Love Me Like You Did Before

Whether or not I have been in denial for the past three months or so, I couldn't deny that it was a fact. I've been in love with John for so long. It actually kind of is hard to imagine living a life without any recollection of him at all. That could be a synonym for a torturous La La Land.

"So what exactly do you intend on doing in order to obtain Mr. O'Callaghan's attention?" Anthony smirked.

"Well, first, I am going to slap you." I started off. "Second, I'm going stick my head in a hole until the sky turns green."

"Pessimist."

"Optimist."

"You're going to have to say something."

"I don't have to say anything. I said that I was madly in love with John, not that I was actually going to do something about it." I climbed over the bar. "If Jake looks for me, tell him I'm getting a tattoo or something."

"Another one?"

"It's called lying you know."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry."

Did I mention I had a tattoo? Probably not with all the hustle and bustle. Nothing much, just a phrase that I coined myself, wrapping its words around my forearm. But what it says is not entirely important at the moment.

"I'll see you around," I waved and headed in the opposite direction.

The club was becoming more crowded by the hour. I think it'd be best if I start heading upstairs. If anything does wrong, then, well, that's what a broom closet is for, right?

Once I got to the top of the stairs, I immediately ducked behind the nearest pillar. My worried thoughts got to the best of me.

Well, I suppose it was for the best. A mumbled argument came to my attention. I sneaked a peek to see the verbal fight.

"What are you talking about? She can't be here!" And there Kennedy was with his blue Glamour Kills shirt. His face was red.

"Hey! You're the one who booked the show!" Peter backfired.

"Yeah, but I didn't expect her to be here. I was going to look up her address after the show."

"Well, then, you don't have to do anything now."

"So, you're positive she's here?"

"Yes," Peter sighed.

Kennedy smiled, "I'll be right back." He ran off towards my direction.

"Good luck finding her! She's been avoiding me all day!" Peter yelled.

I started to take baby steps back towards the stairs. The floor boards creaked each tip toe that I did.

Oh, God. I forgot about how close the stairs were, "SHIT!" I caught myself on the railing. My entire body was balanced between my foot and my hand between five stairs.

"Having fun?"

I looked up through the strands of hair, "Oh, crap."

Kennedy smiled, "Hello, Deee."

"I don't go by that anymore--Can you please be helpful and get me out of this uncomfortable position?" I couldn't let go of the railing for obvious reasons. It was either face Kennedy or fall down a flight of stairs. Honestly, I was seriously considering the second choice.

His raised his eyebrow, "Which one? The Hiding-From-John-While-Being-Within-the-Same-Building position or the Dangling-From-the-Very-Edge-Of-the-Stairs position?" He chuckled.

I glared, "Kennedy, if you do not help me right this instant, I will really pour poison into your vitamin water."

"No." He folded his arms across his chest.

"Wha-Why not?" I stuttered, still gripping on to the railing.

"Not until you apologize."

"For what?"

"Leaving."

"You could have tried to stop me!"

"I did!"

"Not very well!"

"Well, that is not my problem! The deal is: you left, John is a useless wreck, and... and we all really miss you, Deee." He sighed.

I shook my head to choke back regretful tears, "I-I told you. Don't call me that."

"Call you what? Deee?"

"Stop, Kennedy."

"Well, I'm sorry, Deee."

"Stop!"

"Why, Deee?"

"UGH!" I let go of the rail, falling down two more stairs. The bruises started to form on my forearms. The tears started to spill out of me. The truth was: I didn't want to be called that because I didn't want all the bad...and good memories to come back. It's just too much to handle. I stayed huddled in the corner.

Kennedy ran down, skipping a couple of steps and wrapped his arms around me, "Oh, God."

"You jerk." I sniffled while still gripping onto his shirt.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

"No, you're not." I shook my head. I took a deep breath, "And you shouldn't be."

He looked at me, "What?"

I wrapped my arms around his neck, "Kenny, I am so sorry I left!"

He hushed me, "It's ohkay."

"No, it's not!"

"Why?"

"Because I still love John and I don't know what to do."