I was listening to "Toxic Valentine" by All Time Low, and it inspired this story. I had multiple endings for this, but the one that is written seemed to just be...right. I don't really know how else to say it. If you haven't heard the song, I recommend you listen to it, so that you can get an understand on how the lyrics inspired one of the main characters and some of the plot line. I haven't written a short story in quite a while, I actually think is my first one that I haven't edited to death, or is reasonably good. Anything on parts of improvement, things to add or delete, which parts you liked best, and which ones you hated the most are all welcome. Constructive criticism in each post, please. Appreciate you guys taking the time to read this. PM me with any questions you have about it, and I'll happily explain.
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There she was; just as drunk and beautiful as I last remembered.
The local pub; she was always at the local pub. Every Wednesday night, and she never misses a week. The first time I saw her, she was crying in the corner of the bar at a two person table. Her makeup was running, streaking black stripes down her ivory cheeks. Her hair was up in pigtails and was a strawberry blonde with hot-pink dyed on the ends. She dressed like a scene or emo girl from high school, but she was much older than she looked. She was tall and loved to wear black lace over anything and everything.
When I walked over to her, her head snapped up quickly, with such a hopeful look on her face, as if she was expecting someone else. i couldn't bear to see her crestfallen look when it was not the person she was hoping. In fact, my presence seemed to make her sob harder. 'How could no one notice her?' I thought, bewildered. i sat down as she buried her head in her hands and shook uncontrollably.
"What's wrong?" I asked her, as straightforward as I could without sounding too intruding. After she stopped heaving and gasping for air, she looked at me. "Why would you care?" Her stare- Dear God her state- was piercing; like she wanted to tear me apart but challenge me as well. Challenge me to show that I cared. "Because I'm not as uncaring as I look."
"I don't believe you." Her tears were gone, but she made no attempt to wipe away her smeared makeup. if someone saw us, it would be as if she were furious at me for ruining her makeup. "Let me buy you a drink." I offered, "It cures heartbreak momentarily." Her gaze wavered. "Why would you assume that I would cry over a heartbreak?" She was on the defensive now. "Because I have." I stood up and offered her my hand. She stared at it, then stared at me. 'Like emeralds,' I thought, 'They're just like emeralds.' I didn't know how long I could've stared into those eyes, probably for days, and I wouldn't have noticed going hungry or becoming dehydrated. It seemed that only after eternity, she stopped staring at me and held my hand. I closed my fingers around her small hand gently as I lead her to the bar.
"What'll it be?" The bartender was a kind, old man who strangely didn't drink. "The usual, Matt." He turned towards her, "And for the lady?"
"Names Jessie, not lady. Have anything to cure a heartache/" Jessie. That was her name. Strange, I expected something more...out there. maybe Veronica or Dominique. Jessie. Could it be short for Jessica? "I'll bring you both of your drinks in a moment." As he walked away, I turned towards Jessie. "Now, you mind telling me why you're here' crying in the corner of a bar when I found you?" Her eyes gleamed with anger, but then eased when she saw the bartender heading back. "For the gentleman..." He passed me a 16 oz. clear glass with a light purple liquid and ice in it. "Grape on the rocks. And for...Jessie." He passed the same sized cup with a light champagne colored liquid and ice. "Vodka and champagne, diluted with tonic and Sprite." He wiped his hands on a small white towel, nodded and smiled our way, and left to serve others waiting a few stools down.
"To answer you question..." She spoke slowly and low, nearly inaudible. "I'm here to meet...someone special...from my past. Bu, as you can see," she motioned to her makeup streaked face, "...he blew me off." I wanted to ask more, but I felt like I would be a little snoopy. "What's your story? Why're you here?"
I gulped, this was the part I never told most women, that i came to the bar when the strip club was closed. "Uh...ex." Technically, it wasn't a total lie. Her emeralds flared, but she said nothing. We talked the night away, carefully avoiding why we were both there. She was drunk by midnight from ten of her drinks; I stopped at two of mine. She grabbed her purse and smiled lazily at Matt. "Thanks for the drinks, darling." She stumbled off the bar stool in her heels. "Cured my heartache like that." She clumsily snapped her fingers. "You're too drunk to drive home, Jessie."
"Am...not." As she walked, her ankle twisted and she stumbled into the wall by the door. She mumbled something incoherent. "Come here." I picked her up and carried her out of the bar. Her head rested against my shoulder and she threw her arms around my neck. "Jessie, don't fall asleep just yet." I set her down and helped her stand up. She unstrapped her bright red stilettos. "God damn these little fuckers." i held onto her arm so she wouldn't fall.
As soon as the cab came, she fell asleep; I could smell the alcohol on her breath, which was starting to get me dizzy. I gave the cab driver my address; obviously Jessie couldn't give him directions, and I[i/] certainly wasn't going to wake her.
The drive was long, especially when a sexy, drunk, sleeping girl is all over you in a cab with the alcohol on her breath re-intoxicating you. I started remembering what she said in the bar, about why she was there.
[i]"I'm here to meet...someone special...from my past."
It seemed like I had come across her type before; beautiful, confident, fierce, blunt... SO familiar, yet her presence is a bit vague, like a forgotten memory trying to resurface. The cab jerked to a halt, causing Jessie to mumble something unintelligible. "Thanks, man." I paid him quickly and somehow managed to get the half-awake Jessie out of the cab. "What's going on?" Her eyes fluttered open. Her pigtails cam undone, her dress was messed up, and she was barefoot, so why did I find her extremely attractive?
"My apartment." I pointed to the complex behind me. "Second floor, c'mon." The front desk clerk took no notice as i half-carried Jessie to the staircase, since the elevator was out of service. She seemed to notice I was taking her to my apartment right as soon as I was about to unlock the door. She pulled away from me and ferocity revitalized in her eyes. "You think we'll have sex tonight?" I laughed at the thought. "It's not funny."
"I don't want to sleep with you, Jessie." It should've been a lie, but it wasn't That feeling came up again, like deja vu. I unlocked the door and opened it. "After you, my dear." She looked at me with malice in her eyes and stormed inside.
It wasn't much; two bedrooms, a bathroom, kitchen, living room, and a tiny balcony. The living room only had a couch, two wooden chairs, a glass top table, and a bulky, retro looking TV. I had no pictures on the walls. I showed her the guest bedroom; a kind sized bed, a bedside table, a lamp, and a closet. It looked like a room from an insane asylum. "You'll sleep in here." She looked surprised, like 'How could you not want to sleep with me?' But she looked at the bed again with lust. "Thanks." She climbed into bed and passed our before she even got underneath the covers.
I knew she would have a major hangover in the morning, so I left a bottle of water and a few aspirins on the bedside table. I went to bed in my room thinking, 'Why do I feel like I know her?' It was past one in the morning when I finally went to sleep.
I got up early the next morning; about seven. My first thought was of Jessie. I threw off the blankets and went next door to her room. The bed sheets were ruffled and messed up, the pillows strewn on the floor, the bottle of water half empty and two aspirins missing. But not Jessie. I sighed, one of disappointment. I thought I would never see her again...
That's why i was surprised when i saw her at the strip club.
I was known as a regular there, so the owners gave me discounts on the private rooms with the ladies that-erm-'work' there. I sat in one, and asked for a surprise, and boy, did I get one! The first thing I noticed about the girl wasn't how toned she was, not the hot, lave lingerie set she was wearing, or the black stiletto heels. No-what I noticed were her eyes, like emeralds. "Jessie?" She looked at me with her piercing stare. "So now you know." I sat on the couch, and she sat in my lap, but she didn't do a show and we didn't have sex, we just talked, like the previous night at the bar. "You left without saying goodbye this morning."
"I didn't know you were gonna cry about it." Her harsh tone didn't agree with the guilty but angry gleam in her eyes. "But thanks for the aspirin; it helped."
"Why did you have to leave so early?"
"Work." She motioned around us. "Boss'll fire me if I'm late."
"Did...did you always-"
"Want to be a stripper? Hell no." She flipped her hair to a different side, and it brought back a memory.
Senior year of high school. Spring Break. Florida. Brittany. She reminded me of Brittany, my long term girlfriend before we went our separate ways for college. That was six years ago; i haven't heard from her since. Brittany used to always flip her hair when she was talking about something serious or feeling anxious. The sudden memory made my eyes water.
"What'd you want to be?"
"None of your business." More walls; it was always walls with Jessie. The buzzer rang and I rushed home to my apartment, not looking back or saying goodbye to Jessie.
I went inside the guest room to clean it up. The sheets still smelt like the alcoholic drink Jessie had last night; Vodka, champagne, tonic, and Sprite; The Heartache Drink, Matt called it. I could use a shot of that.
The first thing I noticed when I was folding the sheets was the purse poking out from underneath the pillow. I reached for it; it was Jessie's, from the night she passed out drunk.
That's where I am now. It was about a week since that happened. I was at the bar every night for a week, when Matt told me that she only came on Wednesdays, it made my mind reel. 'Why only Wednesdays?' But he wasn't bluffing, she was there, but she wasn't crying in the corner anymore; she was downing Heartaches while dancing with some sleezy punk who was obviously groping her. I had her purse in my hand, planning on giving it back to her tonight. Looks like I'll be wailing on some white-trash also. Sauntering up to him, I pushed his shoulder with the palm of my hand. "Back off, jackass." The anger burning inside of me shut off all my thinking capabilities. "Keep you hands off my girl." Did I say just what I think I just said?
"Back off, poser." His voice was assertive. He stepped around me and went to hold Jessie again, but she noticed as he was groping her. She squirmed to get out of his grasp, but he wasn't letting her go. "Leave her alone!" It had been a long time since I had gotten this angry and showed it. I turned him around, still holding Jessie's purse in my hand, and right hooked him as hard as I could.
He staggered backward, leaving me enough time to grab a glass bottle full of whiskey and knocked him out. Jessie looked down at him as he feel to the floor, hitting the back of his head on a bar stool. Her drunk gaze met mine as she formed a crooked smile. "Didn't know you could be a bad-ass." She kissed me, and nearly missed. Her lips tasted like champagne and Sprite, and her breath was intoxicatingly alcoholic, making me drunk. Whoa, me getting drunk on her kiss; who'd have thought?
"Oh um..." My brain was trying to reform. "Left this...my place...last week..." Dear God, i wasn't even able to construct a proper sentence. She tipped her head lazily as she eyed the purse in my hand. "Thanks, doll." Doll; Brittany used to call me doll. The only thing that was different was the way Brittany's silver-blue eyes sparkled, but I was definitely alright with emeralds. I kissed her forehead, feeling a wave of protection pull me under. "Let's take a cab home." I said as I wrapped my arm around her waist, feeling her relax and her pulsating warmth wrap around my fingertips. "Yes, sir." Her smile was playful, but her eyes sparkled fiercely.
I held her hand the entire cab ride to my apartment, her head laying on my shoulder. Her alcoholic scent wafting throughout the cab, making me even more tipsy. "I wanted to be an artist."
Her voice was a whisper, I was questioning whether or not she had really spoken or not. "What?"
She turned her head to look me in the eyes. "At the strip club, when you asked me what I wanted to be." She rested her head back down. "I wanted to be an artist."
"Then, why are you working as a stripper?"
"Flunked out of art school, parents gave up on me, couldn't sell any of my work to any modern art museums, couldn't find any well-paying jobs-" she shrugged. "became a stripper."
Art school? 'Brittany wanted to major in art. Maybe she went to she went to the same school as her.' Stop, just stop. What good does it do if I found out if they went to the same art school or not? It wouldn't bring her back. It wouldn't turn back time. It would only bring me more pain. "Hey, what about you?" Her voice brought me back.
"Um...as a kid, i always wanted to be an astronaut." She seemed to stop breathing at that point, but only for a moment, as if she was suddenly anxious about something.
I paid the driver as we approached the parking lot. They journey to the second floor was more of an awkward stumble contest. I fumbled with my keys as Jessie stared at me intensely. Once i got it open, I led her straight to her bedroom-the guest bedroom she stayed in a week ago. I stood and watched as she put her purse and cell phone carefully on the bedside table. She walked slowly to where I was standing and locked eye with me with what seemed to be-cliche, I know-an eternity. I leaned down and kissed her; I just needed to before I went to bed. She kissed me back enthusiastically. The euphoric spell she cast on me felt fantastic. She pulled away with a loving smile on her face. It was the first smile that didn't have sarcasm or playfulness hidden behind it. I smiled, the sight of hers warming my heart.
"Oh, Brittany, I-" My blood turned cold. Rule number one, never call any girl by the name of your ex. Her smile faltered, and her emeralds turned misty. 'Idiot.' I cursed myself. She bent her head down and put her hands to her face. She shuddered a few times. "Jessie, I'm so sorry-" When she looked up at me, i expected a look of regret or even make-up streaks down her face. But what I was met with wasn't either of the two.
Her green eyes were no longer misty, because she took out her colored contacts.
Silver-blue eyes sparkled as she spoke, "Six years feels like forever."
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