Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Loves Punishment

Red, Green, Black and Cream

by DetectiveDaughter 5 reviews

Sometimes love comes at a price. Sometimes love is simple and unkind. Other times love is complicated and such sweet, sweet misery.

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: R - Genres: Drama - Warnings: [!!!] [V] [X] - Published: 2006-11-29 - Updated: 2006-11-29 - 1525 words

Chapter 1

Full on Pulp Fictioned this mother!

She turned her head up toward the ceiling and sucked in a calming breath. The pale green color of the walls was enough to set her off but under the circumstances she figured it was in her best interest to ignore it. She could not, however, ignore the insistent buzzing coming from the bright lamp above her. It set her on edge. So, she was expectantly tapping her fingers on the table set so strategically in the middle of the room with a chair on either side of it. She sighed and looked to the mirror at the right of her a wicked smile dancing across her pouty pink lips. She stood from her chair and walked toward it saucily. As she reached it she put her palm to the cool surface and looked through almost sadly. She let her eyes glaze over and as a tear surfaced she blinked and slid a black polished finger under her dark curls softly moving them out of her eye.

She held back her emotions. She was used to playing happy for the cameras. She took three steps backward and her bottom half encountered the steel table. She hopped up on to it and crossed her legs, right over left, letting her black skirt rise over her creamy thighs. Her hand crept up to the buttons of her white blouse and undid a few revealing her blood red bra just slightly. She was gorgeous and she knew it. She had to believe it, it was her career. Looking good and playing hard.

"When does the interrogation begin officer?" She asked a sexy rasp in her voice. She knew the men on the other side of the glass could hear her. "I hope its you, Detective Johnson, interrogating me. I've always had a thing for tall, handsome detectives."

The man behind the glass loosened his tie and cleared his throat as he watched the beautifully disturbed girl uncross and re cross her legs just slowly enough so he caught a glimpse of her lacy panties. It was going to be him interrogating her and he was looking forward to it secretly. He had discovered upon her arrest earlier that night that she had the most delicious way of confusing you with her tight curvy body. It was his job to get her story though and his impure thoughts of what he could do to her on that cold table were wrong. He bit back his desires and chewed on the inside of his cheek. The others in the room studied his face trying to read his expression, but having worked as a cop for so many years he hid his thoughts well.

"She is a wild one isn't she boss?" One of his colleagues asked.

"Yeah Bobby, she is." Dean, the detective, answered. "A real wild one." He paused thinking over all the events of the past couple days. "She might be hard to crack, but I have a feeling she wants to be caught."

"My thoughts exactly. She is just a little too brave." Bobby nodded toward the two way mirror just as she trailed a finger down the opening in her shirt.

"I hope we can get to be good friends Detective Johnson." She bit her lip."Really good friends." She giggled to herself and scooted off of the table taking a seat in the chair she had occupied minutes before.

Dean looked at Bobby and paced the room once or twice before taking a deep breath and exiting the room with one last thought, "Wish me luck, Bobby. It's going to be a long night."

"Luck boss." The younger man replied in hopes of it really having an impact as his friend walked out of the room hesitantly.

Dean shuffled into the interrogation room with a tape recorder in hand and closed the door. His eyes met the back of her head that was covered in soft black spirals and he closed his eyes mentally preparing himself for her advances. She turned to look at him with big green eyes and smiled.

"I've been waiting for you." He walked carefully to the chair on the other side of the table and sat down.

"Well...I'm here and its about time for a chat." He replied pushing a button on the machine. A red light came on signaling it was recording. "Ms. Ryan when did you an..."

"Call me Arissa, please." She interrupted.

"Arissa," He sighed, "When did you and Mr. Wentz last see each other?"

"About three days ago." She answered nonchalant. "I went over to his place to pick up a few of my belongings."

"Why were you picking up your belongings? To my understanding you were involved with Mr. Wentz and you had been living together for the past two years."

"We had been involved and yes I had been living with him, but we'd had an argument and I was staying with a mutual friend of ours." She answered.

"What was the friends name?"

"Patrick Stumph."

"What did you argue about?" Dean asked next.

"What is your first name Detective Johnson?"

"I'm asking the questions here." He answered her a bit annoyed at her attempt to switch places with him.

"I've been a good girl and answered them." Arissa said with a frown. "I think I deserve a little something too. Don't you?" She asked making it clear that she wasn't going to make this easy on him.

"My names Dean." He answered quickly. "What was the argument about?"

"Nothing major. A regular fight between lovers."

"From what I've been told the fights between you and Mr. Wentz were never 'regular' as you put it." Dean ventured.

"Well, it was a normal fight for us." She paused. "Then again, Its easy to forget what is normal and what isn't when you are a musician. A famous one at that..." She trailed off and shook a few curls out of her face. "How old are you?"

"So would you say you lose touch with reality when you are a celebrity?"

"No. I didn't say that. Don't try and trick me into admitting insanity." She swallowed hard. "All I meant was you lose track of space and time. The things you go through everyday at times make everything else seem trivial. Other times it makes things seem bigger than they really are." She used her hands to gesture sizes and sat up in her chair. "Peter always blew everything out of proportion. I always took things lightly. We were always fighting about me not caring and him being over dramatic. That isn't something your average couple fights about...not to that extent anyway. But of us both being musicians and all...It was normal."

"So would you say you were angry at each other a lot?" She narrowed her eyes at me obviously waiting for a answer to her previous question. "Twenty-Nine."

"Hmm...Pushing thirty baby." Her eyes lit up. "We fought and made up on a daily basis. We weren't angry, just frustrated. It was routine. Twisted, but normal...for us."

"So, what was different this time? Why didn't you make up?" Dean asked.

"Dean, sweetie, routine is boring." She licked her lips making them look inviting. "Tiring. I was tired of being tired."

"So...y-y-you left." He stammered trying hard not to focus on the glisten she'd brought to her lips with that one slip of her tongue.


"Were you not in love with him anymore?"

"That wasn't it at all. You don't just fall out of love." Arissa looked down at her hands. "I just couldn't keep up with the fights anymore. It was always something different. Always something silly in my opinion." She looked up and waited for another question.

"Did he want you to go?"

"Would you want me to go?" She looked over her tiny frame and laughed when he let his eyes wander as well. "He begged me to stay, to work it out. I felt suffocated and betrayed. I had to leave."

"Betrayed?" Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "Why betrayed?" His question was met with silence. He tried again. "What happened to make you feel betrayed?"

Arissa again didn't answer and Dean realized she wasn't going to. He decided he would come back to that later. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and placed them in front of her. She reached for them and placed one between her lips. Dean leaned over the table and offered a light to her.

"Thanks." She whispered inhaling slightly.

"Let's start from the beginning." He tried as he got a cigarette for himself. "How did you end up living together?"

"People meet and fall in love." Arissa smiled and took a drag on her cigarette. "Isn't it just that simple sometimes?"

"Yes." He answered exhaling a puff of smoke. "But I have a feeling this wasn't one of those times...was it?" She chuckled.

"No." She took another drag and looked down at the shiny diamond engagement ring on her slim finger. "No, it wasn't."

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