Infinity: Prologue/?
Oct. 24th, 2010 10:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sunshine_173Title: Infinity
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sunshine_173
Rating: PG
Pairing: BellDom/Original character(s)
Summary: Matt is a piano protégé. Dom is a painter who excels passed many his age. They meet at a young age and strike up an instant friendship. From friends to lovers, this is their story, spanning over a course of over two decades.
Feedback: Is completely welcome. It makes me all sorts of happy. Feel free to critique, but be nice, yeah ^^
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse, Matt or Dom. If I did, unspeakable acts would be committed.
Note: Infinite love tolalalive23 for being my plot doctor, beta, soundtrack supervisor, and all-over amazing woman. Without her, the Fic would probably have never ended up on LJ. Love you bbface. Also, massive love and thank you's to flavoroftea, who is an absolute doll and been there since I first had the dream which started the flame of this.
*Sophia is based off oflalalive23 and her character Ellen from her FF Written in the Walls. You should totes go read it, it's beautiful.
**So if you've gone through my journal, then you know I write bits here and there. But, alas, this is the first FF I've started with a heavy intention of finishing. So, bear with me, I might not update fast, but I'm working on it like a mofo.
Cautious grey eyes looked surreptitiously around the large room, taking in the surroundings and checking off a mental to-do list. His fingers tapped nervously on his left bicep as he crossed and uncrossed his arms. He paced back and forth, muttering to himself next to a floor-to-ceiling window, biting his full bottom lip as his eyes continued to dart around the rather large crowd of people milling about, conversing and critiquing. Ambient classical music flowed gently from speakers hoisted up on high, cream colored walls, the bright lighting on the various paintings and sculptures heavily contrasting the shadows surrounding them. The blonde inhaled and held his breath, turning around to stare out the window and look at the sky, smiling at the finger-like streaks of pink and yellow that still remained from the setting sun. He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb, and exhaled slowly. He turned around and held his head a fraction higher than it had been, placing his hands on his hips.
Everything will be fine. Why am I still worrying about this?
He observed a small group of women in the center of the room standing near his most beloved piece – a painting of a young man laying on a wooden floor next to a window, surrounded by a mass of white sheets, a blissful smile on his sleeping face. The group emitted a few sighs and giggled quietly, but one woman in particular seemed to stand out from the others. She stared at the work, almost pensively, and tapped a long forefinger against a bitten bottom lip. A soft line of confusion appeared between the blonde’s eyebrows for a millisecond as he wondered why she was so taken by that certain painting. He watched her as she smiled softly, dipping her head down and hugging herself as she spun on her heel to move onto the next piece.
She stared at a small painting for several seconds before looking up suddenly, dark furrowed brown eyes looking around the museum till they caught with the blonde’s grey ones. He looked away, embarrassed from being caught staring so blatantly, and dipped his head down to the side, peeking at her sideways from under his lashes. She was still watching him, an amused expression on her youthful but sharp features. She walked towards him slowly at first, unsurely, before she gained a semblance of confidence after a moment and quickened her stride, and in a few steps she was standing next to him and gazing out the window he so previously was.
“I take it you’re Mr. Howard.” Her soft voice stated fact rather than questioned as she crossed her arms and turned halfway towards him, quickly assessing him, a small smile gracing her lips.
He raised his eyebrows, glancing quickly at a sign next to the front door with his face on it. “Yes, that’s me.”
She nodded her head slowly. “You’re a stunning artist. Specifically Untitled1. There’s just something about it.”
“Thank you, it’s a personal piece.”
He looked down, smiling to himself.
“Not to be rude, but it seems like the entire collection is personal, and revolving around one specific muse.” She turned around and gestured to the room. “And with this splendid music, it completes the atmosphere. Erik Satie is such a beast.”
He laughed quietly at her comment and turned fully towards her, reaching out his hand. “I’m Dominic, by the way. None of this Mr. Howard nonsense. It makes me sound too much like my father.”
She grasped his hand firmly, the strength in which she shook his hand surprising him slightly. “Hello Dominic, it’s lovely to be of your acquaintance. I’m Sophia.” He took this short moment to fully look over her. She was young, early twenties at most, with long dark hair tied loosely in a low ponytail. Her complexion was fair and clear, lips pale pink, eyes large and brown, rimmed with the longest eyelashes. She had a slender neck and a tall, but slight, build, an American accent tinting her speech. “May I ask you a question?” He nodded. “Excuse me if I’m being too forward, but in a lot of your artwork you paint the same man, or the just his eyes. Who is he to you?”
Dominic grimaced slightly, opening his mouth before closing it, and going about in the fashion for a few moments, much like a fish forced into the air. “A…uhm, friend. A friend.” He nodded quickly as if agreeing with himself on the title. Sophia raised a single, elegant eyebrow at him and quirked her head. “Well, lover.” She smiled and nodded once.
“What’s his name?”
“Matt. Er, Bellamy. Matt Bellamy.” He reached up and rubbed the side of his face before sighing.
“You don’t seem too confident in your lover’s name.”
“It’s…It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him.” He cocked his head suddenly and turned to look her fully in the eyes, a small knot of unease settling in his stomach. “Why do you ask?”
“Oh! Sorry, you must’ve thought I was a stalker or something.” She chuckled to herself. “Well, see. Seven years ago I was admitted into Juilliard, you know, that music school? I was in the music department and I had a private tutor for the piano. He was the best of his grade, hell the entire school, and had a lot of free time so he’d help lower classmen out and teach them tricks. My teacher at the time assigned me to him and said he’d be very beneficial. He was my tutor for a little under a year till he graduated. He said I was his favorite ‘cause I reminded him of a good friend from back in London, but I never heard from him once he left. So, you can imagine my surprise when my sister mentioned a new artist was having a showcase at the Chelsea Art Museum, and the moment I walk in I see those amazing eyes of his staring at me. So I guess you’re his good friend?”
Dominic stared at her when she finished speaking, his eyes wide. “Well.” He laughed quietly to himself, bemused. “I uh, I guess I am. I think I remember him mentioning you before, but I have a goldfish memory.” He smiled shyly at a couple who walked by and nodded to him.
“So…how did you meet? If you don’t mind, of course.” Her eyes were genuine and he found himself finding an unusual draw to her.
“It’s a very, very long story.” His eyes fluttered closed and he sighed. “A very long story.” He repeated softly, almost to himself more than to her.
She caught on to his reluctance with a slight widening of her eyes and she nodded. A sudden movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he looked up to see a woman waving her hands quickly in their direction. “Well,” Sophia started. “That would be my sister. I better go calm her down before she knocks something over. She’s ridiculously hyper.” She giggled while she looked down, reaching her hand into a purse under her right arm. She pulled her hand out and handed a small white and black modern-looking card to Dominic. “This is my card, if you ever want to talk. I don’t sleep much, so you don’t have to worry about the time. I just…I really cared for Matthew. He’s an amazing pianist and just such a good guy, you would know. He said that he thought if you and I ever met we’d be great friends, so I find it funny to meet you after so long.”
Dominic took the card from her, noticing a silver and black intricate band on her left ring finger. He glanced at the card before he put it in his jean pocket. She saluted him and turned on her heal, walking swiftly to the jumping figure near the door.
He sighed, fingering the edge of the card in his pocket as he watched her run across the street laughing through the window.
The night was cool when Dominic sat suddenly up, a sweat breaking across his head and his heart pounding as he awoke from his nightmare. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palms, shaking his hair out of his face as he swung his legs over the side of his bed. His body shuddered as he remembered the dream, and he shook his head once more, frowning.
He blinked quickly as he turned his head, blind in the dark, till he saw the glowing blue numbers flashing 5:43 at him. He coughed, beating his chest and noticed the small card propped up against his lamp. Biting his lip, he reached out to turn the lamp on, grabbing his phone as well as the card.
He stared at his lap and released his bottom lip, reaching a shaking finger out to dial her number.
A moment passed till a hoarse voice answered. “Hello? Who is this?”
Dominic’s eyes widened. “Uhm. It’s Dominic. We met last week at my showcase.”
“Oh right!” Her soft voice started to gain some strength to it as she woke up. “How are you, Dom?”
“Dom?”
“Oh…”She laughed nervously. “Sorry, I have a friend I call Dom. You don’t mind, do you?”
“No, of course not.”
“So…what’s up?” Again, her voice was genuine. Honest. Trustworthy.
“I uh, I think I’m ready to talk. I-if you have time. I wouldn’t want to impose. I just, a lot has happened the last several months, shit the last year. And I just…I can’t go to my mom because she just keeps trying to tell me to forget and I can’t go to friends because they don’t fucking understand and I just figured it’d be easier to talk to someone who didn’t kno-”
“Dom. Dom, honey, it’s okay. Are you free for lunch?”
He breathed through his nose and exhaled, calming himself. “Yes, I’m free for the rest of the day.”
“Lovely! How about I pick you up around noon and we stop by this bookshop café I found not too long ago. It’s a great place, kind of hole-in-the-wall.”
“Yeah that sounds nice.” He could hear her scratching a pen across paper as he gave her his address, and when she hung up he lay back, staring at the ceiling and creating shapes in the shadows.
He shut his eyes and for once was not greeted by blue.
He paced nervously behind his front door, pulling at the scarf wrapped around his neck. He glanced at the clock every few seconds, the hands seeming to tick slower and slower the closer they got to the 11.
He walked to the small kitchen, grabbing the open water bottle he left on the edge of the counter.
A sudden, rapid knock on his door caused him to jump, water splashing down his face. He coughed, wiping at his mouth with the sleeve of his jumper, and shouted out. “One moment!”
He ran into the bathroom, hitting his shin on a table. He muttered a string of curses to himself, checking his appearance in the mirror and turning out of the small room almost as fast as he entered it.
He stood in front of the door, staring at it as if it was going to open another dimension and take him to another life, another time. He reached out slowly, grasping the cold knob and turning it, swinging the door open to see Sophia standing and humming to herself as she watched a squirrel run passed.
She turned towards him when she heard the door open, grinning. “Afternoon, mister.” Her grin turned into a smirk and she turned and bounded away, heading for a red car parked just a few feet away. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, turning around, smiling and shaking his head as he locked the door, following her.
They sat down in the farthest back corner of the café, earl grey in her hands and a cup of lemon tea in his. She sipped for a moment, looking around and taking in the high walls covered by dark, cherry wood bookcases, a small record player in the corner across from them. She turned her head and saw Dominic watching her, a small frown on his lips.
She smiled warmly. “Are you okay?”
He shook his head suddenly, the frown disappearing. “Sorry, guess I went away for a bit.”
Giggling, she crossed her legs and sat her cup down on the table next to her. “So…what’d you want to talk about?”
He sighed. “Matt. It seems like I can’t talk to anyone about him anymore. And the more time passes, the more it seems I want to talk about him.”
“You act like he’s run away or something.”
“Or something.”
She raised her eyebrows, settling back in the plush leather couch. “Well. How about you start from the beginning? When did you first meet?”
He looked away from her too inquisitive eyes, staring unfocused out the window. “A long time ago. He was ten. A scrawny little bastard, too.” She laughed at that, Dominic’s eyes taking on a misty quality. “That was…oh, twenty-four or so years ago. It was in Teignmouth, at his grandmother’s home.” He leaned back and turned his head towards hers, his eyes glistening. “Are you sure you want to hear all of this?”
“More sure than I have been in a long time.’
Smiling, sipped his tea and cleared his throat. “Well…”
Author:
sunshine_173 Rating: PG
Pairing: BellDom/Original character(s)
Summary: Matt is a piano protégé. Dom is a painter who excels passed many his age. They meet at a young age and strike up an instant friendship. From friends to lovers, this is their story, spanning over a course of over two decades.
Feedback: Is completely welcome. It makes me all sorts of happy. Feel free to critique, but be nice, yeah ^^
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse, Matt or Dom. If I did, unspeakable acts would be committed.
Note: Infinite love to
lalalive23 for being my plot doctor, beta, soundtrack supervisor, and all-over amazing woman. Without her, the Fic would probably have never ended up on LJ. Love you bbface. Also, massive love and thank you's to flavoroftea, who is an absolute doll and been there since I first had the dream which started the flame of this. *Sophia is based off of
lalalive23 and her character Ellen from her FF Written in the Walls. You should totes go read it, it's beautiful.**So if you've gone through my journal, then you know I write bits here and there. But, alas, this is the first FF I've started with a heavy intention of finishing. So, bear with me, I might not update fast, but I'm working on it like a mofo.
Cautious grey eyes looked surreptitiously around the large room, taking in the surroundings and checking off a mental to-do list. His fingers tapped nervously on his left bicep as he crossed and uncrossed his arms. He paced back and forth, muttering to himself next to a floor-to-ceiling window, biting his full bottom lip as his eyes continued to dart around the rather large crowd of people milling about, conversing and critiquing. Ambient classical music flowed gently from speakers hoisted up on high, cream colored walls, the bright lighting on the various paintings and sculptures heavily contrasting the shadows surrounding them. The blonde inhaled and held his breath, turning around to stare out the window and look at the sky, smiling at the finger-like streaks of pink and yellow that still remained from the setting sun. He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb, and exhaled slowly. He turned around and held his head a fraction higher than it had been, placing his hands on his hips.
Everything will be fine. Why am I still worrying about this?
He observed a small group of women in the center of the room standing near his most beloved piece – a painting of a young man laying on a wooden floor next to a window, surrounded by a mass of white sheets, a blissful smile on his sleeping face. The group emitted a few sighs and giggled quietly, but one woman in particular seemed to stand out from the others. She stared at the work, almost pensively, and tapped a long forefinger against a bitten bottom lip. A soft line of confusion appeared between the blonde’s eyebrows for a millisecond as he wondered why she was so taken by that certain painting. He watched her as she smiled softly, dipping her head down and hugging herself as she spun on her heel to move onto the next piece.
She stared at a small painting for several seconds before looking up suddenly, dark furrowed brown eyes looking around the museum till they caught with the blonde’s grey ones. He looked away, embarrassed from being caught staring so blatantly, and dipped his head down to the side, peeking at her sideways from under his lashes. She was still watching him, an amused expression on her youthful but sharp features. She walked towards him slowly at first, unsurely, before she gained a semblance of confidence after a moment and quickened her stride, and in a few steps she was standing next to him and gazing out the window he so previously was.
“I take it you’re Mr. Howard.” Her soft voice stated fact rather than questioned as she crossed her arms and turned halfway towards him, quickly assessing him, a small smile gracing her lips.
He raised his eyebrows, glancing quickly at a sign next to the front door with his face on it. “Yes, that’s me.”
She nodded her head slowly. “You’re a stunning artist. Specifically Untitled1. There’s just something about it.”
“Thank you, it’s a personal piece.”
He looked down, smiling to himself.
“Not to be rude, but it seems like the entire collection is personal, and revolving around one specific muse.” She turned around and gestured to the room. “And with this splendid music, it completes the atmosphere. Erik Satie is such a beast.”
He laughed quietly at her comment and turned fully towards her, reaching out his hand. “I’m Dominic, by the way. None of this Mr. Howard nonsense. It makes me sound too much like my father.”
She grasped his hand firmly, the strength in which she shook his hand surprising him slightly. “Hello Dominic, it’s lovely to be of your acquaintance. I’m Sophia.” He took this short moment to fully look over her. She was young, early twenties at most, with long dark hair tied loosely in a low ponytail. Her complexion was fair and clear, lips pale pink, eyes large and brown, rimmed with the longest eyelashes. She had a slender neck and a tall, but slight, build, an American accent tinting her speech. “May I ask you a question?” He nodded. “Excuse me if I’m being too forward, but in a lot of your artwork you paint the same man, or the just his eyes. Who is he to you?”
Dominic grimaced slightly, opening his mouth before closing it, and going about in the fashion for a few moments, much like a fish forced into the air. “A…uhm, friend. A friend.” He nodded quickly as if agreeing with himself on the title. Sophia raised a single, elegant eyebrow at him and quirked her head. “Well, lover.” She smiled and nodded once.
“What’s his name?”
“Matt. Er, Bellamy. Matt Bellamy.” He reached up and rubbed the side of his face before sighing.
“You don’t seem too confident in your lover’s name.”
“It’s…It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him.” He cocked his head suddenly and turned to look her fully in the eyes, a small knot of unease settling in his stomach. “Why do you ask?”
“Oh! Sorry, you must’ve thought I was a stalker or something.” She chuckled to herself. “Well, see. Seven years ago I was admitted into Juilliard, you know, that music school? I was in the music department and I had a private tutor for the piano. He was the best of his grade, hell the entire school, and had a lot of free time so he’d help lower classmen out and teach them tricks. My teacher at the time assigned me to him and said he’d be very beneficial. He was my tutor for a little under a year till he graduated. He said I was his favorite ‘cause I reminded him of a good friend from back in London, but I never heard from him once he left. So, you can imagine my surprise when my sister mentioned a new artist was having a showcase at the Chelsea Art Museum, and the moment I walk in I see those amazing eyes of his staring at me. So I guess you’re his good friend?”
Dominic stared at her when she finished speaking, his eyes wide. “Well.” He laughed quietly to himself, bemused. “I uh, I guess I am. I think I remember him mentioning you before, but I have a goldfish memory.” He smiled shyly at a couple who walked by and nodded to him.
“So…how did you meet? If you don’t mind, of course.” Her eyes were genuine and he found himself finding an unusual draw to her.
“It’s a very, very long story.” His eyes fluttered closed and he sighed. “A very long story.” He repeated softly, almost to himself more than to her.
She caught on to his reluctance with a slight widening of her eyes and she nodded. A sudden movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he looked up to see a woman waving her hands quickly in their direction. “Well,” Sophia started. “That would be my sister. I better go calm her down before she knocks something over. She’s ridiculously hyper.” She giggled while she looked down, reaching her hand into a purse under her right arm. She pulled her hand out and handed a small white and black modern-looking card to Dominic. “This is my card, if you ever want to talk. I don’t sleep much, so you don’t have to worry about the time. I just…I really cared for Matthew. He’s an amazing pianist and just such a good guy, you would know. He said that he thought if you and I ever met we’d be great friends, so I find it funny to meet you after so long.”
Dominic took the card from her, noticing a silver and black intricate band on her left ring finger. He glanced at the card before he put it in his jean pocket. She saluted him and turned on her heal, walking swiftly to the jumping figure near the door.
He sighed, fingering the edge of the card in his pocket as he watched her run across the street laughing through the window.
The night was cool when Dominic sat suddenly up, a sweat breaking across his head and his heart pounding as he awoke from his nightmare. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palms, shaking his hair out of his face as he swung his legs over the side of his bed. His body shuddered as he remembered the dream, and he shook his head once more, frowning.
He blinked quickly as he turned his head, blind in the dark, till he saw the glowing blue numbers flashing 5:43 at him. He coughed, beating his chest and noticed the small card propped up against his lamp. Biting his lip, he reached out to turn the lamp on, grabbing his phone as well as the card.
He stared at his lap and released his bottom lip, reaching a shaking finger out to dial her number.
A moment passed till a hoarse voice answered. “Hello? Who is this?”
Dominic’s eyes widened. “Uhm. It’s Dominic. We met last week at my showcase.”
“Oh right!” Her soft voice started to gain some strength to it as she woke up. “How are you, Dom?”
“Dom?”
“Oh…”She laughed nervously. “Sorry, I have a friend I call Dom. You don’t mind, do you?”
“No, of course not.”
“So…what’s up?” Again, her voice was genuine. Honest. Trustworthy.
“I uh, I think I’m ready to talk. I-if you have time. I wouldn’t want to impose. I just, a lot has happened the last several months, shit the last year. And I just…I can’t go to my mom because she just keeps trying to tell me to forget and I can’t go to friends because they don’t fucking understand and I just figured it’d be easier to talk to someone who didn’t kno-”
“Dom. Dom, honey, it’s okay. Are you free for lunch?”
He breathed through his nose and exhaled, calming himself. “Yes, I’m free for the rest of the day.”
“Lovely! How about I pick you up around noon and we stop by this bookshop café I found not too long ago. It’s a great place, kind of hole-in-the-wall.”
“Yeah that sounds nice.” He could hear her scratching a pen across paper as he gave her his address, and when she hung up he lay back, staring at the ceiling and creating shapes in the shadows.
He shut his eyes and for once was not greeted by blue.
He paced nervously behind his front door, pulling at the scarf wrapped around his neck. He glanced at the clock every few seconds, the hands seeming to tick slower and slower the closer they got to the 11.
He walked to the small kitchen, grabbing the open water bottle he left on the edge of the counter.
A sudden, rapid knock on his door caused him to jump, water splashing down his face. He coughed, wiping at his mouth with the sleeve of his jumper, and shouted out. “One moment!”
He ran into the bathroom, hitting his shin on a table. He muttered a string of curses to himself, checking his appearance in the mirror and turning out of the small room almost as fast as he entered it.
He stood in front of the door, staring at it as if it was going to open another dimension and take him to another life, another time. He reached out slowly, grasping the cold knob and turning it, swinging the door open to see Sophia standing and humming to herself as she watched a squirrel run passed.
She turned towards him when she heard the door open, grinning. “Afternoon, mister.” Her grin turned into a smirk and she turned and bounded away, heading for a red car parked just a few feet away. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, turning around, smiling and shaking his head as he locked the door, following her.
They sat down in the farthest back corner of the café, earl grey in her hands and a cup of lemon tea in his. She sipped for a moment, looking around and taking in the high walls covered by dark, cherry wood bookcases, a small record player in the corner across from them. She turned her head and saw Dominic watching her, a small frown on his lips.
She smiled warmly. “Are you okay?”
He shook his head suddenly, the frown disappearing. “Sorry, guess I went away for a bit.”
Giggling, she crossed her legs and sat her cup down on the table next to her. “So…what’d you want to talk about?”
He sighed. “Matt. It seems like I can’t talk to anyone about him anymore. And the more time passes, the more it seems I want to talk about him.”
“You act like he’s run away or something.”
“Or something.”
She raised her eyebrows, settling back in the plush leather couch. “Well. How about you start from the beginning? When did you first meet?”
He looked away from her too inquisitive eyes, staring unfocused out the window. “A long time ago. He was ten. A scrawny little bastard, too.” She laughed at that, Dominic’s eyes taking on a misty quality. “That was…oh, twenty-four or so years ago. It was in Teignmouth, at his grandmother’s home.” He leaned back and turned his head towards hers, his eyes glistening. “Are you sure you want to hear all of this?”
“More sure than I have been in a long time.’
Smiling, sipped his tea and cleared his throat. “Well…”
