Drunken words are sober thoughts...
The next week was brutal. Desolé suffered from the most severe hang over I’d ever encountered and Milo was furious with her when she told him what happened. He yelled at her for a good twenty minutes before slamming the door and leaving. But then an hour later he came back his usual calm self and explained to her that he wasn’t trying to hurt her feelings, that he was just scared and concerned. Milo was a huge father figure to Desolé. And sometimes when I felt the need to step in for him, she would blow up at me yelling about how she didn’t need anybody’s help. I realized now that I couldn’t try to play the paternal role in her life because it had already been filled. Desolé may claim she didn’t need anybody’s help, but in actuality she needed a lot of help.
We both needed help. I could feel myself starting to give way to the alcohol and to the pills, but I didn’t care. I actually wanted to push it farther and see how far I could take it. Already I was on the hunt for a new high or a new low. But I wasn’t quite sure where I could look yet. Desolé at least figured out her limits that night at the police station. She was now very strict about drinking before shows. And that was probably a good thing considering the last thing she needed was another drunken mishap.
And speaking of mishaps, all those little kisses she planted in my cheek and my neck might as well have not happened at all. Desolé was so drunk she didn’t even remember them. Either that or she was pretending she didn’t remember them. I had dreamed about how good her lips felt that night and it was then that I had made my decision. I was going to tell her how I felt, tonight not matter what happened. The guys knew my plan and supported me, despite the reservations they had about Desolé. I didn’t tell them about the kisses though, that was something I wanted to stay secret and intimate between us.
I had about ten minutes to talk Desolé before the show and she was holed up in her bus according to Milo. I just wanted to go hang out. I didn’t want to spring this on her before she went on because it might throw off her performance. I was about to knock on her tour bus’s door when Milo approached me.
“Hey man, what’s up?” I asked as casually as I could. He didn’t officially know that I was going to tell Desolé tonight, but I kind of assumed he already knew.
“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you. Desolé’s on the phone with her mother. it’s the first time they’ve talked in a year and its getting pretty ugly.” he warned me, crossing his arms over his chest. I bit my lip. I hadn’t heard much about Desolé’s mother other than that their relationship was highly volatile.
“I’ll take my chances.” I said finally. Milo shrugged and put his hands up as if to say “don’t say I didn’t warn you” and walked off. Forgetting to knock, I opened the door to the bus and stepped inside. Desolé was hunched over the tiny table in the corner with her phone to her ear.
“One second Gee.” she mouthed silently. I nodded and sat on the seat across from her. Her mother was so loud I could hear her through the phone. She had a French accent and just the way she was talking made me think she was strict.
“Desolé, I saw you in the magazine! Your face was bleeding and they said you were dating this Garry fellow!” I heard her snap. I repressed a laugh at the mispronunciation of my name.
“Mom, his name is Gerard and we’re just friends. You can’t believe what you see in the tabloids.” Desolé insisted. But her mom was having none of it. I sighed inwardly at the term “just friends”. tonight just might be my chance to change that somehow.
“Oh and what about your mug shot? Am I not supposed to believe that either? What did they even arrest you for? The papers didn‘t say.” she retorted. Desolé flinched. Some how the media had gotten a hold of her mug shot from that night and it made the front page of every tabloid you could name. When she found out she cried on my shoulder for an hour.
“I took my bra off onstage.” Desolé confessed guiltily. Her mother huffed angrily. “Mom I’m sorry okay. I’m trying as hard as I can!” Desolé said. She sounded like she was on the verge of tears and it broke my heart.
“I just don’t want to see my beautiful daughter getting hurt!” her mother snapped. Her mom then let out a small sob that grew and grew until she was crying outright. Desolé sighed, defeated.
“Ma, come on. Mom don’t cry. I’m not going to get hurt. Everything is really okay. I promise.” she lied. I knew she was lying and so did she. Everything wasn’t okay, far from it actually. It just seemed to be one blow after the other and I didn’t know how much more she could take at this point.
“Please, just be careful. Tell Milo I said hello. I have to go.” her mother said finally with a small sniff. Desolé sighed and ran her fingers through the roots of her hair the way she did when she was stressed.
“Okay. Bye mom.” she said before hanging up. She set the phone on the counter and put her head in her hands. I think that she forgot I was even there. I paused for a moment, unsure of what to do next.
“Hey, you’re not crying are you?” I asked, gently placing my hand on the top of her back. She jumped a little and looked up at me, blinking the tears our of her eyes.
“No, I’m not crying. I’m just really stressed out.” she assured me. I breathed a sigh of relief. I hated seeing her cry, it made my heart feel like somebody was squeezing it with all their strength. She didn’t deserve to cry.
“So that was your mom?” I asked after a brief moment of quiet. I wasn’t sure why I was asking. I wasn’t even that curious to tell you the truth. It was just that talking just seemed better than silence at this point.
“Yeah, she’s okay sometimes. She cares and shit, but I don’t think she knows how to show it the right way.” Desolé explained. “I feel kind of bad because I ruined her life.”
“You don’t have it in you to ruin anybody’s life.” I said before I even knew what I was saying. Desolé looked touched. She reached out and put her hand on my cheek and I could feel my face burning underneath her touch. I wanted to say that she touched people’s lives in a way that made everything seem brighter, better. I wanted to tell her that that was what she had done for me. But I held my tongue, telling myself to wait for tonight.
“You’re a good friend Gerard. Too good for somebody like me.” she said, her voice shrinking off into silence. She stared at the floor for a minute and I stared at her. I wanted so badly to be more than just a good friend. I knew I could be more. I wanted to prove myself to her. “Well, I should probably go. Gotta a show to put on.” she said, standing up.
“Yeah, okay. Hey do you think that during tonight’s party you could meet me over by our bus? I wanna talk about something.” I said, getting up and following her to the door.
“Why don’t you just tell me now? I have enough time” she asked. My heart sped up instantly. I wasn’t quite mentally prepared to tell her yet. I needed more time. I shook my head calmly.
“I just wanna wait until after the show. Its kind of complicated.” I procrastinated. Desolé shrugged and hugged me goodbye before prancing off with Milo. I left her bus and went for a walk to clear my head. Tonight was going to be a big deal, I could feel it.
I was drunk, hopelessly drunk. At first, I tried to stay away from booze tonight. I wanted to be sober when I told Desolé how I felt. But I soon realized that there was no chance of that happening because the alcohol was beckoning to me once again. Desolé and I were sitting in the back corner backstage simply because I couldn’t stand up while everybody around us danced and partied. I was trying to figure out how I was going to tell her how I felt in this state. She probably wouldn’t take me seriously, but I had to try. She was just sitting there, sipping on a soda looking pretty as always. I was seeing doubles, but I kept drinking whatever Bert put in front of me.
“Des, hey, can we talk now?” I asked, trying so hard not to slur my words and failing miserably. She giggled and I sat there, swaying from side to side. I would have to make myself extra clear about this for her to fully understand how much I cared for her.
“Yes, if your up for it.” she said, eyeing me carefully. I leaned over to through away the empty can of beer and nearly fell out of my seat. Desolé laughed lightly and helped prop me back up again. This was not going to be easy, but I was determined and full of liquid courage. Failure was not an option at this point.
“This is important, so pay-hic-attention.” I said, hiccupping. Desolé only snickered a little bit and nodded. I felt frustrated with her for not taking me as seriously as I wanted her to, but what did I expect? I took a deep breath. It was just like ripping off a band-aid; you just had to grit your teeth and do it as fast and as painlessly as you could.
“Desolé, I love you.” I said as clearly as I could manage. I watched a smile grow across her face and suddenly she pulled me into a hug.
“Aw, I love you too Gerard!” she said happily. At first I was overjoyed, but then- “You’re the best friend a girl could have.” she added, sending me crashing back into reality. Best friend, not what I was aiming for in the slightest. I was looking for boyfriend, or at least some acknowledgement!
“No, that’s not what I mean. I love you, like, I’m in love with you. I have been since the first time we met, even when you hated me!” I said exasperatedly. Desolé just stared at me, looking confused. How could I explain it any more clearly than that? What part of “I’m in love with you” didn’t she understand?
“Gerard, I can barely understand what you’re saying! You need to go sleep this off.” Desolé said, looking very concerned. She stood up and pulled me with her. I shook my head in protest. She thought this was just drunken ramblings. I had to make her understand. I was in too deep now.
“Nooo! Listen to me!” I whined loudly, grabbing her shoulders. She sighed in frustration and rolled her eyes, but paused to listen. I choked a little and her momentary pause was over.
“What are you talking about?!” she shouted, trying to shrug my hands off her shoulders. I took a step closer to her. She tried shrugging me off again, but I held on firmly.
“I’m talking about this!” I shouted, but not in an angry way.
Then I did something that surprised even myself; I tightened my grip on her shoulders and yanked her forward and kissed her, right on the mouth. I felt her body stiffen against mine in shock and I clamped my eyes shut. My actions were highly unorthodox, yes, but it was the only way to make her understand me! Maybe this one little show of affection was the only way to go. Even if it wasn’t, it was too late to turn back now.
At first, Desolé tried to pry herself away from me, but I was a little bit stronger than her and I held on tight. If this was the only kiss I’d ever receive from her, I was going to make it special. She eased up a little and so did I. I took my hands off her shoulders and rested one right under her jaw and ran the other one gently through her soft hair. I felt her hands on my chest from where she had tried to push away, but now they were just resting there. Her lips were even softer than I imagined they would be. In the beginning, she wasn’t really kissing me back, but then for a few split seconds I felt her fall into me. She pressed herself against me and parted her lips a little more before pushing her tongue into my mouth. I felt my soul soar; I had finally gotten through to her.
But all too soon she tore herself off of me, stumbling backwards a little bit. She gasped, her eyes the size of dinner plates. Her red lipstick was smeared all the way down her chin and I wondered for a moment how much had gotten on my mouth. She looked shocked, horrified even. This concerned me. Maybe that kiss wasn’t as it had seemed. We both glanced around the room, scanning to see if anybody had noticed our lip-lock. Much to our relief, nobody had even looked up.
“Desolé…” I mumbled, still in shock of what had just happened. I think we both had the same notion of “what the fuck just happened?”. I took a step toward her and she took a step backward.
Without even saying anything, she turned on her heel and booked through the throng of people over it to the door. I grabbed her wrist and she pulled it away so violently that I almost fell back. She took that moment to run off into the crowd. I tried my best to push past everybody and catch up with her, but it was terribly difficult to do when you were drunk. I called her name, but she never answered. For a few seconds I lost her in the crowd, but then I reached the door and opened it to find her outside.
There was a single lamp outside, providing an artificial yellow light. It was raining heavily outside and we were both trapped under the tiny little roof over the door. Desolé looked uncomfortable, like she wanted to run off again but the rain outside was preventing that. For a moment I just stared at her, confused and bewildered.
“What was that?” I asked quietly, bitterly. Desolé looked up at me, looking angry. Why was she angry? If anything I should be angry.
“I should be asking you the same thing!” she snapped at me. Her words cut me like a blade and I cringed.
“I tried telling you, but you wouldn’t listen.” I explained. She shook her head and tried to wipe the lipstick off her chin unsuccessfully.
“Gerard you’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re doing.” she said quietly. She sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than me.
“Yes, I do! I’ve wanted to do that for months!” I said loudly. She crossed her arms over her chest and shrank back from me. Her eyes were getting glassy and red. Her lower lip was trembling. She sniffed once, twice.
I reached out to touch her cheek and she slapped my hand away. I furrowed my eyebrows. Why was she on the verge of tears? I should be crying! I felt like I was about to. I couldn’t decide whether it was being brought on my rejection, heart ache or the alcohol. Maybe it was all three. Desolé and I stared at each other for a long while, both of us wondering what we were going to do at this point. She sighed quietly and bit her lip.
“Goodnight Gerard.” she mumbled before turning away and walking out into the cold rainy night. I wanted to chase after her, but was afraid I would slip and fall so I stayed right where I was.
“Goodnight Desolé.” I mumbled to myself, watching the girl of my dreams simply walk away.
Sorry for the lack of updates lately you guys! I've been traveling the hotel I'm at has the crappiest internet ever so I haven't been able to post. And I know this chapter is depressing, but don't worry; things have to get worse before they can get better!