Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > I'm Not One For Love Songs
I'm Not One For Love Songs (Part 11)
7 reviewsBig dramaaa. Woahhh. Reviews are awesome. :] Sorry for the wait!
1Exciting
Author’s Note: Okay, so I know that there is no excuse for my lack of updates because I’m usually pretty good with updating. Sorry! I’ve just had zero inspiration and have been very much stressed. I actually should be studying for finals as I type this. Oh well…
To make up for my lack of updated I have tried to elongate this chapter and put a little more action and drama in it.
Hope you enjoy!
Review!
Song Recommendation: Concerta- Cash Cash
I’m Not One For Love Songs
Okay, so I’ll admit that I didn’t intend for the night to end up like this. But you know, shit happens and I can’t really control what fate has in store for us. Okay, fuck that, I should’ve known better.
I bet you’re all wondering what the hell it is that I’m rambling on about.
I’ll just let you know that it ends with a passed out Gabe, and him not responding to me calling his name. And it doesn’t look like he’s breathing.
I think it’s time to try CPR. Shit…
5 Hours Prior…
Leaving the movies, we were all laughing at how absolutely corny My Life in Ruins was. I loved it to death and Joe agreed with me, but Jay and Gabe were convinced that it was craptastic. That means that it pretty much sucks so bad that it’s almost good. That’s also them pretty much mocking my taste in movies.
“Whatever, me and Joe will have an awesome chick flick movie marathon day while you two watch the news or something, bitches,” I stuck my tongue out while me and Joe did some randomly improvised handshake that I would have to try and remember for future reference, cause it was pretty awesome.
“Stop trying to be gangster,” Jay commented with an annoyed look, “We’re in the city, you’ll like get shot or something.”
“No way, I will never let anyone ever ever ever shoot my Joe!” Gabe yelled dramatically and clung onto Joe’s significantly shorter frame.
“Your Joe?” Jay asked with her eyebrow raise, and her hands on her hips in power stance.
Even Donald Trump would have been intimidated by that power stance.
“Yes MY Joe! Us Jews must always stick together!” he exclaimed proudly and they stared at each other simultaneously and said some kind of Jewish prayer or something. Don’t ask me because I know nothing about Hebrew or whatever it is that Jews speak.
“And hey, it’s not like he’s a closed case, he is not officially taken by anyone, am I right or am I right?” Gabe hinted.
“Hey! It’s not my fault! She’s the one who doesn’t want to be tied down by labels and mark out ‘emotions’ for each other. Apparently that would be conforming to what the masses want and what society expects from us. We must stay true to OUR hearts, according to Jaycee,” Joe said exasperatedly.
“Well, did you ask her to be your girlfriend?” Gabe asked him quizzically.
I loved the fact that they were having this conversation as if we weren’t even there. Very rude, but also very entertaining; story of my life.
“OF COURSE I HAVE! Every single day of my freaking life! I’ve tried everything! I asked in scrabble, I spelled it out with candy, I wrote her a song- kind of, and I even tried kidnapping her!” he yelled, flailing his arms around. I made sure to step back as a way of avoiding the flailing freak show.
“Wait a second dude,” Gabe said confused, “you ‘kind of’ wrote her a song? How the hell do you ‘kind of’ write someone a song?” I myself pondered that, not wanting to know the answer enough to actually ask though.
“Well, I kind of just found words that rhymed with her name and made like 8 lines and it was to the beat of the Sleepy’s mattresses commercial,” he said sheepishly.
Gabe slapped his head and it sounded as if he was muttering curses in Spanish. Lolz. Too bad I don’t know any Spanish, I took French in high school. Je parle francais bien… not. Joe just shrugged his shoulders as we all kept walking, I suppose it was in the general direction of my apartment, but there were a lot of places in the general direction of my apartment.
“Hey, what time is it?” Gabe glanced over at us.
“9:49 p.m., why?” I ask curiously as I checked my phone quickly.
“My friend just texted me and told me that this totally awesome band is playing at this smaller club at like 10:10ish. If we walk fast enough we can make it,” he informed me excitedly.
“Are you, uh, sure about this?” I asked hesitantly, referring to the last time he went out to party and how that night ended up; him puking in my bathroom and passing out on my floor, multiple times.
“Yeah babe, it’s chill, I got this,” he tried to squelch my worries. It didn’t work though, I was still nervous. I know how low his resistance rate is, he gives into pressure very easily, too easily. Tonight can not possibly end well.
But I gave in anyways with a simple nod, signaling that it was okay if we went, “But we’re just going for a little bit, okay?”
“Okay, deal,” he agreed with a big smile on his face, “I love going to shows where I don’t have to do anything! It’s like watching Celebrity Fitness Club while you stuff your face with junk food!”
“Who’s the band?” Jay asked curiously.
“Cash Cash, they’re a newer band out of central Jersey, around where I grew up. I’ve heard some good things about them and I’ve wanted to catch one of their shows for a while. We played Bamboozle with them last year but never really got a chance to get to know them or anything. They’re nice kids though,” he explained to us. I’d heard of them. I actually am friends with them on Myspace and know a few of their songs. Not bad at all.
When we arrived I could already pick apart the scene kids and the posers. Shows got old after a while. The kids running around at these things pissed me off, thinking they were so cool because they had 30 different colors in their hair and wore more make up than a drag queen, and that was only they’re eyeliner. The hypocrisy of it all was that they were playing club music while waiting for the band to go on.
I could rant about them for ages.
Anyways, Gabe got us right in with a nod to the bouncer and I heard a few screams of “Oh my God, it’s Gabe Saporta!” which I noticed put quite a smirk on dear Gabriel’s face. Cocky bastard, I thought to myself fondly.
As soon as we got into the dark room I could see that it looked more like one of those guido clubs in Seaside rather than somewhere that a band would play. I went to go take a seat at a table and everyone followed, except for Joe who had spotted someone that he could swear was the “dude who played Spiderman”. We sat there joking around for a few minutes before Joe returned, disappointed that it hadn’t really been “that twerpy guy” who apparently played his hero, Spiderman. Oh Lord, help me.
The show was amazing and Gabe slipped away with Joe for a little bit to go talk to the guys from Cash Cash while Jay and I hung back. After about 40 minutes of their absence I went to go to the bathing.
On the way back from the bathroom I felt a tap on my shoulder and got a very big shock.
It was Marco, one of the male nurses who had been transferred to a different hospital a few months ago.
“Oh my lord! Marco! What are you doing here?!” I screeched, jumping right into his arms. He was dark, handsome, Brazilian, and one hundred and fifty percent homosexual.
I considered him to be one of my closest friends and I hadn’t seen him in weeks due to his random need to backpack through Europe. He did the legit backpacking, with no technology or luxuries at all, therefore I have not had any communication, except for some random phone booth phone calls to make sure that he was still alive, for almost a whole month.
“Nataliaaaaaaaaa!” he screeched back mockingly.
“What are you doing here?! Why didn’t you call me?!” I asked climbing out of his arms and putting my hands on my hips with some attitude.
“I actually called your cell phone 17 times missy, I just got home about 4 hours ago,” it was then that I realized that I had left my phone home when we had all gone out. Oh, that reminded me.
“Jay!” I screamed over to the bar where they’d all been when I saw him.
As they walked over the recognition dawned on Jay’s face and she sprinted over to Marco.
“Marco!” She yelped joyfully as Joe, already acutely aware of his Marco’s gayness, gave him a friendly high five. Yeah, Joe would.
“Oh! Duh, Marco this is Gabe Saporta, Gabe this is Marco Fuentes,” I introduced politely. Marco raised his eyebrow in questioning shock, already recognizing the name. The night that Jay had found out all about my past Marco had been there also; it was during one of our traditional movie nights. Gosh how I had missed movie nights.
After Gabe reluctantly shook Marco’s hand, very coldly might I add, I brought up movie night to Marco.
“Dude! We need to have a movie night next time I’m off because tomorrow is my last day off and then I have to go back to work,” I informed him.
“Will do sweetums, it is a must. I’ve missed my girl over the past month!” he told me enthusiastically.
“Awww! I’ve missed my buddy too!” I screamed, giving him another big hug.
“Let’s go dance,” Gabe said grabbing my hand and pulling me onto the dance floor.
“Uh,” before I could even respond I was almost on the dance floor and giving Jay a very confused look concerning Gabe’s new aggressiveness. All I got from her was a knowing look, and I responded back with a perplexed look as he puller me into his arms.
We began grinding closely to Lady Gaga’s new song Love Game. It seemed like I fit perfectly into him, like two puzzle pieces being put together. Uhmm, I mean… uh… *insert innocent smile here*
His hand was wrapped possessively around my waist and the other was dug deep my hair; he had a firm hold on me and there was no chance of me being able to go anywhere. I could only wonder if that was his intention.
After two songs I started to feel more and more smothered. He just kept wrapping himself tighter and tighter around me until I felt like my senses were going to explode. I felt like I was being completely absorbed into him. We hadn’t even said one word to each other.
“You’re mine,” he whispered into me ear harshly as both of his hands wrapped themselves around me, pulling me completely against him. I could feel his body completely against mine.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked him annoyed with his possessiveness. I was nobody’s.
“I don’t know who that guy is and I honestly don’t care because if he thinks that he’s going to swoop in and take you from me then you’re fucking insane,” he said seriously into my ear. I could hear him clearly over the loud music, and I really didn’t even know how to react.
“Who the hell do you think you are?!” I screamed right in his face, making sure that he could hear me clearly.
“I’m Gabe Saporta, and I always get what I want, and you won’t be an exception to that,” he said solemnly. The angry look in his eyes was beginning to freak me out and his hold on me got to the point where it was starting to hurt.
He had obviously had some alcohol in him already, by the look in his eyes. I was honestly scared.
“Ow! You’re hurting me!” I told him as I squeezed my eyes shut in pain. I was sure that I would have fingerprint shaped bruises on my hips by tomorrow morning.
“Get over it. I was hurting before when he was touching you. Who the fuck is he???” he asked annoyed.
“He’s my friend! Chill!” I screamed at him, breaking out of his grip.
I looked around and Jay and Joe were nowhere to be found. I didn’t see Marco anywhere either. What the fuck? Where were they all?
I needed to get out of here and away from him. He could go back to his apartment or wherever he wanted to tonight, because truthfully I didn’t care very much right now.
“Are you sure you didn’t fuck him?” he asked crudely.
“No, shut the fuck up!” I screamed.
“Was he a customer just like me?! I know he must have been after me. He got the used goods. He had to pay for the goods that I broke in,” he said cruelly, referring back to my job at Sal’s and when he had taken my virginity. And that hurt. I was in a bad place then. It was a last resort. And the gloating he seemed to be doing hurt more than anything he could have done.
“Fuck you!” I screamed and tried to slap him but he grabbed my hand right before I could make contact with his face.
“No, that’s your job hun,” the bitterness he used with that term of endearment tore my heart apart.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, trying to hold in my tears. I don’t know how much longer I could hold them back.
“Because I can. I want you to hurt,” he told me with a hard face.
“But why?!” I asked desperately.
“Because,” he answered simply.
I just stood there in silence with a look of hurt covering my face. He seemed to have a front up. I couldn’t read him at all. I had no idea whether he felt remorse or whether he felt glee. I walked away and right before I left the dance floor he grabbed my hand roughly and pulled me back.
“You will not leave, you do not fucking leave me!” I smelt all the alcohol on his breath and pulled my hand out of his, feeling disgusted.
“Shut the fuck up and get over yourself!”
“I’d rather get over you, literally, you little whore,” he slurred with a grimy, evil looking smirk on his face.
“Go get fucking sober Gabe!” and with those last words screamed I ran out of the club and ran back to my apartment.
When I got back to my apartment and had changed into my pajamas I found a text from Jay explaining that she was with Joe and that she was staying at his apartment tonight so that they could screw in peace. I also saw Marco’s missed calls and a recent text telling me that he was sorry he had left the club without saying goodbye, but his boyfriend needed help unpacking from their backpacking trip.
I dropped onto the couch and turned on the TV, trying to get my mind off of everything. Next thing I knew, I was fast asleep on the couch, The Nanny playing on the TV in front of me.
I woke up at 3 in the morning to a very loud noise.
“Let me in right now! Let me in!” it was Gabe screaming. Shit. My neighbor’s would flip if he woke them up. Stupid motherfucker!
I ran to the door and looked out of the peek hole and saw Gabe standing there with a bottle of something in his hand, it looked like vodka. Because what that guy really needed was hard liquor? Fuck.
I opened the door and his eyes were so bloodshot and dilated that I was shocked that he was even still conscious and awake.
“What the fuck do you want?” my arms were crossed on my chest, in what I guess was a defensive stance.
“You,” he sad sadly.
“Gabe, why won’t you go home?” I asked tiredly.
“I don’t even know how to get back to Jersey from here!” he exclaimed defensively, as defensively as a drunk can.
“No, back to your apartment Gabe. You know? The one ten minutes away…” I tried to jog his memory.
“Because all it does is remind me of it,” he said, he sounded lost and scared, like a little boy. And I’m sorry, but I wasn’t this little boy’s mommy. I can’t always be there to kiss his booboos and make everything better. He had to grow up and fix this whole little drinking and drugging problem of his.
“What is ‘it’ Gabe?” I asked as I tried to drag him over to the couch so that he wouldn’t leave and do something stupid. I would rather not get blamed for his death or something.
“The accident,” he slurred as I lugged what felt like all his weight, over to the couch.
“The accident that had you taking all those pills last time I saw you in the hospital?” I tried the gentile approach and all I got from him was a nod.
“What happened there Gabe?” I questioned trying to keep him conscience long enough to assess what substances he had consumed this time.
“I k-ki-killed them,” he whispered as tears started to fall from his eyes.
I was shocked into silence.
I regained my voice back quickly, “Who Gabe? Who did you kill?”
I heard him gasp a little before he fell right off the couch and landed on his stomach on the ground. I jumped immediately to his side and turned him onto his back and propped him into a sitting position against the couch.
“Gabe! Gabriel! Gabe answer me!” I was slapping his face and tying to get him to come to. Shit!
That leads us to now with me checking his breathing to feel no breathing at all. That’s it, I have to do mouth to mouth or CPR or something! Shit! Thank God I’m a nurse!
“Gabe please breath, we need to fix you,” I whispered to him right before starting mouth to mouth.
He needs to be okay, he just needs to.
To make up for my lack of updated I have tried to elongate this chapter and put a little more action and drama in it.
Hope you enjoy!
Review!
Song Recommendation: Concerta- Cash Cash
I’m Not One For Love Songs
Okay, so I’ll admit that I didn’t intend for the night to end up like this. But you know, shit happens and I can’t really control what fate has in store for us. Okay, fuck that, I should’ve known better.
I bet you’re all wondering what the hell it is that I’m rambling on about.
I’ll just let you know that it ends with a passed out Gabe, and him not responding to me calling his name. And it doesn’t look like he’s breathing.
I think it’s time to try CPR. Shit…
5 Hours Prior…
Leaving the movies, we were all laughing at how absolutely corny My Life in Ruins was. I loved it to death and Joe agreed with me, but Jay and Gabe were convinced that it was craptastic. That means that it pretty much sucks so bad that it’s almost good. That’s also them pretty much mocking my taste in movies.
“Whatever, me and Joe will have an awesome chick flick movie marathon day while you two watch the news or something, bitches,” I stuck my tongue out while me and Joe did some randomly improvised handshake that I would have to try and remember for future reference, cause it was pretty awesome.
“Stop trying to be gangster,” Jay commented with an annoyed look, “We’re in the city, you’ll like get shot or something.”
“No way, I will never let anyone ever ever ever shoot my Joe!” Gabe yelled dramatically and clung onto Joe’s significantly shorter frame.
“Your Joe?” Jay asked with her eyebrow raise, and her hands on her hips in power stance.
Even Donald Trump would have been intimidated by that power stance.
“Yes MY Joe! Us Jews must always stick together!” he exclaimed proudly and they stared at each other simultaneously and said some kind of Jewish prayer or something. Don’t ask me because I know nothing about Hebrew or whatever it is that Jews speak.
“And hey, it’s not like he’s a closed case, he is not officially taken by anyone, am I right or am I right?” Gabe hinted.
“Hey! It’s not my fault! She’s the one who doesn’t want to be tied down by labels and mark out ‘emotions’ for each other. Apparently that would be conforming to what the masses want and what society expects from us. We must stay true to OUR hearts, according to Jaycee,” Joe said exasperatedly.
“Well, did you ask her to be your girlfriend?” Gabe asked him quizzically.
I loved the fact that they were having this conversation as if we weren’t even there. Very rude, but also very entertaining; story of my life.
“OF COURSE I HAVE! Every single day of my freaking life! I’ve tried everything! I asked in scrabble, I spelled it out with candy, I wrote her a song- kind of, and I even tried kidnapping her!” he yelled, flailing his arms around. I made sure to step back as a way of avoiding the flailing freak show.
“Wait a second dude,” Gabe said confused, “you ‘kind of’ wrote her a song? How the hell do you ‘kind of’ write someone a song?” I myself pondered that, not wanting to know the answer enough to actually ask though.
“Well, I kind of just found words that rhymed with her name and made like 8 lines and it was to the beat of the Sleepy’s mattresses commercial,” he said sheepishly.
Gabe slapped his head and it sounded as if he was muttering curses in Spanish. Lolz. Too bad I don’t know any Spanish, I took French in high school. Je parle francais bien… not. Joe just shrugged his shoulders as we all kept walking, I suppose it was in the general direction of my apartment, but there were a lot of places in the general direction of my apartment.
“Hey, what time is it?” Gabe glanced over at us.
“9:49 p.m., why?” I ask curiously as I checked my phone quickly.
“My friend just texted me and told me that this totally awesome band is playing at this smaller club at like 10:10ish. If we walk fast enough we can make it,” he informed me excitedly.
“Are you, uh, sure about this?” I asked hesitantly, referring to the last time he went out to party and how that night ended up; him puking in my bathroom and passing out on my floor, multiple times.
“Yeah babe, it’s chill, I got this,” he tried to squelch my worries. It didn’t work though, I was still nervous. I know how low his resistance rate is, he gives into pressure very easily, too easily. Tonight can not possibly end well.
But I gave in anyways with a simple nod, signaling that it was okay if we went, “But we’re just going for a little bit, okay?”
“Okay, deal,” he agreed with a big smile on his face, “I love going to shows where I don’t have to do anything! It’s like watching Celebrity Fitness Club while you stuff your face with junk food!”
“Who’s the band?” Jay asked curiously.
“Cash Cash, they’re a newer band out of central Jersey, around where I grew up. I’ve heard some good things about them and I’ve wanted to catch one of their shows for a while. We played Bamboozle with them last year but never really got a chance to get to know them or anything. They’re nice kids though,” he explained to us. I’d heard of them. I actually am friends with them on Myspace and know a few of their songs. Not bad at all.
When we arrived I could already pick apart the scene kids and the posers. Shows got old after a while. The kids running around at these things pissed me off, thinking they were so cool because they had 30 different colors in their hair and wore more make up than a drag queen, and that was only they’re eyeliner. The hypocrisy of it all was that they were playing club music while waiting for the band to go on.
I could rant about them for ages.
Anyways, Gabe got us right in with a nod to the bouncer and I heard a few screams of “Oh my God, it’s Gabe Saporta!” which I noticed put quite a smirk on dear Gabriel’s face. Cocky bastard, I thought to myself fondly.
As soon as we got into the dark room I could see that it looked more like one of those guido clubs in Seaside rather than somewhere that a band would play. I went to go take a seat at a table and everyone followed, except for Joe who had spotted someone that he could swear was the “dude who played Spiderman”. We sat there joking around for a few minutes before Joe returned, disappointed that it hadn’t really been “that twerpy guy” who apparently played his hero, Spiderman. Oh Lord, help me.
The show was amazing and Gabe slipped away with Joe for a little bit to go talk to the guys from Cash Cash while Jay and I hung back. After about 40 minutes of their absence I went to go to the bathing.
On the way back from the bathroom I felt a tap on my shoulder and got a very big shock.
It was Marco, one of the male nurses who had been transferred to a different hospital a few months ago.
“Oh my lord! Marco! What are you doing here?!” I screeched, jumping right into his arms. He was dark, handsome, Brazilian, and one hundred and fifty percent homosexual.
I considered him to be one of my closest friends and I hadn’t seen him in weeks due to his random need to backpack through Europe. He did the legit backpacking, with no technology or luxuries at all, therefore I have not had any communication, except for some random phone booth phone calls to make sure that he was still alive, for almost a whole month.
“Nataliaaaaaaaaa!” he screeched back mockingly.
“What are you doing here?! Why didn’t you call me?!” I asked climbing out of his arms and putting my hands on my hips with some attitude.
“I actually called your cell phone 17 times missy, I just got home about 4 hours ago,” it was then that I realized that I had left my phone home when we had all gone out. Oh, that reminded me.
“Jay!” I screamed over to the bar where they’d all been when I saw him.
As they walked over the recognition dawned on Jay’s face and she sprinted over to Marco.
“Marco!” She yelped joyfully as Joe, already acutely aware of his Marco’s gayness, gave him a friendly high five. Yeah, Joe would.
“Oh! Duh, Marco this is Gabe Saporta, Gabe this is Marco Fuentes,” I introduced politely. Marco raised his eyebrow in questioning shock, already recognizing the name. The night that Jay had found out all about my past Marco had been there also; it was during one of our traditional movie nights. Gosh how I had missed movie nights.
After Gabe reluctantly shook Marco’s hand, very coldly might I add, I brought up movie night to Marco.
“Dude! We need to have a movie night next time I’m off because tomorrow is my last day off and then I have to go back to work,” I informed him.
“Will do sweetums, it is a must. I’ve missed my girl over the past month!” he told me enthusiastically.
“Awww! I’ve missed my buddy too!” I screamed, giving him another big hug.
“Let’s go dance,” Gabe said grabbing my hand and pulling me onto the dance floor.
“Uh,” before I could even respond I was almost on the dance floor and giving Jay a very confused look concerning Gabe’s new aggressiveness. All I got from her was a knowing look, and I responded back with a perplexed look as he puller me into his arms.
We began grinding closely to Lady Gaga’s new song Love Game. It seemed like I fit perfectly into him, like two puzzle pieces being put together. Uhmm, I mean… uh… *insert innocent smile here*
His hand was wrapped possessively around my waist and the other was dug deep my hair; he had a firm hold on me and there was no chance of me being able to go anywhere. I could only wonder if that was his intention.
After two songs I started to feel more and more smothered. He just kept wrapping himself tighter and tighter around me until I felt like my senses were going to explode. I felt like I was being completely absorbed into him. We hadn’t even said one word to each other.
“You’re mine,” he whispered into me ear harshly as both of his hands wrapped themselves around me, pulling me completely against him. I could feel his body completely against mine.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked him annoyed with his possessiveness. I was nobody’s.
“I don’t know who that guy is and I honestly don’t care because if he thinks that he’s going to swoop in and take you from me then you’re fucking insane,” he said seriously into my ear. I could hear him clearly over the loud music, and I really didn’t even know how to react.
“Who the hell do you think you are?!” I screamed right in his face, making sure that he could hear me clearly.
“I’m Gabe Saporta, and I always get what I want, and you won’t be an exception to that,” he said solemnly. The angry look in his eyes was beginning to freak me out and his hold on me got to the point where it was starting to hurt.
He had obviously had some alcohol in him already, by the look in his eyes. I was honestly scared.
“Ow! You’re hurting me!” I told him as I squeezed my eyes shut in pain. I was sure that I would have fingerprint shaped bruises on my hips by tomorrow morning.
“Get over it. I was hurting before when he was touching you. Who the fuck is he???” he asked annoyed.
“He’s my friend! Chill!” I screamed at him, breaking out of his grip.
I looked around and Jay and Joe were nowhere to be found. I didn’t see Marco anywhere either. What the fuck? Where were they all?
I needed to get out of here and away from him. He could go back to his apartment or wherever he wanted to tonight, because truthfully I didn’t care very much right now.
“Are you sure you didn’t fuck him?” he asked crudely.
“No, shut the fuck up!” I screamed.
“Was he a customer just like me?! I know he must have been after me. He got the used goods. He had to pay for the goods that I broke in,” he said cruelly, referring back to my job at Sal’s and when he had taken my virginity. And that hurt. I was in a bad place then. It was a last resort. And the gloating he seemed to be doing hurt more than anything he could have done.
“Fuck you!” I screamed and tried to slap him but he grabbed my hand right before I could make contact with his face.
“No, that’s your job hun,” the bitterness he used with that term of endearment tore my heart apart.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, trying to hold in my tears. I don’t know how much longer I could hold them back.
“Because I can. I want you to hurt,” he told me with a hard face.
“But why?!” I asked desperately.
“Because,” he answered simply.
I just stood there in silence with a look of hurt covering my face. He seemed to have a front up. I couldn’t read him at all. I had no idea whether he felt remorse or whether he felt glee. I walked away and right before I left the dance floor he grabbed my hand roughly and pulled me back.
“You will not leave, you do not fucking leave me!” I smelt all the alcohol on his breath and pulled my hand out of his, feeling disgusted.
“Shut the fuck up and get over yourself!”
“I’d rather get over you, literally, you little whore,” he slurred with a grimy, evil looking smirk on his face.
“Go get fucking sober Gabe!” and with those last words screamed I ran out of the club and ran back to my apartment.
When I got back to my apartment and had changed into my pajamas I found a text from Jay explaining that she was with Joe and that she was staying at his apartment tonight so that they could screw in peace. I also saw Marco’s missed calls and a recent text telling me that he was sorry he had left the club without saying goodbye, but his boyfriend needed help unpacking from their backpacking trip.
I dropped onto the couch and turned on the TV, trying to get my mind off of everything. Next thing I knew, I was fast asleep on the couch, The Nanny playing on the TV in front of me.
I woke up at 3 in the morning to a very loud noise.
“Let me in right now! Let me in!” it was Gabe screaming. Shit. My neighbor’s would flip if he woke them up. Stupid motherfucker!
I ran to the door and looked out of the peek hole and saw Gabe standing there with a bottle of something in his hand, it looked like vodka. Because what that guy really needed was hard liquor? Fuck.
I opened the door and his eyes were so bloodshot and dilated that I was shocked that he was even still conscious and awake.
“What the fuck do you want?” my arms were crossed on my chest, in what I guess was a defensive stance.
“You,” he sad sadly.
“Gabe, why won’t you go home?” I asked tiredly.
“I don’t even know how to get back to Jersey from here!” he exclaimed defensively, as defensively as a drunk can.
“No, back to your apartment Gabe. You know? The one ten minutes away…” I tried to jog his memory.
“Because all it does is remind me of it,” he said, he sounded lost and scared, like a little boy. And I’m sorry, but I wasn’t this little boy’s mommy. I can’t always be there to kiss his booboos and make everything better. He had to grow up and fix this whole little drinking and drugging problem of his.
“What is ‘it’ Gabe?” I asked as I tried to drag him over to the couch so that he wouldn’t leave and do something stupid. I would rather not get blamed for his death or something.
“The accident,” he slurred as I lugged what felt like all his weight, over to the couch.
“The accident that had you taking all those pills last time I saw you in the hospital?” I tried the gentile approach and all I got from him was a nod.
“What happened there Gabe?” I questioned trying to keep him conscience long enough to assess what substances he had consumed this time.
“I k-ki-killed them,” he whispered as tears started to fall from his eyes.
I was shocked into silence.
I regained my voice back quickly, “Who Gabe? Who did you kill?”
I heard him gasp a little before he fell right off the couch and landed on his stomach on the ground. I jumped immediately to his side and turned him onto his back and propped him into a sitting position against the couch.
“Gabe! Gabriel! Gabe answer me!” I was slapping his face and tying to get him to come to. Shit!
That leads us to now with me checking his breathing to feel no breathing at all. That’s it, I have to do mouth to mouth or CPR or something! Shit! Thank God I’m a nurse!
“Gabe please breath, we need to fix you,” I whispered to him right before starting mouth to mouth.
He needs to be okay, he just needs to.
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