Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Perfect
Let's put a long story short; Internet Ban + Bad Internet = No Updates for any of my productions. I'm so terribly sorry and I understand if I have lost even my most faithful readers, but, such is life and I finish whatever I start. So, the next installment is here, enjoy, my pretties! :) Thank you's: ColdHardBitch, DarkArwen27, tornpantyhose, GreenDayCrazy, coke-freak, XrayPineapple, k8ie, Punkness89, p_xox_p, rok_owt_loud!, and Mrs. Andie Francis.
Chapter 004
[Play]
I awoke to an immediate and quite painful throbbing in the back of my head. Pushing up from my bed, I found myself fully dressed from last night. Last night? What? It all came rushing back at me, the party, Mikey, and... the fight. The pieces all slowly fell into place. How long was I out? I glanced at the clock and was shocked to find that it read eight minutes after one...in the afternoon. The pounding in my head had yet to cease and I began to wonder if last night?s events with Mikey were considered abuse. No, absolutely not. And, though the matter begged for more attention and mental prodding, it was pushed to back of my mind as I changed into homebody clothes.
Out in the kitchen, I found a hastily written note in Jamia?s writing telling me that she and Frankie had gone out on a date and not to wait up. A big relief that was, I wasn?t feeling much for company today anyways. I took this opportunity of leisure and me-time to pounce on my poor couch with a box of cereal to watch the telly with. Most of the channels consisted of those stupid religious programs that tell you to bring all your troubles to the Lord.
"Lord schmord." I hissed at southern accented woman just as the door bell rang. "Coming!" I shouted at the person on the other side as I approached. This was one of those times where I wish I didn?t have the habit of answering the door verbally before I had the chance to actually take a look at who was on the other side. A peep-hole observation revealed Mikey standing awkwardly on the stoop. Crap in a jumpsuit. Seeing no other way out of this, I cautiously opened the door.
Instead of seeing his face, I found a bouquet of roses attempting to smother me with a heart-shaped box of chocolates as its choice accomplice.
"I'm really sorry for what happened last night.", he began from behind the peace offerings. "I was drunk as hell and I didn?t mean anything that I said or did."
I stood there, not knowing what I should do. But I knew that I, too, had an apology to make. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have gotten on your case about what you had to drink, that was your business and I should have been more understanding."
Slowly, the floral arrangement and the box were lowered into the side table next to the door and Mikey came close for a hug which I gladly received. It's over, thank Buddha, it's over.
[Fast-Forward]
The last two months of the twentieth century went by quickly and as did the first semester of my senior year. By the time spring break rolled over and died on me and the rest of the gang, I had finally met Mikey's famed grandmother, Elena. At first she didn't speak to me much, just watched me interact with her grandsons, but eventually she warmed up to me. She wasn't around often, just during major holidays; rumor has it that she could be moving to Belleville to be closer to family. Nothing's set in stone yet, but I digress.
While the rest of the senior class was buzzing in excitement over their last highschool prom, unless you were a pedophile who would go again next year with a younger student, Mikey and I decided that we would go to a loverly Radiohead concert instead. And since Frankie and Jamia had opted to attend the said prom instead, the non-conformist couple had license to mock them for a bit.
[Play]
"You do know that they don't play anything other than Bitchney Speared and incomprehensible rap at those things, don't you?" I was perusing unending seas of ultra girly chiffon, taffeta, and other utter nonsense with Jamia at the mall when I notified her of the rest of the world's preference on "music".
My fine little friend gave a hoot of laughter as she pulled a lime-green dress at me to catch. "You're horrible, Andie Prom won't be that bad, have you ever even gone to a dance?"
"Once." I admitted. "But that was in Junior High when shiny things like metallic frilled posters attracted me. However, no more shall they conquer Andie DeAngelis!"
Giggling like the wee school girls we were, Jamia dragged me to the dressing rooms to grade the dresses she picked out according to what Frankie would like, so I assumed the mind of the nut named my B.F.F. for life. In the end she picked a deep purple, slim fitting gown that had a trail of sequins and sparkles in the front. She looked so stunning that, for a moment, I almost wished that I was going too. Keyword almost.
[Fast-Forward]
The night of the concert and prom Mikey and I were already on the road and ready for a good time. Little did I know what was actually in-store for me.
[Play]
We had been driving for a good half hour, jamming to all our favorite tunes when I suggested that we go through our check list just to make sure we had everything before we got too far to turn back and still make it on time.
"...Gas?"
"In the tank or in my bowels?"
"Oh tee-hee No, really?"
"Check."
"Mmm, extra cash?"
"Czech Republic."
"Cute, tickets?"
"Che- Wait. I thought you had them...?" Mikey's smile faded as did mine as he looked at me.
"Nu-uh hun, you were supposed to pick them up from my night stand." Shit shooting sharks. He was starting to look upset. Hell, forget upset, it looked like he was going to go postal on me
He immediately took the next exit and took another freeway route, back the way we came as he spoke his volume going up a notch with each word. "How the fuck was I supposed to know it was on your night stand?", he spat glaring at me in between swerving around other cars.
"Cool your jets, Mike, it's not the end of the world!" I managed as I held onto the heaven help me handles on the ceiling of the car. I glanced at the clock. Okay, Radiohead was his favorite band, we had fifteen minutes to get there, and the tix were half an hour away; it might as well be the end of the world for him.
Mikey threw me a dirty look from behind his glasses as he continued to drive precariously back to my apartment. The yelling continued to escalate until we reached the complex where he proceeded to literally drag me up two flights of stairs. After throwing the front door open and tossing me inside, the door swung shut and shuddered in it?s poor, old frame.
"Why are you so fucking clueless?!" Mikey roared as he tore through the tiny living room for the tickets.
"Baby, I didn"t--" But my interjection was drowned out when he whirled about and headed towards me. I should have run at that point but his blind anger rooted me to the spot just behind the breakfast table.
"Baby, I didn't what? I didn't what Andie?" He sneered throwing the chairs and table aside to continue down his warpath directed right at me. "You can't even get a sentence out I don't even understand why I?m with such an idiot like you."
"That's not fair Mikey!" And, true, it wasn't fair that he was being such an asshole when I was trying to calm him down and make sense of the situation. "You're blowing this completely out of proportion." Yet, me speaking didn't help matters, only made it worse on my end. In an instant he had me on the floor, clutching at my face. The force of his backhand made, not only my face sting, but my eyes as well. I remained huddled on the floor afraid he would strike me again if I tried to get up. A sharp intake of breath from Mikey made me look up.
"Oh God, Andie!" He gasped no anger in his eyes or tone as he realized what he had just done. "I-I..." His arms reached out to hold me only to have me push away and move farther from him. "I'm sorry, Andie, I don?t know what came over me. I just.. I'm sorry..."
I didn't want to see him, not after that. "I can't be with you right now." Pushing my body off the floor I walked as quickly as I could to my room before he went bipolar on me and decided the number he did on me wasn't enough. Once I closed and locked my bedroom door behind me, the waterworks came alive. Deciding where the palpable emotion came from being slapped to the floor or from the words that Mikey had uttered made me sick. What was going on with Mikey, with us? I didn't have much time to contemplate what exactly it was for he was at my door asking me to open up and let him explain himself.
"Andie, please come out of there. We need to talk about this, I need you to hear me out. Please?" I got the image of him whimpering like a puppy in the rain, begging to be let in. And, truth be told, I almost gave in, yet the stinging of my cheek wouldn?t let me forget what he did to me. Spotting the tickets on my night stand, I picked them up and crouched next to the door and slid them under the crack, not speaking a word. This was my pathetic retribution, not speaking to him, which I know would either make him ache over it a little more or fire up his anger again. The latter happened.
"Fine, be a little bitch about this!" He snapped, pounding at the door as he spoke. "I don't give a damn!"
I could hear Mikey stomping away from my bedroom and towards and out of the front door. The resonating slam and still silence that followed afterwards ensured me that he was gone. In the distance his old car roared to life and tinkered slightly as he sped out of the parking lot.
Never one for bellyaching and moping about, I crept out of my room to check on my injury, not failing to notice that he had taken his prized tickets. In the bathroom mirror, I found Mikey's encounter with my face fading a bit though the whip-like stinging still twitched about it. After cleaning up my puffy face, from the crying, with a splash of cold water, I went to the kitchen for a cold compress consisting of a package of frozen vegetables.
I lay on the couch, in the darkened livingroom contemplating what had transpired between me and Mikey. Why was he so quick to anger? Did anyone else know about his temper? Should I tell someone? Yeah right, who? I couldn't tell Frankie or Jamia, they had their trials in their relationship like everyone else. I touched upon a shred of hope, maybe this was just a trial of our relationship, maybe Mikey and I were going through another rough spot. Just like last Halloween when... But I quickly pushed that memory out of my thoughts as somewhere in the chambers of my mind spoke, very softly, "This isn't a healthy relationship if he abuses you." "Oh, shut up, you." I whispered to it. "What do you know about abuse anyway?" Great, I"m talking to myself, idiot.
I hope everyone sticks around to read what happens next because this thing is so not over yet, not by a long-shot.
9 August 2006/ 9:04p
Chapter 004
[Play]
I awoke to an immediate and quite painful throbbing in the back of my head. Pushing up from my bed, I found myself fully dressed from last night. Last night? What? It all came rushing back at me, the party, Mikey, and... the fight. The pieces all slowly fell into place. How long was I out? I glanced at the clock and was shocked to find that it read eight minutes after one...in the afternoon. The pounding in my head had yet to cease and I began to wonder if last night?s events with Mikey were considered abuse. No, absolutely not. And, though the matter begged for more attention and mental prodding, it was pushed to back of my mind as I changed into homebody clothes.
Out in the kitchen, I found a hastily written note in Jamia?s writing telling me that she and Frankie had gone out on a date and not to wait up. A big relief that was, I wasn?t feeling much for company today anyways. I took this opportunity of leisure and me-time to pounce on my poor couch with a box of cereal to watch the telly with. Most of the channels consisted of those stupid religious programs that tell you to bring all your troubles to the Lord.
"Lord schmord." I hissed at southern accented woman just as the door bell rang. "Coming!" I shouted at the person on the other side as I approached. This was one of those times where I wish I didn?t have the habit of answering the door verbally before I had the chance to actually take a look at who was on the other side. A peep-hole observation revealed Mikey standing awkwardly on the stoop. Crap in a jumpsuit. Seeing no other way out of this, I cautiously opened the door.
Instead of seeing his face, I found a bouquet of roses attempting to smother me with a heart-shaped box of chocolates as its choice accomplice.
"I'm really sorry for what happened last night.", he began from behind the peace offerings. "I was drunk as hell and I didn?t mean anything that I said or did."
I stood there, not knowing what I should do. But I knew that I, too, had an apology to make. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have gotten on your case about what you had to drink, that was your business and I should have been more understanding."
Slowly, the floral arrangement and the box were lowered into the side table next to the door and Mikey came close for a hug which I gladly received. It's over, thank Buddha, it's over.
[Fast-Forward]
The last two months of the twentieth century went by quickly and as did the first semester of my senior year. By the time spring break rolled over and died on me and the rest of the gang, I had finally met Mikey's famed grandmother, Elena. At first she didn't speak to me much, just watched me interact with her grandsons, but eventually she warmed up to me. She wasn't around often, just during major holidays; rumor has it that she could be moving to Belleville to be closer to family. Nothing's set in stone yet, but I digress.
While the rest of the senior class was buzzing in excitement over their last highschool prom, unless you were a pedophile who would go again next year with a younger student, Mikey and I decided that we would go to a loverly Radiohead concert instead. And since Frankie and Jamia had opted to attend the said prom instead, the non-conformist couple had license to mock them for a bit.
[Play]
"You do know that they don't play anything other than Bitchney Speared and incomprehensible rap at those things, don't you?" I was perusing unending seas of ultra girly chiffon, taffeta, and other utter nonsense with Jamia at the mall when I notified her of the rest of the world's preference on "music".
My fine little friend gave a hoot of laughter as she pulled a lime-green dress at me to catch. "You're horrible, Andie Prom won't be that bad, have you ever even gone to a dance?"
"Once." I admitted. "But that was in Junior High when shiny things like metallic frilled posters attracted me. However, no more shall they conquer Andie DeAngelis!"
Giggling like the wee school girls we were, Jamia dragged me to the dressing rooms to grade the dresses she picked out according to what Frankie would like, so I assumed the mind of the nut named my B.F.F. for life. In the end she picked a deep purple, slim fitting gown that had a trail of sequins and sparkles in the front. She looked so stunning that, for a moment, I almost wished that I was going too. Keyword almost.
[Fast-Forward]
The night of the concert and prom Mikey and I were already on the road and ready for a good time. Little did I know what was actually in-store for me.
[Play]
We had been driving for a good half hour, jamming to all our favorite tunes when I suggested that we go through our check list just to make sure we had everything before we got too far to turn back and still make it on time.
"...Gas?"
"In the tank or in my bowels?"
"Oh tee-hee No, really?"
"Check."
"Mmm, extra cash?"
"Czech Republic."
"Cute, tickets?"
"Che- Wait. I thought you had them...?" Mikey's smile faded as did mine as he looked at me.
"Nu-uh hun, you were supposed to pick them up from my night stand." Shit shooting sharks. He was starting to look upset. Hell, forget upset, it looked like he was going to go postal on me
He immediately took the next exit and took another freeway route, back the way we came as he spoke his volume going up a notch with each word. "How the fuck was I supposed to know it was on your night stand?", he spat glaring at me in between swerving around other cars.
"Cool your jets, Mike, it's not the end of the world!" I managed as I held onto the heaven help me handles on the ceiling of the car. I glanced at the clock. Okay, Radiohead was his favorite band, we had fifteen minutes to get there, and the tix were half an hour away; it might as well be the end of the world for him.
Mikey threw me a dirty look from behind his glasses as he continued to drive precariously back to my apartment. The yelling continued to escalate until we reached the complex where he proceeded to literally drag me up two flights of stairs. After throwing the front door open and tossing me inside, the door swung shut and shuddered in it?s poor, old frame.
"Why are you so fucking clueless?!" Mikey roared as he tore through the tiny living room for the tickets.
"Baby, I didn"t--" But my interjection was drowned out when he whirled about and headed towards me. I should have run at that point but his blind anger rooted me to the spot just behind the breakfast table.
"Baby, I didn't what? I didn't what Andie?" He sneered throwing the chairs and table aside to continue down his warpath directed right at me. "You can't even get a sentence out I don't even understand why I?m with such an idiot like you."
"That's not fair Mikey!" And, true, it wasn't fair that he was being such an asshole when I was trying to calm him down and make sense of the situation. "You're blowing this completely out of proportion." Yet, me speaking didn't help matters, only made it worse on my end. In an instant he had me on the floor, clutching at my face. The force of his backhand made, not only my face sting, but my eyes as well. I remained huddled on the floor afraid he would strike me again if I tried to get up. A sharp intake of breath from Mikey made me look up.
"Oh God, Andie!" He gasped no anger in his eyes or tone as he realized what he had just done. "I-I..." His arms reached out to hold me only to have me push away and move farther from him. "I'm sorry, Andie, I don?t know what came over me. I just.. I'm sorry..."
I didn't want to see him, not after that. "I can't be with you right now." Pushing my body off the floor I walked as quickly as I could to my room before he went bipolar on me and decided the number he did on me wasn't enough. Once I closed and locked my bedroom door behind me, the waterworks came alive. Deciding where the palpable emotion came from being slapped to the floor or from the words that Mikey had uttered made me sick. What was going on with Mikey, with us? I didn't have much time to contemplate what exactly it was for he was at my door asking me to open up and let him explain himself.
"Andie, please come out of there. We need to talk about this, I need you to hear me out. Please?" I got the image of him whimpering like a puppy in the rain, begging to be let in. And, truth be told, I almost gave in, yet the stinging of my cheek wouldn?t let me forget what he did to me. Spotting the tickets on my night stand, I picked them up and crouched next to the door and slid them under the crack, not speaking a word. This was my pathetic retribution, not speaking to him, which I know would either make him ache over it a little more or fire up his anger again. The latter happened.
"Fine, be a little bitch about this!" He snapped, pounding at the door as he spoke. "I don't give a damn!"
I could hear Mikey stomping away from my bedroom and towards and out of the front door. The resonating slam and still silence that followed afterwards ensured me that he was gone. In the distance his old car roared to life and tinkered slightly as he sped out of the parking lot.
Never one for bellyaching and moping about, I crept out of my room to check on my injury, not failing to notice that he had taken his prized tickets. In the bathroom mirror, I found Mikey's encounter with my face fading a bit though the whip-like stinging still twitched about it. After cleaning up my puffy face, from the crying, with a splash of cold water, I went to the kitchen for a cold compress consisting of a package of frozen vegetables.
I lay on the couch, in the darkened livingroom contemplating what had transpired between me and Mikey. Why was he so quick to anger? Did anyone else know about his temper? Should I tell someone? Yeah right, who? I couldn't tell Frankie or Jamia, they had their trials in their relationship like everyone else. I touched upon a shred of hope, maybe this was just a trial of our relationship, maybe Mikey and I were going through another rough spot. Just like last Halloween when... But I quickly pushed that memory out of my thoughts as somewhere in the chambers of my mind spoke, very softly, "This isn't a healthy relationship if he abuses you." "Oh, shut up, you." I whispered to it. "What do you know about abuse anyway?" Great, I"m talking to myself, idiot.
I hope everyone sticks around to read what happens next because this thing is so not over yet, not by a long-shot.
9 August 2006/ 9:04p
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