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Riker:
He wasn't saying a word to you. Just sitting across the room, watching you pack everything up. You hadn't planned on leaving so soon. But you just couldn't be around him if he was going to bring back old drama. He was never going to learn. You had used up all your tears in the conversation you had just had, begging him to think all of this through. He claimed he had and that this was the right decision. You couldn't accept that. So you had to go. There was no room for you over here anymore. He told you she would be moving back in, and you certainly didn't want to be around when that happened. You didn't even want to think about the conversation you would have with her if in her presence. This was so difficult. You had fought so hard and thought you had won. You lost though, in the worst possible way. You were losing one of your closest friends. You knew the moment you walked out of this house, things between the two of you would be different. You look up at him. He's still just sitting in the armchair in the corner. His elbow resting on the arm as his hand covers his mouth. His eyes meet yours, but you feel nothing. There is no connection. It usually only takes you seconds to get lost in his stare, but there is absolutely nothing between you anymore. The days leading up to this had been torture. He didn't want to tell you anything, knowing this would most certainly be the outcome. If he didn't want this to happen, then why did he go back to her? That was a question you would never know the answer to. He wasn't willing to answer it. He didn't know the answer, the true answer that is. Or at least that's what you thought. He kept telling you that he still loved her and really wanted things to work out because he knew deep down that they were meant to be together. You had to deal with that answer. You didn't have to accept it, which you absolutely did not, but deal with it, you had to. If he was going to give you excuses, which is what you took his reasons to be, you weren't sure you wanted to be here. The eerie tension between the two of you leading up to this moment helped that decision along. You had made it pretty obvious earlier in the week that you knew what he was up to, and you waited and waited on him to address it. It was his doing, so you felt it was his job to bring it up. He never did. But when you finally did, a couple of days ago, everything blew up in your face. Obviously, because now you were the one packing to go home. He wasn't even trying to stop you. You look around the room, making sure you have collected everything. You walk past him and into the bathroom, looking for anything else you might have left behind. Everything has been cleared out, even the things you had permanently left here. You aren't sure you're ever going to come back. Just that single thought brings more tears. You were so sure they had all gone. You quickly wipe them away; they make you look weak. If he could do this with a stone face, so could you. You walk back out of the bathroom, past him, and over to the bed where your bag still sits. You zip it up slowly. In your mind you want him to stop you. You want him to tell you to not leave, that he is going to tell her that she at least can't move back in. That's what is really making you leave. He knows that. Why hasn't he said anything? You want to scream at him to stop you. You didn't want to leave. You wanted to stay with him, to help him. He obviously doesn't want that. You take in a deep breath and pull your bag onto your shoulder. There's still time, you think. You look over to him. He's looking at you. Say it! Say anything! Your mind was begging him. Nothing comes, though. You nod, the silence was your answer. "Bye," you say quietly, choking on your emotions, as the tears return, fogging your vision of him. "Bye."
Ross:
You were so excited to have him back. It wasn't for very long, but you were getting back into the touring routine. Every little break he had meant time you could spend with him. You had been working hard these last couple of days to show him that nothing between you had changed. You still had the same relationship as you did a year ago, or two years ago, everything was the same. He seemed to be easing back into the idea, even though you weren't sure why there had ever been a doubt in his mind. There had been more phone calls and more Skype sessions happening, the distance not even being an issue. This was the Ross you were used to. You were waiting on a phone call now. One from him that would tell you when he had landed back in town. He had given you an estimated time, but that time had passed by three hours ago. Maybe there was a delay or an unexpected layover. You had tried to call him a couple of times, but everything went straight to voicemail. You were left to wait. The hours pass and worry begins to set in. Surely by now he would have been in touch. You grab your phone and scroll through the contacts, making your selection and putting the phone to your ear. "Hello," a calming voice answers after a few rings. "Hi Stormie, has Ross landed yet, do you know?" "Oh, yes, dear. He landed in London a couple of hours ago." London? He wasn't meant to be in London. "Oh. Do you know when he's meant to be up here?" "Up here? Oh love, I don't think he's planning on coming up this time. At least he hasn't said anything to me about it." You don't know what to say. "Oh, okay. Thank you." You hang up the phone there and just stand in silence. He hadn't believed you at all this week. Everything you had done to keep him close, it meant nothing to him. His mind was already set. Set in his own way of thinking, he had completely written you off. He was ignoring you now, knowing all of the questions that would come if you were to get the chance to speak. He isn't planning on giving you that chance, and you know it. As confusion sweeps over you, you take a seat in the floor of the kitchen. How had it come to this? Had you let him down this bad? He wasn't even willing to talk to you. He had seemed so happy this past week. Making time for you, and always checking in. What had caused the change? You begin to think back at the week. Trying to remember anything that may have caused this, specifically in the last day or so. Cameron. You had gone out with Cameron yesterday. It hadn't even registered with you, though. Spending time with him came so natural. Someone must have been taking pictures. You could always rely on someone to share your life with everyone else around the world. But even still, Ross had promised to call when he landed and that was after he would have seen the pictures, surely. You can't understand his actions. You had always thought Ross to be such a support system in your life, someone you can always fall back on. He isn't here now. You need him. You need to talk to him. But he isn't here. This has never happened. In the twenty years you had known Ross, he was always the first person you called on whenever you were feeling down, or just needed someone to talk to. Everything was falling apart though. All because you had brought someone else into the picture. But how is this your fault? You aren't even dating Rodd, you never have. So why is it that when Cameron shows up, Ross is unrecognizable? Maybe he was right though, maybe things were changing.
Rocky:
You had never seen so many people standing outside of the airport before. Certainly not just for one of them. This wasn't just for him though, it was for you as well. "I'm not even believing this," you say as the car pulls into the drop-off lane. There were cameras flashing and fans screaming. "Well believe it, cause it's happening," Rocky returns, getting out of the car to the screams and walking around to your side. The driver gets your bag from the trunk and hands it to Rocky who slips it onto his shoulder as he opens your door. He reaches in, and you take his hand, gripping it tightly as you emerge from the car. "We're going to miss you, (y/n)!" One of the girls shouts as Rocky leads you through the crowd. You can't help but smile, they had always been so nice to you. He squeezes your hand a couple of times to let you know he feels the same as the fans. Once inside, the noise is deadened. He walks with you over to the kiosk, your hands still holding onto one another. You didn't want to let go of him. "Leaving already?" The lady behind the desk asks as she checks you in, the staff here were always kept up to date on the group's travels. "Yeah," you say sorrowfully, looking over at Rocky who is giving you a smile. "Well we hope to see you back soon." "Thanks, me too." You put your ticket in your passport and follow Rocky back out into the open space. You can still see the flashing lights of the cameras outside, all eyes were on the two of you in this moment. "Thanks for coming to see me this weekend," he begins. You look up at him, eyes glossing over, and all you can do is bury your head in his chest. "Oh, don't," he pleads as he wraps his arms tightly around you. He rocks with you in his arms not worrying about all of the eyes that were watching. You turn your head away from the airport entrance, keeping your cheek pressed to him, but not allowing the media to get pictures of your now red and teary eyed face. "It's time to go back to work, for both of us." You pull back and look up at him. "I just miss you so much when I'm over there." You were stating the obvious, of course he already knew this. "Yeah, I know you do. But you're doing what you love. It's your time to do that now. You've been watching me live out my dream, and now it's your turn." It was like you were reliving the very first time you left for New York. If you have to constantly be reminded about how much you should be enjoying your life in New York, are you really enjoying it? There was no time for questioning things, you had to get through security. You wrap your arms around Rocky's neck and he latches onto your waist. "I love you," he says into your ear before pressing a kiss to your cheek. You loosen your arms and pull away slightly, still very close to his face. You were sure everyone out side was loving this. "I love you," you reply before kissing him. Not even the closed doors could keep out the fan's screams now, and you can't help but chuckle at the sudden burst of noise. "There's that smile I've been wanting to see." You keep your smile as you press one more kiss to his lips. "I'll call you later on when I land," you say and he nods. You remove your arms from his neck and take a deep breath. "Time to get back to work." "That's my girl," he responds proudly, pressing a kiss to your forehead before allowing you to take a step back. You didn't want to say goodbye, you hated those. And by the look on his face, he wasn't going to say it either. You chuckle at the stubbornness between you. "I love you," you say as you begin to walk backwards. "I love you, be safe." You nod and send him another kiss before finally turning around to go through security.
Ellington:
This is different. You sit in your apartment, alone for the first time in a while. No one was in the bed with you. No one was down the hall, in the kitchen, making breakfast or shouting at the game on the television. You were the only one here. You didn't have to be concerned about waking anyone else up, or doing an extra set of laundry. You hadn't been on your own in so long you weren't even sure what to do with the freedom. Is freedom the right word? You aren't quite sure because this just doesn't feel right. You had said goodbye to him this morning, but everything was wrong about it. You still can't get the image out of your mind. The look in Ellington's eyes when he left the apartmet at that very early hour this morning; it's haunting you. It almost felt like you were doing this to him. Like you were causing him physical pain by telling him goodbye. You weren't making him leave though. He had no choice. He had put off his flight to Australia as long as he possibly could. You had done the calculations after he had left and were sure he wasn't even going to make it to the rehearsal Ross had set a few days ago that they were going to be having before the first show started. He was not going to be making that at all. You were worried for Ellington. He had spent all of this time with you, away from LA, almost like he was living another life. How was he going to fair stepping back into his old life? The life that had given him so much and was still continuing to give him so much. You just didn't understand the negative with any of it. You would be keeping a very watchful eye on him, or as much as you could from across the world, and asking Ross to do the same. You and Ross had teamed up over these last few days in order to figure out what exactly was happening with Ellington. No matter how much you wanted to believe that he had spent all that time with you simply because he loves you and wants you to know that this new life he has brought you into will all turn out fine, you just couldn't. This ran deeper than that, you were sure of it. Ross promised to look out for him. It wasn't like he would be able to fly to France whenever he wanted to escape. There is no escape now. His responsibilities have officially caught up to him, and neither you nor Ross are quite sure what is going to happen as a result. You still don't know much about tour life yet, but by the look on Ellington's face when he left- the look that won't be leaving your mind- this round was going to be a rough one.
Ryland:
" Where were you?" The question was a simple one, but it caught you off guard as being the first thing you heard when you walked through the door. You look over to see Ryland sitting on the couch, the television turned off, and an art magazine lying open beside him. "Gwen's sister didn't get off work on time so we had a late dinner," you answer simply as you hang your coat up in the closet by the front door. "You could have told someone," he counters. "I told you I was going out with them for dinner," you return. "And when I asked for a time you didn't give me one. What if I had plans for us?" "You didn't say anything about having plans Ryland." You close the closet door and turn to face him. "Well if I did, they're fucked now," he growls, getting up and walking off. No, no, no. This is not happening. Not after everything that has been happening these last few weeks. This is not going to turn into a fight. You are not going to let it. You follow him through the house and up into his studio. "Get out," he hisses. You stop your advance in the doorway, the tears fogging your vision. Why was this falling apart so quickly? "Ryland, what is the matter?" You question softly, so he knows you aren't here to argue. "You won't get out of my face, that's what's the matter." You close your eyes and try again, you weren't giving up that easily. "Ryland, please, just talk to me." "I've talked to you enough tonight." "You've barely said a word!" You couldn't help it, you had to raise your voice. "And what I said, I mean. Now, get out!" Defeat. You remove yourself from the doorway, retracing your steps back to the front door. You grab your coat from the closet and exit the house. You can't make yourself leave the steps though. Had he completely forgotten about these last few weeks? Did they not mean anything to him? You had worked so hard to get him back. Putting absolutely everything you had into these last few weeks in order to save your relationship. You had stood up for him when not even he could, and yet here you stand out in the cold London air, unsure of what the next step is. This isn't how tonight was supposed to go. You knew you were possibly pushing it when you didn't call to let him know you would be home later than expected. But that is something you would have done with the old Ryland. But that's the Ryland you would be coming home to, and you didn't even know it. That Ryland was sitting up in his studio now, and you wanted so badly to just go up and hold him. You know he is struggling with something, but he isn't going to let you in far enough to figure it out. You're already outside, knowing you won't be returning in to him. He doesn't want you here, he had made that very clear and you weren't up for playing defense. You take your phone out of your pocket. you needed a place to stay tonight. "Hey babe," Gwen answers cheerfully. "I'm coming over, okay?" You say, hoping she would leave the questioning until later. "Yeah, sure. I'll unlock the door for you." "Thanks." You hang up and walk to your car. You didn't want to do this. You didn't want to leave. You wanted to be in there, even if it meant a fight. You didn't want all of this to start back up again. Gwen was going to tell you it was inevitable. That someone like him can only be on his best behavior for so long before he cracks. And he was starting to crack.
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hiii, so i dont know if ill be able to update saturday because of my cousins graduation. i promise to post either sunday or monday!!
--callie