Categories > Movies > Breakfast Club > Of Big Shots and Bohemians
Allison and Aaron flew back to New York that morning and arrived home early that afternoon. Upon returning home, Allison immediately headed for the bedroom and slammed the door, afterwards locking it. Allison fell into bed and wrapped herself in her own sheets, and drifted off into a saddened sleep. Helene had been on the sofa drinking a can of beer and watching TV.
"Aaron? What's with her?" asked Helene.
"Andy let her go. It was horrible! Poor Mouse," Aaron said. Helene got up.
"Andy went through with the wedding? That asshole!" said Helene. Aaron shook his head.
"No, he didn't go through with it, but he chose to stay with Vanessa," said Aaron. Helene groaned.
"Allison deserves so much better than that douche bag anyhow. Poor thing's been through so much. Life was so much better before she ran into him. We were so happy. Just us, the three Musketeers going strong. Now she's a goddamn wreck! I wanna shoot him! I swear to god if I had a gun..." Helene raged. Aaron took her shoulder.
"Helene, sometimes bloodshed does NOT solve your problems!" said Aaron.
"But it just depresses me when she's depressed!" said Helene. "She's the core of our threesome, you know. Like an apple. You're the skin, you hold the three of us together. I'm that white stuff in between, I'm kinda just there, I guess. But we all tend to center around our Mouse, don't we?" observed Helene. Aaron nodded.
"We're a family, no doubt about that," said Aaron.
Aaron sat down on the sofa and asked Helene for a can of beer. She gave it to him quickly and sat down beside him. "Aaron, Allison's really taking this hard, isn't she?"
"No doubt about that," said Aaron.
"What's heartbreak like?" asked Helene. "You've experienced it, she's experienced it. I haven't really yet," she said. Aaron nodded and closed his eyes.
"You hurt a LOT. Then you want to kill the person who betrayed you, then after that you get extremely pessimistic and depressed, wondering what went wrong, then finally you move on," Aaron said. "The sun comes out eventually."
Helene nodded. "I need my guitar," she said, Going to her instrument and taking it outside. She shut the door behind her and began to play a soft, tragic lament. Aaron remembered when she wrote that: for Gregg's funeral. She'd really tuned it up and added a few bridges. Helene rarely played the lament. When she did, it was for a sad day. For a death, usually (she played it whenever someone in the neighborhood passed). The death today was Allison's spirit. The murderer was Andy's pride, his failure to be able to listen to his heartsong. Aaron sank into the sofa and thought. As Helene skillfully strummed the minor chords, Aaron, on a whim, got up and went for his coat. Helene noticed and went back inside.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"I have an idea of where he might be," Aaron said.
"What are you gonna say?" asked Helene.
"I don't know. I really don't. Helene, take care of Mouse for me while I'm out, ok? I might be out awhile."
Helene nodded. "Yes, Aaron," she obliged. Aaron gently went out the door. Helene picked up her guitar and continued her mourner's lament.
~~~~~
Meanwhile, Allison lay ensnared in her sheets, tormented by those goddamn flashbacks about what might have been. So many wonderful visions! She saw views of children going off to school, going to a midnight movie together once the kids were asleep, or simply sitting around the TV at night. Allison was haunted by this vision the most, the TV scene. Andy was sitting in a recliner, reading the paper and glancing at the news every now and then. An older child (always a son) sitting at the coffee table, drawing out his homework for kindergarten. A younger child (a daughter) playing with a doll or toy truck on the floor, her little stomach flat on the ground. Allison would always be the last to enter the scene. She'd come in and sneak behind Andy's head and kiss his temple area. Andy would jump slightly off his seat, them smile and kiss her on the lips. Then she'd sit on his chair's arm and wrap her arms around his shoulders. It went on like that. It was the scene of a perfect family. A family Allison missed out on in her youth. A family that Allison just missed out on again. Both times it wasn't her fault. It wasn't her fault she'd been born to parents who didn't want her. It wasn't her fault Andy didn't have the balls to call off a simple engagement. Why did SHE always end up absorbing the shock of other people's faults? She was the scapegoat, the whipping girl, the one who always took the rap for some else's problem. Andy chose Vanessa. Allison was left out in the cold again. Allison wrapped her entire body in another layer of sheets and rolled over. Only one good thing came out of this whole thing.
With Andy gone, she could never be betrayed by him ever again.
~~~~~
Andy had gotten home around the same time Allison had. Vanessa had gone straight home to sleep (she had a slight case of jet lag). Andy wanted to go back to the office. It was closed, but he needed to reschedule a few appointments for the ones he missed. He managed to rearrange everything within an hour. But he still didn't want to go home. He didn't want to look at Vanessa. The metaphorical ball-and-chain Andy had around his neck turned real as a lump would always form whenever he looked at her. Vanessa wasn't so pretty. He could walk down to any newsstand and see a Vanessa look-alike on any given magazine cover. She was cookie-cutter material. Just like his world.
Andy leaned back in his chair at his desk and suddenly caught sight of the drawer that held the photo of him and Allison. Andy took it out again and stared at it. Allison stood out despite her black clothes. Her demi-smile was radiant. Her hair was almost touchable, looking feathery and soft. Andy could almost smell her conditioner. Too bad he didn't pick her. They might have made it.
But he and Vanessa would make it. She was safe and secure. Andy was convinced he made the right choice.
Then why did he feel so guilty? Andy groaned and crumpled up the picture, tossing it into the wastebasket, along with all of his emotions of Allison. Andy shot up and decided he needed a walk. He locked up and walked down the street towards the park.
"Aaron? What's with her?" asked Helene.
"Andy let her go. It was horrible! Poor Mouse," Aaron said. Helene got up.
"Andy went through with the wedding? That asshole!" said Helene. Aaron shook his head.
"No, he didn't go through with it, but he chose to stay with Vanessa," said Aaron. Helene groaned.
"Allison deserves so much better than that douche bag anyhow. Poor thing's been through so much. Life was so much better before she ran into him. We were so happy. Just us, the three Musketeers going strong. Now she's a goddamn wreck! I wanna shoot him! I swear to god if I had a gun..." Helene raged. Aaron took her shoulder.
"Helene, sometimes bloodshed does NOT solve your problems!" said Aaron.
"But it just depresses me when she's depressed!" said Helene. "She's the core of our threesome, you know. Like an apple. You're the skin, you hold the three of us together. I'm that white stuff in between, I'm kinda just there, I guess. But we all tend to center around our Mouse, don't we?" observed Helene. Aaron nodded.
"We're a family, no doubt about that," said Aaron.
Aaron sat down on the sofa and asked Helene for a can of beer. She gave it to him quickly and sat down beside him. "Aaron, Allison's really taking this hard, isn't she?"
"No doubt about that," said Aaron.
"What's heartbreak like?" asked Helene. "You've experienced it, she's experienced it. I haven't really yet," she said. Aaron nodded and closed his eyes.
"You hurt a LOT. Then you want to kill the person who betrayed you, then after that you get extremely pessimistic and depressed, wondering what went wrong, then finally you move on," Aaron said. "The sun comes out eventually."
Helene nodded. "I need my guitar," she said, Going to her instrument and taking it outside. She shut the door behind her and began to play a soft, tragic lament. Aaron remembered when she wrote that: for Gregg's funeral. She'd really tuned it up and added a few bridges. Helene rarely played the lament. When she did, it was for a sad day. For a death, usually (she played it whenever someone in the neighborhood passed). The death today was Allison's spirit. The murderer was Andy's pride, his failure to be able to listen to his heartsong. Aaron sank into the sofa and thought. As Helene skillfully strummed the minor chords, Aaron, on a whim, got up and went for his coat. Helene noticed and went back inside.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"I have an idea of where he might be," Aaron said.
"What are you gonna say?" asked Helene.
"I don't know. I really don't. Helene, take care of Mouse for me while I'm out, ok? I might be out awhile."
Helene nodded. "Yes, Aaron," she obliged. Aaron gently went out the door. Helene picked up her guitar and continued her mourner's lament.
~~~~~
Meanwhile, Allison lay ensnared in her sheets, tormented by those goddamn flashbacks about what might have been. So many wonderful visions! She saw views of children going off to school, going to a midnight movie together once the kids were asleep, or simply sitting around the TV at night. Allison was haunted by this vision the most, the TV scene. Andy was sitting in a recliner, reading the paper and glancing at the news every now and then. An older child (always a son) sitting at the coffee table, drawing out his homework for kindergarten. A younger child (a daughter) playing with a doll or toy truck on the floor, her little stomach flat on the ground. Allison would always be the last to enter the scene. She'd come in and sneak behind Andy's head and kiss his temple area. Andy would jump slightly off his seat, them smile and kiss her on the lips. Then she'd sit on his chair's arm and wrap her arms around his shoulders. It went on like that. It was the scene of a perfect family. A family Allison missed out on in her youth. A family that Allison just missed out on again. Both times it wasn't her fault. It wasn't her fault she'd been born to parents who didn't want her. It wasn't her fault Andy didn't have the balls to call off a simple engagement. Why did SHE always end up absorbing the shock of other people's faults? She was the scapegoat, the whipping girl, the one who always took the rap for some else's problem. Andy chose Vanessa. Allison was left out in the cold again. Allison wrapped her entire body in another layer of sheets and rolled over. Only one good thing came out of this whole thing.
With Andy gone, she could never be betrayed by him ever again.
~~~~~
Andy had gotten home around the same time Allison had. Vanessa had gone straight home to sleep (she had a slight case of jet lag). Andy wanted to go back to the office. It was closed, but he needed to reschedule a few appointments for the ones he missed. He managed to rearrange everything within an hour. But he still didn't want to go home. He didn't want to look at Vanessa. The metaphorical ball-and-chain Andy had around his neck turned real as a lump would always form whenever he looked at her. Vanessa wasn't so pretty. He could walk down to any newsstand and see a Vanessa look-alike on any given magazine cover. She was cookie-cutter material. Just like his world.
Andy leaned back in his chair at his desk and suddenly caught sight of the drawer that held the photo of him and Allison. Andy took it out again and stared at it. Allison stood out despite her black clothes. Her demi-smile was radiant. Her hair was almost touchable, looking feathery and soft. Andy could almost smell her conditioner. Too bad he didn't pick her. They might have made it.
But he and Vanessa would make it. She was safe and secure. Andy was convinced he made the right choice.
Then why did he feel so guilty? Andy groaned and crumpled up the picture, tossing it into the wastebasket, along with all of his emotions of Allison. Andy shot up and decided he needed a walk. He locked up and walked down the street towards the park.
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