bam**bam

It's Still Raining. Part 1. A Bam Brown story.

Prologue:

There wasn’t much you could say or do to make the pain go away. Bam was gone and based on his last words to you, he was never coming back. You stood quietly at the edge of the water, facing the laughing waves that seemed to openly mock your pain.

When your mind refused to settle down and continued to swing back to the last few tense minutes spent with Bam, you finally shook your head sharply and let yourself get mad. The anger was a welcome relief from the hurt and confusion and it felt good. The anger rose up strongly in you and to your surprise, it felt so right. You stomped your booted foot hard on the muddy ground and began trudging resolutely back toward Browntown.

“This can’t be the end.”

You muttered under your breath as your right hand absently rubbed against the hard cast plastered around your left wrist.

“I won’t let this be the end.”

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You hadn’t been able to pinpoint one specific thing that attracted you to Bam Brown. There so many things about him that made you want to get to know him. The first thing you had noticed about him was his confident walk. He was moving slowly down the empty street, one hand stuffed into his front jeans pocket and the other was swung back over his shoulder, holding a black cloth jacket by one finger.

He walked purposefully with a light frown on his forehead. But even that frown didn’t take away from the next thing you noticed which was how handsome he was. The morning sunlight glittered brightly off of the lens of his dark sunglasses. As he came closer, you shifted your eyes away suddenly, realizing he might be looking at you and with those black lenses you would never know.

But he wasn’t looking at you. And over the next few days as you saw him around town, he never looked at you even once. You begin to sit in your same spot at the outside table of the coffee shop and wait for him to walk by every day. Your eyes became so trained to the sound of his footfalls and his slim silhouette that you were able to spot him from a little further away each time. The first day you saw his smile, you knew you were in love with him. It was stupid, you knew. He wasn’t even smiling at you. This was a man you had never met or spoken to, but for some reason, you couldn’t get him out of your mind.

A couple of weeks passed and you learned everything you could about him and your head was filled with stories and information you had gleaned from friends and neighbors. He was thirty-one years old, unmarried, was into women and loved poetry, played the violin and had a bit of a sharp tongue when he was ticked off.

Sitting once again at your usual table on the shady side of the street, you checked your watch again. You were right on time and Bam should be passing by within the next 30 to 45 minutes. Glancing up and training your eyes on the end of the street, your eyes widened. Bam was early. He always walked by between 8:30 and 9:00am, but here it was only 8:00am and yet there he was, stomping angrily down the street toward the small store he always stopped at. You hadn’t yet found out what he bought at that store every day. Part of you assumed he smoked and he was buying cigarettes. You tried to lean in and sniff him every time he walked by but you never smelled anything but a light cologne scent on him.

You quickly clicked off your phone so he wouldn’t see your “Bam list” as you called it. It was the notepad on your phone where you kept all your notes about Bam that you had so carefully cultivated over the past few weeks. The word “stalker” always seemed to jump to the front of your mind when you looked at that list. But you pushed that thought away and reminded yourself of your promise that if you ever spoke to Bam and he let you know he wasn’t interested, then you would walk away and leave him alone and delete every single item on your “Bam list.” You wanted to be a part of his life. But only if he wanted that, too. 

Normally, when Bam would walk by, you would lift your head and offer him a slight smile. And every time he would stare straight ahead without looking to the right or the left and certainly not looking at you. This day however, you had a plan. Too many days had gone by with him walking right past you and you were tired of waiting for him to notice you. So just as Bam stepped past you, his black leather boots clunking heavily on the pavement, you slid both your legs out and toward him. The move was obvious and Bam watched as you quickly crossed your feet at the ankles and waited for him to “trip” over your extended legs.

“Seriously?” Bam stopped in his tracks and looked down at your feet then up at you. “You were going to trip me?” His deep voice washed over you like a lion’s purr.

“Ummm. Yes?” You couldn’t seem to come up with a suitable lie so you settled on the truth.

“Why?” He asked with narrowed eyes.

You pulled your feet back toward you and keeping your eyes on his, you pushed your coffee cup further away on the table and stood up to face him. You swallowed down the hard lump that of nervousness that suddenly threatened to close off your throat. Bam was clearly madder than you had ever seen him, but standing eye to eye with him, seeing the lift of his soft lips as he spoke, you didn’t care. He had been the first thing on your mind every morning and the last thing on your mind every night for weeks. You had been close enough to touch him almost every day. So, even if he told you to go away and leave him alone, you had to take the chance. You had to know.

Taking one step closer to Bam, you met his gaze and spoke softly. “I’ve been wanting to meet you but you’ve always seemed so focused on where you were going.”

“So you decided to trip me?” Bam repeated with a lift of his brows.

“Yes.” You answered with a lift of your own brows. “And look. It worked. We’re talking.” You smiled and shrugged your shoulders, waiting for Bam’s reply.

“You are insane.” Bam grumbled and walked away stiffly, not looking back.

Sitting back down in the hard backed wooden chair, you refused to cry. You had hoped he would laugh with you over your silly attempt to get his attention. You had hoped he would say you were funny and cute and that he would sit down and join you for a cup of coffee. But none of that happened. You couldn’t believe how quickly it was over. All your thoughts of meeting Bam and possibly getting to know him and becoming someone special to him, were all gone in an instant.

Pulling out your phone, you opened the app that held your lengthy “Bam list.” Your eye scanned all the information you had learned about him and as you looked at the list one last time, you suddenly felt incredibly stupid. So much of your time had been spent on someone who had his own life and his own dreams, none of which included you. Swiping your finger from right to left, you deleted the page without another thought.

You slid your dark sunglasses over your eyes. Now that you knew how he felt, you were determined to honor your promise to leave him alone. But if you thought shutting Bam out of your heart would be quick and painless, you were dead wrong. Eyes hidden behind your dark glasses, you blinked away the tears Bam would never see or know about. You lifted the now cold cup of coffee with a slightly shaking hand and took a sip of the liquid that tasted like dust.

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*To be continued.*

3

I’m going to chose to ignore Noah’s shit dating advice  and focus on this side of Bush Goth. Noah being sweet and staying up with Matt and only getting three hours of sleep the entire time, while Matt was in the emergency room,.

lol at Rainy’s condescending so sorry for you face. 

While I love the idea of Douglas Booth as Montparnasse as much as everyone else, may I interest you in the idea of  Omar Borkan Al Gala

the actor who got kicked out of Saudi Arabia for being to attractive

 to play the part?