It was only a matter of time.
alex_-nods-: I'm not gonna lie. That chapter was a hard to write. It was definitely a switch from all the half-naked pranking I'm used to.
xFallxOutxBoyxFanx: Sorry, but silence wil be sticking around between Pete and Soap. At least for a little shile longer. On another note, congrats on the meet & greet!
Naothemagnificent: Pete's getting what's coming to him. But for now, there will be no kissing and making up.
easykeys: I had to channel my inner Pete Wentz to write that letter. Seriously.
doyleangel: Pete and Soap are both miserable without each other, but I can't piece them together quite yet.
Tissamy: I almost wrote that she was going to post the reply, but it would have messed up the conflict that she was talking about at the end of the chapter.
rawrlittledino: Jeez Louise. It's hard to believe that I've been on ficwad since '06. If you look at the main page for this story, you'll see that the first chapter was posted in July '07. Dearie me, this is looong.
Caffrin: Aww, thanks for the review. If you like my stuff, you should go check out moocow's stories. Her writing is a BAJILLION times better than anything I've done. Seriously.
tonytay113: I'm glad you're liking this. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Hmm. Rosemont, eh? Maybe I'll see you there. In line, look for the Asian girl with the slip on Converse that look like they've been through multiple wars.
clementineDestructor: Haha. I liked the ninjas in your review. Thanks for stopping by.
Now onto the highly anticipated Gabe/Soap chapter:
42: t r o u b l e m a k e r s
“Wake up, Sophie. You’re gonna be late for work again,” Gabe said, shaking my shoulder.
“But you’ve gotta,” he said, pulling the covers off me.
“Fuck you. I’ve got a massive hangover right now,” I said, burying my head under a pillow.
“When don’t you have a massive hangover?” he asked
Please, not this again…
“Gabe, please not now,” I groaned.
“Seriously, Soap. When was the last time you woke up sober?”
“Nope. You went to Ronnie’s party on Thursday night, danced on the table, and almost fell on your ass. Then you spent the next morning under the covers, eating Cheerios.”
“Fine, it was Monday.”
“Sunday night you went out to Harlequin with Freida, came back at 3 in the morning smelling like tequila, then slept until I woke you up dinner.”
“It was last Wednesday, then.”
“Wrong again,” he said.
By this point, he was past annoyance. He was straight up angry.
“On Tuesday night, I actually have no idea where you were, but you strolled in at 1:30, woke me up with a drunken rendition of ‘Santeria’ and fell asleep on the couch.”
“Okay, so what if I don’t remember the last time I was sober. So what?”
“So what?!” Gabe yelled. “Jesus Christ, Sophie! Don’t you know how fucked up that is?”
I groaned, uninterested in his preaching.
“Like you’ve never had a drink.”
“That’s not my fucking point, Sophie. Believe me, I’ve been drunk off my ass too many times to count, but this is getting out of hand. I mean, look at you! You’ve been showing up late at the salon for the past week.”
“Ellie doesn’t care. Anyways, Hannah’s there early.”
“Fine, do whatever the fuck you want. I’m not gonna spend today playing hangover nurse. I’m going to the studio.”
With that, he slammed the door.
Not wanting to prove him right, I reluctantly got out of bed and took a shower. After getting dressed, I fed Rigby, took some aspirin, microwaved myself a veggie burger, then got to work.
“Wow, Matsumoto. Actually on time today,” I said as the petite woman walked through the door.
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry for being late this week. Just a lot of stuff going on at home,” she said with a combination of frustration and regret.
“Problems with Mr. Rockstar?”
“Yeah, you could say that…” she said, setting up at her station.
“I understand. Just don’t make a habit of strolling in whenever, alright? You’re a damn good stylist, but I can’t pay you if you’re not here.”
“Got it,” she said, nodding.
“Alright. Now get over there and help Hannah with her 4:00. Her client came in wanting layers, then switched it to the ‘Lily Allen,’ and now I think she wants a bob. I’m pretty sure Hannah wants to strangle the girl.
“Aye, aye, captain,” she said, giving me a salute.
As the walked toward the taller brunette’s station, I couldn’t believe how easily I’d let her off the hook. Before she walked in, I had a long-winded ‘I-don’t-know-what-I’m-supposed-to-do-with-you-anymore’ speech all planned out, but once she stepped through the door with that look on her face, I couldn’t find the heart to say anything.
Sophie was the type of person who always looked happy. Besides today, in the 2 months she’s been working for me, I’ve only seen her genuinely upset once. But by the looks of it the ‘stuff going on at home’ was pretty serious.
“Sophie!” I said, thankful that she had arrived.
“Thank you! Maybe you’ll be a little more competent than Anna, here,” the 17-year-old brat said.
I swear to God, if I still had scissors on my hand, I would have stabbed the little bitch in the neck.
“It’s Hannah,” I corrected.
“Well whatever. You fucked up my hair and I need someone to fix it.”
Dear Lord, if you’re out there, please strike this girl down before I do…
“Excuse me, but Hannah didn’t fuck up your hair,” Sophie defended. “If you had made up your mind about what you wanted, she would have cut it that way.”
Little Miss Attitude rolled her eyes, but remained silent in the chair.
“So. Now that you’ve had a while to think about what you want your hair to look like, would you mind enlightening me?” Sophie asked.
“I’ll have the Jenny Humphrey. You watch, Gossip Girl, right?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. Shoulder length, shaggy layers, and bangs that brush across your eyebrows.”
“Alright. I can do that.”
I have no idea how she did it, but Sophie could put up with even the rudest people. And she could do it hungover. If that wasn’t skill, I didn’t know what was.
“Hannah, while I transform--um, what’s your name?”
“While I transform Bianca into one of Manhattan’s elite, could you take over my 6:00 appointment?”
Four hours later, the both of us were done cutting hair. We swept up, washed everything, and unplugged the straighteners, curlers, and blow dryers at our respective stations.
“Hey, TAI’s in town and Bill told me that they’re stopping by Angels & Kings after their show. Wanna go?” I asked as we locked up.
“I don’t know. Gabe’s been getting on my case for drinking lately…”
“Come on, please? Karen’s busy and Jared’s out celebrating his 3 month anniversary with Brooke. And it’s not anywhere that we can hang out in a VIP booth.”
“You don’t need me for that. Jeremy and them know who you are.”
“But I already told the guys that you were going to be there.”
“Hannaaaah,” she whined.
“Come on. You don’t even have to drink. Just hang out with us for a couple of hours. I need a wing woman.”
“Since when? I thought you and Sisky had something going on.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on. You two are always flirting.”
“Well, he still hasn’t made a move…”
She rolled her eyes and chuckled. I guess it was deserved, though. I was acting like a desperate high schooler.
“Fine. I’ll go. But I need to go home and change.”
“Nonsense. I have clothes you can wear at my apartment.”
“Alright. I’ll follow you in my car.”
The bubble of perfection that surrounded Gabe and Soap has popped.
I know, I know. You're probably punching your computer screens, falling to your knees, and screaming "WHYYY?!?!?!
Well, it probably isn't that bad, but I expect that some of you are upset about this turn of events. But like I've said before, this ain't titled 'DisasteRomance' for nothing.
Rate/Review and it just might trigger a sudden burst of creativity, resulting in another update.
WARNING. The following is yet another bit of shameless self-promotion.
If you're looking for something else to read, check out my other fics, "Press Play" (feat. P $tump) and "Lasting Impressions" (feat Alex Gaskarth). Both are in dire need of feedback.
On another note, moocow's EPIC return to ficwad is underway. Read her stuff and show some love.