Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > I Find It Hard To Stay
Pen was relieved when everyone left. The tears had dried on her face, making her cheeks stiff and tight, and her eyelids heavy. Crying always made her feel very sleepy. She lay down on the bed and tried to fall asleep. Just as she felt herself drifting off, Pen felt a weight added to the bed.
She decided not to turn around. Pretend she was asleep, and whoever it was would probably go away.
Bob was not so easily fooled. "What's wrong, Penelope?" Other than the obvious, he thought to himself.
"Sore," she mumbled into the pillow, willing to talk to Bob, since his presence calmed her.
"Yeah, I hear that happens when girls...you know, their first time..."
"S'not fair," she said, sniffling.
"Yeah, I know. Girls get achey for a week, and to guys, nothing--"
"I'm not talking about that, Bob," Pen said, sitting up and facing him.
He looked her in the eyes, measuring his words. "Yeah, I know. You're right about that, too. I'm sorry," Bob's eyes held sympathy for the girl.
"Why me?" she whispered as Bob situated himself onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard.
"I...don't--know..." he said, wishing he had an answer to give her. "But you know, Penelope, every time things get worse, it just makes it that much better when they improve. Right?" It was lame; he knew it, but it seemed to improve Penelope's mood, just a bit. A small smile played at her lips for a moment, then she frowned again.
"It's still not fair...I feel like...like a part of me is missing and I don't even remember losing it," tears began to leak down her face once more, coating her cheeks and glittering like jewels on the tips of her eyelashes. Her lower lip trembled slightly, and Bob had the strong urge to pull her into his lap, kiss her hair, and tell her everything would be alright.
As though she were reading his mind, she sniffed and clambered into his lap, leaning back against him so that her head was on his chest. She curled up and closed her eyes, trying to relax to the rhythm of Bob's even breathing, and the rise and fall of his chest.
Bob was still awake long after Penelope had fallen asleep. It was the middle of the day, after all, and he hadn't been out all night partying hard. He closed his eyes, however, more to keep anyone who may have walked in from thinking he was a creeper.
Mikey walked in after a while, and saw Bob and Pen asleep. A pang of jealousy shot through him. He had come here with the express intent of comforting her, but it seemed that Bob had gotten there first. His arms were wrapped around Pen, and she was snuggled into his lap; both of them were sleeping soundly. Mikey frowned, slightly.
He had to admit to himself that he really liked Pen, and he always wanted to be there to help her stop crying. From the looks of the dried tears streaked on her porcelain white cheeks, Bob had already done that, too.
Bitterly, Mikey sat down on his own bed. Should he wake Bob and tell him to get lost? No, he knew he wouldn't do that; it would be way too obvious, and he'd probably wake Pen. In the end, Mikey just got up and went to Gerard's room to watch his older brother snort coke or pass out on the bed after his fifteenth alcoholic beverage of sorts.
When Pen woke up, she was alone in her bed and the five band members were in the room with her, whispering. She sat up, alerting them to the fact that she was awake.
"Speak of the devil," Frank said, eyeing her.
"What're you guys talking about?"
"Well, we have a concert to play tonight. We were wondering whether you'd wanna go, or just--"
"You mean I can go?" Pen interrupted, eyes wide. She'd never gone to a concert before, but all her friends made it out to be the best experience of their lives.
"Yeah, sure. If you want to, that is."
"Hell yes, I do!" she said excitedly.
"Great. I didn't think you'd be so enthusiastic about this. Well, we have to be there by 3:30, and it's 2:30 now. Can you be ready by 3:00?"
"Yeah," she jumped out of the bed and ruffled through her duffel before pulling out a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. She quickly changed in the bathroom and brushed her teeth. At ten minutes to three, she walked out and crammed all her things into the bag to bring on the bus, since they were leaving the hotel today as well.
The group loaded onto the bus and drove the short distance to the venue. It was a relatively small place, but a good size.
There wasn't much for Pen to do before the show started; the guys were all helping to set up, but she knew she wouldn't be much of a help. So she just sat backstage, watching everyone working, and fooling around with someone's iPod.
Finally, everything was set up and people were being let in. The five guys and their guest chilled in the green room, the nerves among the band evident.
After what seemed like forever, the head tech guy came in and told Pen to get down into the audience and the band to take their place on stage. Pen wished them all luck and ran to her place in the crowd, not wanting to miss a moment of MCR's (as she had taken to abbreviating it as) performance.
It was times like these that Pen was grateful for her small size; she was able to weasel and worm her way to be right up close to the stage to see her friends perform. Was it maybe a little unfair because she wasn't even a fan and yet she got to hang out with them every day, and yet here were all these fan-girls and -boys that would do anything to be just that much closer to their idols? Yes, Pen decided, but she didn't care. It was her first concert, and she intended to make the most of it.
Pen was amazed when the band came on. Gerard, loud and excitable at times, but mostly quiet, was quite a stage presence! He interacted with the fans at the stage, winked at Pen, screamed profanities to the crowd, and made all the girls in the room squeal with excitement.
"Gerard, I love you!" one girl shrieked in Pen's left ear. She tried to shoot the annoying girl a dirty look, but the girl wasn't even paying attention; her attention was glued to the older Way brother. Pen followed her line of vision and continued watching the show. She put on her best face, preparing to fake-smile her ass off the minute the band began to play; she didn't want to offend them, but they seemed like the type to play the whiney, punky kind of music that she wasn't really into.
As she saw Frank, Mikey, and Ray lift the guitars, and Bob begin to lift his sticks, Pen prepared her ears. She winced as they began to play; this music was just so...good. Wait. Pen wore a confused expression; they weren't playing anything like she thought. As she listened to song after song, the eloquence of the melodies, the intricacies of the lyrics swilled around in her mind.
...And stand
Up fuckin' tall
Don't let them see your back.
And take
My fuckin' hand and never be afraid again...
Pen found herself swaying her hips, tapping her foot in time with Bob's drums and bobbing her head to the guitar riffs.
...Well, let's go back to the middle of the day that starts it all.
I can't begin to let you know just what I'm feelin'...
How catchy! Before too long, Pen was shaking her hips and jumping up and down with the rest of them; unable to sing along, but picking up the tune and pretending like she knew the words.
Between every few songs, Gerard spoke and interacted with the crowd, eliciting screams and squeals and rousing cheers. It was wild, and Pen was laughing and having the best time ever. Before the last song, Gerard caught her eye and winked almost unnoticeably. She detected a glint of something in his eye. Mischief? She couldn't help but smile, wondering what he was up to.
Gerard kneeled right down and reached his hand out to Pen, motioning for her to walk forward, and he addressed her. "Hey, Little Red," he winked once more as Pen rolled her eyes, still smiling. "What's your name?"
She gave him a look; he knew perfectly well who she was. What game was he playing?
"Pen..." she said, hesitantly.
"Pen? Like, I write my fucking awesome lyrics with a Pen?" Another cheer arose at this and Pen laughed, believing that she was catching on.
"Yeah, like that."
"Gimme your hand," he demanded, suddenly. She reached out and he grabbed her wrist, yanking her onto the stage beside him. Away from the microphone, he whispered, "Just go with it."
She nodded, burning with curiosity as to what his plan was.
"Do you know what the next song we're gonna play is?"
She looked at him; of course she didn't. She had no idea what any of their songs were. "N-no..."
Everyone booed, and Pen could've sworn that somebody threw a cup at her.
"No?" Gerard looked incredulously at her, yet still holding that shine of humour in his eyes. "Are you a poseur? Hmm?"
The light bulb went off, and Pen finally realized what he was getting at. "No!" She shrieked, thankful for the Drama I classes she had taken in Freshman year for improv. "I'm not a poseur! I'm not! I swear it!" her face was a mask of mortification.
"I think you are!" Gerard declared. "I think you are a poseur! Poseur! Poseur! Poseur!" Everyone picked up the chant, getting louder and louder, tossing their fists into the air in unison. Pen covered her face with her hands and ran off the stage, pretending to be sobbing when, in reality, she was laughing so hard she could barely stand straight. The second she made it into the wings of the stage, she collapsed against a wall, shaking with laughter. Wiping tears from her eyes, she walked to the Green Room to wait for the guys to be done.
In minutes, they had joined her, and all of them began laughing uproariously, falling all over one another as they recalled the confused look on Pen's face, and her corny acting. Their Myspace would be bombarded with people wondering if it was real or not by morning.
"Gerard," Pen gasped through her peals of laughter. "When you first pulled me onstage, I was like, 'What the fuck?' Then you said that stuff about being a poseur and I was like 'Oh!' Haha!" They all finally settled down, controlling themselves down to occasional chuckles. "So," Pen addressed everyone. "You guys: that was an awesome show! I was seriously, like, blown away! You all have a great stage presence; I loved it!"
"Awh, Little Red," Frank patronized. "Are you getting a soft spot for us? Maybe you'll become a fan girl and throw your bra at Gerard with your phone number written on it!"
Pen just laughed it off with everyone else, in too good of a mood for Frank to spoil. Even so, she was still incredibly mad at him. She seethed just remembering what had happened. "I'm going to get a drink," she declared, standing. "Does anyone want anything?" Everyone shook their heads, so Pen shrugged and went to get herself something.
Despite the fact that her body was still pretty much exactly the same, Pen felt just a little bit empty. Like, when you have a toy that you've had for a really long time that you don't even play with anymore, so you get rid of it, only to discover that its absence makes more of an impact on you than you would have thought.
She shook her head, wanting to rid herself of these thoughts. Instead, she tried to return to the concert. She had a few of the tunes stuck in her head, and she hummed the only words she knew over and over to herself.
"...I find it hard to stay
With the words you say..."
This went through Pen's mind as she poured herself a glass of water from a small pitcher on the table in the refreshment room. She sipped the cool drink, hoping to chill out. She heard someone enter the room and stand behind her. She turned to see Frank standing there, looking down at her.
"What do you want," she mumbled, not making eye contact.
"I want to apologize."
"Yeah, right."
"No," he placed his index finger beneath her chin and tilted Pen's head upward so that she was looking him in the eyes. "Really. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you. No matter how smashed I was, my judgment has never been that impaired. I'm sorry."
He looked so sincere, so real. His voice was soft and remorseful, and smooth like silk. Pen believed every word he said. "It's...alright. I forgive you." This new feeling for Frank made Pen uncomfortable, and she wanted to get out as quickly as possible. "We were both drunk when we did that last night." She tried to walk out, but Frank grabbed her hand.
"You know," he said, smooth and soft. "We wouldn't have to be drunk to do it again." Frank pulled Pen in closer, slowly, until she was up against him, her hands on his chest, his hands around her wrists. He gazed down into her eyes, locking her greens with his nearly-green eyes. Tiny fingers of electricity scaled her spine, giving her chills from Frank's simple touch.
Their faces gravitated together, filling the distance between them in a matter of seconds. Frank brushed a single, light-as-a-feather kiss across Pen's lips, causing her to reflexively follow his face with her own as he pulled away. "I shouldn't..." she murmured, knowing that she would. Frank kissed her again, a bit longer this time. "No," she said weakly when he pulled away. "I just--" Kiss. "...We shouldn't, I mean--" Kiss. "...I---" Kiss. This time, she didn't pull away.
Frank's hands roamed her body, running up and down her back and encircling her waist and hips. Pen slid her arms around Frank's neck, pulling him closer, her fingers climbing up into his hair and tugging at it gently. She whimpered softly into his mouth as his hands slipped beneath her tee shirt, tugging it up slightly.
"Pen--" he panted when she pulled away for air. Just for a moment, and their mouths were connected once more.
"Frank," another stern voice filled the room. Mikey! Pen tried to jump away, but Frank held her still.
"What?" he asked innocently.
"Let's try not manipulating our guest into sex again, hmm?"
Frank finally let go of Pen, shrugging his shoulders. "What do you expect? She's hot, and I'm horny."
With that, he walked out of the room. Leaving Pen, with her mouth agape and feeling hollow, with Mikey, who was feeling a little hostility towards both Pen and Frank (but mostly Frank).
"Pen," he began. "I--"
"Never mind," Pen interrupted, turning back to the table of drinks. There was water, pop, juice, beer...
She grabbed a beer and cracked it open, guzzling the whole thing down in a few minutes and wiping her mouth. Sure, last time she got drunk, she had lost her memory and judgment, but she remembered a bit before blacking out; she was happy, free-feeling, laughing at everything before she had just gone too far. Tonight, she would make sure not to go too far. She wanted to remember the happy feeling.
Gadzooks, that was a lengthy chapter. Sorry for that, kids, I didn't even notice that it had gotten so saturated. Oh well. For those of you confused about the last chapter, yes, Pen and Frank did the dirty deed: they fucked. Was that too blunt? Sorry, but that's what happened. For some reason, that confuses all the readers...Hmm...Oh well. So yeah, STAY FUCKING TUNED FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER. It's an absolute HUGE turning point for the story, huge. Okay. Rate/REVIEW/Sub. OverAndOutxx
She decided not to turn around. Pretend she was asleep, and whoever it was would probably go away.
Bob was not so easily fooled. "What's wrong, Penelope?" Other than the obvious, he thought to himself.
"Sore," she mumbled into the pillow, willing to talk to Bob, since his presence calmed her.
"Yeah, I hear that happens when girls...you know, their first time..."
"S'not fair," she said, sniffling.
"Yeah, I know. Girls get achey for a week, and to guys, nothing--"
"I'm not talking about that, Bob," Pen said, sitting up and facing him.
He looked her in the eyes, measuring his words. "Yeah, I know. You're right about that, too. I'm sorry," Bob's eyes held sympathy for the girl.
"Why me?" she whispered as Bob situated himself onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard.
"I...don't--know..." he said, wishing he had an answer to give her. "But you know, Penelope, every time things get worse, it just makes it that much better when they improve. Right?" It was lame; he knew it, but it seemed to improve Penelope's mood, just a bit. A small smile played at her lips for a moment, then she frowned again.
"It's still not fair...I feel like...like a part of me is missing and I don't even remember losing it," tears began to leak down her face once more, coating her cheeks and glittering like jewels on the tips of her eyelashes. Her lower lip trembled slightly, and Bob had the strong urge to pull her into his lap, kiss her hair, and tell her everything would be alright.
As though she were reading his mind, she sniffed and clambered into his lap, leaning back against him so that her head was on his chest. She curled up and closed her eyes, trying to relax to the rhythm of Bob's even breathing, and the rise and fall of his chest.
Bob was still awake long after Penelope had fallen asleep. It was the middle of the day, after all, and he hadn't been out all night partying hard. He closed his eyes, however, more to keep anyone who may have walked in from thinking he was a creeper.
Mikey walked in after a while, and saw Bob and Pen asleep. A pang of jealousy shot through him. He had come here with the express intent of comforting her, but it seemed that Bob had gotten there first. His arms were wrapped around Pen, and she was snuggled into his lap; both of them were sleeping soundly. Mikey frowned, slightly.
He had to admit to himself that he really liked Pen, and he always wanted to be there to help her stop crying. From the looks of the dried tears streaked on her porcelain white cheeks, Bob had already done that, too.
Bitterly, Mikey sat down on his own bed. Should he wake Bob and tell him to get lost? No, he knew he wouldn't do that; it would be way too obvious, and he'd probably wake Pen. In the end, Mikey just got up and went to Gerard's room to watch his older brother snort coke or pass out on the bed after his fifteenth alcoholic beverage of sorts.
When Pen woke up, she was alone in her bed and the five band members were in the room with her, whispering. She sat up, alerting them to the fact that she was awake.
"Speak of the devil," Frank said, eyeing her.
"What're you guys talking about?"
"Well, we have a concert to play tonight. We were wondering whether you'd wanna go, or just--"
"You mean I can go?" Pen interrupted, eyes wide. She'd never gone to a concert before, but all her friends made it out to be the best experience of their lives.
"Yeah, sure. If you want to, that is."
"Hell yes, I do!" she said excitedly.
"Great. I didn't think you'd be so enthusiastic about this. Well, we have to be there by 3:30, and it's 2:30 now. Can you be ready by 3:00?"
"Yeah," she jumped out of the bed and ruffled through her duffel before pulling out a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. She quickly changed in the bathroom and brushed her teeth. At ten minutes to three, she walked out and crammed all her things into the bag to bring on the bus, since they were leaving the hotel today as well.
The group loaded onto the bus and drove the short distance to the venue. It was a relatively small place, but a good size.
There wasn't much for Pen to do before the show started; the guys were all helping to set up, but she knew she wouldn't be much of a help. So she just sat backstage, watching everyone working, and fooling around with someone's iPod.
Finally, everything was set up and people were being let in. The five guys and their guest chilled in the green room, the nerves among the band evident.
After what seemed like forever, the head tech guy came in and told Pen to get down into the audience and the band to take their place on stage. Pen wished them all luck and ran to her place in the crowd, not wanting to miss a moment of MCR's (as she had taken to abbreviating it as) performance.
It was times like these that Pen was grateful for her small size; she was able to weasel and worm her way to be right up close to the stage to see her friends perform. Was it maybe a little unfair because she wasn't even a fan and yet she got to hang out with them every day, and yet here were all these fan-girls and -boys that would do anything to be just that much closer to their idols? Yes, Pen decided, but she didn't care. It was her first concert, and she intended to make the most of it.
Pen was amazed when the band came on. Gerard, loud and excitable at times, but mostly quiet, was quite a stage presence! He interacted with the fans at the stage, winked at Pen, screamed profanities to the crowd, and made all the girls in the room squeal with excitement.
"Gerard, I love you!" one girl shrieked in Pen's left ear. She tried to shoot the annoying girl a dirty look, but the girl wasn't even paying attention; her attention was glued to the older Way brother. Pen followed her line of vision and continued watching the show. She put on her best face, preparing to fake-smile her ass off the minute the band began to play; she didn't want to offend them, but they seemed like the type to play the whiney, punky kind of music that she wasn't really into.
As she saw Frank, Mikey, and Ray lift the guitars, and Bob begin to lift his sticks, Pen prepared her ears. She winced as they began to play; this music was just so...good. Wait. Pen wore a confused expression; they weren't playing anything like she thought. As she listened to song after song, the eloquence of the melodies, the intricacies of the lyrics swilled around in her mind.
...And stand
Up fuckin' tall
Don't let them see your back.
And take
My fuckin' hand and never be afraid again...
Pen found herself swaying her hips, tapping her foot in time with Bob's drums and bobbing her head to the guitar riffs.
...Well, let's go back to the middle of the day that starts it all.
I can't begin to let you know just what I'm feelin'...
How catchy! Before too long, Pen was shaking her hips and jumping up and down with the rest of them; unable to sing along, but picking up the tune and pretending like she knew the words.
Between every few songs, Gerard spoke and interacted with the crowd, eliciting screams and squeals and rousing cheers. It was wild, and Pen was laughing and having the best time ever. Before the last song, Gerard caught her eye and winked almost unnoticeably. She detected a glint of something in his eye. Mischief? She couldn't help but smile, wondering what he was up to.
Gerard kneeled right down and reached his hand out to Pen, motioning for her to walk forward, and he addressed her. "Hey, Little Red," he winked once more as Pen rolled her eyes, still smiling. "What's your name?"
She gave him a look; he knew perfectly well who she was. What game was he playing?
"Pen..." she said, hesitantly.
"Pen? Like, I write my fucking awesome lyrics with a Pen?" Another cheer arose at this and Pen laughed, believing that she was catching on.
"Yeah, like that."
"Gimme your hand," he demanded, suddenly. She reached out and he grabbed her wrist, yanking her onto the stage beside him. Away from the microphone, he whispered, "Just go with it."
She nodded, burning with curiosity as to what his plan was.
"Do you know what the next song we're gonna play is?"
She looked at him; of course she didn't. She had no idea what any of their songs were. "N-no..."
Everyone booed, and Pen could've sworn that somebody threw a cup at her.
"No?" Gerard looked incredulously at her, yet still holding that shine of humour in his eyes. "Are you a poseur? Hmm?"
The light bulb went off, and Pen finally realized what he was getting at. "No!" She shrieked, thankful for the Drama I classes she had taken in Freshman year for improv. "I'm not a poseur! I'm not! I swear it!" her face was a mask of mortification.
"I think you are!" Gerard declared. "I think you are a poseur! Poseur! Poseur! Poseur!" Everyone picked up the chant, getting louder and louder, tossing their fists into the air in unison. Pen covered her face with her hands and ran off the stage, pretending to be sobbing when, in reality, she was laughing so hard she could barely stand straight. The second she made it into the wings of the stage, she collapsed against a wall, shaking with laughter. Wiping tears from her eyes, she walked to the Green Room to wait for the guys to be done.
In minutes, they had joined her, and all of them began laughing uproariously, falling all over one another as they recalled the confused look on Pen's face, and her corny acting. Their Myspace would be bombarded with people wondering if it was real or not by morning.
"Gerard," Pen gasped through her peals of laughter. "When you first pulled me onstage, I was like, 'What the fuck?' Then you said that stuff about being a poseur and I was like 'Oh!' Haha!" They all finally settled down, controlling themselves down to occasional chuckles. "So," Pen addressed everyone. "You guys: that was an awesome show! I was seriously, like, blown away! You all have a great stage presence; I loved it!"
"Awh, Little Red," Frank patronized. "Are you getting a soft spot for us? Maybe you'll become a fan girl and throw your bra at Gerard with your phone number written on it!"
Pen just laughed it off with everyone else, in too good of a mood for Frank to spoil. Even so, she was still incredibly mad at him. She seethed just remembering what had happened. "I'm going to get a drink," she declared, standing. "Does anyone want anything?" Everyone shook their heads, so Pen shrugged and went to get herself something.
Despite the fact that her body was still pretty much exactly the same, Pen felt just a little bit empty. Like, when you have a toy that you've had for a really long time that you don't even play with anymore, so you get rid of it, only to discover that its absence makes more of an impact on you than you would have thought.
She shook her head, wanting to rid herself of these thoughts. Instead, she tried to return to the concert. She had a few of the tunes stuck in her head, and she hummed the only words she knew over and over to herself.
"...I find it hard to stay
With the words you say..."
This went through Pen's mind as she poured herself a glass of water from a small pitcher on the table in the refreshment room. She sipped the cool drink, hoping to chill out. She heard someone enter the room and stand behind her. She turned to see Frank standing there, looking down at her.
"What do you want," she mumbled, not making eye contact.
"I want to apologize."
"Yeah, right."
"No," he placed his index finger beneath her chin and tilted Pen's head upward so that she was looking him in the eyes. "Really. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you. No matter how smashed I was, my judgment has never been that impaired. I'm sorry."
He looked so sincere, so real. His voice was soft and remorseful, and smooth like silk. Pen believed every word he said. "It's...alright. I forgive you." This new feeling for Frank made Pen uncomfortable, and she wanted to get out as quickly as possible. "We were both drunk when we did that last night." She tried to walk out, but Frank grabbed her hand.
"You know," he said, smooth and soft. "We wouldn't have to be drunk to do it again." Frank pulled Pen in closer, slowly, until she was up against him, her hands on his chest, his hands around her wrists. He gazed down into her eyes, locking her greens with his nearly-green eyes. Tiny fingers of electricity scaled her spine, giving her chills from Frank's simple touch.
Their faces gravitated together, filling the distance between them in a matter of seconds. Frank brushed a single, light-as-a-feather kiss across Pen's lips, causing her to reflexively follow his face with her own as he pulled away. "I shouldn't..." she murmured, knowing that she would. Frank kissed her again, a bit longer this time. "No," she said weakly when he pulled away. "I just--" Kiss. "...We shouldn't, I mean--" Kiss. "...I---" Kiss. This time, she didn't pull away.
Frank's hands roamed her body, running up and down her back and encircling her waist and hips. Pen slid her arms around Frank's neck, pulling him closer, her fingers climbing up into his hair and tugging at it gently. She whimpered softly into his mouth as his hands slipped beneath her tee shirt, tugging it up slightly.
"Pen--" he panted when she pulled away for air. Just for a moment, and their mouths were connected once more.
"Frank," another stern voice filled the room. Mikey! Pen tried to jump away, but Frank held her still.
"What?" he asked innocently.
"Let's try not manipulating our guest into sex again, hmm?"
Frank finally let go of Pen, shrugging his shoulders. "What do you expect? She's hot, and I'm horny."
With that, he walked out of the room. Leaving Pen, with her mouth agape and feeling hollow, with Mikey, who was feeling a little hostility towards both Pen and Frank (but mostly Frank).
"Pen," he began. "I--"
"Never mind," Pen interrupted, turning back to the table of drinks. There was water, pop, juice, beer...
She grabbed a beer and cracked it open, guzzling the whole thing down in a few minutes and wiping her mouth. Sure, last time she got drunk, she had lost her memory and judgment, but she remembered a bit before blacking out; she was happy, free-feeling, laughing at everything before she had just gone too far. Tonight, she would make sure not to go too far. She wanted to remember the happy feeling.
Gadzooks, that was a lengthy chapter. Sorry for that, kids, I didn't even notice that it had gotten so saturated. Oh well. For those of you confused about the last chapter, yes, Pen and Frank did the dirty deed: they fucked. Was that too blunt? Sorry, but that's what happened. For some reason, that confuses all the readers...Hmm...Oh well. So yeah, STAY FUCKING TUNED FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER. It's an absolute HUGE turning point for the story, huge. Okay. Rate/REVIEW/Sub. OverAndOutxx
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