#emo floyd on the podium

[karajaynetoday]

and I can't stop that long forgotten feeling of her | ashton irwin

Here we go again with the emo angst! Thanks so much to everyone who has shared and sent feedback on the other parts. You can read part one here and part two here, and also part four here once you’ve finished with this bit. 

Part three is inspired by Flame Trees (originally by Australian band Cold Chisel in 1984, but I would absolutely recommend listening to the cover by Sarah Blasko which I had on repeat while working on this piece). All of the italics in this piece are lyrics from the song. 

More writing here | send feedback/thoughts/suggestions here

Trigger warning for mentions of death of a family member (non-graphic), a funeral and cremation.

Word count: 2.3k words

(This is a fem reader insert)

Kids out driving Saturday afternoon just pass me by | And I'm just savouring familiar sights

The drive to the church is quiet. Ashton insisted on driving you and your siblings, and despite your protests, he’d gotten his way. You were daydreaming out the window, pondering how everyone else in the world was just getting on with their lives when yours still felt so dark and painful. You’d spent your whole life driving and wandering these streets, and the houses and the trees and the footpaths felt like home. But then again, you’d never lived anywhere else, so where else would you feel like you belonged? 

You glanced over at Ash, who has one hand on the wheel. Does he feel at home here, you wonder? Does his heart feel settled when he drives in from the airport? Does he breathe in the air and breathe out his stress? Does he think of this place often? When he thinks of home, does he think of you? 

You catch yourself staring at Ashton, admiring how he runs one hand through his curls, and quickly returned to staring out your own window and continue your daydream. You’re rehearsing your eulogy in your head, when you feel a gentle hand brush over your own, and Ash slips his fingers between yours over the car’s centre console and gives your hand a squeeze. He’s got that soft smile on his face that you know for a fact can light up a whole room, but there’s a solemness about him today. The smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes; and you notice the dark circles on his face for the first time. Had you been so lost in yourself that you hadn’t seen how everything was bearing down on everyone around you? But then again, that was just it: everything was bearing down and you couldn’t see how it would stop deepening the gloominess you felt in your soul.  

We share some history, this town and I | And I can't stop that long forgotten feeling of her

Even though you’d rehearsed it in your head and in front of the mirror, stepping up to the podium and staring out at the faces everyone who was gathered to honour your mother’s memory made a lump rise in your throat and tears prick in your eyes. You closed your eyes, breathing deeply, and grasped the hands of your siblings who stood by your side. When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was Ashton, staring back at you with a sympathetic look. He nodded at you, mouthing words of encouragement, and with that you were able to begin.

How sad it was, that she’d been taken so soon. How incredible it was, that she’d raised three children on her own, and always made birthdays and Christmases so special. How funny it was, that she always joked about her funeral being on the warmest winter day. How proud you were, to be her daughter and carry on her memory and her name. 

How sad it was, but how glad you were. To be in this room, and in this town, with so many people that loved her and loved your family like their own. To be able to talk together and laugh together and just remember. 

Oh the flame trees will blind the weary driver | And there's nothing else could set fire to this town

Ashton drove you home again in the gentle silence you’d had on the way there. Your siblings had opted to stay at friends’ houses for the night, wanting a change of scenery and some company to make them feel a bit normal again. You couldn’t blame them; every part of your house reminded you of her. From the cushions on the couch that she’d embroidered, or her favourite mug she always used for her morning cup of coffee, or the little succulents she’d planted in pots and scattered on every windowsill that got full sun at some point during the day. She was everywhere, and it should’ve been comforting, but all you wanted to do was pack it all away and not think about it because surely you couldn’t keep feeling this sad. Not forever.

When Ashton pulled into the driveway, you hesitated before unbuckling your seatbelt.

“Can you.. Do you want to come in? For a cuppa?” You mumbled, not quite meeting Ashton’s eyes, as you leaned forward to grab your bag from the floor of the passenger seat.

“Of course, love. I’m in no rush.”

You busied yourself in the kitchen, filling the kettle and finding two mugs and mulling over your extensive tea bag selection before settling on a chamomile for yourself and a green tea for Ashton, because he’d been telling you about how his yoga instructor back in Los Angeles ensured they all drank a cup of it after each class. You could hear Ash shuffling around in the lounge room, and when you came in with the two cups of tea in your hands, you found him flipping through the stack of vinyl records your mother kept on a bookshelf. 

You settled down onto the couch, resting Ashton’s mug on the coffee table and taking a long sip of your own brew. You chuckled softly, as you noticed his eyes lighting up in excitement as he examined each new vinyl in the stack.

“Dude, have you looked at these?! Alanis Morrissette, Pink Floyd, Soundgarden?! Your mum had fuckin’ sick taste.” Ashton mused happily, reaching over to grasp his cup of tea and raise it to you in a gesture of thanks. 

“Oh, I know. And she knew it, too… keep going, you might find some more things of interest in that pile.” You said softly, a sad smile etched on your face. Eventually, Ash found his own band’s album on vinyl in the stack and he looked up at you, surprised.

“What? As if she wouldn’t add you to the collection. She was so excited when she found out you were releasing things on vinyl.” 

Ash carefully placed all the records back onto the shelf, and sat down next to you on the couch. He stretched out his arm above your shoulders, and you instinctively leaned into his warmth. 

“I know, I always thought of her when we talked about pressing vinyl for the albums, but I just… seeing it in the living room, where we used to blast Cold Chisel and INXS and Silverchair and dance around like idiots til she’d yell it us to go to bed, makes it feel like that was a million years ago, you know?” 

“That’s because it was, Ash. When you’re only 26, ten years ago does feel like a million.” You said quietly, fiddling with the cup in your hands. “You should pick out your favourite records and take them back home with you. She’d like that.”

You can feel Ashton’s gaze on you, and you turn your head to look him in the eye. He looks perplexed. 

“What? Where are you in that great, complicated, genius mind of yours?” You asked, prodding him in the side. He grabs your hand, and kisses it softly. “You said I should take them back home with me. But… I feel at home right now, with you.” Ash whispered, like he was almost afraid of his own words. You felt your heart start to beat faster, and you squeeze his hand tightly. 

“Then stay. At least… stay for tonight. Stay home with me.” You whispered back, and then suddenly Ashton’s lips are on yours and it’s much more heated than a few nights ago out on the couch in Neverland, and you can almost feel the desperate sense of hopelessness in Ashton’s embrace. You let yourself get lost in the warmth and the pleasure and the feeling because it’s the first thing you’ve felt other than sadness and despair in months before you realise that you’re basically straddling Ashton and tugging on his shirt and then suddenly you catch yourself and pull away.

“I’m sorry, I can’t - I can’t do this.” You stutter out, feeling the panic rising in your chest. Almost like he can feel it, Ashton reaches out and runs his arms up and down your sides reassuringly. 

“It’s okay, love. You’re fine. I shouldn’t have done that, I just got a bit caught up. Being here, with you, with the vinyls, after everything… I just need you to know that I lo-”

“NO.” You almost bark, pushing yourself up off the couch and stalking down the hall towards your bedroom.

“Wait, you can’t just -” Ashton began, rushing to catch up with you.

“What, Ashton?! I can’t WHAT?!” You spat, spinning on your heel to face him. “I can’t walk away after you tell me you love me? After you promise me that you won’t leave me? After you tell me I feel like home?!” You wanted to sound harsh and cold, but your voice broke on the last few words. 

You felt your knees buckle underneath you, and you slid down your bedroom door as the angry tears began to fall. Ashton sat quietly beside you, and you could tell he was hesitant to say anything for fear of upsetting you more.

“It’s not fair. You know it’s not.” You sniffled, wiping your face on your sleeve. 

“I know. I never wanted this to happen. Not to us.” Ashton spoke, his voice laced with sadness.

“Can you just… stay, just for tonight? And then in the morning we can be adults and talk about our issues and sort out our lives. I don’t want to guilt-trip you, buuuut my mother DID just die so it’d be bloody wonderful if my best friend could lend me his body heat and maybe whisper some reassuring phrases to me while I sleep.” You tried to lighten the mood, feeling your sadness and anger start to dissipate as Ashton laughed. Honestly, that laugh. What you would do to hear it every day. 

“Of course I can, sunshine. Lead the way.” Ash stood and pulled you to your feet, and you opened your bedroom door and lead him inside. You were both quiet, as you undressed for bed, and still quiet as you pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. But then again, with Ash, you didn’t always need words. You just needed each other. 

Ashton’s arm found your waist and pulled your body into his gently, as he snuggled into your shoulder. You felt your eyes start to droop, and your breathing start to even out in sync with Ashton’s, and you fell into one of the deepest sleeps you’d had in years. 

And I'm happy just to sit here a table with old friends | And see which one of us can tell the biggest lies

The next few days, you began and ended your days like that: peaceful and calm in Ashton’s arms. You’d heard him on the phone early one morning, arguing with someone about rescheduling something-or-other, and you knew that he’d have to leave you soon. But somehow, despite all of the sadness of the past few weeks, you felt better about letting him go than you had all those years ago. Something in the air had changed, and you couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but you just knew that things would be okay.

On Thursday, the funeral home called to say that your mother’s ashes were ready for collection. You managed to drive there yourself without any issues, and it seemed very strange that one of your favourite people were now reduced to small particles in a fancy silver jar-looking-thing, but you collected them nonetheless.

Your mother had grown up about an hour away from where you lived now, and after her diagnosis she talked to you about wanting her ashes scattered in a field in the mountains, so her mortal and immortal souls could join and be at peace in the place where she began her life all those years ago. So the next morning, after a short breakfast, you and your siblings drove up into the Blue Mountains, searching for the perfect place to commemorate the woman you all loved so much. Ashton and his family joined you, driving in convoy, and when you parked up alongside a grassy field where you could see a trickling creek and the sunlight peeking through the old, tall trees, they followed suit and joined you at the fence line on the side of the road. 

One by one, your siblings took turns scattering the ashes, before handing the silver urn to you for the last part. You closed your eyes, and tipped out the urn, whispering under your breath like she was there to hear you. And in that moment, you felt like she was. Because the wind seemed to still, and the sun broke through the clouds, and you were there with those who knew and loved her the most, so of course she would be there too. 

And that’s when you knew, that no matter if you stayed in the house with her cushions and her plants and her vinyl records, or if you followed your heart to the other side of the world, that she’d always be with you. Because she was in your heart, and home is where the heart is. 

There's no change, there's no pace | Everything within its place | Just makes it harder to believe that she won't be around

More writing here | send feedback/thoughts/suggestions here