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Fact and Fiction

Summary: Two-part songfic. A/H. Incomplete. Fiction by B2ST. "In case you leave me, the background is a small room without an exit."

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Reading Mode



*sighs* Happens every time… *underappreciated*

*is only vying for attention by this point*

*needs a life*

*should probably get one*

*is satisfied with no-life’ness if it includes kpop*

Here’s my Christmas present to all you angst lovers ^^ Hopefully, it lives up to your standards~ Read, comment, rate, whatever. Jus’ enjoy~

Ah~ *hums* Anyway, trying out something new. Tell me how it works. Does it suck more than usual? Do you hate me? (No response means yes. ^^)

Fiction by B2ST.

DISCLAIMER: … … Whatever. Just shut up. Stop rubbing it in. *swats lawyers away*

~I still can’t forget you

~I still can’t trust everything

~Even today I can’t send you away like this

It’s day eighty.

Perhaps this qualifies for a celebration of sort, but it’s not necessarily the eighty-day anniversary of something good (a wedding, a relationship, a momentous event or accomplishment), something he’s proud of.

It’s been eighty days.

It kinda puts things into perspective.

~I will rewrite it again; our story will not end

~I will bury the fact that reality is seeping into my skin for now

~I will rewrite it once again, the start beginning with me and you smiling happily

~In case you leave me, the background is a small room without an exit

“… and speaking of which, today’s a very special day to our beloved Mr. Cher down in the science wing!” the voice says. “If you see him, please be sure to wish him a happy birthday. Students, have a –”

“—great afternoon,” Artemis finishes under his breath, physically suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. His fingers flex (impatiently) from underneath the table, but he only counts to three, then whispers — just as the teacher does — “Class dismissed.”

Artemis stands up quickly (he almost trips in his haste, in fact), messenger bag already packed. He slides out into the aisle and scurries out the door, anticipating his return to the dorms.

~I kiss you as if there is nothing wrong

~I can’t leave your sweet presence

~There is no such thing as an end for us

He turns on his computer even as he kicks off his loafers (carelessly), peels off his coat (haphazardly). The worn leather is quickly draped over a chair as he sits down (Welcome home. Home sweet home; this is home), crossing his legs and shifting several times before settling into a position with his chin rested (forlornly) on his hand. Artemis’ sharp eyes almost critically follow the loading bar. He hopes (fleetingly, for more pressing matters are at hand) that his roommate has soccer practice today – he always feels uncomfortable when others are around, even if they never looked quite close enough to realize what he was really doing.

~Like this again (fiction, in fiction)

~I can’t forget you (fiction, in fiction)

~I am writing the story that will never end in my heart

If Artemis stopped his frantic typing, paused in his jerky movements and stepped back to look at himself and where he was, he might’ve worried. Worried himself with how he was taking things the way he was, which was the way he shouldn’t be taking them.

Here was his release. (Let go)

Here was his hope. (Believe)

Here lay his dreams. (Close your eyes)

How raw, how emotional, how sentimental.

He didn’t even want to think about his one hundred eighty degree turn away from rationality.

Don’t think (though I should).

~I will hold on to you (fiction, in fiction)

~I won’t let you go (fiction, in fiction)

~Even today, I live in our story that still hasn’t ended in fiction

And then it turns on.

It’s on.

Game on; game start.

~Right now, there are only happy stories here

~The very happy stories of just the two of us (different from reality)

~Are written here, it’s slowly filling up

He flexes his fingers once more, satisfied, and clacks out more words. Adds to the ones already burned across the screen in an unearthly, unhealthy glow. His pale face reflects it right back (as if he’s a ghost, an echo or shadow or shell or imprint or fossil of his former self).

It’s funny how someone who didn’t understand English could stare at the screen for hours on end without a clue as to what the words spelled out, but those who spoke it well could tell that his heart had been (fully, completely, totally, horrifically bloodily) poured into the pixels.

~I run towards you and embrace you

~I can’t ever let you go from my embrace

~There is no such thing as an end for us

The hours slip past. He pauses only for a sip of water, a cracker. At the very most, he takes a thirty minute break to crank out tonight’s homework. His backpack sits at his feet, wide open – he hadn’t bothered to zip it up when he finished. Even the books are still strewn across his desk; they’re simply pushed to one side as he continues.

~Like this again (fiction, in fiction)

~I can’t end it (fiction, in fiction)

~I am writing the story that will never end in my heart

He doesn’t know what time it is when his eyes finally (reluctantly) flutter closed.

His roommate wakes him up sometime later, shaking him, telling him that class would start soon.

“Thanks,” Artemis says. Angeline had taught him manners. His voice is rough, rusty, from lack of use (when had he last spoken?).

“You’re welcome,” his roommate says. Artemis doesn’t even know his name; it was something rather peculiar, in his defense (should he know? Should he care?).

(He probably doesn’t like Artemis much anyway, he knows.)

~I will hold on to you (fiction, in fiction)

~I won’t let you go (fiction, in fiction, in fiction)

~Even today, I live in our story that still hasn’t ended in fiction

Day eighty-one. It’s quite the same as day eighty.

“If you want to apply for the debate team, stop by at the office this afternoon. Forms are due tomorrow,” the voice says from the speaker. Artemis sits with one leg tightly crossed over the other, chin resting morosely on the palm of his hand (he adopts this position often). He almost pouts.

“… Good luck to the wrestling team! Students, have a –”

“—great afternoon.”

He taps his foot on the tiled floor – once, twice. “Class dismissed.”

And he leaves.

And he returns home.

And he writes.

Sometime later, his roommate walks in and dumps his duffel bag by his bed. There’s shuffling, but mainly silence. Artemis has already clicked onto his backup window, a research website, so it looks like he’s been studying.

Finally, the other boy says, “Do you know what the LA homework was?”

“Chapters five through eight in Where the Red Fern Grows,” Artemis says quickly. “Quiz tomorrow on the reading.” Leave me alone.

He does.

Artemis starts up again like he’s never stopped.

~I will say this again, one more time

~Right now, you are next to me

~I believe that (but fiction)

Today is day one hundred and fifty. His fingers move mechanically, robbed of their previous grace. His eyes (one blue, the other hazel; the other hers) stare without quite seeing. The beats of his heart sound against his chest as if they are labored (are they sluggish?).

Artemis knows the quality of his work is deteriorating some (lots), crumbling from what it once was (never to return to its former glory). His grammar is becoming more questionable over the days.

His will is snapping.

~I’m the writer who lost his purpose

~The end of this novel; how am I supposed to write it?(My own fiction)

He fumbles with the keys, then decides to pause.

One, two, three, four, five. In and out. Such a task. Such a task.

His heart trips mid-beat. It’s had enough.


~I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you

~I keep writing these three words (everything is fiction)

~Setting the worn pen on the tear-stained paper (everything is fiction)

~This story can’t be happy or sad

Ira tugs at his collar. It’s chafing his skin and the tie feels like a vice around his neck.

“Would you like to say anything as his roommate?” the man before him asks gently. Ira nods. He knows he has to.

He measures out his steps to the podium, feeling as if his nerves will trip up his feet, his words.

“Hello?” The single word rings out in the silent room. Ira fidgets awkwardly for half of a second before nervously tucking some hair behind his ear. When it falls again, he wonders if he should bother fixing it back in place.

“Hello,” Ira says again. “My name is Ira. I am – I was Artemis’ roommate.

“I’ve never known Artemis too well, actually, even though we shared the same space for several years. He always remained as something of a mysterious character. He would disappear for days, weeks a time and jump right back into the school schedule like nothing had happened, like nothing had changed, and like he’d never gone in the first place. He didn’t talk to anyone much; he never initiated conversations. No one understood him. Outside, Artemis was expressionless and emotionless. I’ve wondered what he’s like inside. I’ve wondered if there was a reason why he was the way he was.

“Then one day, in the middle of the school year, he seemed sad. It wasn’t that he was talking less, because he seldom spoke at all, but his face looked pasty and his lips were pulled into a perpetual frown. We didn’t know what happened. We didn’t think much of it. In the days to come, he maintained this demeanor. He never told us why. We weren’t close to him. We didn’t know him. It shouldn’t hurt that he’s gone now.

“It’s a great loss for someone to die so young, though. It’s a great loss to our community. It’s a great loss to his family. It’s a great loss that we’ve never been able to befriend him or approach him. And I know that if we knew he was a dying man, we’d’ve taken the chance and invited him in, smiled at him in the hallways. Death puts things into perspective. As Steve Jobs once said, we should live like every day is our last, like the world is about to end. What would we have lost, anyway? What have we lost… by never trying?”

Someone sniffles. His job is done.

Ira steps down from the podium, shuffling his way to the back of the crowd once more. This time, he does trip mid-step, falls flat on his face. When Ira stands up again, he realizes that no one has laughed, no one has giggled. It’s just silent.

~Right now, I’m writing such a happy story

~But it’s all still a wish

~I’m happy (fiction, in fiction, in fiction)

~We are together (fiction, in fiction, in fiction)

~Now is the start (fiction, in fiction, in fiction)

~There is no end (fiction, in fiction, in fiction)


Comments on This Post

14 responses to “Fact and Fiction.” Join in!

  1. You. Finally. Freaking. Wrote. A new fic. *squeals* Gosh, I was so excited when I saw this. Yay. 😀 Love the song, by the way. <3

    So, concrit, concrit, concrit…


    I'm surprised. This was…for lack of a better word, perfect. A very well-rounded fic, the perfect balance of angst and hope…is simply amazing. It's always hard to review on your fics, because I don't know how to concrit them. But this was…beautiful. I just had to say that. :3

    500000000/5 stars. <333


  2. WE… You are awesome. You almost made me cry. I didn’t see any mistakes(as usual). Aaaaaaaaand. You almost made me cry.

    Artemis died…
    I want to continue it nao. Fanfiction of fanfiction… hmm…

  3. Of course, no mistakes WE. You are a powerful writer, and you almost made me sad. Almost, WE, that’s a hard thing to do, good job.

  4. Aw! beautiful, sad, but beautiful. I like how you write. no mistakes that i saw. 5 stars!

  5. Aw, WE! It’s so sad! I love it! And the song… I think I just fell in love with it. XD

    And because it’s you, there are obviously no mistakes. I just wasn’t sure what most of the parentheses were for. With most of those, you could just put a comma and have what was inside after the comma.

    But other than that… infinity stars. ^^

  6. Wow. I really love it. What happened to make Artemis like that? I love how you incorporated the song, too. Wow, wow, wow.

    (I remember you! I was just ghosting around when you weren’t an editor, and I remember you from then, as well as now.)

  7. WE!!!! OF COURSE I remember you. You remember me too, don’t you? Me? Hermione? You do, don’t you…?

    Anyway! Very good, as usual. But too many brackets. Like when you would say what Artemis was doing, then put in a what-do-you-call-it…adjective? The doing word. All the names confuse me. 🙂
    And you should add a background story. Tell all about why he was sad, and what happened exactly with him and Holly.

  8. I REMEMBER YOU!!!! *hugs WE*

    What can I say? No mistakes (duh, you’re you).
    Luv your work! Keep it up!

  9. Hey, you see that thing at the top that says it’s not complete? That’s actually not because I was too lazy to click “finished”. There’s a second part ^^ so it’s coming. Working on it~ your comments only make me writer faster ^^ HWAITING!

    Sara/Bobo: Muchas gracias, mi amiga! To tell the truth, I love all reviews anyway ^^ You could say “asdfljkajlkfdajkljklafd” and I’d prolly still love you. But I’d have to delete it. Because it’s spam ^^ Glad to know I have something of a fan ^^ And yes, the song IS awesome. I just looked at the lyrics and inspiration literally reared up and smacked me across the face, like, “WE. YOU BETTER EFFIN’ WRITE THIS PLOT BUNNY. GO DO IT. NOW.”

    I_C: I’ve actually seen that before (fanfiction of fanfiction). Haha, it’s kinda funny ^^ but as I said, I’m writing something of a sequel/prequel. The facts are still blurry (hahahha. You’ll get it when I post). Nice knowing that I have some effect on people ^^ *proud*

    Kristin: Gracias ^^ Almost there, eh? ^^

    huntress: Thanks, I was trying something new ^^

    Trubs: ‘Tis why I love kpop, no? I know I could’ve, but it’s supposed to show… I don’t know, like some forbidden side that you’re not supposed to see. It conveys the true desparation of the situation. They’re like inner thoughts. They’re the important words ^^

    ArtfullyInsane: I know you have. You happen to stalk me on ^^ Don’t worry, all will be revealed. Coming up in theaters in your area ^^

    ‘MIONE! *glomp* But of course, Ms. Angst! Adverbs, btw~ adjectives describe a noun, adverbs describe a verb, an adjective, or another adverb. They’re there for a reason ^^ Either that, or I failed on symbolism. *mopes* Dun’ worry, I’ll get to writing ^^ You guys’ve been so good to me; four reviews a day~ *so proud*

    ILoveFowl: OHAIDAR. *hugs back* Thanks, bud ^^ I will. If I can. ^^ More writing during break (maybe. I got relatives visiting and whatnot~ I barely see them, so I gotta spend time with them ^^)

  10. WOW… too much to say. and all like “that dear..incredible!” or “Oh my GOSH”. You know, I’m the new guy in this amazing world of factions .YOU (who makes me cry) are the most shiny star in its sky. LOVE YOU

  11. Hi, it was great.

  12. LEPofficerHollyShort February 15th, 2012 at 5:47 am 12

    Wow, no other word describes this story better than absolutely perfect.

  13. imfowltothebone April 17th, 2012 at 9:12 pm 13

    hey another song fic from you, its been a long time since i have seen one and it was on another website (you know the one WE) anyway i already rated five stars. check. writing a nice reveiw. half check because i am still doing it. saying check on my comment. check. there we go

  14. I missed you, Grammar Nazi! I love this SO MUCH!!! You get a COOKIE (from me, that’s a big compliment)!!! Did Holly die or something?

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