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Title: The Call
Author: Miss Kass
Characters: Ciarra Ingles/Brad Delson
Word Count: 1030
Summary: Pick a star on the dark horizon and follow the light - you’ll come back when it’s over, no need to say goodbye.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Ciarra/[livejournal.com profile] cici_chan or claim to know anything about her life or the life of Brad Delson. In fact, I didn’t know who Brad Delson was until she began to convert me to liking Linkin Park. xD

Notes: Based on Regina Spektor's "The Call", because hodamn am I in love with that song.


It started out as a feeling.

She sort of always had the feeling he was cheating on her. After all, this was Brad Delson, and he was a world-famous guitarist, but Ciarra had never wanted to believe it.

Three years ago they were perfectly happy, living in their house in Los Angeles. Brad would meet up with his band every day, leaving Ciarra to her own defences in their home. Alone.

But it was okay, because half the time she shopped and saw her friends, and when she stayed home she could read the ridiculous rumours about her boyfriend, telling him the stories when he returned. There was one recurring tale about him being seen in public with another woman, but he laughed it off and she simply smiled at him, trusting that he could never do anything like that to her.

And all that lasted for two years.

Which then grew into a hope.

Occasionally Brad would stay out for the entire night, stumbling back the next morning with his shiny red PRS in one hand and sheets of music in another, calling to her. Then he would sit her down and share the stories of how Linkin Park had just written the greatest song in their history, and how the next time he left the house he would be coming back with a gigantic diamond necklace.

Ciarra would just congratulate him and make him some coffee, wondering all the while if that diamond necklace would come with a matching diamond ring.

Which then turned into a quiet thought.

Then once Brad stayed out for an entire week, and underneath the worry that Ciarra obviously felt, there was a feeling at the back of her brain that made her sick to think about – what if those rumours weren’t faked?

Each day she called the rest of his band to find out if they’d seen him, all the while hoping they would say he was passed out on their floor. Dave noted that they’d all met up on Monday, tried to write for a while, then Brad had said he was going home because his inspiration was somewhere else that day. But, after that, he hadn’t seen him. The rest of the band had similar stories, except for Chester, who sheepishly explained to Ciarra that he had left early too, just so he could get a copy of Grand Theft Auto V before the stores sold out. And so she thanked them and hung up the phone and fought her subconscious thoughts that he was with that other woman.

Which then turned into a quiet word.

The very moment Brad returned Ciarra was in his arms.

He seemed fine, but she was frazzled and slightly paranoid, and just hugged into his chest as they stood on the doorstep. His arms were warm and comforting, and it was all so easy to forget about her suspicions and just love him even more than she did a week ago.

Then for the next week, all was good again, and they lived their daily lives like he had never disappeared.

Then, one morning, the day after Ciarra had bought a nine hundred and fifty dollar pair of skinny jeans and Brad had jokingly confiscated her credit card, she checked the rumour sites again. It was just curiosity, she told herself as she clicked through the links, just a check to see what stories have been cooked up this week.

And, of course, she found the one thing she had never wanted to believe. Brad was out with another woman, and was seen kissing her, and Ciarra’s heart broke as she saw the picture load across her screen. She then turned the computer off in disgust and paced across her room, furious tears running down her face that she refused to acknowledge

And then that word grew louder and louder.

Brad came home and Ciarra screamed. She refused to back down, or listen to what he had to say, and while she yelled tears ran down her cheeks, and a solitary tear slipped down Brad’s face as he tried to apologise.

But no, Ciarra said out, and they were over.

The two years of love and laughs and their shared life was gone, the idea of a diamond necklace and ring pair entirely forgotten.

‘Til it was a battle cry.

Their year-long breakup was like a war, with all of Brad’s friends playing Switzerland but all of Ciarra’s friends supporting her cause. Where Brad’s friends were just trying to write a new album, coaxing Brad back into living his life, Ciarra’s friends were plotting and planning ways to punish him further for what he had done.

The two at the centre of the battleground, however, did no fighting at all. Ciarra refused to see Brad, though he called her every day without fail, and Brad just attempted daily to win back her heart and convince her that he knew he was wrong.

I’ll come back when you call me.

Finally, at the end of the year that they would both have preferred to forget, Ciarra relented and listened to his story. So Brad told her everything he did that week, from the morning he woke up and left the house, to the night he came back to their Los Angeles home, including the kiss with that woman that had ended up in media around the world.

And yes, he said, he was so goddamn sorry. He explained how his heart broke the moment he lost contact with that mysterious woman’s lips, and that he knew Ciarra would find out sooner or later, but just hoped that nobody had seen his mistake.

And while she wanted to say no, she didn’t accept that apology, and it didn’t matter how goddamn sorry he was, she didn’t. She truly wanted to slap him and say that she could never trust him again, and she wanted the last of his things out of her (not their) home, she couldn’t.

No need to say goodbye.

In the end, all Brad wanted was to be with Ciarra.

And it turned out that all Ciarra wanted was to have Brad back.
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March 2011

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