FicWad

A perfectly pressed dress was hanging silently in the closet, make-up bags were spilled across the dresser and the bathroom was honestly, 15 degrees warmer on account of the array of styling tools heating up on the counter, but as a male, all Patrick needed was a shower and his girlfriends assistance in constructing a perfectly matching outfit. Once his simplistic award show ritual was completed, he found her standing in the bathroom in her underwear with a curling iron in her hand.

“Why did you even bring clothing?” Leaning against the bathroom door frame, he watched her contently as he waited for his band mates to request his presence. With her tongue sticking out between her lips, she concentrated hard on the task at hand, on executing the perfect styling technique and he couldn’t help but laugh as he watcher her. “I haven’t seen you in anything more than underwear all weekend long.”

“And I haven't heard you complaining about it!” Ana retorted, playfully slapping his arms before her lips were pressed to his, a good-bye and good-luck kiss of sorts, “Don’t screw up, don’t forget to thank me and most importantly, don’t do or say anything stupid!”

Patrick flashed an innocent, cheeky smile at his girlfriends encouraging words as her best friend came bounding through the door with a duffel bag slung over her shoulder and articles of clothing draped over both of her arms, “I’m having a minor crisis!”

Fidgeting with the hat on his head, Patrick took this as his cue to exit the room, anything besides watching Pete apply and then reapply more eyeliner had to be more manly than having to experience the crisis management that was about to happen; so with one last peck to Ana’s lips, he was out the door.

Janelle sighed dramatically, spreading her outfit out carefully onto the bed and then following it up with an array of lingerie. “How much cleavage should I show and what underwear says I know we basically just met, but I think you’re great and I would really like to sleep with you?”

It would be a lie for Ana to not laugh in her best friends face, so she tried her hardest to hold it back, but that’s not saying that her hardest was good enough. “I think that trying to make a move on him would be much more effective than relying on how slutty you look under your dress.”

“I know, but I want to look cute when the clothes come off!” Janelle was whining, but her whining was almost forgotten once she was immediately scoffing at Ana’s current choice of undergarments, “Please don’t tell me you’re wearing those?”

Ana shrugged nonchalantly, immediately changing the subject to a more important matter that did not involve her panties, “So you think he’s great?”

“Well, yeah … maybe, I don’t know.” Janelle sighed in frustration, “But we’re not talking about this right now, I can figure out how I feel once I know how it feels in the bedroom, so which underwear---“

Ana interrupted with a laugh, “Screams that you’re a dirty slut?”

“Basically”

Chewing lightly on her bottom lip for a moment, she was highly amused by the situation so she played along, giving it some momentary deep though before shrugging off her suggestion, “No underwear at all.”

“Wrong!” Janelle shook her head before snatching a red lace thong off of the bed, “I choose these with no help from you best friend, thanks a lot!”

Ana shrugged again without a care before shuffling back off to the bathroom as soon as Janelle made a b-line for the suitcases spread across the floor. She was intently twisting a long strand of hair around the hot metal barrel when Janelle came bouncing into the bathroom with more lingerie in hand. “What says why hello Mr. pop-rock superstar, you just won a moon man, won’t you please put it in me?”

Ana smirked at the mirror, “No underwear at all?”

“Funny, skank.” Janelle laughed, her smile soon fading from her lips, now pursed together with concern, “Is something wrong? You’ve seemed a little bummed out all day.”

Ana tried to shrug the question off, but the sadness in her eyes and the forced smile she placed upon her lips gave it away; there was always something wrong and Janelle could always see it. “We set a date ...”

Before Ana could finish her sentence Janelle was shrieking with excitement, stopping suddenly once she realized Ana was not nearly as excited. “…but?”

“I don’t think I’m ready, I don’t think I’m ever going to be ready.”

With the sound of Ana’s sad sigh echoing through the bathroom, Janelle immediately understood what Ana was going through; she was head over heels in love with Patrick, that much was painfully obvious, but there was just something holding her back, something not even Janelle could pinpoint.

“You have to tell him”

“I know, I will; just not tonight.” Inhaling several deep, refreshing breaths, Ana sighed out her frustration before Janelle was throwing her underwear at her head, resulting in a high pitched insulted shriek.

“Just because you don’t want to be married doesn’t mean you don’t want to get freaky, so lets get cute!” Ana could do nothing but shake her head in amusement as her best friend scampered off to dress for the occasion.

Gabe was the first to notice it, before Janelle, before Patrick and maybe before Ana even noticed it in herself, but she was down and out and in desperate need of a pick me up to lighten the mood. Successfully coming up with a plan, Gabe and Travis had bought her some drinks, forcing her to dance, liquoring her up, allowing her to numb and laugh away whatever was causing that sadness in her eyes; if nothing else, at least for tonight.

With an adorable little smirk playing on his lips, Patrick shot a wink in her direction as his fingers worked almost subconsciously against the strings to end the song, and her knees immediately felt weak. It could have been that feeling he caused inside of her since they were middle schoolers, or the liquor flowing through her body, but at that very moment, with a simple look in her direction, all of her cares had momentarily vanished and her immediately increasing heart rate and radiant toothy grin were a sure fire sign of happiness.

“I told you baby girl, don’t sweat the small stuff until the time comes to sweat it out.” Travis stole a sip of her drink before squirming through the crowd, trotting off towards the stage.

The suite was bursting at the seams by the time they had finished their set and accepted their award, and the party was finally really starting to get exciting by the time Patrick took the stage again with Travis at his side.

“I can’t wait to take my clothes off to have a good time.” Janelle joked loudly over the music, just loud enough for Ana’s ears to hear.

“You’re such a little slut” Ana laughed cheerfully; Janelle was relieved to see that smile again.

Before the song had ended the crowd was now a few steps above rowdy, but all Patrick could see was Ana, laughing and dancing with two of her best friends and he was beyond relieved to see her smile. Immediately he needed to be near her, to feel her close to him and the feeling had quickly become overwhelming; so overwhelming that when the song had finally ended he had nearly bolted from the stage, shuffling through the crowd desperate to feel her next to him.

Snaking his arms around her waist, he had barely given her enough time to register his presence before his lips had met hers.

“Well hello to you too, “ Ana chuckled when her lips were finally free, “And congratulations to you too.”

“You can congratulate me later” Patrick smirked with a wink and Janelle was immediately slapping her self high five.

“Good thing I picked out the cute panties!”

Ana glared in Janelle’s direction but couldn’t do anything but smile as she watched Gabe reach out and lace his fingers with the fingers of her very best friend. Janelle fidgeted nervously, with a bright smile on her face, suggesting the best idea Ana had heard all night, “lets get some drinks!”

It was an offer Patrick would immediately have to decline, “I can’t right now, I still have press to do, but definitely when I get back!”

Janelle nodded in understanding, but Ana frowned involuntarily and Janelle was the only person who could see the sadness return to her eyes and she immediately understood what it was that held Ana back from that eternal commitment. Who wants a commitment to a lifetime of press conferences, long-distance phone calls, empty beds and airport terminal goodbyes?

“You know” Ana forced a smile and tried to yawn off an excuse, “I’m actually sort of tired, so I think I’m just going to go back to the room; I’ll wait for you to get back?”

“Alright” Patrick agreed, “but I’ve got to head out so I’ll see you later”, and with a quick kiss to Ana’s lips he was gone, disappearing into the abyss of the growing crowd.

“Want me to come with you?” Janelle was a great friend and immediately came to Ana’s assistance under every circumstance, but Ana wasn’t bringing down everyone around her; so with a shake her head she bid Janelle and Gabe a premature farewell.

An upside to leaving the party early meant that she could make it back to the room with enough time to pull her emotions together before Patrick would return, but as the metal doors of the elevator opened with a ding, her plans had changed. With curious, confused eyes, her feet involuntarily took the three steps forward, moving her body into the nearly desolate, metal elevator, her eyes silently locked on his face.

“Why are you back already?” The silence was broken by her voice, cracking sadly, but not nearly as desperately as the look on his face, or the look in his eyes, that look that was continuing to make her knees go weak.

“I don’t have to be there; they don’t need me like I need you.”

Or maybe it was those words that had made her knees give in or the feeling of his lips pressing hard against hers; either way, she had never been more thankful for his arms around her waist, holding her up from falling to the floor. After the stressful and busy day he had endured, Patrick didn’t need more excitement or attention; all he needed was attention from Ana, the feeling of her near him, that feeling making him feel whole.

"They are cute panties" Patrick laughed, mumbling almost incoherently against her lips as he pushed the fabric down over her hips, the attempt at words immediately drowned out by deep groans when Ana groped shamelessly at the appendage between his legs.

Maybe it was the passion that made her forget her troubles, or the way he touched her like it was the last meaningful thing he would ever do in his life, the way he loved her without regret, that made her remember why she agreed to forever in the first place.

But bliss and happiness are not eternal feelings, they’re momentary and painful once they’re gone; and soon enough 7:30 the next morning had arrived and Patrick was forced to shake her peaceful body from slumber. Ana hoped to wake up with the same blissful feeling from the night before, tangled in the sheets and the comfort of Patrick’s embrace, but when he woke her abruptly, her eyes shot open to find him fully dressed with packed bags waiting at the door.

In less than 2 hours his flight would leave for New York and although she was so peaceful and happy in her sleep, he needed to wake her, he needed to say goodbye, no matter how much it hurt. After so long, words like “I’m going to miss you” lose their initial meaning and impact, now becoming just enough reflexive response to normal, daily conversation; but regardless, Ana nodded her head in agreement.

There were barely any words for her to say at this moment that weren’t “don’t go” or “I don’t want to go home without you”, so she opted for silence, hoping that she would hold herself together long enough to watch him go.

“I’ll be home sometime next week”

Again, the promise of a return was empty and meaningless, his return would be temporary and it wasn’t worth getting her hopes up so she could only nodded silently, lifting her head gently from the pillow to close the space between their lips. In his lifetime, Patrick would never experience a more painful kiss and in her lifetime, Ana would never again let herself fall into such a desperate situation.

Ana could only smile softly at him as he pulled his bags out the door, shutting it quietly behind him and soon the soft rays of sunlight were streaming through the window, bringing light into the room, spreading it warmly across the bed in which she still lay, staring up at the ceiling with a heavy heart. Once the door had shut, she was ready to cry it away, but the tears never came, no matter how ready she was. Maybe crying away the agony can’t always be our escape from the things we fear the most.