#'based on a concept by a guy behind the Walking Dead. written by a rick and morty writer'

[gloriousmonsters]

the brief hope and excitement i lived in between the time i found out there was a renfield movie and actually watching the trailer was... a precious time

[knives-out20]

Before You Go - Cliff Booth x Male!OC

Fandom: Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019)

Pairing: Bobby Brightside (OC) x Cliff Booth

Warnings: Suicide, Bobby talks to god but the one that isn’t Cliff and the one he doesn’t believe is in the sky, Slight religious trauma, Abuse flashbacks, R@pe flashbacks, Bobby just not acting like himself, Sad Bobby ig people don’t like that, Parallels, Crying Cliff (a huge TW),

Notes: Based off of Before You Go by Lewis Capaldi. Slight Brokeback Mountain references. Enjoy!

“Reality sucks.”

Bobby lay on the rooftop of one of the highest buildings in Hollywood. In the dead of night, he fell by the wayside of every thought he was used to having when by himself.”I hate you” Bobby whispered, more to himself than anyone else in a long time; he knew he wasn’t just kidding himself at this point. He hummed for a moment- but what about Cliff, Aria, MJ, Sharon, Joseph, Rick, Calvin and Amelia? Bobby shrugged the thought away, his every moment with them, they were sure to replace.

Cliff. Cliff moved onto Bobby from Billie just fine, surely he has enough strength in him to do it again? Much more strength that Bobby ever had, believe it or not. Cliff didn’t deserve Bobby, he deserved so much better, everything Bobby ever thought that he knew he was. Time could heal Cliff of what Bobby was about to do quicker than it ever healed anything Bobby had to go through.

Cliff. The same Cliff who forced himself to play whatever genre of rock the Stones fit into, because he knew Bobby liked it. Sure, it was nice of him, but it made Cliff play music he didn’t like in his own car, and that didn’t make Bobby feel so good, the more he thought about it. Cliff already has enough on his plate, Bobby sighed as he only thought about it.

Cliff. Short for Cliff Booth, not Clifford, or Clifton, Bobby remembers Cliff telling him that it’s just ‘Cliff’. It was sort of humorous, because at least ‘Bobby’ was short for something. Even funnier because Bobby’s shorter than Cliff in general. By an inch or not, Cliff always teased Bobby about it.

Cliff. The exact Cliff whose every moment Bobby currently played in his head: every moment he ever had with Cliff. When they first met, their first time sleeping together, their first date, their first kiss as a couple, their first “I love you”s (Bobby drew the conclusion every “I love you” Cliff gave him was empty), the first time they called each other a nickname of adoration. Every single interaction the two ever had replayed in Bobby’s head, as he nitpicked his every movement. 

Cliff. The Cliff with shaggy blond hair, soft blue eyes, a perfect nose, muscled arms, a scarred torso, toned legs, and welcoming lips. An endearing laugh, annoying jokes, messy driving, yet rhythm in his every movement. All Bobby could think of now was the inevitable look of relief on Cliff’s face once he finds out what Bobby was about to do.

Cliff. The same one who Bobby, among others, began to distance himself from. Little by little by little, Bobby drew himself to a safe enough of a distance in order to hurt himself the least for soon leaving Cliff. Again, he was sure Cliff could easily move onto another lover. Would he and Cliff had been better enough by now if Bobby let his extra walls come down, the ones Cliff was sure he tore down? Bobby guesses he’ll never know.

Cliff. The only Cliff- or man, in general- Bobby could bet his life on actually, truly, madly, deeply fell so in love with, it was unbelievable; unimaginable, even. Cliff was better off finding a copy of that love after Bobby, Bobby was sure of that.

Bobby stood up, and looked over the ledge, down at the alleyway he murdered Billie in. He forced out a giggle; this alleyway is just the Kill Cliff’s Lovers Corner, huh? With Bobby being responsible for both killings, that sure was funny. A blank grin slid onto his lips, a forced one. Smile even in the face of death, Bobby was told he’s reminded people of that quote quite a lot. 

Bobby figured he had smiled in the face of death many times in the past. Each time he smiled at a pointless protest, riot, or rally, he was sure he was smiling in the face of death. Bobby was sure he’d die in each event. He wondered why he even bothered; he’s been to billions of them, and nothing has changed since he was a kid. What a waste of time.”I hate you” Bobby repeated, pointing his thumb at himself. He felt the cool breeze tangle itself into his dark hair, the same strands he remembers his parents tugging before they mercilessly beat him on countless events. Bobby now knows he deserved every hit he took. He looked down at the pavement, sure he had been asking for it- just like he had been asking for those two times men took advantage of him in the past.

Bobby thought about if he had anything else to do before he had to go...No, not that he knows of. He could practically feel the blood pumping through his veins, like troubled water running cold. It’d all be over soon, at least he had that one thought of comfort. Bobby gulped, taking a step away from the ledge. He realized what he did, and furrowed his eyebrows in frustration.”I hate you” Bobby mumbled once again, stepping back up. He took a long, deep breath, looking up at the sky.”I hate you too, big guy.”

Bobby figured this was the first time he had ‘talked to god’ after completely kicking the concept of its existence out of his mind. From the moment he met Cliff, he had been sure as all hell that if there was any God, Cliff was it. He remembers being laughed off whenever he called Cliff ‘God’, as if it was a recurrent joke. Bobby felt confused at this, because he never called Cliff ‘God’ as a joke- he was being dead serious, each and every time. Cliff Booth is God, a God among men, and apparently only Bobby knew that each time Cliff’s feet hit the ground as he walked, each time Cliff’s ribs vibrated when he laughed, each time Cliff said any word in the English lexicon, apparently only Bobby picked up on the fact that Cliff Booth is a deity worth worshiping. Too bad he couldn’t worship Cliff for any longer.

“You happy now?” He asked, eyes on the night sky.”You beat me up, beat me down, beat me left, right, sideways, upside, right-side-up, and even backwards, and it’s led me to here. Piece of shit, if I land up in the sky, I’m swinging at you, first” Bobby growled.”You took everything in my entire life that made me happy- or was supposed to make me happy- and twisted it into doing the exact fucking opposite, and look where we are, fella. This is so on you, right now” he carried on.”Don’t even act like you haven’t seen me in this position before- you KNOW I’ve tried before. But I’m going through with it this time, see?” Bobby laughed, the laughter dying down when Cliff popped into his head once again.

Cliff. The same Cliff that Bobby felt he was leaving behind for the better.

He sighed.”Now go! Save him!” Bobby called, referencing to Cliff.”Go! Save Cliff! Save him in the ways you couldn’t have been fucking bothered to save me, okay? Save Cliff!” He reached an arm up, hand grasping to somehow hold the moon. 

Bobby was brought back to the time he lay in a grassy field with Cliff; Cliff had an arm outstretched, eyes on the moon he was pointing at. But Bobby was looking at Cliff’s hand.

“Take him to the moon for me, okay?” His face softened out of pure love, sadness written over his lips due to the fact he had to leave the one person who managed to make him so happy, just from the sight of him.

”Goodbye, Cliff” Bobby bade him farewell, stretching out his arms like he was on a cross. He inched closer to the ledge, slowly closing his eyes when tears made his vision blurry. Bobby leaned forward, falling from the roof as he heard one last thing.

“BOBBY!”

***

Cliff awoke in a jolt, blue eyes darting around the ceiling of his bedroom in his trailer. He groaned, slowly sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Cliff remembered last night in spare blurs; his car racing down the dark streets as usual, cut to him drinking bottle after bottle. The same ones scattered around his bedroom floor. Cliff forced himself out of bed, glancing at the clock.

He had slept the day away. Shit. Bobby must be pissed as hell.

Cliff also remembered something, but not about last night; he was late from picking Rick up from that movie set.”Fuck-” he swore, grabbing his jean jacket and shrugging it on. Cliff rushed out his bedroom and out the front door, bidding Brandy a quick “goodbye.”

He hopped into his car, starting it up and racing over to the street. 

Cliff passed by people huddled around an alleyway, but had no time to let curiosity get the best of him tonight. He skid to a stop, where he looked out his passenger side window to a worried Rick.”Hi” Cliff smiled sheepishly, reaching over to unlock the front door.

Rick raised an eyebrow, cautiously getting in and shutting the door behind himself.”Hey.”

Cliff started driving again, in the same comfortable silence he was used to having with Rick. But he enjoyed comfortable silence with Bobby, more. Cliff figured he should drive straight to Bobby’s afterwards, and find some way to apologize for not being heard from for the whole day. He smiled to himself; Cliff loves Bobby so much, it doesn’t even make sense to live without him.

Rick glanced over at Cliff. Should he say something...? No, it’s best to leave Cliff alone. Maybe this is how he grieves.

Cliff pulled into Rick’s driveway, setting his car in park.

Rick shook his head, he had to say something.”You, uh...You alright, Cliff?”

Cliff furrowed his eyebrows, meeting Rick’s gaze.”Oh, right- sorry I was late, man. I slept through the entire day, it’s so weird.”

Rick glanced away in confusion.”No, that- that- that’s fine, but like...are you- are you okay? Are you handlin’ well?”

Cliff blinked slowly.”Handling what well?”

Rick’s eyebrows jumped.”Do you-? Not know, or- or remember?”

“Know or remember what? Speed this up, Rick, I gotta go visit Bobby at his place.”

“Cliff, Bobby committed suicide last night.”

Cliff opened his mouth to say something, but it was moreover in shock.”Wh-...huh-?”

“Yea, do you- do you not remember? His body was in that alleyway by that- that cheap cinema Sharon likes going to.”

The same alleyway Cliff made the mistake of rushing past, earlier.”What-?”

Rick slowly got out the car, closing the door.”Cliff, buddy, you-” 

But Cliff already raced away. He didn’t want Rick to see him start to cry.

***

Cliff stood with his friends in the cemetery, huddled around a black granite gravestone that reached to around his knees. He stood directly in front of it, a fresh mound of dirt touching the toes of his dress shoes.

‘BRIGHTSIDE’ it read, carved in a huge font, including Bobby’s birth year, a dash, then his death year, AKA the current year. Under both of these, it read ‘Smiled in the face of death’

Cliff’s lips broke into a small, sad smile. If he had a dollar for every time someone said Bobby was the personification of this quote, he’d probably be as rich as Bobby was. 

Cliff glanced to his right, where Sharon, MJ, and Joseph lined up. He inhaled sharply, hating to see Sharon cry; or any of Bobby’s and his friends cry, really. To his left, stood Rick, Aria, and their two kids, Calvin and Amelia, fast asleep in a stroller. He glanced around at the other people who had bothered to gather; Bruce Lee, Jay Sebring, James Stacy, Sharon’s husband Roman, Wayne Maunder, Bobby’s band mates and his other buddies, among others. Cliff wondered if Bobby would have liked the turnout, as he slowly knelt down to place a bouquet over the grave- a bouquet made out of the extremely specific types of flowers that Bobby liked. He had it memorized like the back of his calloused hand.

Cliff kept wondering as people slowly began to trudge away, fewer and fewer and people staying around until it was just him by himself, still standing. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see Rick.

“You- You, uh, gonna be okay, buddy?”

Cliff caught the worrisome look in Rick’s eyes. He nodded sternly.”Just...give me a moment alone with him, could you?”

Rick nodded respectively, disappearing in a flash.

Cliff fixed his tie, looking down at the grave through his usual sunglasses, the ones Bobby loved so much. He sighed silently.”You left early.” Cliff cracked a forced smile, one that didn’t last long.”Was there something I could’ve said to make you feel any better, to- to steer you away from...this?” He weakly gestured down at the ground, where Bobby lay, just six feet under. Cliff gulped thickly.”If only I’d have known you had your own storm to weather, beyond everything you’ve ever told me.”

Cliff thought back to each and every time Bobby opened up to him, and replayed his own every reaction, every movement. Maybe something he did made it seem like he didn’t care? He grunted softly; Cliff cares more than anything, especially when it comes to Bobby.

“Was- Was there something I could’ve said to...make you stop hurting, the way you did?” Cliff asked, as if expecting Bobby’s ghost to appear and answer him. He wiped the first tear he felt, unaware of the many that were to follow.”Bobby, it kills me how your mind could make you feel so fucking worthless. You’re worth so much to me. More than any amount of money, any car, any movie, any amount of fame. You’re practically priceless, baby, you didn’t- you didn’t deserve me, you deserved someone more in- in-tune to your liking, and your ways. I’m just some creepy stunt double who’s aging out of Hollywood...” Cliff looked straight down, breath shaky.

Obvious silence from Bobby’s end.

“Would we have been better off by now, if I had let my own walls come down?” Cliff asked, pushing his sunglasses up. He obviously had walls of his own, ones he spent his entire life building. Ones he was sure Bobby pushed aside like a glass door, but, he guesses not.”I guess we’ll never know, huh?”

Literal crickets. 

Cliff, for once, hated this silence he had with Bobby. He got down on one knee, softly placing a hand over the pile of dirt he watched get shoveled over Bobby’s casket. Cliff’s fingers padded the brown earth.”I’ll miss you, buddy, there’s no denying that. I guess the Big Man himself has it out for me, if he even exists. You seriously had no right to keep comparing me to ‘im, baby, c’mon” he chuckled softly, a genuine smile crawling over his feature. Cliff loves Bobby, and he was gifted with the knowledge that that love was far from ever dying down.”You kept on treating me like how I never thought I deserved to be treated like, it was- it was strange, but I love you for it. Getting used to it was fun. Getting used to you was amazing. Getting used to the lack of you...will obviously be the exact opposite. Especially for Brandy, she always loved you like you were another me.”

Cliff looked down at his suit- this wasn’t the situation he wanted to be wearing a suit around Bobby, in. Quite the opposite, down to the setting and the mood. And the empty ring finger.

Cliff took off his sunglasses, folding the temples.”Here, sweetheart...” He whispered, placing it on the grave, so that its lenses were facing him, but its back leaned against the black granite headstone.”Y-You always look better in them than I- I ever did” Cliff stuttered, rushing to stand back up. He wiped his teary eyes, keeping the dirt on his knee. Cliff sniffled, racking his brain for a witty one-liner, or some final line at the end of the script of the movie Bobby and him had lived through.”You always knew how to render me speechless, huh, baby?” He rhetorically asked Bobby.

Bobby. The exact Bobby that Cliff had to somehow move on from, if he could even move on, at all. He was certain he’d be stuck on Bobby for a long time, like a puzzle he put so much time, effort, love, care, and emotion into. A puzzle that was way too grand for Cliff to even begin to be worthy of. Bobby’s everything Cliff could ever love in anyone, and now he’s gone, just like that. And now Cliff’s expected to move on, somehow? Impossible, no doubt about it.

Bobby. The same Bobby who breathed The Rolling Stones in like their music was air, or like Mick Jagger’s voice was a good blunt. Cliff remembers how time after time again, he’d play the Stones in his car. He knew how much Bobby loved them, after all. Cliff reminisced on how Jagger slowly started to grow on him over time, he started to actually like the Stones. He would play The Rolling Stones during car rides Bobby wasn’t even a part of, or car rides Cliff would take by himself. They weren’t that bad, really. And now Cliff can’t listen to them without falling into immense pain, because it’ll just remind him of Bobby.

Bobby. Short for Robert Duncan Brightside. Cliff would often catch himself thinking that, if him and Bobby were to ever illegally get married, Bobby’s initials wouldn’t change. Same goes for if Cliff were to somehow take Bobby’s last name. He was sad to know that this would only remain a fantasy, now.

Bobby. The same Bobby who was currently marching around Cliff’s head like at a protest, his every word playing on repeat in Cliff’s mind like a broken record. Cliff thought of every first Bobby and him ever had, along with their every last. Their last meeting, their last time sleeping together, their last date, their last kiss, their last “I love you”s (every single time Cliff told this set of words to Bobby, he meant it with ever ounce of his being), the last time they called each other a loving nickname. He remembered every moment he had with Bobby, and mentally beat himself up over every single thing he did in those times that could’ve made it seem to Bobby that he didn’t love him, that he didn’t care. Because Cliff did love Bobby, he still does, he still cares, more than anything. He knew it’s his fault that Bobby couldn’t see that.

Bobby. The Bobby with the tousled brown hair, deep brown eyes, a button nose, lean arms, narrow torso, fast-paced legs, and sweet lips. A playful laugh, dad-like jokes, stone-cold denial of ever sitting behind the wheel, and a pep in his every action. All Cliff found himself thinking of now was how much he was going to miss every little thing that made Bobby, well, Bobby. And how much it’ll hurt him, how he’s never going to see any of it, ever again.

Bobby. The exact same Bobby who was loud-mouthed, and very open with how he felt on any topic ever brought up in a conversation. Cliff would always admire how open-minded Bobby was, and how unafraid he was to say how he feels, and fight for what he believed in; for what was right. It was slow work, but each protest, riot, and rally Bobby formed or attended made positive change extremely inevitable. Bobby never distanced himself from a challenge, or a good fight, if it meant going for what’s right, and what he loves. Bobby loved Cliff, but Cliff wondered what it was that made Bobby distance himself from him.

Bobby. The only Bobby- and person, actually- Cliff swore his entire life on being the only person he has ever really fell in love with. Just the way he loves Bobby is unfathomable, it’ll never be ‘loved’, it’ll never be in past-tense. It’ll always be love, and loves. Cliff is in love with Bobby. Cliff loves Bobby. He knew this, so damn well it’ll hurt like a bullet through the heart.

Cliff got shoved back into reality, finding himself on his knees over Bobby’s grave, tears hitting the fresh dirt.”I’m gonna m-miss you so fucking much, I’ll hardly st-stand it” he choked, arms shaking slightly. When Cliff only ever found himself hurting under the surface, this was one way he never saw the cork exploding at, letting his emotions loose like troubled water spraying out of a pipe.”You’ll have no- no fucking idea how b-bad it’ll get, Bobby-” he sobbed, hunched over the dirt as stray tears stained the collar of his white button-up.”I wish I- I knew how to f-fucking quit you, baby, r-really, Jesus f-fuck-” Cliff cried, hands balling into tight fists.

From afar, Rick watched from his car. He exhaled quickly, going to get out.

Aria put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.”Leave him, baby. Give- Give him a bit of time” she instructed, clenching her jaw.

Rick looked back down at Aria, finally nodding. He sniffled, slouching back down.

Cliff continued to cry, his waterworks reaching the stems of the flowers wrapped in his bouquet. He used to compare holding Bobby like someone holding a bouquet of bright, beautiful flowers. Cliff grit his teeth in poor efforts to stifle himself, slapping a hand over his watery eyes; of course it was Bobby Brightside of all people who was able to make Cliff Booth cry.

Bobby. The same Bobby that Cliff could never leave behind.

Cliff wobbled as he slowly got up, wiping his eyes, then his nose, on his sleeve. He sniffled, blinked back any loose tears. Cliff wiped his eyes again, until his vision became crystal clear. His blue eyes trailed up from his bouquet, over the rectangle of dirt, onto his sunglasses, until he re-read the words on Bobby’s headstone. Black granite, up to Cliff’s knees. Cliff quickly leaned in, patting the top of the headstone and pulling away just as fast. He can’t recall the last time he was in this much pain, no stunt ever even had him hurting like this. Cliff gulped the lump in his throat away, inhaling shakily. He slowly licked his lips, tasting a couple salty tears.“I love you, Bobby. Believe it or not, I’ll never stop. I’ll- I’ll love you like it’s my air, Bobby. An addiction that I’ll never fucking get over...” Cliff slowly stepped away from the grave, not ever wanting to leave Bobby here, but he had to say one last thing before he left.

”I love you, Bobby. See you again soon.”