Summary: Why did Rory give up a chance to se P. J.
Harvey? Why is she going back on her tentative
friendship with Tristan? Read and find out.

Spoilers: Goes up through the season finale, so if you
havenít seen it you may want to steer clear.

A/N: I just got an idea and ran with it. This is my
first fic, so feedback is appreciated. It only takes a
moment, and would make my day. Please
please please let me know what you think about it.
This fic also kind of lays out a groundwork for
another fic I'm working on, so look out for a sequel.


POV

by Madelyn


POV - Part 1, Tristan

I donít know what possessed me to think Rory would
just go with me to that concert. Sure, we had been
getting along better. I knew she and that jerk
ex-boyfriend of hers still hadnít made up. With any
luck, I hoped to be the one to help Rory get over him
for good, and I thought that maybe a concert was the
best way to do it.. There was just something in Deanís
eyes that scared me. I donít think Rory can see it, or
she would have run for the hills. But I could see it,
and I was doing my best to keep her away from that.

It was hard to find out just what concert tickets to
get. I knew Rory wasnít quite your conventional girl.
She was special. I couldnít get just any tickets. They
had to be special, something that she would love, and
know that I had gone through some trouble to get. I
tried to casually ask around, but I wasnít getting
anywhere. Finally, I remembered how at Madelineís
party Rory had brought a friend who was getting cozy
with a casual friend of mine, Henry. I tried the
undercover bit with him, too, but I finally resorted
to asking outright. He told me heíd ask Lane, and get
back to me.

A few days later he did, and he had a wealth of
information. He specified that Blur, Cheap Trick, and
Collective Soul were some of their favorites, but P.
J. Harvey, an all time high, had a concert coming into
town in just a week. Bingo. Calling some concert
contacts, I finally got a hold of some tickets. They
were good seats, too. Third row center. I just knew
that Rory was going to flip. I envisioned her throwing
her arms around my neck, babbling madly and thanking
me shamelessly. Just for the record, I have also
envisioned myself as holding the rights to Microsoft,
along with that $50 billion.

Needless to say, that is not how it turned out. I
could have been more tactful, less arrogant. But I was
a bit excited. I couldnít believe I had something that
was sure to put Rory over the edge. She had been so
melancholy for so long, and she needed something to be
happy about. I thought joking with her would put her
at ease. We had developed a tenuous friendship, and I
still wasnít sure of how to handle it. I obviously
chose the wrong tactic. Still, even with how badly it
went, I still thought she would go with me. I
considered it a sure thing. If I had had any doubts, I
never would have told Louis, Madeline, and Paris that
I was.

But a few days later, I still hadnít been able to talk
with Rory. She kept avoiding me, and every time I
tried to talk with her, she found reasons to leave.
Call me stubborn, call me optimistic, but I still
didnít believe that she was trying to avoid me. When I
finally cornered her, I was nearly at a breaking
point. My nerves were frazzled, and my coping skills
were definitely not at their optimum. I couldnít
believe she said that she hated me. We had formed a
friendship, and I hadnít received the memo about itís
demise. Grabbing her books was childish, but I was at
my wits end. I knew that if she was giving up a
chance to see one of her favorite artists in concert,
she was going back to him. My fears were only
confirmed when I saw Dean.

He was standing by his truck on the front courtyard.
When he saw Rory, his eyes softened a bit. Then he saw
me. I saw a hate in his eyes I had never seen before.
Then I saw him turn those eyes on Rory. He started
yelling at her about something, I wasnít really
listening to the words, just the tone, and his facial
expressions. Rory was crumbling, that much I could
see. He turned to leave, and I heard Rory say the
words that chilled my heart to the core. She had said
that she loved him. Dazed, I just lay her books on the
ground , and turned to leave. I knew that I had lost.
Deep inside, I knew that we both had. Dean was bad
news, and my heart tightened at the fact that Rory
would be with him all summer, with nothing else to
occupy her time. There would be no way I could help
her now. I watched as they kissed, and I felt my soul
tearing in half right before my eyes. There was
nothing more I could do, so I just turned and left.

I wonder if Lane and Henry like P. J. Harvey.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

POV - Part 2, Rory

I remember when I was little, sometimes for my bedtime
story my mom would tell me about her past dating
experience. Other than stories about my dad, my
favorite was the story of her first love, Scott James.
She told me how it was magical, special,
indescribable, and all those other wonderful
adjectives that I wonít go into now. The romance had
been short, but it had left a lasting impression on
her. Mom also told me how no other love was like your
first love. There was a magic that you only got the
first time around. For me, that magic was Dean.

He was the first boy to really pay attention to me as
dating material. I was flattered, really. He was
sweet, and cute, and seemed perfect. He remembered our
three-month anniversary when I didnít even know about
it for goodness sakes! That night was so painful for
me. Dean looked into my eyes, and told me he loved me.
I had not clue of how to react. But I knew that I
could not say that I loved him. I didnít love him like
that. That was the plain and simple truth. The look on
his face wrenched at my heart, and I knew that things
could never be the same again.

So, even though I knew I would never feel about Dean
the way he obviously feels about me, I made up my mind
to get him back. Love was something uncharted for me,
and being my logical self, I decided to go with a sure
thing rather than take a chance with Tristan. But, in
my heart, I know it wouldnít be a chance. I knew that
Tristan was right for me.

The night Tristan kissed me, I felt something. It
coursed through my body like electricity and made me
feel light, something that Dean had never made me
feel. In that instant I knew what I wanted. And it
scared me. All my life, I had wished for someone to
love me with all their heart and to love someone with
all of mine, and with one kiss I knew that Tristan was
it. I was terrified. Dean was never that serious. He
was almost like a toy, like someone I could practice
on. All I knew was that, even if I didnít love him, he
was my first boyfriend, and in that was a magic that I
desperately wanted to recapture, a magic that was at
least familiar, even if it wasnít the best I could
have. And in order to get that magic back, I couldnít
be with Tristan. So I ran and I dashed any hopes of us
becoming more than friends. All for the sake of not
having the possibility of having my heart stomped on
by someone I knew I could love, if I gave it a chance.

After a few weeks, thing with Dean still hadnít
improved, and somehow in my sick little mind I thought
that even just being friends with Tristan was keeping
me from Dean. Unfortunately, that decision came when
Tristan asked me to go to the concert. Now, I donít
know how he came to know how I loved P. J. Harvey, but
I knew that if I went, I wouldnít be able to hold out
any longer. I had to hold out, or I ran the risk of
trying something so new and scary that it made me
dizzy just thinking about it. So I made myself say
those horrible things to him. I made myself use that
summer of drama camp I had taken when I was ten. And I
made myself watch his eyes fill with pain while I kept
mine full of hate. At that point, I was capable of
anything. I had impersonated Girl Scout in my quest
to keep things from changing. If that isnít a reason
to be committed to a mental hospital, I donít know
what is.

Imagine my dilemma when Tristan confronted me about
the concert. Up until that point I had been able to
avoid him. But I was virtually cornered. I felt a
spark when he grabbed my books, and was so close to
admitting my feelings for him. But I just reminded
myself of the pain that I could feel, and I knew I had
to get out of there. I went out of the hallway and out
to the courtyard, and then I saw him.

I couldnít believe he was there. My heart jumped into
my throat, and I knew that it was most likely my last
chance to get Dean back. I ran over to him, and I
watched his eyes fill with emotion akin to pain, and I
turned to see Tristan, with my books still in his
hands. I rushed to reassure Dean, but it was almost to
no avail. No line of reasoning was working. So I did
the only thing I knew would work. I said five small
words that lit his eyes with disbelief mingled with
joy. And I knew that while his heart was soaring,
another was breaking. Still, I had made my decision.
The distance between Dean and myself closed, and he
locked me in passionate kiss. I was surprised when the
kiss didnít give me the fireworks they used to, but it
was still a kiss from someone that loved me.

I can make myself love him, but can I kill my love for
another?

END

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