30 May 2014 @ 11:22 pm
Title: Upside Down
Author: [livejournal.com profile] kaossbells & [livejournal.com profile] mcsparklez
Beta: the wonderful [livejournal.com profile] gypsyjaeger
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Belldom
Summary: Based on the mkmeme prompt: A rich music collector has almost everything he ever craved for, almost. One special object is still missing in his collection: Matthew Bellamy!
Warnings: language, violence
Feedback: Is like Matt Bellamy bathing in red glitter; fabulous.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and has never happened. We do not own any of the people mentioned and do not mean to offend.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3a] [Chapter 3b] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5a] [Chapter 5b] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7a] [Chapter 7b] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9]


Time was stretching like a rubber band and Matt could never be sure if it were seconds, hours or days passing by. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn’t bother to pay attention to anything as trivial as time anymore. What did it matter? As long as he was in here, there was nothing he could do anyway. The singer had finally come to the devastating conclusion that there was in fact no way out. Suzanne was always there, somehow knowing his every move.

So… what did anything matter anymore? He would eventually rot away and no one would ever know the whole scale of his predicament. Maybe they’d find him some day in the future when Suzanne was already long gone and the only thing that remained of him would be a worm-riddled corpse. No breathing, no pulse, no thoughts, no life. Nothing.

With a deep sigh he rolled off the bed and padded over to the tiny bathroom connected to his cell. Yes, he’d probably die in here, but that didn’t mean he’d piss himself just because he had no hope left. No hope did not mean no dignity, after all. And it was the trivial things that kept him sane in a way. Sleeping, eating, pissing, taking a shower. Thinking wasn’t one of them but the temporary shut-down of his brain after he had witnessed Jon’s shooting was over now. His thoughts did not go riot like they used to, though, it was more like they were muffled echoes of his once so vivid mind.

Yes, that seemed about right. He felt numb and couldn’t concentrate on anything for more than a few seconds. But it didn’t bother him. Maybe he had finally resigned himself to the fact that he would never see his friends again. Or daylight for that matter. He wanted to see the sun so badly but there was no use in clinging to that idea. Hope only intensified the unavoidable pain of disappointment and so he tried not to think of anything outside his prison anymore.

After he had relieved himself and washed his hands while pointedly avoiding to look into the mirror, Matt went back into the larger room. What had he been about to do? Ah yes, lie down again. Right now the lights were on and the whole room looked cold and too bright. He had no idea since when it wasn’t dark anymore, but as there was no apparent schedule to it, Matt had stopped counting the seconds.

Suddenly an overwhelming feeling of wrongness overcame him and he felt his body succumbing to its pressure. He sank down to his knees in front of his bed, closed his eyes and leant his forehead against the metal bedframe. This wasn’t new to him, no, far from it. Every once in a while the numbness would fade and make way for floods of emotions and thoughts he had no control over. And just like all the times before, he tried to endure it and let it pass until numbness took reign again. It was hard, so very, very hard because there were still sparks of hope woven into the despair he had to resist. Because he was sure that if he let himself hope again, he would eventually be suffocated by the mental rope he had tied himself.

Matt was rocking back and forth on his knees, trying to shake the images of his friends and of what used to be his life. He cradled his face in his hands and worked hard on getting his breathing back under control. His eyes were stinging already but he didn’t shed a single tear, which wasn’t a sign of self-restraint but of his body’s inability to react appropriately to the storm in his head.


He had not heard Suzanne enter the room but he didn’t care much about the woman who was now standing behind him.

“Matthew, you have to calm down again,” she said soothingly. At that his head snapped around and he eyed her furiously.

“Shut up,” he whispered shakily.

“Nah, nah, it’s okay. Here, I made you your favourite,” she continued in her calm voice and held out her hand in which she was holding a mug. “We need to start working again and if you’re all shaken up, you’re practically useless. Come on, take it.”

Matt fixed his eyes on the steaming, dark-brown liquid. It was topped with cream and he was immediately creeped out. The mug bore the logo of Smith’s Café, the place Suzanne worked at, and also their favourite place to go to when they needed a bit of privacy. It was so weird to see this tiny piece of normality, this reminder of what his life used to be, that he couldn’t quite grasp it.

“Come on now. You need to get off the floor.” By that point she started to sound a bit more impatient, but Matt couldn’t stop staring at the mug. It was amazing, even to himself, how such a small object could trigger so many memories and emotions. And how it could, at the same time, represent Suzanne’s betrayal of their trust so vividly.

Suzanne sighed and rolled her eyes at the unmoving singer before she went over to the piano, put the mug on its lid, and then walked back over to Matt. Without hesitation, she grabbed him by his arms and pulled him into a more upright position.

“Pull yourself together, Matthew,” she said sternly. “I thought you were a professional. We have got a video to record.”

For a second Matt let himself be handled by Suzanne. She was a lot stronger than her fragile looks let on and he felt paralysed anyway. Then he snapped out of it, though, and slapped her hands away, straightening himself up on his own. He kept all his “you’re so sick” and “I hope your death will be painful” thoughts to himself and instead got back to his feet. The feeling of being stared down upon by a psychopath made his skin crawl.

“What video?” he asked defensively and crossed his arms over his chest.

“A video to show people your true musical self,” she replied. The ‘duh’ was implied.

“My musical self? It’s dead,” he muttered under his breath and let his eyes wander to the piano he dreaded so much.

“Stop being complicated about this. Don’t you want people to know that you are still there?” she asked and mirrored his position. If this wasn’t the most fucked up situation he could possibly imagine, he would have laughed right then. But it was and so he couldn’t.

With a deep sigh of resignation he nodded slightly, not exactly sure if it was in answer to her question or acknowledgement of her demand.

“Go on then,” she urged him and gestured over to the piano bench.

“What do you want me to play?” he asked, suddenly getting nervous at the mere thought of sitting down behind the keyboard.

“Whatever you like. I don’t want to impose any restrictions on your creativity,” she replied, her voice sickeningly sweet again.

He swallowed hard when he finally padded over to the instrument and caught sight of the still steaming hot chocolate on top of it. At that he struck upon an idea. What if…? Yes, what if he could…? But… maybe. Maybe it would work.

This time Matt wasn’t as resistant to the hope that was starting to bubble up inside his chest again. If there was one way left, then it had to be this. Quickly a plan formed in his head as he sat down on the bench. Meanwhile, Suzanne put up a video camera near the door, the same place she used to take the pictures from, her renewed smile firmly in place.

He moved his fingers over the keys, only a hair’s breadth away from actually touching them. He had to be subtle. Oh, fuck he had to be so subtle. And subtlety wasn’t really his strong suit, anyone who knew him would testify to that. But to hell with what people knew about him. He would not let that glimmer of hope go too easily. Not if Chris, Dom or any of the others out there might get to see the video Suzanne was about to record. Not if that could possibly mean his escape.

Suzanne had stressed more than one time how she always uploaded all of her latest conquests to this Guild’s website. Such a website had to have been found out about by now. There were actual people who had seen his pictures and he put all his hopes into the hands of those people now, relying on their humanity and hoping that at least one of them had already outed the illegal activities there. If that really was the case, the police - and by extension his friends - had to know. They had to have the means to see this video, too.

Subtlety, he thought to himself, drew in a quick breath, and looked up at Suzanne again.

“Okay, we are ready to go,” she smiled at him and that alone made him want to throw up instantly.

Calm. Calm, calm, calm. Calm, Bellamy! Again he nodded and let his eyes stray back to the mug that was now exactly at his eye level. Somehow it could become the key to end his misery. He needed this to work out so badly that he couldn’t concentrate on anything else for a second.

“Action,” Suzanne announced and fell silent after that.

Matt rubbed his face with one hand in order to collect himself before he raised his head again, took a deep breath and started playing. Starlight was his song of choice, not only because he knew every note by heart, but also because it was the same for Dom. If Dom saw this, he’d know. He needed him to know and it was that fact that kept him going in that moment.

His best friend’s necklace was dangling a little loosely from his wrist, he had made sure of that before Suzanne had even put the camera on. It needed to be visible because he wanted Dom to know that it was with him. That he had a part of him that reminded him of their relationship that went so much deeper than just friendship. He willed Dom to know all of that. And just maybe Dom would also know that Suzanne had stolen the necklace. While Matt had no idea about the circumstances of the theft, it might have been possible for Dom to have realised it by now. And even if he wouldn’t make the connection to Suzanne, at least he’d know where to look first.

Suzanne was standing behind the camera, her eyes fixed on the little screen and her smile growing by the minute. It wasn’t actually that hard to make her happy, if you only played by the rules. The problem, though, was that those rules sucked big time. But now, for the sake of everything Matt was attached to (i.e. his friends and in a way also his life), he subdued himself to them. With one little exception. He used her own weapon against her. At least he hoped that he did.

When the melody changed a bit, Matt raised one hand from the keys to take the mug from the lid, the other still busy with hitting the right notes. He made a little show of how he played with one hand and took a sip from the hot chocolate with the other. Then he fingered the handle some more, just for good measure, and eventually put the mug back onto the piano. When he engaged his free hand in the song again, he hit a few stray notes, making the refrain sound slightly off. Nothing too bad, though, Suzanne didn’t even notice, Matt realised with relief. But Dom would notice. He was sure Dom would because he was perceptive like that. Especially when it came to changes in the singer.

Matt could practically feel the eyes of his drummer on his hands when he hit yet another wrong note and made another grab for the mug, taking special care when he let his index finger slide over the café’s logo before wrapping his hand around it to take another quick sip. He knew that the necklace as well as the logo had to be visible in the video. But Suzanne didn’t show any concerns, she was too occupied with swaying along to the song.

It worked. Just maybe it actually worked. If Dom or Chris got to see this video, they’d pay attention to every little detail, he was sure of that. And then they’d hopefully get the hint. It was a small chance, but at least it was a chance.

Then, all too soon, the song was over already. Matt really wanted to repeat his actions a few more times, maybe give some more hints, be a bit more obvious, just to make sure, but the problem was that Suzanne knew the song and he was afraid she would notice if he started to stall. So he fixed his eyes on the cup when he forced the final notes out of the ancient instrument and let his shoulders sag as they sounded through the room. This was it, he thought, the last chance.

“Brilliant!” Suzanne crooned after she had shut down the camera again and smiled brightly at him.

“Yeah,” he muttered, one simple word dripping with irony. But, again, she didn’t notice as she was too wrapped up in her own euphoria. Matt had subdued himself to her demands and that was all that seemed to count for her in that moment.

“There were a few wrong notes in there, but really, that doesn’t matter. Creativity is not about perfection but emotions. And you got that part completely right,” she announced happily and for a second Matt’s whole body froze. Shit. So she had noticed after all. But well, obviously she didn’t care. Yes, although he had been very concentrated on getting his message across, the new hope inside his chest had probably made him open up a bit.

All the better, he thought, closed the lid over the keyboard and emptied his mug in one go. The chocolate tasted better than anything he’d had in what felt like years. It tasted of a time before his imprisonment and, mixed with this new hope, it was the best thing ever. It didn’t matter that it had come from Suzanne. It just didn’t.

He couldn’t differentiate between what mattered and what didn’t anymore, if he was completely honest with himself. His thoughts and emotions had fallen victim to messy ups and downs, but this time, he was sure, he’d done the right thing. It felt like a tiny beacon in a massive storm. And he was surprisingly okay with it. No resistance anymore. They’d either find him or he’d die. He’d surrendered himself to both possible outcomes.

“You know what I’ll do with this?” Suzanne suddenly snapped him out of his musings.

He looked up at her in question just to see that she was waving the small camera into his general direction.

“Upload it to your pyscho guild website, I assume,” he replied drily.

“Clever boy,” she patronised him in her sweetest voice while her face took on an expression of pure satisfaction. “But I’ll also save your precious Dominic with it, after all.”

At that Matt’s whole body went completely rigid. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Killing three birds with one stone,” she grinned. “Firstly, we’re going to attract all the attention we deserve. Secondly, people will think that it was sweet Dominic who stole you from the public. And thirdly, he will be put away so he won’t be able to poison more people like he did with you. Don’t you think he’ll look gorgeous behind bars?”

“WHAT?” Matt cried out and jumped from the bench, just to hit his knee on the solid wood of the piano and curse loudly before he could focus on Ms Psycho Bitch.

She already had her hand on the door handle, her evil smile firmly in place. “I think he’ll be safer there. And now I’m going to make sure the police will find all the evidence they need. Wanna know how?”

Matt shook his head, more in bafflement to what she’d just told him than as an answer to her question.

“I’ll take this pretty little key of yours,” she produced Matt’s key chain from her pocket and waved it through the air, “go to Dominic’s house and upload our nice little piece of art from there.”

It took him a second to grasp the meaning of what she was about to do. They would suspect Dom of having kidnapped him. They would shut him away. No. No!

“NO! You can’t do that! You’re lying! Stop it! ” he cried out in desperation.

“I have always been honest with you. Why should I start lying now? And you know what I’m capable of anyway. Just look at the necklace I brought you. Your little boyfriend didn’t even notice.” She waved her hand around dismissively.

She was right. There was no reason she should start lying to him now. And she surely was far too resourceful for his liking. “I’ll do anything if you just leave him alone!” he changed his approach, his voice sounding utterly pained.

“Too late, Matthew, too late. You knew something like this would happen. And while you’ve been very cooperative today, the same cannot be said about the rest of our time together. Maybe this’ll teach you a lesson.” With those words, she opened the door and took a step out of the room.

“NO!!! YOU’RE A COMPLETE PSYCHOPATH! STOP IT!” Matt shouted, suddenly overcome by desperate anger. He’d never wanted to kill her as much as he wanted to in that moment. “DOM HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS!!!”

“Oh, he has everything to do with this,” she giggled and shut the door behind her in the same instant Matt’s legs had finally found the ability to move again. Although it was already too late at that point as the door was locked again, he couldn’t stop himself from bolting after her anyway. The sheer force of his movement made him crash into the metal door, but the pain of hitting his head on it didn’t stop him from beating his fists against the unyielding barrier between himself and the woman who was so dead set on destroying every single part of his life.

Tears immediately sprang to his eyes as he kept drumming his already bleeding fists against the door and shouted every possible insult after Suzanne. In the same moment his body started to weaken and his eyes fell on the droplets of blood he’d painted the door with, the speakers sprang to life once more.

“It’s no use, Matthew.” Suzanne’s undistorted voice filled the room just as much as it filled his head. “Good night.”

With a creak the speakers went dead again and without warning the lights were turned off, too. Suddenly Matt found himself in an all-consuming darkness again. He turned around, leaned back against the door and let himself slide to the ground slowly. There was no use, she was right. Dom would never get to see the video. They’d imprison him just as she had imprisoned him. It was over.
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