Fanfiction: Thunder

This beautiful song named Thunder by Boys Like Girls is one of my absolutely favourites (if you haven't heard it, do click on the youtube link :)). The lyrics are beautiful and the melody itself is stunning, which makes the song itself rather epic as a whole. I've always wanted to make a fanvid to this song, but because vidding is too much work, I've stuck with making it into a songfic.

Parts of this may seem disjointed because I actually started this last year when the song came out and around the time when Moonlight Resonance was shown. However, tonight, in a TVB-inspired mood, I came out all fingers a-typing and wrote 2000 over words in one sitting. I didn't even proof-read it cause I'm afraid it might not be good if I re-read it, so you be the judge for me. It's a one-shot Ray/Tavia songfic, full of angst, very reminiscient to The Sound of White, which was that other Ray/Tavia songfic I wrote. If you like something fluffy, this may not be for you.

*

Songfic; Thunder
Featuring; Raymond Lam & Tavia Yeung

*

Today is a winding road
That's taking me to places
That I didn't want to go


He stirred from his sleep, sunlight slowly creeping into his dreams. And woke up to find long locks of hair tickling his bare chest, splayed across his skin like a fan.

“Good morning,” a familiar face smiled up at him. Content yet with a tinge of hope, he saw. He managed a tight smile back and pulled himself out of bed, making his way to the bathroom.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his bed-hair, studying his expression in the mirror. And did not like what he saw.

Why was he still doing this? And when had he become like this? He wished he knew too.

*

He remembered all too well how hard he had fought for this. The plan was always for him to come home, put a hand to the family business, and soon succeed his father as rightful heir, to the business, to the family, to everything. It was the plan and for many years, he didn’t know any other path existed but the plan.

It was in the States, a dusty night in a school in Michigan which made him want to carve out a plan something other than the one he had known since he was little. He was getting his degree and well on his way to becoming the business tycoon everyone expected him to be. It was summer break, and he was on a road trip with three of his closest mates and they had stopped by this little town for gas, and decided to stop in the neighbouring school which had a big banner across their entrance, inviting everyone to come in to watch their annual musical.

A brunette no younger than he was, sat at the front of a stage on a stool, one leg propped up and a guitar resting lazily atop her knee. Fingers that were probably calloused strummed chords easily and she began to sing. She sang of hopes and dreams and roads not taken and it was inspiring. Her voice was rich, soulful and strong, and it drew him in. She then brought the show flawlessly from act to act, singing, dancing and twirling; making them laugh, cry, ponder with every line she uttered in the play.

He was inspired, found. The plan was changing.

*

It was not easy. It took nights of cold tension over the dinner table, angry loud exchanges between his father and himself; watching his mother cry silently, laying in bed hearing debates between his parents. He cajoled, he begged, he convinced. And in the end, they couldn’t say no. He had thought it out, he said. If Dad and Mum allowed, he would start off by enrolling himself in an acting class at the TV broadcast centre. Give it five years, and if it was all in vain, he would come back and assume his role of obedient son and corporate businessman.

Come summer, he joined the acting class. He was so excited for the first day that he couldn’t sleep the night before. In a neatly pressed shirt and jeans, he entered the studio, only to find one other girl sitting there with Walkman earphones on, clearly in her own little world of song. Her eyes were shut, and he marvelled at the delicate beauty of her face.

And then, she started to unassumingly hum along to the music playing in her ears. To his surprise, it was the same song. The very same song he had heard a year ago in the States, the very song inspired him and had him here today.

Suddenly her eyes flew open, and a slight pink crept over her cheeks, realising that she wasn’t the only one in the room anymore. She looked at him and grinned sheepishly, and he was hooked.

*

Today in the blink of an eye
I'm holding on to something and
I do not know why I tried
I tried to read between the lines
I tried to look in your eyes

On the surface, oh, she was stellar. She could go about in her usual manner, full of life, charm and that inexplicable warm aura she possessed about her. But when it was just the both of them, something changed.

He saw the way her bangs fell over her eye, and he ached to brush it away for her, to lightly run his knuckles over the smooth flesh of her cheek. And then to watch her smile in return, up at him. He couldn’t. She wouldn’t want him to. It hurt. Like hell.

I want a simple explanation
For what I'm feeling inside

*

“Are you happy?”

Startled, he turned to look at her. His good friend, colleague and sometimes, confidante.

“I know this was what was arranged, but is it what you want?”

He shrugged. That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? This was what he had wanted all along. Fame, success, to find the joy in entertaining. Acting, singing, dancing, he loved it all. And now he really did have it all.

“You think I don’t know, but I can read you better than you think.”

He forced a smile. “Must be all those love duets we keep on singing together.”

She shook her head and smiled back, but it wasn’t one of her usual brilliant, radiant ones which everyone knew and loved.

“I can read you better than you think too, you know,” he replied. “You know you miss him.”

She didn’t move. “Don’t change the topic, wise ass.”

Damn, found out. That was what he’d been doing all these while. Changing the topic every time there was concern and questions put his way. He had ran away from it, hiding, pushing it away every single time. It’d all started out so innocently, something arranged by the company. Gentle pushes, arranged appearances and then it just spiralled out of control from there. He should have been man enough to put his foot down, but somehow he didn’t. When people asked, he merely shrugged and brushed it off, but a sliver of his heart knew that he didn’t resist because he was scared. He had worked so hard to get here, and he was scared to have it all slip away. He didn’t dare say no. He was selfish, cowardly and now he had to live with it.

Looking at him floating away in his thoughts, she smiled wanly to herself and reached over, giving his knee a friendly squeeze. “I know you’ll find your way back,” she looked over at him, and he swore he could see the hope in her eyes too.


I gotta find a way out
Maybe there's a way out

*

It was a few summers after that, they decided on go on a holiday together. Things were getting crazy at work, constant cameras clicking away and legs running after them to get a shot. The rumour mills were crazy at work and everybody seemed to love spinning lies to sell news. The life was everything the both of them had ever dreamt of, and yet, it was nothing they’d ever bargained for. They needed a break desperately, and on a spur of a moment, they booked tickets, packed their bags, grabbed their passports and left.

It was to the nearby island resort of Krabi in Thailand and it was beautiful. Swaying coconut trees in the sea breeze, sound of crashing waves, fine warm sand in between toes. The place was heavenly, and so was the company.

They spent, with each other, four days of exploring, swimming, trekking, and talking. He’d never met a girl with whom he felt so at ease by. She didn’t know it, but he was crazy for her. Head over heels in love with her. He had been in love with her from the very moment they had met, but he hadn’t known it yet at that time either. He told her about his family and how he had to succeed because it was all or nothing. She told him about how acting was everything she had ever dreamt about and how she felt like she could do so much more than the roles that were given to her, sharing about how she sometimes felt marginalized because she didn’t hold a beauty pageant sash. It too, was all or nothing to her. They talked and laughed and shared, through the late nights.

*

“It’s pouring!”

He stared at her incredulously albeit playfully. “You call this rain?”

She glared at him. “Now is not the time to be stubborn, Mr. Stubborn,” she gestured at the sky. And right on cue, it rumbled and the rain started getting heavier.

“Wow, you’re good,” he chuckled. “Ever thought of changing to be a weather woman? I think the news channel needs one.”

She quickly hit his chest hard with the back of her hand. “Ever thought of becoming a comedian? I think the trashy cable channels need one,” she shot back dryly, a hint of cheekiness in her corner of her eyes.

He grinned back at her, and before she knew it, he was on top of her, his deft fingers dancing on her ribs. She squealed in between peals of laughter. “Stop tickling me!”

Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer
Do you know you're unlike any other?

“You’re like Tickle Me Elmo,” he teased her; poking her some more only to get a reaction on of her because her laughter was like a melody to his ears.

She struggled, but he was way too strong for her. The rain battered down on his back, in her favour, because he was now sheltering her. “Crazy boy, you’re getting all wet. Stop tickling me!”

He grinned goofily at her, not relenting. “Say you’re sorry for teasing me.”

“Hey, you started it!”

“Say sorry!” he laughed.

She rolled her eyes, at the same time laughing because he was acting like such a kid. God, he was adorable. “Okay, okay, sorry.”

He finally rolled off her, and almost immediately, she felt herself getting wet from the downpour. “I’m already soaking wet!” she half-giggled, pulling herself to her feet. “Come on, let’s go!” Without waiting for an answer, she slipped her small hand through his bigger one and dragged him to his feet.

Together they ran for shelter, him tripping over his own feet once and getting a mouthful of sand, her throwing her head back and laughing in complete abandon at his clumsiness before extended her hand to him to help him up. The strong wind and heavy rain drowned out their voices, but then again, it was only the both of them that could hear it other. It had always been that way, and perhaps it always will be.


You'll always be my thunder, and I said
Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors
I don't wanna ever love another
You'll always be my thunder


They ran to an abandoned wooden shack by the beach where they kept some life guarding equipment, and to their luck, it was unlocked.

She giggled at him, her eyes sparkling and he felt his heart skip a beat. Heck, it skipped many, many beats. “You look like a drenched dog,” she chuckled as she tried to wring some of the wetness out of her shirt.

He smiled, trying to ignore the quickening pace of something pounding against his rib cage. He tried to form some words but everything failed him when she was looking up at him like that, with a small rain drop caught on a tip of her eyelashes on her left eye. He tried to speak again, but no words came out, so he did the next thing he knew to at that moment in time…

He leaned forward.

He leaned forward and captured her full, soft lips against his, tasting the sweet honey and the salty rainwater. He heard a slight intake of breath as he ran his tongue against her lower lip.

She pressed her lips back unsurely, exploring his warm ones. At that, he reached up to caress her soft cheek, rubbing his thumb against her smooth skin in slow, alluring circles as she finally opened up to him, letting him into her heart, not wanting to fight the desire for any longer.

Their tongues tangled frenzily with passion and behind them, the thunder rumbled as her hands reached up to bury themselves into his hair.

So bring on the rain
And bring on the thunder

*

“Hey,” a gentle voice sounded, a pair of hands shaking him gently. “We’re almost landing, get up.”

Rubbing his eyes, he sat up yawning. “That was quick.”

Today is a winding road
Tell me where to start and
Tell me something I don't know

“You were smiling in your sleep. Had a good dream?” she smiled knowingly.

He smiled. “Not so much of a dream, but memories appearing in my dream maybe?”

She smiled wanly, wistfully. “I know the feeling.”

He frowned. He shared so much of his troubles with her but rarely got the chance to listen to hers. He knew she was hurting too. “Anything you want to share?”

“Well…” she shrugged. “Mine’s not so easy to solve.”

“What’s so easy about mine?”

“Well for starters, you’re in love with her, and she’s in love with you. Mad, head-over-heels, crazy super-duper in love.”

He couldn’t help laughing at her enthusiasm. She had been close to the both of them and was probably the only one who knew what was going on from day one, or as she liked to put it, way before either of them knew what was going on, and their biggest cheerleader and fan.

“And aren’t the both of you too?” he gently prompted.

Her eyes clouded over quickly. “Well, it’s different. It’s not so head-over-heels, not so crazy super-duper…”

“C’mon, how can you say that? The man’s madly in l-”

She shrugged. “I guess when you’re older you find out that fairytales are actually pretty difficult and complicated.”

“That’s a dirty word. Fairytales.”

She laughed, glancing at him. “That’s a good one.”

Today I'm on my own
I can't move a muscle and
I can't pick up the phone

I don't know


“It’s not all it’s made out to be, is it? Fairytales.”

“No, but I think yours will have a happy ending.”


He smiled.

*

”You’re back!” The tall slim girl bounded over happily to him, her long curly hair swaying as she ran. She threw herself into his arms, planting a kiss in the nape of his neck. Barely five seconds, and he already felt suffocated, kinda.

“How was the trip? And the concert?” she smiled eagerly at him, waiting for all sorts of travel anecdotes he would’ve loved to share with someone else.


And now I'm itching for the tall grass
And longing for the breeze
I need to step outside


He mustered up all his strength, plastered a smile across his face and pulled his shades on to hide his emotionless eyes. Holding his hand out to her, he once again smiled unnaturally as she slipped an arm through his and they walked out to face the press that were undoubtedly waiting outside the airport to capture this perfect, golden TV couple on their lens to plaster all over the front page news tomorrow.


Just to see if I can breathe
I gotta find a way out
Maybe there’s a way out

*

He pulled the baseball cap on and picked a seat. He was early at the rehearsals, it was far from his turn on stage. A pretty common scenario, seeing as though all of them had such packed schedules that caused many a delay in rehearsals like this where it needed so many of them together. He could’ve been somewhere else, but since he was early, management had told him to sit on the sidelines to watch. It always looked good when he was in the same room as she was. Creative minds then put two and two together, or so they thought, to spin up some tall tale about how supportive he was of his girlfriend.

The girls, or fa-dans as they were called in this country were on stage, gracefully dancing with fans. Gentle moves with arched arms swaying from side to side, soft pointed toes as they jumped from side to side. His eyes scanned the stage, almost immediately picking out his best friend easily as others would too. She was easily the best dancer of the lot, commanding, confident and stunning. Silently, he hoped her love would work out. Next to her was the one girl he didn’t dare not to spend time with, simply because he wasn’t man enough to say no. She knew all the steps well, but was not nearly as captivating nor as in control.

But nothing prepared him for the moment when his eyes gravitated to her. It hit him like a punch to the stomach, knocking all air out of him. It had been awhile since he had seen her in person. Her popularity had steadily grown in the past years, making her far busier than she ever had been; limiting his face time of her to what was available on screen or in the tabloids. Even if she hadn’t been so busy, he doubted that she would have wanted to see him in person anyway.

Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer
Do you know you're unlike any other?
You'll always be my thunder, and I said

Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors
I don't wanna ever love another


She moved side to side as the music spiralled up, becoming faster. She too knew the moves with an innate fluidity. He smiled wistfully to himself as he remembered the times she used to berate dancing at anniversary shows because she thought she had two left feet. He’d taught her how to hum numbers to the beat of music once. Looking closely at her, he thought he could almost see her humming numbers just like the old times.

Maybe not, he chastised himself. She was a star in her own right. “What makes you think she needs a stupid stage fright tool anymore?” he muttered.

He watched as she spun around a few times, her hair fanning out around her. The music ended and she struck her final pose and her lips curved out into a full-fledged heart-warming smile. Again, he felt his heart skip a beat. She was staggeringly beautiful. After all these years he knew she still knew him best, above everyone else. And he knew he loved her.

You'll always be my thunder
So bring on the rain

*

She was like a drug. He needed to get to her. So, he made his way backstage, hoping to bump into her. He smiled at some of the other girls he saw, complimenting them on the dance, joking with them about their hair, but his eyes roamed the room, looking for a glimpse of her.

His friend caught his arm, her face glistening with sweat from the dance. “She’s in there,” she whispered, nodding towards the make-up room as thought reading his mind. “Alone,” she added, and with a big smile, hurried off, leaving him on his own.

His legs took own a mind of their own and brought him to her. She was resting in an arm chair, her head tilted back, her chest heaving slightly undoubtedly from the strenuous rehearsal earlier, her eyes shut with her delicate lashes fanned out on her cheeks.

“Hey,” he uttered softly, almost afraid to be too loud.

Her eyelashes flickered with familiarity. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know who it was. The deep voice sent a tingle through her.

“What are you doing here?”

“Wanted to tell you the dance was great,” he smiled, closing the distance between them with a few steps with his heart pounding away like a bass drum.

“Thanks.” And then as an afterthought, she added, “…although I’m not quite sure you got the right girl.”


Yeah I'm walking on a tightrope
I'm wrapped up in vines


Her words sliced through him like the sharpest sword. “I deserved that,” he said softly. So softly he wasn’t even sure if she’d heard him.

She stood up with a flourish, looking at him. She looked at him with those big brown honest eyes of hers like she always did. Only this time they were laced with discontent. And hurt. “Good that you know.”

“I want to talk to you.”

“I don’t,” she folded her arms across her chest, daring him to go on further.

He met her gaze. “Please?”

Biting her lips, she glared at him. “Why?”

He shook his head simply, and said again softly, “Please?”


I think we'll make it out
But you just gotta give me time


She shook her head too, feeling her steely resolve dissolve with every word he uttered. She hated that she crumbled like this, she hated that just the sight of him made her forget all the pain he’d made her feel.

She felt herself nodding, agreeing to see him tonight, and then she ran out of the room past him.

*

The doorbell sounded. He was here. The door was locked, but she’d given him a key to it years ago. She wondered if he still kept it, because she hadn’t changed the locks.

On the other side, his hand in his pocket felt the key to the physical barrier between them. She’d given him one years ago, back when they’d been seeing each other secretly. He used to sneak in to surprise her, but somehow he didn’t think she’d appreciate a gesture like that anymore.

Lifting his hand out of his pocket, he rang the doorbell again. He heard some shuffles, the door opening and then there she was. She turned around and walked back to her couch, plopping down and hugging a throw pillow to herself.

He closed the door behind him and walked towards her, just standing there, not quite knowing what to do with himself.

He’d planned out a whole speech, of what he should say, what he should do, but the seasoned actor in him got stage fright when it came face to face with this girl that he loved.

Surprisingly she spoke first. “Why did you want to talk to me tonight?”

“Well,” he looked down at his feet. “It’s the first day of acting class today. Nine years ago. Do you remember?”

She smirked, put down the throw pillow and finally stood up, squaring off to him. He wanted to talk? She’d talk. “Remember? Of course I do. All these dates of things we did together, it’s haunting me all the time,” she said, her voice laced with hurt.

“I’m s-”

She shook her head. “You know what, forget it. I’m just surprised you’re actually here wanting to talk. It’s something you should have done two years ago.”

“You have every right to hate me.”

She glared at him. “Damn right I do.”

“You don’t owe it to me to listen, but I need to tell you I’m sorry.”

“Does it really matter anymore?” her eyes flared. “The very moment you sent me that letter, and the very moment you started doing what you did, a simple sorry was never going to fix anything or bring back what we ever had.”

“…I thought it was the right thing to do and I was wrong.”

“No, don’t give me that,” she shot back, her voice quivering. “The right thing to do? That’s not fair at all and you know it!”


Strike me down with lightning
Let me feel you in my veins
I wanna let you know how much I feel your pain


“They gave me an ultimatum,” he tried again, weakly, knowing how pathetic his answer sounded.

“An ultimatum.” Shaking her head, she ran a hand through her hair angrily. “An ultimatum. In case you haven’t forgotten, I work in the same industry. I know very well what ultimatums are like. I know, more than anyone else why it’s so important to you to succeed in what you do. I also remember, how you used to look at me with hope and tell me you want to succeed based on your own merit, and not just because someone tell you that you can succeed if you do something for them,” she said, her voice getting louder and louder with each sentence. “What happened to the man I know?”

He let every angry word she said hit him, making him feel like throwing up. He knew she was right. He hated that he had made that move. “I don’t know. He doesn’t know where he’s gone either.” Again, he said, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say you’re sorry when you’re not.”

“I am,” he reached for her hand and desperately looked into her eyes for a sign. “I am,” he repeated.

She wrenched her hand away from him and shut her eyes, not bearing to look at him. “God dammit, don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Just leave. Please. Just leave, please,” she whispered, catching her breath. “I can’t do this.”

“I don’t have anywhere to go.”

“Go back to her.”

He shook his head, feeling tears behind his eyes. “I don’t love her.”

She laughed with a lack of emotion. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“It’s all a show. They told me to pretend dating her and gave us an apartment but it’s all a show, you know it,” he took both her hands, searching her eyes again, his voice edging on pure desperation. He was a man with nothing to lose. “It’s not real, I don’t love her. I’ve never and I never will… please, baby. Believe me. It’s all a show. It’s all a show,” he repeated.

She tried wrenching her hands away but this time he was too strong for her. “All a show,” she shouted back. “All a show? Nobody asked you to sleep with her!”

He stopped, the tears running freely down his face now. “It was a mistake.”

For a long time she didn’t say anything. She merely looked up at him, pain all over her beautiful features, as though she was reliving every moment of the past two years all over again.

“Do you know how badly you hurt me?” she asked, her voice small and dejected, small and delicate.

He put his arms around her and she recoiled as though she had been stung. “Go,” she ordered him. “Go.”

“Don’t ask me to go,” he whispered into her hair. “Please.”

She struggled for awhile, fighting him physically and fighting everything she had been telling herself for the past few years. Tears were welling up inside her eyes and she was fighting that too.

“I’m sorry,” he said, over and over again. “I’m so…” his voice cracked. At the sound of that, she stopped pushing against him, and he held her tighter. “I… please let me stay.”

It was no use fighting anymore. She felt herself give way, soft in his strong arms. The tears she had been holding back streamed down her face.


Today is a winding road
That's taking me to places that I didn't want to go

Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer
Do you know you're unlike any other?
You'll always be my thunder, and I said
Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors


“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, and suddenly she found herself kissing him, her mouth wet and frantic, their tears mingling with one another. The long-lost desire and the age-old familiarity of passion that only the both of them shared came flooding back and the night was perfect.


I don't wanna ever love another
You'll always be my thunder
So bring on the rain
And bring on the thunder, and I said

She rested her head on his bare skin, their bodies wrapped in burgundy sheets, and put an arm over his strong chest. His fingers stroked slow, languid circles on her naked back and they lay that way till nearly the breaking of dawn.


Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer
Do you know you're unlike any other?

*

At dawn, he crept back into the apartment, not wanting to wake her up. She was asleep on her side, curled up and peaceful.

He had nothing against her, but she wasn’t her and he didn’t want her.

The song of rain started pattering against his window and distracted him from his thoughts. He was always this way when it was raining, he loved it. He shut his eyes and he was again transported to that fateful day many summers ago, back when he and the girl he loved were young and carefree. And he smiled wistfully to himself.

You'll always be my thunder
So bring on the rain
Oh baby bring on the pain
And listen to the thunder

The rain was beautiful. He wanted nothing more in the world than to enjoy it with the person that made him first see rain in a perfect light.

*
The End.


Okay, I hope you don't hate it! Be nice with the comments, okay? :)