lounge, you’d be writing your songs, or maybe even playing video games with Zac. I’d be there too, pretending to be reading a book. I say pretending, because in truth, I spent more time looking over the pages, instead of at them. I’d peek over the top of the page and drag my eyes over the shapes of your features, memorizing each and every little detail. The little dip in your nose, or the little scar under your lip, the mole on your jaw line.
I carried my cup of coffee up to the cashier, smiling tentatively as I placed it down on the counter. The lady told me the price, and I dug through my pocket for the change I’d stashed there and produced it in a messy pile.”Sorry.” I mumble to her, as she looks a little annoyed.
Back at the bus, I find my bunk and tuck myself inside of it. I don’t feel particularly sad, but I feel a sudden urge to just be by myself for a little while. Reaching for my phone, I type a quick text message to your number. We still talk all the time, even though it’s not the way we used to. You know that. Nothing between us, is the same as it used to be.
“At the truck stop in Arizona...” I write.
I hit send and then lean back against the wall as I take the first sip of the coffee. Ah. It’s not fantastic coffee, it’s a little bitter, despite the sugar I’d heaped into it, but it’s a comfort. I don’t regret sending the message, but I was coming to realize that I wasn’t sure what I expected out of it. Did you even remember? My phone lights up, you’ve replied.
“Still drinking your cream with a bit of coffee in it?”
I smile. Of course you remembered.
“You know it. Don’t forget the sugar.” I type back.
“Of course not. Some things never change.” Is your response.
I smile as I suck my lower lip into my mouth, contemplating a reply. I honestly don’t have much more to say to you.
Well, that’s a lie. There are things that I could say, but it would be fruitless. They are things that I have told you before. What lies between you and I is complicated, yet silent. We share a mutual understanding of the way things were, and the way things are now. The way things have to be now. Although I can’t be totally happy about the situation, I have to pretend to be, or at least if nothing else, accept the truth. And the truth was just the way you’d said it.
Some things never change.
*Written in the same “universe” as Loaded Gun”
Part:1/1 (Part of series of short stories)
Pairing: Michelle Branch & Taylor Hanson
POV: Michelle
Genre: Het A/U
Rating: PG-13- Some light adult references.
Back Story: Michelle is on tour with Hanson one summer and her life is changed. This story takes place a few years after the time she spent with Taylor, heck, it could even be “present”.
Disclaimers:This story is based on rumours and my interpretations of them, in a strictly fictional matter. I claim no responsibility for similarities and nothing is intended to be taken as fact.
Word Count: 1419
Coffee. You and your coffee. You used to drink pot after pot, I’d watch you go back time and and time to not just refill your cup, but to start another pot all together. You’d kill entire afternoons on the back of that bus, plunking your fingers against your smallest keyboard, or maybe strumming the strings of your acoustic guitar. It was an instrument that didn’t come out very often, but that was a shame. It was a beautiful instrument, with a soft sound that matched your voice so well. I loved listening to you create songs on it.
I try not to think about you when I drink coffee, I drink too much of it now to allow myself to get bogged down every time, over something, or shall I say, someone, like you. I can’t help though, now, to think of you, as the tour bus turns into an achingly familiar truck stop in Arizona. We stopped at these stops all the time, the bus needed gas or someone needed a potty break every so often. But this particular truck stop stood out.
If I wasn’t so desperate now for a hot, fresh cup of the damn stuff, I probably would have just stayed inside of the bus. The sign on top of the building reads “Java Joes” but I can’t be certain that that’s the same name it bore when you and I were together here for the first time. Name change or not, however, I’ll never forget this place, not the grey crumbling bricks or the way you looked at me.
It was the first time that you’d ever really spoke to me, at least more than formalities had allowed for. I’d been told that not only were you quiet and shy, but you were “taken” by a girl from Georgia named Natalie, as well. Just days earlier, I’d signed the contract to go on tour with you and your brothers. The auditions had been one of the scariest things I’d ever done in my life at that point.
My fingers trembled as they plucked every single carefully memorized chord, and I sung along. “Louder” your manager had kept pressing me, but I was so scared. So, so scared. Despite trying my best, I’d felt that I’d blown it. As I walked out, I remember feeling your eyes on me, and thinking that you were probably mocking me, silently to yourself. Little did I know, that you were staring because you were “fascinated”. “Fascinated” was the word your manager said that you had been when it came to me. Apparently you had done most of the convincing that it should be me who join the band for the tour. I had expected you, maybe a little too confidently, to pay a little more attention to me, but instead, you’d been pretty quiet. It resulted in me being fairly nervous.
I had been so excited to meet you again, to tour with your band, whose music I’d been listening to myself for several years at that point. Reality hit me a little harder than expected when I found myself feeling so shy around you.
The small of hot coffee greets me as I step into the shop. My eyes look around for a moment as I take in the familiar setting. I spot the coffee bar off to the right, where it had always been, and guide myself over to it, convincing myself that this really only had to be a simple thing. Just get the coffee, and then get out. I could do this.
The moment only feels heavier as I stand at the counter and reach for one of the pots in front of me. My fingers shake a little bit against the pot handle as I pour the scalding liquid into my cup, leaving a generous amount of cream and sugar that I still load into it.
“Do you even taste the coffee?” were your words as you watched me prepare my drink.
“Of course.” I had smiled, though I know I was blushing as I spoke. “Though, maybe not as much as you do.” I finished, smiling as I looked at your cup, which was filled solely with dark liquid.
“Yours is barely coffee. You’ve got enough dairy there to nurse a baby cow.” Your laugh rolled past your lips as your blue eyes flickered to mine.
“Do you have something against baby cows?” I asked, feigning offense.
“Oh, not at all. Veal is very tasty, you know.” You smirked, your thin lips curling up into a cheshire grin as your eyes sparkled. It was one of your real smiles. The kind that you wore when you were really, truly amused or happy about something, instead of the fake one that I knew you painted on at other times. Anyone that knows you, knows the difference between these. At least, I should hope.
“So you’re saying that you want to eat me?” I asked you, catching you off guard a little, if I had to guess.
“Well...” It was your turn now to blush, the first time I’d managed to paint your skin pink, from the tops of your cheeks, to the tips of your ears. I thought it was extra adorable.
“Maybe not in the same sense.” You smirked before quickly turning away, leaving me unable to reply before you headed to the cash register.
My skin had burned as the meaning of your words set in, my heart taking off like a roller coasting rolling over the top of the hill. Plummeting faster and faster as I realized that you had just flirted with me.
I’d always thought you were so attractive, so beautiful, even. There were times on the bus, that we’d be int he back lounge, you’d be writing your songs, or maybe even playing video games with Zac. I’d be there too, pretending to be reading a book. I say pretending, because in truth, I spent more time looking over the pages, instead of at them. I’d peek over the top of the page and drag my eyes over the shapes of your features, memorizing each and every little detail. The little dip in your nose, or the little scar under your lip, the mole on your jaw line.
I carried my cup of coffee up to the cashier, smiling tentatively as I placed it down on the counter. The lady told me the price, and I dug through my pocket for the change I’d stashed there and produced it in a messy pile.”Sorry.” I mumble to her, as she looks a little annoyed.
Back at the bus, I find my bunk and tuck myself inside of it. I don’t feel particularly sad, but I feel a sudden urge to just be by myself for a little while. Reaching for my phone, I type a quick text message to your number. We still talk all the time, even though it’s not the way we used to. You know that. Nothing between us, is the same as it used to be.
“At the truck stop in Arizona...” I write.
I hit send and then lean back against the wall as I take the first sip of the coffee. Ah. It’s not fantastic coffee, it’s a little bitter, despite the sugar I’d heaped into it, but it’s a comfort. I don’t regret sending the message, but I was coming to realize that I wasn’t sure what I expected out of it. Did you even remember? My phone lights up, you’ve replied.
“Still drinking your cream with a bit of coffee in it?”
I smile. Of course you remembered.
“You know it. Don’t forget the sugar.” I type back.
“Of course not. Some things never change.” Is your response.
I smile as I suck my lower lip into my mouth, contemplating a reply. I honestly don’t have much more to say to you.
Well, that’s a lie. There are things that I could say, but it would be fruitless. They are things that I have told you before. What lies between you and I is complicated, yet silent. We share a mutual understanding of the way things were, and the way things are now. The way things have to be now. Although I can’t be totally happy about the situation, I have to pretend to be, or at least if nothing else, accept the truth. And the truth was just the way you’d said it.
Some things never change.
February 9 2012, 06:16:16 UTC 3 months ago
February 9 2012, 08:26:57 UTC 3 months ago
<3
February 10 2012, 04:00:52 UTC 3 months ago
February 11 2012, 22:33:19 UTC 3 months ago
February 11 2012, 23:21:01 UTC 3 months ago