Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Jamais Vu
Moving Pictures
3 reviews"Where can I go when I want you around, but I can't stand to be around you?"
2Exciting
Author's Note: Sorry about the late update again. Ficwad wasn't working on my computer, and I kept getting some weird cache error.
THANK YOUS
tonytay113: That is the whole problem with Andy & Alex's relationship. They don't really know how to be "nice" to each other without being told exactly what to do.
somethingorother: Hehe. Here's another FOB titled chapter for you.
tryingtohard_x: Aww, thank you for the bowl of stardust. I appreciate it ;)
ash360: Maybe Alex will change, maybe not. You'll have to keep reading to find out.
F-A-S-D: Lucky duck! I've only met Rian. I iz jealous.
STORYYY.
“Hello Michael, I want to play a game. So far in what could loosely be called your life you've made a living watching others. Society would call you an informant, a rat, a snitch. I call you unworthy of the body you possess, of the life that you've been given. Now we will see if you are willing to look inward rather than outward to give up the one thing you rely on in order to go on living…”
As Saw II rolled on, Alex sat on his bed, back against the headboard. I sat between his legs, back against his chest. As they usually did, his hands expertly found their way from around my waist to the hem of my denim shorts.
“I’m trying to watch the movie,” I commented as he ran his fingers along my thigh.
“But you’ve seen it a billion times,” he quipped, lips grazing my shoulder.
“The last time I checked, you were the one who invited me over for a Saw marathon,” I said, turning to face him.
“I know,” he said, pressing his lips against my neck. “But I’d much rather watch you…”
We got through the first movie just fine, but I guess un-horny Alex can only survive for so long.
After all, Alex + Me + dark room = (Alex + Me) - clothes.
“Seriously, I’m not in the mood,” I said, pushing him off me.
He let out a frustrated sigh, and pulled away from me.
“Fine,” he said in a tone of annoyance.
“You know what? I think it’s best that I leave.”
I stood up and grabbed my purse from his desk.
“Andy, wait—”
“You and I both know that nothing’s gonna happen today, so lets just cut our losses and call it a night.”
Sitting on the edge of his bed, he let out a sigh.
“Alright.”
Without a kiss, a hug, or even a wave goodbye, Alex watched me walk out.
After retrieving my keys from my purse, I quickly unlocked my car and headed home. Why I put up with his shit, I don’t know. But I do know that I always end up coming back for more.
I guess part of it has to do with familiarity. With Alex, I always knew what to expect. There were no surprises with him. I knew exactly how to make him smile. Or moan. Or storm off in a jealous rage. Laughing, fucking, or fighting. It was easy. It was simple. It was all I knew about relationships.
Sure he’s a jerk most of the time, but as he so eloquently put it “She can be a bitch sometimes, but I’m an asshole, so it works.” We definitely wouldn’t have lasted as long as we have if it were any other way. It was kind of cute, though, if you think about it; a fucked up fairytale, if you will. In a twisted way, it seemed that Alex and I were made for each other.
I like him. I loathe him. Sometimes I feel both at the same time.
Desperate for something else to think about, I put my iPod on shuffle and let its sound reverberate throughout the car’s speakers.
“Last night I saw a movie
And I thought about many movies I've seen at your house
Excuse me if I'm rude
But I'd rather that we just strike from the record ones I'd see again without you
Leaning on my shoulder
Distracting me from the plotline
Where can I go when I want you around
But I cant stand to be around you?
‘Go home’
I'll walk myself to you
I'll walk myself away from here…”
It’s funny how songs make the most sense when your own thoughts don’t.
After getting home, I headed straight for my room and changed into shorts and a baggy t-shirt—my usual sleep attire. Looking through my DVD collection, I remembered that Slumdog Millionaire was labeled “feel good movie of the decade,” or something like that, which was what I needed. So I popped it in and crawled into bed.
As I laid there and watched the movie, I wondered what made today so different from every other day.
Whenever Alex got too grabby, I’d usually brush it off and that would be the end of it. But today, for some reason, it had genuinely bothered me.
I guess this is what MJ was telling me about— how the hand-holding, flower-giving, birthday-remembering boys trumped the cute, eternally horny boys.
Although her viewpoint started making sense, part of me couldn’t help but cling to the idea that sentimental boys weren’t for me. Sure, they’re sweet and whatnot, but with the hand-holding comes emotional baggage, a.k.a. the biggest turn off in my book.
The fight between Complicated Nice Boy and Simple Horndog raged on, but before a winner could be declared, I found myself focused on plot unfolding on the television screen—Jamal and his brother were able to escape on the train, but Latika hadn’t been so lucky.
The movie rolled on, commanding my complete attention, but once it was over, I was back at square one. Looking over at the clock, I saw that it was 1AM.
With a sigh, I turned off my TV and found myself recapping the thoughts I had earlier. Nice Boy had landed a solid right hook, while Simple Horndog countered with punches below the belt. Under normal circumstances such underhanded tactics would have been swept under the rug, but it seemed that my conscience was kicking in. Rather than declaring a winner on my own, I decided that it was time to call in another referee. So I grabbed my phone and dialed MJ’s number.
+++++
Andrea's finally come to her senses.
What does that mean for her and Alex?
RATE & REVIEW to find out.
;)
THANK YOUS
tonytay113: That is the whole problem with Andy & Alex's relationship. They don't really know how to be "nice" to each other without being told exactly what to do.
somethingorother: Hehe. Here's another FOB titled chapter for you.
tryingtohard_x: Aww, thank you for the bowl of stardust. I appreciate it ;)
ash360: Maybe Alex will change, maybe not. You'll have to keep reading to find out.
F-A-S-D: Lucky duck! I've only met Rian. I iz jealous.
STORYYY.
“Hello Michael, I want to play a game. So far in what could loosely be called your life you've made a living watching others. Society would call you an informant, a rat, a snitch. I call you unworthy of the body you possess, of the life that you've been given. Now we will see if you are willing to look inward rather than outward to give up the one thing you rely on in order to go on living…”
As Saw II rolled on, Alex sat on his bed, back against the headboard. I sat between his legs, back against his chest. As they usually did, his hands expertly found their way from around my waist to the hem of my denim shorts.
“I’m trying to watch the movie,” I commented as he ran his fingers along my thigh.
“But you’ve seen it a billion times,” he quipped, lips grazing my shoulder.
“The last time I checked, you were the one who invited me over for a Saw marathon,” I said, turning to face him.
“I know,” he said, pressing his lips against my neck. “But I’d much rather watch you…”
We got through the first movie just fine, but I guess un-horny Alex can only survive for so long.
After all, Alex + Me + dark room = (Alex + Me) - clothes.
“Seriously, I’m not in the mood,” I said, pushing him off me.
He let out a frustrated sigh, and pulled away from me.
“Fine,” he said in a tone of annoyance.
“You know what? I think it’s best that I leave.”
I stood up and grabbed my purse from his desk.
“Andy, wait—”
“You and I both know that nothing’s gonna happen today, so lets just cut our losses and call it a night.”
Sitting on the edge of his bed, he let out a sigh.
“Alright.”
Without a kiss, a hug, or even a wave goodbye, Alex watched me walk out.
After retrieving my keys from my purse, I quickly unlocked my car and headed home. Why I put up with his shit, I don’t know. But I do know that I always end up coming back for more.
I guess part of it has to do with familiarity. With Alex, I always knew what to expect. There were no surprises with him. I knew exactly how to make him smile. Or moan. Or storm off in a jealous rage. Laughing, fucking, or fighting. It was easy. It was simple. It was all I knew about relationships.
Sure he’s a jerk most of the time, but as he so eloquently put it “She can be a bitch sometimes, but I’m an asshole, so it works.” We definitely wouldn’t have lasted as long as we have if it were any other way. It was kind of cute, though, if you think about it; a fucked up fairytale, if you will. In a twisted way, it seemed that Alex and I were made for each other.
I like him. I loathe him. Sometimes I feel both at the same time.
Desperate for something else to think about, I put my iPod on shuffle and let its sound reverberate throughout the car’s speakers.
“Last night I saw a movie
And I thought about many movies I've seen at your house
Excuse me if I'm rude
But I'd rather that we just strike from the record ones I'd see again without you
Leaning on my shoulder
Distracting me from the plotline
Where can I go when I want you around
But I cant stand to be around you?
‘Go home’
I'll walk myself to you
I'll walk myself away from here…”
It’s funny how songs make the most sense when your own thoughts don’t.
After getting home, I headed straight for my room and changed into shorts and a baggy t-shirt—my usual sleep attire. Looking through my DVD collection, I remembered that Slumdog Millionaire was labeled “feel good movie of the decade,” or something like that, which was what I needed. So I popped it in and crawled into bed.
As I laid there and watched the movie, I wondered what made today so different from every other day.
Whenever Alex got too grabby, I’d usually brush it off and that would be the end of it. But today, for some reason, it had genuinely bothered me.
I guess this is what MJ was telling me about— how the hand-holding, flower-giving, birthday-remembering boys trumped the cute, eternally horny boys.
Although her viewpoint started making sense, part of me couldn’t help but cling to the idea that sentimental boys weren’t for me. Sure, they’re sweet and whatnot, but with the hand-holding comes emotional baggage, a.k.a. the biggest turn off in my book.
The fight between Complicated Nice Boy and Simple Horndog raged on, but before a winner could be declared, I found myself focused on plot unfolding on the television screen—Jamal and his brother were able to escape on the train, but Latika hadn’t been so lucky.
The movie rolled on, commanding my complete attention, but once it was over, I was back at square one. Looking over at the clock, I saw that it was 1AM.
With a sigh, I turned off my TV and found myself recapping the thoughts I had earlier. Nice Boy had landed a solid right hook, while Simple Horndog countered with punches below the belt. Under normal circumstances such underhanded tactics would have been swept under the rug, but it seemed that my conscience was kicking in. Rather than declaring a winner on my own, I decided that it was time to call in another referee. So I grabbed my phone and dialed MJ’s number.
+++++
Andrea's finally come to her senses.
What does that mean for her and Alex?
RATE & REVIEW to find out.
;)
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