Rescue Me

Joined: April 15th, 2010, 11:10 am

January 7th, 2011, 4:35 pm #1

The worst part of it all had to be that there was nothing left in her jacket pocket.

Her cigarettes were gone.

Her lighter was gone.

Her flask was gone.

Her innocence was gone.

Vaughn Pearson. He was a creep, an evil creep, a deluded creep who wanted nothing more than to fulfil his duty to America. He listened to country music, something Chanel could never understand, he liked swimming, and more than that, he liked Allison Greene.

But that was just the thing. He was deluded. Everyone here, in this fucking game of the governments was just deluded. He thought, he honestly thought that if he killed Chanel, everything would get better for him, at least that was what Chanel asked herself as the tears met the concrete. Anyone who killed here was just going to destroy themselves. What happened to the people who won? Who knew. What incentive did it give them to survive? Why did Vaughn want to kill her? What did he hope to accomplish?

Just something else Chanel would never know.

That feeling, that overwhelming presence in your life, the fact that you don't know and never will know something is what is referred to by most people as "Heavy Shit".

Like dying. Dying was heavy shit.

Chanel opened her eyes. Some fucked-up time ago, she'd found herself here, some Garage. Her body, soaking with blood, was propped up against a jeep wheel. Nice big bullet hole in the back door as well. Vaughn's body lay way a way away, still with all her stuff, her cigarettes, he had her damn cigarettes. Course, he'd been generous enough before...passed on to leave some fresh holes planted in her chest as an away present. She'd been so kind as to repay the favour. Tenfold.

The bleeding was still going, but she'd stop stressing, stopped panicking, just stopped...caring. It slowed down, it got to the point where it reached nosebleed levels of speed. But it still burned something painful. Staying to the shadows, Chanel snuck across the compound, looking for somewhere empty to stop. Nothing, everyone had woken up. People running, gunshots, people just doing what she didn't do, stayed strong, started fighting for their lives.

She envied them so much, they still had their optimism, their idealism, their ever-lasting hope that something good was gonna come of it all. "There has to be hope, right? There has to be a way, right", you know, all that lovey-dovey crap that she kicked to the curb after her first good cigarette and visit to ponderland?

Well, it was good to have something to live for, huh?



Once she got up to the big guy in the sky, she was gonna complain soooo much about the wait.

Chanel struggled to keep her eyes closed. If she was going to die, then dammit this was really taking it's time.

Ultimately, her eyes opened again, relenting under the pressure. And really, was her head not tilting back so her eyes immediatly hit the corner of the room, she might have just laid there and waited even longer.





She doesn't deserve to see this.

Her hands moved without her even realising it, grabbing the grip of the wheel nudged at the top of her back. And before she even realised that, she was leaning, rather than resting.

She didn't have much more energy for what she was about to do.

Chanel put a step forward, a really small one. She could walk, that held promise. Her head turned around slowly, scanning the place. There were noises, not just the screams of pain echoing in her head, but people all out there. If people were coming, she had no way of knowing, then...then she really hoped she was dead before she found out who it was.

She'd never be able to face Sibby or Ryan like this.

Two goals in mind now. Get away from the cameras, get away from the people who may/may not be out there. Doing the only reasonably logical thing she could think of, Chanel pulled open the door to the jeep and fell inside.

For a moment there, it was dark again.


This was Chanel's first time performing. Like, ever. She'd only ever done it in front of the mirror before, and her mom. Hell, she only had her mother's word that she was even any good at singing and guitar-playing.

Well, up until a few days ago, that was...kinda untrue.

She'd met Ryan, who was, for all intents and purposes, her new best friend. They both shared nearly everything. Smoking habits. Guitar idols. Nearly everything. Her voice was kinda different, that was the only thing. It wasn't that often Chanel would actually find someone who had the same singing voice, chances are she never would, really.

So. Here they were. Waiting just off the stage, it was almost their turn. Some girl with a pair of giant pom-poms was up first, and then it was them, the two femme fatales with the guitars and the voice. Ready to blow them all away.

Chanel soooooo fucking wanted a smoke right now. EVEN THOUGH there was gonna be heaps more time for one later, she wanted one NOW, DAMMIT! Bloody cigarette laws…

Chanel turned to her partner in crime, and spoke for the first time that night.

"So….we ready?" she asked.

"Yes. No! Yes. Fuck, does it matter? We're up next either way" Ryan blurted out.

"It matters, cause if we're not ready for this song, we can always take the back up song. Yeah, we'll look pretty stupid cause they don't sound anything like each other, but at least we won't screw up in front of everyone."

"Look. We can do this, aight? We've just gotta have faith or whatever. I dunno, I suck at this pep-talk shit. Just, you're really good. And fuck if I don't know I'M really good, so we should be set, right? That's just logic."

"Alright then. I suppose that's a yes."

"Aaaand thank you Tiffany for that lovely display. Up next, we have Chanel Martin and Ryan Montoya, who'll be singing and playing "A Wish"!"

Ryan turned back towards Chanel.

"That'd be us. Oh, and Chanel?"

Just as Chanel picked up her guitar from the wall, she whipped her head back around to her one and only.


"You fuck this up and we'll never work in this town again."


The two erupted into quiet laughter, before Ryan started speaking once more.

"So, relax. You're way tense."

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna fuck this up."

"Well then. Let's do this."

On that slightly happier note, the two of them walked onto the auditorium stage, the bright light shining down on them...


And Chanel's eyes opened once more.

No, no NO! It was at that moment she really knew what was going on with her.

On the brink of death, all she'd thought about was the best night of her life. Ryan, Ryan Montoya, the most wonderful girl in the world, her best friend, her only real friend...

Stay inside the memories, that's all she wanted.

If she could just be happy, for these last few moments, happy that it was her that Vaughn found, not Ryan. Her that was too reckless for anyone to handle, her that was hiding from the eyes of America in the back of one of their precious jeeps. It shouldn't be Ryan, it didn't deserve to be Ryan in pain...

Chanel squeezed her teary eyes shut again...


The two girls walked centre stage. Armed with a stool and guitar, they set everything up as the crowd watched. Good thing they weren't a restless crowd, otherwise they'd probably have something thrown at them for taking so long. 4 mic stands, a retuned guitar, and a short coughing fit later, they were ready.

In unison...

The melody wafted from the girl's strings, delicate, soft. It swam through the air like a fish with the current, and 4 bars later, it was joined.

I wish to feel smaller
under your sheets.
I wish for the whole truth
every time you speak.
I'm thinkin' about how
You care half as much for me
While I watch you arrive, smoke cigarettes, sleep...

And I guess it doesn't matter what I say or what I seem
You stuck what I felt for you in the pocket of your jeans

Ignoring me the morning after
isn't enough
and I swear I'm gonna cry.
I'm sick of tryin' to be tough.
And my blooooooood won't stick
To the confines of my vei-eins.
And yoooour heaaaaaaart
Is gonna tear mine away.

And I wish to feel smaller under your hands,
though you seem satisfied as you slip mine down your pants.
And I'm thinkin' about how you care half as much for me
While you lift up my shirt after asking politely.

And I guess it doesn't matter
what I am or pretend to be
Cuz it's her you'll always love
and it's her I'll always envy.

I want to end this now so dreams of you won't keep me up.
But I swear I'm gonna cry.
I'm sick of tryin' to be tough.
And my blooooooood won't stick
To the confines of my vei-eins.
And yoooour heaaaaaaart
Is gonna tear mine away.

And it's hard to find
What I want
When it's buried beneath the biggest rock.
I could pay lots of money
To help lift it with machines
But I'm not sure you'd cooperate.
Not sure you'd come clean.

And I wish to feel smaller
under your sheets.
I wish for the whole truth
every time you speak.
And I'm thinkin' about how you care half as much for me
As I watch you arrive, smoke cigarettes, sleep.

And I guess it doesn't matter what I say or what I seem
You stuck what I felt for you in the pocket of your jeans.
Ignoring me the morning after isn't enough
and I swear I'm going to cry.
I'm sick of tryin' to be tough.

Yeah, I swear I'm gonna cry.
I'm sick of tryin' to be tough.

And my blooooooood won't stick
To the confines of my vei-eins.
And yoooour heaaaaaaart
Is gonna tear mine away.

Is gonna tear mine away...



...What, did they want a ta-da?

It was over now. The two of them, sat there, almost out of breathe after the song.

For a few moments, it was like the entire audience was simply...shut off.

And then...they applauded.

They loved them, they really loved them.

Chanel Martin and Ryan MontoyaRyan Montoya and Chanel Martin, they just finished their act, her first ever act.

It was wonderful, all those people. Chanel couldn't believe it, couldn't believe how wonderful it was to actually get their words out in song. All those feelings, all that inner turmoil crap that people talked about, getting it out in the open really worked.

And with Ryan as well. She had to have done this before, she was wonderful as well. Chanel didn't even know her that well, they'd only performed together just because...well, just because.

...this was what it was really like to be happy.

Chanel smiled, and walked off stage. She was still smiling, all until the end of the night.


And for the third time that night, her eyes shot open.

It ruined it.

That was the moment she wanted to leave. No regrets, nothing, she wanted to leave happy and content. But fate was fucking with her, wouldn't let her die.

Come on, please, just give me this one thing...

The drowziness came back. If her mother was watching now, or if anyone could see the poor girl, lying in the back seat of the jeep, it would have looked like she'd just fallen asleep again. Nothing over dramatic. No cursing the heavens. No apologies.

Chanel just fell asleep one last time.

But this time, as she realised what she was remembering, there was at least a smile on her face.

Female Student 3: Chanel Martin - Deceased


"Ryan! Hey Ryan!" Chanel yelled, as she, well, quite slowly, ran up to her co-performer. Just after the show, just before she was gonna get a ride with her mom home. Chad was still waiting at home, the freak.

"I...I know we didn't win, still wanna hang out? I know where you can get some cigarettes for real cheap if you want, my mom's bee-eff sells them too me real cheap, and, well, how about it?"

It was really weird; Chanel had never felt this way about anyone before, let alone a good friend like Ryan was gonna be. Was this...a crush?

Nah, couldn't be that, could it? I mean, she was a girl! Girls couldn't have crushes on girls, that was just ridiculous.

Oh well, it'd make sense one day.
The Program 2.5 - Traitors

Santiago Ibarra - Butterfly Knife

Nani Clover - Plastic Scythe

[+] Spoiler
Battle Royale AU - A Second Chance
Yoshio - Cause of Death: 'sploded - 15/42
Yuko - Cause of Death: Lack of Faith - 32/42
The Program - v1 - Young Patriots
Chanel - ♡ - 51/53
♥ -
Matthew - ☿ - 27/53
- - -
SOTF TV - v1 - Our Main Cast
Holly - Thuck the game. - 58/66
Ω - Ω - Ω
Anna - [redacted]. - 21/66
© - © - © - © - © - © - ©
VIRTUA SOTF - The Players
Ramona - Boom. - 40/47
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Cameo - Gasp. - 7/47
Ø - Ø - Ø - Ø - [url=