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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jul 4, 2005 21:55:47 GMT -5
Part 9 TRE’S POINT OF VIEW “Sorry about that,” Lydia slurred as she stumbled onto the sidewalk. “Don’t be. You just got us free meals and two free bottles of champagne,” I laughed. “I did?” she asked, looking very confused, as if she was beginning to come out of her drunken state. “Yup,” I said. “They told me not to worry about the check.” “Cool,” she giggled. “God, I am so drunk.” “Yeah, you are,” I agreed. “Let’s get you home.”
LYDIA’S POINT OF VIEW “What happened?” I woke up the next morning on my couch, in the same black dress I had gone on my date with Tre in the night before. My shoes were on the floor next to me, the lights all still on. I felt like hell. Hangovers sucked. I stumbled off the couch and into the bathroom, where I looked at my reflection. I didn’t look too bad, with the exception of a few eyeliner smudges across my cheeks. I tucked my hair behind my ears and grabbed my toothbrush. The taste of booze still lay on my tongue. I squeezed half the tube of toothpaste onto the brush and shoved it into my mouth, trying to recall the happenings of the previous evening. After brushing my teeth, I wandered into the kitchen, where a note lay on the table. I arched my eyebrow at it, then lifted it and began to read. Dear Lydia, You passed out in the car on the way home, and I just dropped you off. I figured I’d write you a note, although now that I’m writing it, I have no idea what to say. Well, you sure make an interesting date, and I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go somewhere again. Only not that restaurant, and this time with less champagne, okay? I’ll call you later. Bye. ~Tre I stared at the paper. Well, whatever happened, it seemed to work in my favor. I ran my fingers through my hair, then set the note down. I headed into the bathroom and decided to take a shower. I had just stepped out of the shower as the phone began to ring. I rushed into the living room and grabbed it, ignoring the fact that I was dripping all over the floor. “Hello?” “Hey!” Tre said into the other end, sounding rather perky. “How are you?” “Wet,” I said. “What?” he asked, his perverted mind already jumping to conclusions. “I just took a shower,” I informed him. “Sure,” he said, sounding as if he didn’t believe me. “What happened last night?” I questioned, walking over toward the window that overlooked a small lake outside my apartment. “Well, you got drunk and started singing songs by the Used. And then you spit on some bitch and got us kicked out.” “Really?” I said, not quite sure I believed him. “Yeah,” he laughed. “It was hilarious.” “Wait, seriously?” I asked. “Yeah,” he said. “Oh my God,” I laughed, opening the sliding glass doors and stepping onto the balcony. I leaned on the railing and looked out at the lake and the apartments that faced it. I glanced over to my left at the balcony of the people next door. An old Irish man lived there, and he was staring at me as he watered his plants, his mouth wide open. Why was he staring at me like that? I then looked down and realized that I was still naked. “Holy shit!” I almost screamed, leaping inside the house and shutting the door. “What?” Tre asked. “I just walked onto the balcony, totally nude.” “And I missed it?” he laughed. “The old pervert next door was staring at me,” I said, although I knew the guy wasn’t a pervert. I would be staring in shock if one of my naked neighbors just wandered onto the balcony. “Sorry to hear that,” Tre laughed. “You never seem to have a boring moment, do you?” “I do,” I sighed. “Just not recently.”
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jul 4, 2005 22:18:38 GMT -5
Part 10 It was about half an hour after Tre and I scheduled our next date that the phone rang again. This time I glanced at the caller ID. It was Jeff. At first I was going to ignore it, pretend I wasn’t home, but then I started to wonder if maybe it was important. That’s the problem with me; I get too guilty. I finally lifted the phone. “Hello?” I said, acting like I had no idea who was on the other end. “Lydia? We got it.” “Got what?” I asked, putting on my best I-don’t-care-about-you-or-anything-you-have-to-say voice. “A recording contract.” “No way!” I said, totally forgetting the act I was putting on. “Really?” “Yeah,” Jeff laughed. “We’re going to start recording in a couple of weeks.” “That’s great,” I said. “Congradulations.” “Thanks,” he sighed. “Yeah, we’ve already decided which songs we’re going to record and what we’re going to name the album and stuff.” “You’re ahead of the game,” I giggled, throwing myself on the couch. “There’s just one song we haven’t decided if we’re going to record or not. I was hoping maybe you could give me the final verdict on it,” he said. I knew all of their songs by heart. They were all pretty good, too. And there were about 30 of them. I had always offered the band my constructive criticism, so it almost seemed natural that he would consult me on this issue. “What song?” I asked. “Born to Be Loved.” There was a silence. He had written the song for me back when we first started dating, and whenever we would get into a fight he would call my apartment and perform it on my answering machine. In the end, I would always forgive him. He promised me that he would never sing that song for any other girl, and that if I ever left him, he’d never play it again. “You said you wouldn’t play it if we weren’t together,” I said, my throat beginning to fill with that about-to-cry feeling. “And that’s why I was wondering if you’d take me back.” There was another silence. “Jeff,” I whispered. “I…I can’t.” “Why not? Don’t tell me you don’t still love me. I couldn’t live if that were the case.” “You’re guilting me into coming back,” I said. “No, I’m not. Don’t think of it that way. If you don’t want to, just tell me why not,” he begged. “I have a date with someone else this Friday night,” I said, seeing as how that was the only explanation that came to mind. “Then go out with him. When the date’s done, come back to me. I don’t mind. Really, I don’t.” “But I like this guy. What if I decide I want to be in a relationship with him? I can’t do that because I’m stuck with you,” I sighed. “Then date him and I’ll call you the next day. You can tell me then. Please, don’t avoid me just because of this guy. Please.” It sounded as if he was getting choked up as well. “So you want me to tell you if I love him or not after our date?” But it was too late. Jeff had hung up. I stared at the phone for a second before putting it back down. This was getting too weird to be true.
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jul 4, 2005 22:34:55 GMT -5
Part 11 TRE’S POINT OF VIEW “What is it?” I asked, rushing into Billie’s house. My date with Lydia was in fifteen minutes, and Billie had called just before I left to meet her to tell me there was an emergency. “It’s Mike.” Billie was sitting on his couch, staring idly at the television. “What happened?” I rushed over to where Billie stood. “He’s locked himself in my bathroom and is refusing to come out,” he said, looking up at me. “Why?” I was starting to get pissed off. I was going to be late for my date, all because Mike was being stupid about something. “I have no idea,” Billie said. “But apparently he won’t talk to me. I was hoping you could help.” “What did you say to him?” Billie and Mike got into stupid fights all the time, most of which involved me becoming the middle man and talking to one of them through a closed door until they came out. “Nothing,” Billie said, holding up his hands. “We were talking about this song he wrote. It wasn’t all that incredible, and I told him so.” I rolled my eyes and rushed down the hallway to the bathroom. “Mike?” I called. “What?” he snapped. “I don’t have time to sort your differences with Billie, since Lydia and I have a date in…” I looked at my watch. “…ten minutes. So please, come out and apologize to Billie. You don’t have to mean it, just act like you do. Then you can go home and freak out about it tomorrow, when I have more time.” “I’m not apologizing. I’ve never told Billie that any of his songs were a piece of shit. I never said any of them were worthless and would never get us anywhere,” he groaned. “Um…” I was about to point out several instances where Mike had said things like that, but decided now was not the time. “Sorry.” “He’s got such a big ego these days. He thinks he’s so high and mighty because he’s the frontman. But you know what? Fuck that! You and I have opinions, too.” I could hear Mike shuffling around in the bathroom as he talked. “Can you wait just a second?” I asked. “I have to make a call.” “Take your fucking time,” Mike mumbled. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Lydia’s number. I got her machine, and was about to leave a message when I lost reception. “Damn,” I whispered, then shifted more towards the front door. I called again and began to leave a message. “Hey Lydia, it’s Tre.” It was then that I lost reception again. “Fuck it,” I murmured, shoving my cell phone back into my pocket. I’d call her once I resolved the problem. Hopefully she wouldn’t hate me.
LYDIA’S POINT OF VIEW “Where is he?” I asked, waiting in front of the restaurant I had told him to meet me at. It was dark outside, rather humid as well. A car drove by and honked at me. I ignored it, looking at my watch again. It was 7:30. He had promised he’d be there half an hour ago. “I’m giving him five minutes,” I whispered to myself, glancing up and down the street for his car. Of course, it was no where in sight. I was getting pissed. He had seemed like such a great guy, but of course he was now, in my opinion, a scumbag that stood me up. The five minutes inched by, and finally I went back into the parking lot and climbed into my car. As I started to drive away, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed a familiar number. “Hello?” “Hey Jeff,” I sighed. “You know how we talked about seeing how this date goes and deciding if we should get back together? Well, I’ve come to a decision.” “And?” he asked, sounding eager. “Go ahead and put ‘Born to Be Loved’ on your CD.” “Does that mean you’re taking me back?” “Yeah, I guess it does,” I said, a weird emotion overtaking me. I convinced myself the emotion was joy, although I knew it wasn’t really.
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Post by Kill on Jul 4, 2005 23:50:36 GMT -5
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! *breath* OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! *breath* OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
WHY, WHY, WHY?!?!?!?
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jul 4, 2005 23:51:49 GMT -5
That's a lot of "o"'s.
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Post by Kill on Jul 4, 2005 23:58:42 GMT -5
yOu, bet yOur bOttOm dOllar, dOri. lOl
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jul 5, 2005 0:01:31 GMT -5
ahhh! the o's are taking over!
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Post by Kill on Jul 5, 2005 0:08:20 GMT -5
Nah, they shall be ruled by the letters besides them. (trying not to use o's is hard! phew! lol)
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jul 5, 2005 0:13:03 GMT -5
Yeah, it is.
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jul 5, 2005 14:29:07 GMT -5
Part 12 I threw my purse onto the couch and spotted the flashing light on my answering machine. I pressed the button, although I already knew who it would be. “First message,” said the automatic voice. It gave me the time of the call, then I heard his voice. “Hey Lydia. It’s Tre.” I then pushed the 3 button and listened as the automatic voice told me the message had been erased. I didn’t care what he had to say. He had stood me up, and I was pissed. Not that it mattered anymore. I was taken. “Holy shit,” I whispered, as it finally registered. I was taken again, by the same man that had broken my heart only a week or so ago. I blinked, trying to prevent tears from falling down my cheeks. “I’m happy,” I said, trying to convince myself. “This is what I want.” It was as if on cue that the phone rang. I lifted it my ear, expecting for it to be my not-so-new boyfriend. But it was Tre. “What do you want?” I asked. “I tried to call but my phone kept cutting off. Mike and Billie got into this big fight and they wouldn’t let me leave. I feel so bad. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. What are you doing this weekend?” “Wait, what happened?” I asked. I suddenly cared. Shit, I had been to quick to make the decision. I knew it already. “Billie and Mike got into an argument because Billie told Mike that a song he wrote was shit. So Mike locked himself in Billie’s bathroom and wouldn’t come out. I had to be the fucking middle man for FOREVER, since neither of them would get off their high horse and apologize. Finally they did, and I just got home about half a minute ago. I tried to call you, but my phone kept losing the call. This thing is cheap piece of shit. I’m so sorry. I feel like a real fucktard.” “Oh,” I said, the weird feeling that I had gotten when I told Jeff I would take him back arising again. “So, I was thinking this weekend I could take you someplace real nice. And if you want to get drunk and spit all over some old lady, you can go ahead and do that,” he laughed. “What do you say?” “I, um, can’t.” “Next weekend then? Maybe?” “It’s not really a time thing, Tre,” I whispered. “Um, I have a boyfriend now.” “What?” he asked. “Since when?” “Since about ten minutes ago,” I sighed. “I told you about that Jeff guy, right?” “The one that cheated on you?” “Yeah.” “YOU’RE BACK WITH HIM?” Tre screeched. “Yeah,” I said. “Sorry.” “You know what? It’s okay,” he sighed. “Bye Lydia.” Then he hung up. I was left sitting there, thinking about all the horrible mistakes I had just made, and whether or not there was any way to fix them.
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Post by Kill on Jul 5, 2005 15:09:07 GMT -5
Nope. There is not way to fix them. This story's making me depressed....lol
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jul 5, 2005 17:28:46 GMT -5
Sorry.
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Post by Kill on Jul 5, 2005 19:19:21 GMT -5
It's cool, lol.
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jul 5, 2005 19:19:22 GMT -5
Part 13 TRE’S POINT OF VIEW “What the fuck?” I murmured to myself, placing the phone back on it’s base. That was the most bizarre relationship I had almost been a part of. But you know what? She was just a girl, like tons of others. A relationship that could’ve been, but never would be. And I would get over it. I took a deep breath and headed into my room, ready to crash after one of the most bizarre days in the past couple of weeks. I had hardly fallen asleep when I heard a voice. “Tre? Tre, wake up.” I thought I was dreaming. I had to be dreaming. Please, let me still be asleep, I thought, feebly opening my eyes. There was Mike, hovering over my bed. “What are you doing here?” I asked. “I couldn’t sleep.” “So you came over and woke me up?” “Look, I had to talk to someone. Plus, it’s only 11:30. I never would’ve thought you’d be asleep.” “Well, what do you want to talk about?” I asked, sitting up, rather annoyed that I had been woken up. “Something besides my life. Tell me about you and Linda.” “Lydia,” I corrected. “And there is no me and Lydia.” “Really? What happened?” “She went back with her old boyfriend. You know, the one that cheated on her for a record deal?” “What?” Mike asked, staring at me in shock. “Yeah. I guess I was just a rebound or something, since they got back together.” “I’m sorry,” Mike said, looking truly remorseful. “Oh well,” I shrugged. “Just a girl. Not like we were in a real relationship or anything. There was one date. That was it.” “Yeah,” he said, nodding as if he knew that this was what I was trying to convince myself. But I had gotten over every relationship that could’ve been. I would get over this one, too. “Billie’s a stupid fuck.” “That was random. But what’s he do?” “Just the whole thing today,” Mike sighed. “He’s really starting to piss me off. If I didn’t love making music so damn much, I might just leave.” “Don’t talk like that,” I groaned. “I mean, I know what you’re talking about, but don’t even think of quitting. We’re going to make music until we can’t anymore.” Mike smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “But will we be making music in a band together?” He and I had gone through this discussion many times before, mostly after he and Billie had a fight. We also talked about it when he got divorced, when I got divorced, when each of us had a child. It was the same conversation I was used to. “Duh,” I laughed. “Because if people suddenly stop loving Green Day, we still have the Network to fall back on.” “What are you talking about?” Mike said sarcastically. “We hate the Network.” “Sorry,” I chuckled. “Lost my mind for a second. But I have the odd feeling that you and Billie will get over this and we’ll make some more kick ass music.” “I hope so,” he said, falling back onto my bed. “But what if we don’t?” “That, my friend, is something I don’t want to talk about right now.”
LYDIA’S POINT OF VIEW I sat in the booth at the restaurant, pressed between Jeff and the drummer of his band, Chad. The two were talking to Chris and Mark, the two guitarists, and eating buffalo wings. I just sat there fidgeting and occasionally sipping my soda. “This is so awesome,” Chris sighed. “Just like old times. The gang and Lydia.” I plastered on the best fake smile I could and wished I wasn’t there. The waitress walked up and looked at everyone. “Can I take ya’lls orders?” she asked. I stared at her. She was so much prettier than I was. And I could tell by the look on Jeff’s face that he thought so too. She was blonde, with enormous (and obviously fake) boobs barely hidden by this tiny T-shirt she wore. There I was, with my curly brown hair and boring appearance. I curled up against Jeff some more, hoping either I would disappear or suddenly become sexier. Everyone except me ordered, and she began to walk off. “I guess I’m not eating tonight,” I sighed. “Oh, sorry, honey,” she said, spinning around. “Can I take your order?” “Do you guys have salad?” I asked. “No.” “You don’t? What kind of restaurant doesn’t have salad?” “Sorry. Is there anything else you would like?” she asked, chewing on her pen. “No. I’m not hungry,” I sighed. As she walked off, I thought of how no one seemed to be bothered by the fact that I wasn’t eating. For some reason, I wished someone did.
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jul 5, 2005 19:55:49 GMT -5
Part 14 “That was so much fun,” Jeff laughed, his arm around my shoulders as we walked into my apartment. “Didn’t you miss hanging out with the guys?” “Yeah,” I said, although I had only gone about a week without being in a relationship with him. I hadn’t really missed the guys. In fact, I had actually been kind of happy I wasn’t forced to watch them talk about girls they thought were hot or challenge each other to all sorts of dumbass contests. “But most importantly,” he said, closing the door as we stepped inside. “Did you miss me?” He placed his hands on my hips and stared into my eyes. “You bet,” I said, giggling, although I wanted to tell him that I miss Tre more. I leaned forward and kissed him. “What did you miss most?” he asked. “I don’t know,” I said. “Well, you know what I missed most?” He grabbed me and lifted me up off the ground, practically forcing me to wrap my legs around his waist. He began walking, carrying me like some sort of child. He pressed his lips against mine and opened my bedroom door, practically falling on top of me on the bed. “This is what I missed most.” “So of all my redeeming qualities, you missed the sex most?” I asked, pulling away. “I was kidding,” he laughed, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a condom as he undid his pants. “Where’s your sense of humor?” “Forget it,” I said, climbing off the bed and heading for the living room. “What’s your problem?” he asked. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” I lied. “Lydia? Come on back here. I’ll cheer you up.” I looked at him. He stood in the doorway of my bedroom, sporting a pair of boxers with chili peppers on them and holding a condom in his hand. Not exactly romantic. “What do you mean by cheering me up?” “You know,” he said, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive fashion. “You mean fucking?” “You’re ruining the moment,” he laughed. “You’re the one waving a fucking condom in the air,” I groaned, and I started to cry again. What was wrong with me? Why was I always crying? “Are you okay?” he asked, running over and slipping an arm around my shoulder. “Baby, what’s wrong?” “Nothing,” I sobbed. “I’m fine. I just, well, don’t really want to have sex right now.” “Oh.” He looked very disappointed. “Um, you want to do something else instead?” “I have the odd feeling that you’re not talking about playing checkers or something,” I sighed, knowing instantly that he meant something else sexual. “If that’s what you want to call it,” he laughed, growling playfully. “Fine,” I said, following him into the bedroom.
TRE’S POINT OF VIEW “Mike is being such a jackass,” Billie sighed. “Billie,” Adrienne whispered, looking at the children. “It’s not like they’ve never heard these words before,” Billie groaned. I sat at the table next to Joey, silently eating the pasta Adrienne had prepared. This was one of the few times Billie actually got to sit down with his family and have dinner, and for some reason I had been invited over. “But Mike is just having a little hissy fit because I don’t want to record that song he wrote. Did you read that thing?” “No,” I said. “Consider yourself lucky. It was shit put to words.” “Billie!” Adrienne sighed. “You kids know these words, don’t you?” Billie asked. “Yeah,” said Joey. “At least he didn’t say fuck,” Jakob added. I laughed so hard I almost squirted the water I was drinking out my nose. “JAKOB!” Adrienne sighed. “Don’t say that word again.” “Sorry,” he apologized. Billie chuckled. “So, how about you and that chick?” “What chick?” “Linda or Lydia or something.” “Lydia and I are no more,” I said. “She went back to her old boyfriend.” “No offense, but I’m not surprised. You are kind of obnoxious.” “Billie,” Adrienne said for about the 800th time that evening. “It’s fine,” I said. “I have to get going. Thanks for dinner.” I got up and left. Mike’s thoughts suddenly seemed to be making sense.
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