FicWad

DESOLE
This morning was going to be awkward and unpleasant and more than likely heart breaking, but I didn’t know what else I could do at this point. I saw no other realistic options. Today, we’d checked into a hotel for later tonight after the show. Until then we would basically just wander about and be bored. Milo helped me to conjure up a plan while I was getting ready this morning. We walked from our room down to where they were serving free breakfast. Just as we suspected, all the guys were already sitting there eating. Milo patted my hand and I took a breath before plunging in.

“Hey, there she is!” Frank greeted me with his pretty grin. I faked a groan and shut my eyes right before flopping into the empty seat in front of him, right across from Gerard. Gerard wasn’t looking at me, but not in a negative way. He was just sitting there, stirring his coffee and smirking to himself. He was probably still fantasizing about last night. I could barely stand the sight of him, knowing what we did together in the back of that van.

“Not so loud Frank. I have the most killer hangover.” I fake whined, resting my head on the table. The plan was simple; I was pretend to be hung over and make last night seem like a drunken mishap. I was a good actress, I knew I’d be able to pull it off. I’d even smudged some purple eye shadow under my eyes for dramatic effect.

“Really? I thought you only have two beers last night?” he asked, lowering his voice kindly. I groaned again and shook my head.

“I’ll go get you a coffee if you want.” Mikey offered from the table next to us. One of the many things I loved about this band was that it was made up of some of the sweetest, most caring boys I’d ever met.

“Thank you sweet pea, that would be just wonderful of you.” I said groggily. Mikey smiled at me and gave a nod before dashing off to get the coffee. I turned my attention back to Frank.

“I had one and a half Four Loco’s.” I explained. Four Loco was a really hard liquor that tasted just like an energy drink, but had the same amount of alcohol as a six pack of beer. I had my experiences with that drink, and I knew well enough to stay away. But I needed it to make the rest of my story seem legitimate. Me saying this caught Gerard’s attention. He stopped stirring his coffee but kept his head down. I clenched my teeth, knowing that what I was about to say next would tear him apart.

“Ouch!” Frank cringed sympathetically. I nodded sadly. Mikey then came back with my coffee. He set it in front of me and I thanked him before continuing my fib.

“Yeah, I can’t remember a single thing about last night. I kind of remember the performance and then after that its all a big blur. I hope I didn’t do anything too stupid. I tend to do some really crazy, out of character things when I’m jacked up on that stuff.” I lied, looking at Gerard.

He looked up and I wished he hadn’t. In his eyes I saw the most hurt expression I’d ever witnessed come from a human being. For a second he paused. He was hurt, I could see it. Then he rolled his eyes and scoffed before getting up from the table and storming off, leaving his coffee behind. A silence fell over the table. Now I really felt sick to my stomach. I pushed my chair back so that I could get up, too.

“Thank you for the coffee, Mikey.” I said blankly before turning on my heel and just walking away. Milo stayed behind to eat, so I just went back up to our hotel room alone. I wanted to be alone. I needed some peace and quiet so that I could get my thoughts straight.

GERARD
Last night was perfect in so many ways. It was everything I had hoped it would be, more than that even. Last night when I went to bed I dreamed about the vision of her laying out underneath me, naked and porcelain and beautiful. I still had the taste of Desolé’s mouth on my lips the next morning and the memory of feeling every inch of her against me. It was something I never wanted to forget. Something I probably never would forget. But it seemed as though Desolé had different thoughts about last night…

“Yeah, I can’t remember a single thing about last night. I vaguely remember the performance and then after that its all a blur. I hope I didn’t do anything too stupid. I tend to do some really crazy, out of character things when I’m jacked up on that stuff.” Desolé said, her gaze meeting mine. I felt a burning hot, almost rage like feeling spread through me.

I couldn’t look at her anymore after she said that. I was too choked up to yell or scream or shout. I shot her one final disappointed, angry glance before I stormed off. She was lying! She had two beers and was perfectly sober last night! Why was she doing this? Did she regret it? Probably…I told her if she wanted me to stop I would. But no, it wasn’t enough just to do that. She had to humiliate me. I wasn’t just upset at this point; I was mad at her.

I’d never been angry with her. It had never even crossed my mind to be so much as upset, but I was angry. I was hurt and heart broken even more than I was angry. Why did she always pull this shit? Why did she always have to shoot for jugular? Why couldn’t this one tiny thing work out for me, just this once? I wasn’t asking for much! All I wanted was her. And despite how upset and angry I was, I still wanted her and only her. And I hated myself for it.

“Hey man, you okay?” Frank asked, suddenly poking his head into the hotel room. I sat on the bed, defeated and not knowing where to go from here.

“No.” I said flatly. I felt the bed sink a little bit as Frank sat next to me. I stared at the ground, lost in a weird sort of daze. Frank patted my back in an attempt to comfort me, but nothing was working.

“Gerard, if she is just going to fuck around with you and not see what a great guy you are, then she can go fuck herself!” Frank told me. I glared at him

“Don’t say that about her!” I snapped. Why was I defending her? She’d just broken my heart into a thousand pieces in front of everybody. Frank raised his eyebrows, but then shook his head.

“I just…why would she say that? She told me that she wanted last night to be the way it was. Why did she say that?” I mumbled to myself. Frank looked confused, probably because I didn’t tell him or any of the guys about last night yet.

“What do you mean? Are you talking about the show?” he asked. I shook my head and ran my fingers through my unwashed hair.

“No, okay! We slept together last night! We had sex!” I explained loudly. Frank’s eyebrows shot up and he shot me a smug grin. I was not in the mood deal with him right now.

“You fucked her? Tell me, who was on top? How was it? Where’d you guys go?” he pried, sending mental images from last night rocketing through my brain.

“Don’t say it like that! We didn’t fuck, we made love.” I insisted. Frank let out a snort and I held back the urge to punch him in the arm. Was it really that bad that I wanted last night to be mentioned as something a little classier than just “fucking”?

“Whatever man. You need to ditch this bitch. She’s fucking with your mind.” Frank said bluntly. I glared at him again.

“Don’t call her a bitch.” I said sharply. Here I was, defending her again. I an idiot for still loving her, but I couldn’t help it. Through all the bull shit she’d put me through, I still loved her and I probably always would. Frank shook his head and got up, walking out of the room. I was thankful; I wanted to have some time to myself.

All I could think was that Desolé was probably regretting the night before. But why was she so heartless? Milo was right, she was a man eater. I’d seen her break a thousand hearts, but I always told myself I would be different. And here I was, more heart broken than anybody before me. I was so furious with her for what she had just done. But then I felt guilty for being furious. I was just swimming in a gigantic pool of mixed emotions, confusion and despair.

And that’s when it hit me; I had fallen in love with the one in the whole wide world girl who didn’t know how to love. She was lust without love, she was touch without affection. She was want without need…

DESOLE

THAT NIGHT
All day long I avoided Gerard like he had the plague, but it was okay because he was avoiding me too. I was scared and saddened by the possibility that he may hate me forever and that we would never talk again. And all because I let my stupid, girlish emotions get the best of me. At least I learned not to trust myself with my feelings. Seems as though they were always getting me into some sort of trouble.

But of course, there was a party tonight before the show. The only reason I was going to go was because I wanted to get so drunk that I couldn’t remember last night, even if I tried. It wasn’t that I regretted that night, not in the slightest. I just wanted all the pain and stupidity that went along with it to vanish. But it seems I couldn’t have one without the other. I wasn’t very good at obeying my “no drinking before shows” rule, was I?

Milo was off dancing like a damn fool, trying to make me laugh and succeeded greatly. I was standing against the wall backstage, drinking my fifth beer and feeling the happiest I’d felt since early last night. I turned to my left side and suddenly noticed as a lovely little brunette appeared by my side, as if by magic. She was a pretty young thing with dark chocolate curls and big brown eyes. She was wearing a shining, black latex shirt that reminded me of cat women because it pushed her boobs up so much. She had on tight leather pants and Louis Vittons.

“Hello hello.” I greeted her, turning my attention fully on her. With such pretty, big brown eyes she deserved all of my attention.

“You’re Desolé, right?” she asked in a kind of squeaky voice. Her voice reminded of those bubble-gum cheerleader girls from high school, but not in an annoying way.

“Why yes I am.” I smiled at her. She giggled and my heart melted. I couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or if she just reminded me of Leah. Looking and talking to her was like being punched in the face by the past.

“My name’s Robin. This is my first rock show, I don’t really know what to do.” she chimed, batting her long eyelash extensions.

“Well, you’re certainly dressed for the part.” I winked at her. What was wrong with a little flirting? I needed to get my spirits back up before the show tonight.

But before I even knew what was happening, I felt a pair of gloss covered lips press against mine. Flirting, I would’ve been fine with but this was just a step too far. I tried pushing her off of me but she had dug her manicured fingers into my hair was holding on for dear life. But I kept trying to push her away, hoping to god there weren’t any photographers around. Last thing I needed was another hysterical call from my mother about how I was “turning into a lesbian”.

Suddenly, I felt a very firm hand on my shoulder, ripping me away from little Raunchy Robin. I was thankful, Milo had just saved my ass from suffocating. I was about to fall into him and hug him before we called security to through this bitch out. But then I looked up and saw that it wasn’t Milo who had “saved” me; it was Gerard.

My stomach did a flip and all I could do was gape as he pulled me away from Robin, through the crowd and over to a bathroom. Gerard pulled me into the bathroom and shut the door. I felt like a trapped animal. I wanted out, out, out. Good god, this was like the Playboy photo shoot all over again…

“What the fuck do you think your doing?!” he shouted at me. I was angry at first. Why did he have to come along and ruin my fun? Even though that kiss wasn’t fun, but an invasion of my privacy.

“Who the fuck are you to be telling me what to do Gerard! I’ll kiss who I want to kiss! You aren’t my dad!” I got defensive for split second, but then he tore down my walls the way only he could.

“You think you can just fuck me, pretend it didn’t happen and then go play tonsil hockey with somebody else?!” he continued. I bit my lip and glanced at myself in the mirror. Robin’s lip gloss was smudged all down my lower lip and chin.

“Gerard, it wasn’t like that okay. She attacked me. I was trying to get away.” I mumbled, staring at the cracked and dirty tiles we were both standing on.

“Why did you say that this morning Desolé?” he asked, his voice full of hurt. I looked directly up at him. There was a weight in his eyes, and it weighed on my heart.

“What are you talking about?” I said, at least giving it one last try to see if I could keep up my charade. But I knew there would be no hope.

“Fuck you! You had two beers! And by the time we were in that fucking van you were completely sober.” he spat at me. As true as this was and as guilty as I felt, I didn’t appreciate being yelled at in a gross ass bathroom.

“Look, I know I fucked up this morning. I didn’t know what else to do! I panicked! I ran, like I always do! But I knew if I didn’t do what I did, you’d get carried away with yourself.” I insisted. Gerard gave me the most fed up look.

“What are you even talking about?” he scoffed bitterly. I held back my urge to hit him because of his attitude.

“I knew you’d think that it meant we’re in a relationship, but we aren’t.” I said flatly. I had to get my message across to him. It was time to cut the crap and get down to business.

“But why couldn’t we be in a relationship? Why would that be so bad?” he asked, his slowly becoming quieter and sweeter. He was only making this harder for me. I hated doing this, but I wasn’t going to give into him.

“What do you want from me?!” I screamed at him. I tripped over my high heels and literally fell out of the bathroom door and back into the party. Gerard snagged my arm and pulled me back up before I even hit the ground.

“Get off of me!” I snapped, raising my hand to slap him away. Milo appeared by me side and snatched my hand.

“No, Desolé. We don’t hit, use your words. But make it quick, we only have a few minutes before we have to get onstage.” Milo said calmly, as if he were talking to a five year old. I yanked my hand away and huffed.

“Desolé, I want a solid relationship with you. I want to be there for you, more than anything in the world. I want to be with you.” Gerard begged, his eyes wide and pleading. I was too drunk to notice that everybody was staring at us now, but I didn’t care what I looked like. It felt like the world was falling around me.

“You were with me, remember?! You fucked my brains out last night in the back of that van, remember? You were with me! You had your turn!” I shouted, staring at the ceiling to reverse the direction of the hot tears that were about to start flowing.

“Desolé, please. What are you so afraid of? Please, let’s just work something out. Anything.” Gerard said, lowering his voice even more when he saw that I was in tears. I let out a pathetic little whimper and wiped Robin’s sticky lip gloss off of my chin.

“Can we just be friends? Please, I just want to be friends. We could even be friends with benefits, as long as we stay friends. I don’t want to loose you, but I don‘t wanna deal with this..” I said honestly. Gerard looked sad and confused.

“Friends with benefits?” he asked, crinkling his eyebrows. Milo tapped his watch, signaling that we had to get a move on. I kept wiping my tears off my cheeks, impatient with them and wishing they would just stop.

“Yeah, you know, fuck buddies. No strings attached. All the fun of fooling around without the commitment or the hassle!” I offered. Gerard sighed and bit his lip. I could tell that was not what he was going for at all.

“Fine, fine. We’ll talk about this later, in private. You have to get onstage.” he said dejectedly. I felt I had finally gotten through to him this time. Being friends with benefits would probably be great for both of us. Why couldn’t I stop crying though? Gerard put his arms around me and pulled me into a tiny, cute little kiss.

“For good luck.” he said when he pulled away. I was stunned and thankful. Maybe things were going to work out for once. Maybe this is how it was supposed to be. I nodded and hugged him one last time before turning and walking out onstage with Milo and the rest of the band.

I was still crying when we got out there. I stood at the foot of the stage for a few seconds, looking out at all the crazy kids through blurry eyes. But somebody in the front row caught my attention; a teenager with orange-red hair in a blue shirt.

“Are you okay?” I saw him mouth out to me when our eyes met. I couldn’t hear him because of the noise, but I could see what he was saying. I felt my heart warm up and spread through my whole body when he said that. I was one proud mama at that moment, realizing how much I really did love my fans. Even if I was walking onstage crying my eyes out, I had to give them a performance that I was proud of.

“Yeah, honey, I’m fine.” I said into the microphone as I picked it up. To everybody else it probably sounded like drunk babble, but this ginger kid knew I was talking to him. I dried my eyes and smiled pretty for the cameras and the kiddies and put on a show.