Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Why Can't You See How Much I Love You?
Hope you like this chapter! As always, I love getting reviews, just to know what you think! :D There was going to be more, but it got pretty long, so I decided to post it anyways. (Blink 182 - I Miss You)
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Why doesn't she change her ring tone?! Vicky's phone was ringing and so she got up from the bed to answer it as I paused the episode. I wondered who had phoned her, since she didn't sound too happy, so I asked and she mouthed "Ben" back to me. Great, that jackass is back. Wait, I said I wouldn't be jealous... But I'm not jealous; I just don't trust him.
Her look of concern and worry scared me slightly, so once she had hung up, muttering something I couldn't quite make out, I questioned, "What did he want?"
"Erm, he's had some problems with his parents. Well, a drunken father hitting him and his mom."
That shook me. I had no idea what that was like, but I had been best friends with Ryan when his dad did all that shit, and empathising is more than I can really handle. I always felt for those kids who have had to go through that, but then again, I was thrown out by my parents... "God, is he ok? I've had enough experience with this kind of thing." After hearing the "joke" and seeing Vicky's slightly alarmed face, I wanted to kick myself. "Sorry, bad joke."
Thankfully, she understood. Well, she always has! "It's ok. Would it be alright if I go and see him then?" she popped a question quietly but calmly.
Jealousy and anger coursing racing through me, I was getting hotter; my forehead was burning up a little. "What?" I asked her in a cautious tone.
"He just wants someone to talk to..." she continued, keeping her voice as level as she could, but it didn't change how I felt. She's my girlfriend! Why is he so attached to her!?
"And he phoned you for that? Couldn't phone anyone else, could he?" Perhaps I was being over the top, but I couldn't see that. All I saw was him trying to take advantage of her. How was I supposed to just let her go to him with those kinds of thoughts going through my head?!
"Ben probably didn't feel like he could talk to anyone else. Are you still jealous of him? I thought we sorted this out!" she was starting to get annoyed now too, but I still stuck to my selfish attitude. I'm not perfect.
"I wouldn't have a problem if my girlfriend didn't go running to Ben as soon as he clicks his fucking fingers!" I didn't like that guy, if you hadn't noticed.
"Why can't you see how much I love you?! Because I do!" she cried at me. I was feeling uncomfortable now, not just angry.
"It's not about love" I said more softly now.
"No, it's about trust; you don't trust me," she said forcefully, venomously.
"Of course I trust you! I love you!" I tried to tell her. It was the truth.
"Love isn't everything! Just because you love me, doesn't mean you trust me!" Her words were hitting me hard, but it just made me angrier. For god sakes, I love that girl, and I trust her, but can she see that? No. So how is that my problem?
"Just go and see him," I told her simply, turning away from her. I couldn't look at her right now, and I just wanted some time to calm down. Then I could talk to her rationally.
"What? What do you mean?" she asked a little stupidly.
"I mean, you go and see Ben. I'll stay here," I repeated, trying to make it clearer.
"I'm not leaving you. And I'm not leaving my own house!" she retaliated.
"Go! Just go!" I shouted in a scary tone, even to me. Sharply, I turned back to face her as the words were spoken. I needed her to leave me for a while, so I could clear my head. Beginning to shake, I watched her stare incredulously at me; that look of hers hurt me. We locked eyes for a few more seconds, trying to read eachother (something we usually did so easily), before she suddenly reached out for her purse and she left.
I listened to her footsteps getting further away as she went downstairs, leaving me with my own thoughts of... hell, my mind was too messed up to know! As I stood there, rooted to the spot, images of Ben flooding into my mind, washing out any other thought I had. And I had just told Vicky to go to him... Well, shouted. Not knowing whether she really would go and help him, I just couldn't stand these thoughts I had! Picturing Ben doing things to her... things that only I should ever do... its scarring.
Becoming sick, literally, of being locked inside my head with only "possibilities" to think about, I had to get out. Get some fresh air. Or... get out of here altogether. I had to get back home anyways: Spence had phoned saying that we needed to get on with writing the album yesterday... I just didn't tell Vicky because I didn't want to ruin anything by telling her that.
Just go! Pack your stuff and leave! my mind kept nagging. You can't stay here! You can just call her later.
So I made for my room, or the room I had been staying in, to stuff all of my belongings into the bag I brought and get the hell out of the UK. Usually I liked the UK; it was fun touring here. Between gathering clothes and what not, I rang Zach to get the plane ready, and I ordered a cab to take me there.
Once everything had been gathered from around the house, including a random sweater I located in Vicky's room, I carried the case downstairs... only to meet her mom. Oh fuck. "Hello Brendon. Oh, are you leaving? I think Vicky just left a few minutes ago too. Is everything alright?" she asked with concern.
"Er, ye-yeah, everything's fine," I started. Come on Brendon, think of a convincing lie! "I have to go back home to work on our new album, and Vicky... she just went to get a few things I needed. I'll meet her on the way, because she said she'd go with me to the airport." Once I started speaking, I couldn't stop. Lies just poured out of my mom, but Vicky's mother slurped them up enthusiastically.
"Oh ok. It's been lovely to meet you Brendon. You should come again some time," she offered kindly.
"Yeah, Thankyou for letting me stay. I'll come again," I said as a reflex: I may not be back to visit...
Waving her off and smiling as naturally as possible, I unlocked the front door and wheeled my bag along behind me. I stood impatiently outside the grand house, waiting for that damn cab to pick me up, while tapping my foot on the floor. Finally the black cab arrived, and so I thrust my bag in the car, ungracefully got in next to it and called "Heathrow Airport please", and we were off, but not before I saw Vicky come home from wherever she had been, a hint of a smile toying around her lips.
As soon as she saw the cab leave though, her face turned to a solemn, upset expression, and that's the last thing I saw of her. The cab driver drove on, picking up speed, and I couldn't stop myself from turning my head back to look at her. Part of me was upset to leave like this, but then there was the other half of me thinking Why the fuck was she smiling? We had just had an argument!
That thought lingered in my mind the longest, so for the entire ride to the airport, I was engulfed in thinking about exactly what she might have done or where she went in that time. She rung me once, probably to ask where I was going or something, but I ignored it. I just let it ring because I liked my ringtone: Atreyu's "The Theft". A few minutes after, I got a voice mail message; I didn't bother to listen to it though: I didn't want to right now.
Paying the driver, I climbed out of the cab and entered the building. Zach had phoned again telling me to go to the Departures Lounge as discretely as possible and then tell a member of staff who I was. Great, I love telling people that I'm in a famous band... Well, anything to get me home.
Within a matter of 20 minutes, I had boarded the band's private jet again. It felt strange: last time I was on this plane heading to America, I was with Vicky.
I was still pretty damn raging inside, so I plugged my headphones into my ears and the beautiful, depressing, heavy sounds of H.I.M. played; I turned up the volume on my iPod. I know, I know, everyone has one, but I still like them. Resting my head back on the head rest, closing my eyes, I enjoyed the blissful peace I achieved: I couldn't hear anything, or see for that matter, but I felt the plane move a while later, taking off. Now I was able to relax and forget about everything else in my life; simply allow the music overpower me.
All the same, I couldn't help but feel that the songs I listened to were relevant to me right now. I would push the pictures of Vicky I had out of my head; the thoughts of her beautiful face... her gorgeous hair: shoulder length, deep brown, highlighted... those eyes, those soft, brown eyes... What the fuck am I doing?! I love Vicky, and I'm on a fucking plane leaving her behind and I didn't even tell her! I must be fucking mental! I'm going to lose the one person I truly love...
I breathed quickly, rasping. Banging my head against the large chair, I wanted to scream at myself! How could I be so stupid and immature as to do something like this?! Am I 8?! No, I'M 19 YEARS OLD! VICKY is younger than me!
I felt an urge to punch something, inflict pain on myself for my idiocy. But I couldn't exactly punch something, could I? I was on an aeroplane. Instead, I viciously got up and marched into another room: one with a drum kit. Centring all of my anger, I hit those drums as angrily as I could muster in my weak state. It felt good. Until I ended up making one topple over from the force. Huffing, I got up to stand it upright, but I had managed to make a hole in the skin! Fantastic: I broke Spence's drum. How? I have no idea...
Slowly dragging myself back into the main room, I sunk into a seat once again, reaching for my Sidekick, turning it on (I had to switch it off for take off). Pausing for a moment, I stared at the screen: 1 new voice mail. I listened to the message, presuming it was from Vicky, and I was right.
"Hey, Brendon. Look, I'm so sorry about what happened. Just, please, don't go... We can sort this out..." Vicky's soothing voice was hurt, disjointed, as if she had been crying... a lot. Something we have in common then... She paused for a few seconds before continuing. "And just so you know, I didn't go to see Ben... Please call me..."
Stuffing my headphones back in and putting on Sufjan Stevens: 'For the Widows in Paradise, For the Fatherless in Ypsilanti', my lips quivered and my heart sank even further.
What is there to answer if I'm the only one?
I was dressed embarrassment,
I was dressed in wine
I now let tears roll down from my eyes, over my cheeks, splashing onto my jeans. Blinking, trying to stop them coming so quickly, I couldn't stop them. I felt like a mess; I was a stupid, dumb, ignorant, dishevelled mess. God, did I hate this feeling...
If there's anything to say, if there's anything to do
If there's any other way, I'll do anything for you
I'll do anything for you; I'll do anything for you
I'll do anything for you; I'll do anything for you
I did everything for you; I did everything for you
I did everything for you; I did everything for you
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I tried sleeping throughout the rest of the journey, but either I was too awake, or my dreams haunted me so much I'd wake up suddenly in a cold sweat. I picked out all of the depressing songs I had and played them all on a loop, over and over again. I miss her! I miss Vicky! Why am I such an ass?! So, she has a friend who is a guy. Big deal! You have girl friends, just like she has boy friends. Why am I so jealous of that guy?! Well, I have good reason to be now that I just left her...
Hours later of this torture, the plane landed and I got a cab home. All of the guys' cars were there. Why won't anything go right today?! I didn't want to see them, talk to them, anything. Since I had to switch off my Sidekick again after listening to the message on the plane, when I turned it back on, I saw a missed call from Ryan, Spence AND Jon. No doubt Vicky phoned them and told them what happened...
I breathed deeply, stepping into the melting afternoon sun of Las Vegas, trundling my case to the house as the cab drove off. Stopping as I reached the door though, I thought of what I could do now. What could I do to get away from everything else for a while?!
And then I remembered that Ryan kept his keys really close to the door. Lord knows why, but he did. So, I could run in, drop my case and grab his keys! His Mercedes was way faster than my freakish bean thing; he had a damn nice car. He wouldn't mind; he lets me borrow it all the time!
Hurriedly, I opened the door, threw my keys on the table next to the door along with my case and grabbed at Ryan's keys. Excellent, mission accomplished. Yeah, except that they were ALL in the living room, playing Guitar Hero, so they ALL saw me.
"Brendon! You're here! Why the hell did you come back?!" Spence started, since he wasn't playing at the time. The other 2 both abandoned their game and looked over at me. I stood for a second, contemplating whether to just go or to talk to them, because they were my best friends.
"I'll be back soon," I quickly said, turning around and shutting the door as I left. I hopped into Ryan's car, turned on the ignition and backed out of the driveway with speed and power. Before I drove off entirely, I saw Ryan run out of the house, seemingly towards my car, and then the other two appeared in the doorway, dashing to their own cars. I didn't care really: I had the fastest car, and I could get away easily. Can they not understand when I want to be alone?!
Once I had reached the main roads, it was straight and simple from there. There wasn't much traffic, and the sun was set high in the sky, so it didn't affect my vision. I had my glasses on today.
I was reaching speeds I had never attempted before, zooming so quickly down the never-ending road at 120mph. Every car I came across moved out of my way, driving in the 1st lane to avoid some major collision. While I drove aimlessly, but purposefully, it felt amazing to drive so speedily; it was exhilarating; new; exciting. I must have passed a couple of red lights just as they changed from green to red; when other cars slowed down, I would speed up and continue, not wanting this to stop. It kept my mind off Vicky, sort of. I really would do anything for that girl. She was so... unbelievably amazing. Way more beautiful, sweet, funny than Michelle. Vicky out-ran that bitch every time.
Looking out of my mirrors, I vaguely saw a large purple car right on the other end of this road. Dear god, they're following me?! I wasn't afraid of them, because it was impossible for them to actually catch up with me. My phone started ringing, and I answered it since Ryan had a Bluetooth-connected hands-free system in his car, and so it registered my Sidekick.
"Hello?" I asked dully, yet full of enthusiasm.
"Brendon, stop the car, this is mental!" Ryan said, exasperated.
"For god's sakes Ryan, leave me alone! I don't want to talk to anyone right now! Ok?"
"Brendon, you could seriously hurt yourself! Why are you doing this?!" he screamed at me.
"You wouldn't understand, Ross," I said, bored of this conversation.
"No, I think I do. You feel like an ass for leaving Vicky like that, and so you're doing... this. It isn't going to help Brendon! Just... just stop the car and we can sort all of this out!"
I was becoming hysterical now, drowning in my self pity, lost without the love of my life who I only met... 1 1/2 weeks ago! "How can I sort this out?! She won't give a damn about me after this! She deserves better than a bastard like me!" and before Ryan could say anymore, I hung up the phone, so angry, so frustrated with myself, so hurt. I had lost Vicky, now I had just screamed at my best friend for trying to help me.
I wasn't concentrating much on the road as I thought about everything, my phone ringing once again. I felt dizzy. I felt sick. Lovesick? Maybe... No, I feel really sick... I zoned out for a second, but regained my composure and realigned Ryan's car on the road, driving at a slightly slower speed, but still far too fast. It's a miracle that there were no police passing by. My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly; my palms were sweaty; my knuckles were turning pale.
Another intersection was approaching, and the green light I saw was all I needed to make me continue at this ridiculous speed. But as I got a little nearer, the light changed to amber... and red... Fuck!!
Slamming my foot on the brakes, I hoped I stopped in time. I wasn't trying to kill myself! I just wanted a thrill. I slowed down immensely, but I was still moving damn fast. And then, I reached the lights... and drove past them, with traffic coming from both other directions. Not many cars, but enough. I was terrified. Cars were swerving in all sorts of directions as I slowed down, and thankfully none of them managed to hit me.
I put my foot back on the accelerator, trying to get out of the fucking way, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw this car coming towards me. Trying to stop, he was wishing on fate since there were cars to his left and right; he couldn't go anywhere. It was like everything was in slow motion: I stared, scared witless, wide-eyed at this car heading right at me from my left. But then time escaped me as it smashed right into the side of Ryan's car. The last thing I remember? Praying that Vicky would forgive me for all of this...
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Why doesn't she change her ring tone?! Vicky's phone was ringing and so she got up from the bed to answer it as I paused the episode. I wondered who had phoned her, since she didn't sound too happy, so I asked and she mouthed "Ben" back to me. Great, that jackass is back. Wait, I said I wouldn't be jealous... But I'm not jealous; I just don't trust him.
Her look of concern and worry scared me slightly, so once she had hung up, muttering something I couldn't quite make out, I questioned, "What did he want?"
"Erm, he's had some problems with his parents. Well, a drunken father hitting him and his mom."
That shook me. I had no idea what that was like, but I had been best friends with Ryan when his dad did all that shit, and empathising is more than I can really handle. I always felt for those kids who have had to go through that, but then again, I was thrown out by my parents... "God, is he ok? I've had enough experience with this kind of thing." After hearing the "joke" and seeing Vicky's slightly alarmed face, I wanted to kick myself. "Sorry, bad joke."
Thankfully, she understood. Well, she always has! "It's ok. Would it be alright if I go and see him then?" she popped a question quietly but calmly.
Jealousy and anger coursing racing through me, I was getting hotter; my forehead was burning up a little. "What?" I asked her in a cautious tone.
"He just wants someone to talk to..." she continued, keeping her voice as level as she could, but it didn't change how I felt. She's my girlfriend! Why is he so attached to her!?
"And he phoned you for that? Couldn't phone anyone else, could he?" Perhaps I was being over the top, but I couldn't see that. All I saw was him trying to take advantage of her. How was I supposed to just let her go to him with those kinds of thoughts going through my head?!
"Ben probably didn't feel like he could talk to anyone else. Are you still jealous of him? I thought we sorted this out!" she was starting to get annoyed now too, but I still stuck to my selfish attitude. I'm not perfect.
"I wouldn't have a problem if my girlfriend didn't go running to Ben as soon as he clicks his fucking fingers!" I didn't like that guy, if you hadn't noticed.
"Why can't you see how much I love you?! Because I do!" she cried at me. I was feeling uncomfortable now, not just angry.
"It's not about love" I said more softly now.
"No, it's about trust; you don't trust me," she said forcefully, venomously.
"Of course I trust you! I love you!" I tried to tell her. It was the truth.
"Love isn't everything! Just because you love me, doesn't mean you trust me!" Her words were hitting me hard, but it just made me angrier. For god sakes, I love that girl, and I trust her, but can she see that? No. So how is that my problem?
"Just go and see him," I told her simply, turning away from her. I couldn't look at her right now, and I just wanted some time to calm down. Then I could talk to her rationally.
"What? What do you mean?" she asked a little stupidly.
"I mean, you go and see Ben. I'll stay here," I repeated, trying to make it clearer.
"I'm not leaving you. And I'm not leaving my own house!" she retaliated.
"Go! Just go!" I shouted in a scary tone, even to me. Sharply, I turned back to face her as the words were spoken. I needed her to leave me for a while, so I could clear my head. Beginning to shake, I watched her stare incredulously at me; that look of hers hurt me. We locked eyes for a few more seconds, trying to read eachother (something we usually did so easily), before she suddenly reached out for her purse and she left.
I listened to her footsteps getting further away as she went downstairs, leaving me with my own thoughts of... hell, my mind was too messed up to know! As I stood there, rooted to the spot, images of Ben flooding into my mind, washing out any other thought I had. And I had just told Vicky to go to him... Well, shouted. Not knowing whether she really would go and help him, I just couldn't stand these thoughts I had! Picturing Ben doing things to her... things that only I should ever do... its scarring.
Becoming sick, literally, of being locked inside my head with only "possibilities" to think about, I had to get out. Get some fresh air. Or... get out of here altogether. I had to get back home anyways: Spence had phoned saying that we needed to get on with writing the album yesterday... I just didn't tell Vicky because I didn't want to ruin anything by telling her that.
Just go! Pack your stuff and leave! my mind kept nagging. You can't stay here! You can just call her later.
So I made for my room, or the room I had been staying in, to stuff all of my belongings into the bag I brought and get the hell out of the UK. Usually I liked the UK; it was fun touring here. Between gathering clothes and what not, I rang Zach to get the plane ready, and I ordered a cab to take me there.
Once everything had been gathered from around the house, including a random sweater I located in Vicky's room, I carried the case downstairs... only to meet her mom. Oh fuck. "Hello Brendon. Oh, are you leaving? I think Vicky just left a few minutes ago too. Is everything alright?" she asked with concern.
"Er, ye-yeah, everything's fine," I started. Come on Brendon, think of a convincing lie! "I have to go back home to work on our new album, and Vicky... she just went to get a few things I needed. I'll meet her on the way, because she said she'd go with me to the airport." Once I started speaking, I couldn't stop. Lies just poured out of my mom, but Vicky's mother slurped them up enthusiastically.
"Oh ok. It's been lovely to meet you Brendon. You should come again some time," she offered kindly.
"Yeah, Thankyou for letting me stay. I'll come again," I said as a reflex: I may not be back to visit...
Waving her off and smiling as naturally as possible, I unlocked the front door and wheeled my bag along behind me. I stood impatiently outside the grand house, waiting for that damn cab to pick me up, while tapping my foot on the floor. Finally the black cab arrived, and so I thrust my bag in the car, ungracefully got in next to it and called "Heathrow Airport please", and we were off, but not before I saw Vicky come home from wherever she had been, a hint of a smile toying around her lips.
As soon as she saw the cab leave though, her face turned to a solemn, upset expression, and that's the last thing I saw of her. The cab driver drove on, picking up speed, and I couldn't stop myself from turning my head back to look at her. Part of me was upset to leave like this, but then there was the other half of me thinking Why the fuck was she smiling? We had just had an argument!
That thought lingered in my mind the longest, so for the entire ride to the airport, I was engulfed in thinking about exactly what she might have done or where she went in that time. She rung me once, probably to ask where I was going or something, but I ignored it. I just let it ring because I liked my ringtone: Atreyu's "The Theft". A few minutes after, I got a voice mail message; I didn't bother to listen to it though: I didn't want to right now.
Paying the driver, I climbed out of the cab and entered the building. Zach had phoned again telling me to go to the Departures Lounge as discretely as possible and then tell a member of staff who I was. Great, I love telling people that I'm in a famous band... Well, anything to get me home.
Within a matter of 20 minutes, I had boarded the band's private jet again. It felt strange: last time I was on this plane heading to America, I was with Vicky.
I was still pretty damn raging inside, so I plugged my headphones into my ears and the beautiful, depressing, heavy sounds of H.I.M. played; I turned up the volume on my iPod. I know, I know, everyone has one, but I still like them. Resting my head back on the head rest, closing my eyes, I enjoyed the blissful peace I achieved: I couldn't hear anything, or see for that matter, but I felt the plane move a while later, taking off. Now I was able to relax and forget about everything else in my life; simply allow the music overpower me.
All the same, I couldn't help but feel that the songs I listened to were relevant to me right now. I would push the pictures of Vicky I had out of my head; the thoughts of her beautiful face... her gorgeous hair: shoulder length, deep brown, highlighted... those eyes, those soft, brown eyes... What the fuck am I doing?! I love Vicky, and I'm on a fucking plane leaving her behind and I didn't even tell her! I must be fucking mental! I'm going to lose the one person I truly love...
I breathed quickly, rasping. Banging my head against the large chair, I wanted to scream at myself! How could I be so stupid and immature as to do something like this?! Am I 8?! No, I'M 19 YEARS OLD! VICKY is younger than me!
I felt an urge to punch something, inflict pain on myself for my idiocy. But I couldn't exactly punch something, could I? I was on an aeroplane. Instead, I viciously got up and marched into another room: one with a drum kit. Centring all of my anger, I hit those drums as angrily as I could muster in my weak state. It felt good. Until I ended up making one topple over from the force. Huffing, I got up to stand it upright, but I had managed to make a hole in the skin! Fantastic: I broke Spence's drum. How? I have no idea...
Slowly dragging myself back into the main room, I sunk into a seat once again, reaching for my Sidekick, turning it on (I had to switch it off for take off). Pausing for a moment, I stared at the screen: 1 new voice mail. I listened to the message, presuming it was from Vicky, and I was right.
"Hey, Brendon. Look, I'm so sorry about what happened. Just, please, don't go... We can sort this out..." Vicky's soothing voice was hurt, disjointed, as if she had been crying... a lot. Something we have in common then... She paused for a few seconds before continuing. "And just so you know, I didn't go to see Ben... Please call me..."
Stuffing my headphones back in and putting on Sufjan Stevens: 'For the Widows in Paradise, For the Fatherless in Ypsilanti', my lips quivered and my heart sank even further.
What is there to answer if I'm the only one?
I was dressed embarrassment,
I was dressed in wine
I now let tears roll down from my eyes, over my cheeks, splashing onto my jeans. Blinking, trying to stop them coming so quickly, I couldn't stop them. I felt like a mess; I was a stupid, dumb, ignorant, dishevelled mess. God, did I hate this feeling...
If there's anything to say, if there's anything to do
If there's any other way, I'll do anything for you
I'll do anything for you; I'll do anything for you
I'll do anything for you; I'll do anything for you
I did everything for you; I did everything for you
I did everything for you; I did everything for you
------------------------------
I tried sleeping throughout the rest of the journey, but either I was too awake, or my dreams haunted me so much I'd wake up suddenly in a cold sweat. I picked out all of the depressing songs I had and played them all on a loop, over and over again. I miss her! I miss Vicky! Why am I such an ass?! So, she has a friend who is a guy. Big deal! You have girl friends, just like she has boy friends. Why am I so jealous of that guy?! Well, I have good reason to be now that I just left her...
Hours later of this torture, the plane landed and I got a cab home. All of the guys' cars were there. Why won't anything go right today?! I didn't want to see them, talk to them, anything. Since I had to switch off my Sidekick again after listening to the message on the plane, when I turned it back on, I saw a missed call from Ryan, Spence AND Jon. No doubt Vicky phoned them and told them what happened...
I breathed deeply, stepping into the melting afternoon sun of Las Vegas, trundling my case to the house as the cab drove off. Stopping as I reached the door though, I thought of what I could do now. What could I do to get away from everything else for a while?!
And then I remembered that Ryan kept his keys really close to the door. Lord knows why, but he did. So, I could run in, drop my case and grab his keys! His Mercedes was way faster than my freakish bean thing; he had a damn nice car. He wouldn't mind; he lets me borrow it all the time!
Hurriedly, I opened the door, threw my keys on the table next to the door along with my case and grabbed at Ryan's keys. Excellent, mission accomplished. Yeah, except that they were ALL in the living room, playing Guitar Hero, so they ALL saw me.
"Brendon! You're here! Why the hell did you come back?!" Spence started, since he wasn't playing at the time. The other 2 both abandoned their game and looked over at me. I stood for a second, contemplating whether to just go or to talk to them, because they were my best friends.
"I'll be back soon," I quickly said, turning around and shutting the door as I left. I hopped into Ryan's car, turned on the ignition and backed out of the driveway with speed and power. Before I drove off entirely, I saw Ryan run out of the house, seemingly towards my car, and then the other two appeared in the doorway, dashing to their own cars. I didn't care really: I had the fastest car, and I could get away easily. Can they not understand when I want to be alone?!
Once I had reached the main roads, it was straight and simple from there. There wasn't much traffic, and the sun was set high in the sky, so it didn't affect my vision. I had my glasses on today.
I was reaching speeds I had never attempted before, zooming so quickly down the never-ending road at 120mph. Every car I came across moved out of my way, driving in the 1st lane to avoid some major collision. While I drove aimlessly, but purposefully, it felt amazing to drive so speedily; it was exhilarating; new; exciting. I must have passed a couple of red lights just as they changed from green to red; when other cars slowed down, I would speed up and continue, not wanting this to stop. It kept my mind off Vicky, sort of. I really would do anything for that girl. She was so... unbelievably amazing. Way more beautiful, sweet, funny than Michelle. Vicky out-ran that bitch every time.
Looking out of my mirrors, I vaguely saw a large purple car right on the other end of this road. Dear god, they're following me?! I wasn't afraid of them, because it was impossible for them to actually catch up with me. My phone started ringing, and I answered it since Ryan had a Bluetooth-connected hands-free system in his car, and so it registered my Sidekick.
"Hello?" I asked dully, yet full of enthusiasm.
"Brendon, stop the car, this is mental!" Ryan said, exasperated.
"For god's sakes Ryan, leave me alone! I don't want to talk to anyone right now! Ok?"
"Brendon, you could seriously hurt yourself! Why are you doing this?!" he screamed at me.
"You wouldn't understand, Ross," I said, bored of this conversation.
"No, I think I do. You feel like an ass for leaving Vicky like that, and so you're doing... this. It isn't going to help Brendon! Just... just stop the car and we can sort all of this out!"
I was becoming hysterical now, drowning in my self pity, lost without the love of my life who I only met... 1 1/2 weeks ago! "How can I sort this out?! She won't give a damn about me after this! She deserves better than a bastard like me!" and before Ryan could say anymore, I hung up the phone, so angry, so frustrated with myself, so hurt. I had lost Vicky, now I had just screamed at my best friend for trying to help me.
I wasn't concentrating much on the road as I thought about everything, my phone ringing once again. I felt dizzy. I felt sick. Lovesick? Maybe... No, I feel really sick... I zoned out for a second, but regained my composure and realigned Ryan's car on the road, driving at a slightly slower speed, but still far too fast. It's a miracle that there were no police passing by. My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly; my palms were sweaty; my knuckles were turning pale.
Another intersection was approaching, and the green light I saw was all I needed to make me continue at this ridiculous speed. But as I got a little nearer, the light changed to amber... and red... Fuck!!
Slamming my foot on the brakes, I hoped I stopped in time. I wasn't trying to kill myself! I just wanted a thrill. I slowed down immensely, but I was still moving damn fast. And then, I reached the lights... and drove past them, with traffic coming from both other directions. Not many cars, but enough. I was terrified. Cars were swerving in all sorts of directions as I slowed down, and thankfully none of them managed to hit me.
I put my foot back on the accelerator, trying to get out of the fucking way, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw this car coming towards me. Trying to stop, he was wishing on fate since there were cars to his left and right; he couldn't go anywhere. It was like everything was in slow motion: I stared, scared witless, wide-eyed at this car heading right at me from my left. But then time escaped me as it smashed right into the side of Ryan's car. The last thing I remember? Praying that Vicky would forgive me for all of this...
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