Just Hate Me and We'll End It Here

Bailey

Wow. Neat… “It’s…” but my voice drops, unable to think of the right words.

The walls are a light dusky blue, though the ceiling is dark blue. The bed frame looks grand and old, made of dark wood- the nightstand and dresser match perfectly with silver handles. The carpet is light, tinged with blue- and there’s a black and blue fluffy rug near by. There’s a window to outside with plastic white daisies put along there.

Girlish, but… sort of sweet. Then again, looking at the walls, it’s different. There’s a Blink 182 poster, along with The Beatles, New Found Glory and Pink Floyd. There’s something of a border around the top, but it’s just records being held up.

There’s a small closet nearby, with an old-fashioned stand up mirror next to it, oval and slanted… but amazing. Sure, I might prefer more blank or something, but… it’s sort of nice.

“Do you like it?” Alex’s voice breaks in. “It was already painted, but I thought you might enjoy it. I have some black sheets that I just washed, and uh… well, yeah. I thought the daisies might make it a little sunnier, but yeah,” he shrugs. “So? Will it be okay?”

Slowly, I manage a jerky nod. “Um, yeah. It’s, it’s nice.” I bite my lip for a minute and glance up at him a little jittery. “So, thanks… you didn’t have to. A couch is fine.”

He raises his eyebrow. “But that would be quite the waste, don’t you think? However, if you ever feel the need, feel free to sleep on the couch. But know that this room is yelling for you, okies? Uh, I’d help unpack,” he suddenly adds, “but if I don’t head out, Zack’s going to mutilate my tongue or something and that wouldn’t do so great. Oh, and Georgie’s out back, so you can let him in whenever. See you later.” He pauses, then quickly gives me a kiss on the cheek and runs out before I can slap him.

Not that I brought my hand up for it.

It kinda put me in shock for a minute, actually.

Stupid good kissing lips.

After a minute, I manage to blink and put my box down, just inside the room. Slowly, I lift the box Alex had put down and bring that in, too. But the sheets… I leave and have to look all over the house- my little tour, I suppose- before finally finding the sheets, which are indeed very black with a silver trim, and I put those on my bed.

Done with that, I let in the hyper Georgie who’s glad to see me. I spend a few minutes playing with him before heading back out to the car. I want to get all the boxes out before unloading them all.

Stepping out, I see that Alex has paused to unload all the boxes and put them on the front step. A little piece of my hard heart seems to melt at the gesture… not good. Swallowing hard, I lift the closest box and start carrying it up to my new bedroom.

Aaaaaand, four hours later, I am DONE!

… Okay, almost done. But at least all of my clothes are out- including my shoes, of course. I’ve also managed to move my food to the kitchen and my toiletries to the bathroom… after taking Gaskarth’s things out, of course.

What? If I’m living here, I get the bathroom. I’m sure he has plenty others. And it’s not my fault he chose to put me next to the one he chose to use. Plus he has one in his bedroom.

Not that I checked, of course.

…

Okay, so I checked. But hello, if I’m going to be living here, shouldn’t I have the right to see the house? Not that there was much to it, after all. Three or so guitars, some band posters, and a huge mess everywhere. Needless to say, I didn’t stay long.

I also checked the other rooms. One is full of exercise equipment, another of musical instruments. Ones full of boxes of letters, which reminds me that he’s actually famous… which is just weird. Who on earth would ever want to clap for him, anyways? The last room is set up like a guest room itself… but its sort of… totally white and bland and I’m actually reallllly glad all of a sudden that he didn’t put me in there.

The rest of the things I need to unpack are my books, my music, and a few extra things. But I realize I’m in need of a bookcase to put them somewhere now, so I just leave the boxes in the corner. Nothing to do, I pull out my computer, laying it on my bed.. I check a few random sights and then grudgingly, I do the impossible.

I google Alex Gaskarth.

His myspace comes up… sighing as I lie forward on my stomach, I click on it and rest my chin on my hand. Hmmm… oh no. He’s ‘taken’ instead of single. Ugh. I roll my eyes and scroll down. His birthday, his comments… Wow, lots of girls practically drooling over him.

His music player thing turns on as I start through his photo albums. Partying, on stage, recording, singing, playing games, wrestling, sleeping, drinking, goofing off, us…

Wait, us?

Frowning, I click on it. But… it is. Wow. When did that… oh, huh. I don’t recall that- at the fair they must’ve gotten a picture of us, cause that’s where we are. We’re just walking by, his arm around my shoulder. My crossed arms had drooped by then to just hang simply at my sides, my eyes wandering; his, however, stay focused on myself.

Creepy stalker.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Fudge monkeys!” My hand slams the keyboard, startled. I stare at Alex. “Don’t do that!”

“Couldn’t resist,” he grins sheepishly. “You looked pretty intense, staring at the screen. What are you looking at? Me, I hope.” He comes over.

Frantically I click a few buttons and it turns to my own page as he comes over… and lies on top of me, his stomach on my back, his ankles dangling down like we’re a cross or something. I groan. “Get off of me, fatty.”

“I’m no fatty, I’m skinny,” he pouts.

“Not when you eat cows like you do, buddy… or when you are a cow.” I smirk, glancing at him then turning back to my page. Hmmm… more comments… Wait, but I don’t know them. I stare at the screen, stunned.