We're Trouble Bound

August - Part One

“The button came off,” he paused briefly with his hands at the waist band of her jeans.

She was pushing him backwards toward the end of the bus, her lips nipping at his neck. “What?”

“I think I’ve broken yer trousers…”

She stopped and looked down in between them where he was holding the button of her jean shorts in the palm of his hand. She snorted a laugh and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Well you wanted my pants off…” She wiggled her hips, shimmying out of her shorts. Oliver dropped the button on the floor and took a hold of her hips roughly. She put her hands on his cheeks and connected her lips to his. When they made it to the back of the bus, she climbed onto his lap while he grabbed the edge of her shirt. She raised her arms in the air, allowing him to pull the tank top off over her head. She pushed her fingers into his hair while his reached for the clasp of her bra. “Moving fast today, I see…” She smiled against the skin of his neck before running her lips lightly along his jaw.

“Ef yeh’d seen yerself in them shorts, yeh’d understand my rushin’…” He ran his fingers down her sides and leaning back a little.

“I wear these shorts every day,” she reminded him.

“Well, I want yeh every day, don’ I?”

“Good point.”

Oliver and Jaime had come up with something to replace the drinking they’d given up. And it was working out pretty well for them.

The first week of their joint sobriety had been interesting to say the least. In attempt to continue concealing the epilepsy that Jaime didn’t like discussing, Oliver had told everyone that it was a bet to see who could go the longest without drinking. Everyone had accepted this; it seemed crazy enough to be something they would do. Their friends thought it was hilarious and were placing their own bets on who would break first. The majority had picked Jaime as the winner, knowing that Oli was not known for his self-control.

In that first week neither felt like they were winning. They were ridiculously bored. While everyone else was knocking back drinks, Jaime and Oliver were trying to come up with things to occupy their time. At this point, they were still dancing around flirtation. Oliver was uncertain if she was even still genuinely interested in him that way. So he kept his urge to make advances at bay for the first few days. He knew she was flirting with him but as he recalled, that’s how she’d always been.

They asked people for activity suggestions. Nadine and Nicholls had jokingly suggested taking up heroin or cocaine, kind of missing the point. Sean and Danny offered to show them the ropes of World of Warcraft. Many different sorts of card games were learned including gin and euchre. MySpaces were checked almost hourly.

They’d found a decent hobby in watching movies. It wasn’t totally terrible and it lead to their current pastime. While watching a particularly steamy scene, Jaime had proclaimed “we should have sex.” And Oliver remembered why he liked her so much to begin with.

“Your belt buckle is scratching me…” She pulled her hand from his hair to rub the spot of her stomach where his belt was jabbing her.

“Ef yeh did less complainin’ and more undressin’ tha’ wouldn’ be a problem.”

Her mouth popped open briefly before she took a hold of his chin with her hand. “Hey, don’t sass me. I’m in charge here, Sykes.”

“Yeh sure ‘bout tha?” He pulled her back into him, wrapping his tightly arms at the small of her back.

--

“Where the fuck have you been, Jamie Renee?” Nadine yelled as Jaime approached the merch tent. “I’m hungry and I’ve been wearing the same clothes since the other night… I smell like the back alley of a bar. How am I supposed to go to the release party when I look like—baby girl, is that a hickey?”

Jaime’s hands immediately clasped her neck. “I will kill that bastard,” she groaned.

“It is a hickey!” Nadine declared happily. “You dirty skank.”

“That motherfucker did it on purpose.” Jaime started to pull out her cell phone.

“I knew you guys were fucking again. I knew it!” Nadine leaned back in her folding chair, a smug look washing over her face.

Jaime hit her speed dial number four and pressed the phone to her, waiting for him to pick up.

“Miss me o’ready, love?” was how he answered.

“You’re a dead man, Oliver Sykes,” she said.

He laughed. “Was wonderin’ how long it would take yeh ta notice.”

“If it wasn’t for Dine I would have walked around all day looking like a white trash whore without even knowing… If I was going to look trashy, I’d at least like to be aware.”

“Poor lass.”

“You did it on purpose. I know you, honey; you don’t accidently leave marks. You’re better than that.”

“I am pretty good.”

“You’re a douchebag.”

“But at least we know ‘oo’s in charge.”

She groaned again. “We’re gonna fight later. Swear to god, cage match to the death.”

“Is tha’ a promise?” He snickered.

“You bet it is.”

“Sounds like a good time.”

“You’re so dead,” she repeated before hanging up. Though she was saying angry things, the corners of her mouth were tugging up. “Mother fucker…”

“Shut up,” Nadine said. “You love it and you know it.”

“I don’t love having to go to our release party looking like a cheap prostitute. I’ll have to wear a scarf or something. It’s too hot for that shit. It’s twelve thousand degrees.”

“I have some concealer that works pretty well.”

“You would.”

“With Oli as a boyfriend, you should probably invest in your own.”

Jaime rolled her eyes grandly. “Don’t do that right now, Nadine.”

“Just tossing the idea out there. Putting it out in the world… Boyfriend isn’t a dirty word.”

“You know where I stand; you and I have talked about this before.”

“But that was months ago! A lot of things are different now.”

“Are they? Not really…”

“What about the fact that he’s completely in love with you?”

“Is he? How do you know? Because he said it once three months ago? Saying it doesn’t make it true. Doesn’t magically make love real.”

“Oh god. Not this shit again… Your cynicism is getting kind of old, Jaime.” Nadine sounded surprisingly angry.

“It isn’t cynicism. It’s realism.”

“You can’t possibly believe all the bullshit you feed everyone.”

“I’m glad you think what I think is bullshit,” Jaime scoffed.

“What am I supposed to think? There’s this attractive guy who is perfect for you in every fucking way and he jumps through every hoop you put out there, just so he can be with you… And you act like it’s nothing, like it’s not remarkable. I’m not sure if you’re dumb or just cruel.”

“Nadine!”

“Don’t act like it isn’t true, that it isn’t cruel… You torture him and he just lies down and takes it because he’s so in love with you.”

“I still don’t see where you’re getting this illusion of love…”

“Jaime, don’t be a cunt… Think about it. He followed your fucked up rules so he could have sex with you. You asked him to be on the record and he flew out to LA to do it when he could have done it from any studio in England instead. You gave him the silent treatment for weeks until he showed up in Pittsburgh to apologize, then you beat the shit out of him and he took it… Oh and don’t forget, he sat with you in the hospital and held your hand while you got your face sewn back together. Not to mention he quite fucking drinking just so you would… If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.”

Jaime stood across the table, staring at her best friend. Nadine rarely got this intense; her conversations were usually always playful in nature. She was never this serious. Jaime was speechless. She had no idea what to do.

“I’m going to get some food now.” Nadine stood up. “Can you handle this for ten minutes?”

“Uh huh… t-take your time,” Jaime said, watching as Nadine walked away without saying anything else.

Jaime took a seat behind the table, amid the boxes of t-shirts and posters. She leaned the table, chin in her palm and she sighed. She honestly just wanted to curl into a ball behind the tent and nurse a bottle of vodka. She really did not like the idea of Nadine being angry with her. It made her wretchedly upset. Nadine was the only person she trusted in the entire world. They’d been best friends since the seventh grade.

Of course, things had been very different back then. Jaime had been very different. Optimistic and innocent. Nadine and Jaime had just started exploring rebellion when Jaime fell hard for the bassist in a popular local band. And when that turned out bad, Nadine was the only one of her friends to come to the hospital daily. She was the one to buy Jaime a neon blue wig when her hair was hideously short after the doctor’s had shaved it all off whilst fixing the damage. Nadine was there during the trial and when the letters from Keith came. It would be safe to say that Nadine knew Jaime better than anyone.

So was she right about Oliver?

--

“Yeh really don’ want to go to this party, do yeh, love?” Oliver asked as he exited his bus, looking slightly cleaner than usual.

Jaime was waiting for him at the bottom of the steps. “Huh?”

“How d’yeh expect me to go anywhere when yer wearing that skirt? Yeh know I’ll be bloody distracted all night.” He tugged the hem of her skirt lightly. It barely reached mid-thigh. Jaime only stepped outside of the comfort zone of her normal attire on very special occasions. For once, she’d traded in her denim shorts and plain t-shirt for a dressier outfit.

“I wasn’t thinking about your incredible and endless sex drive when I got dressed.”

He slid his hands over her hips and bent down by her ear. “But yer o’ways finking ‘bout me.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” As he went to kiss her neck, she swatted at him. “Quit. You’ll mess up my hair.” Weeks before, in the boredom of not drinking, she had reverted back to her platinum blonde shade. And it was presently very precisely done.

He didn’t let go of her waist. “Jus’ a quick’un before we havta go.”

“No time. I’m supposed to be at the club at—“

“Half eight, I know,” he said.

“Exactly… Some photographer is doing pictures then. Group shots and stuff.”

“Well ef we hurry...” He attempted to slide his hand up her skirt.

She grabbed it. “Be good,” she scolded.

He, per usual, pouted his bottom lip. “Yeh owe me one later, girl.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I owe you nothing.”

“In tha’ skirt, yeh owe me a good three er four hours.”

Her mouth twisted into a reluctant smile. “We’ll see… let’s go.” She pulled on his hand.

“Like yeh could refuse me,” he mumbled.

She smirked now but didn’t saying anything, instead started to walk. The club was not far from that day’s venue, close enough to walk. The part was in honor of Keep Your Composure’s third album which was set to release the following Tuesday. It was entitled “Above and Below” and Jaime was tremendously proud of how it had turned out.

Jaime kept a loose hold on Oliver’s hand; there was something very comforting about knowing he was right there. Her nerves were still jolted from Nadine’s harsh words earlier. She didn’t want her anxiousness to show; she didn’t need Oliver asking questions. Because if he asked what Nadine had said, Jaime feared she couldn’t lie to him. AS time went on, as she spent more and more time relatively happy in her situation with him, she found that she didn’t want to keep things from him. At this point there was very little he didn’t know. Her past, her disorder: he was one of very few people to know of it all. The only things he didn’t know about her involved him. Involved what Nadine had been arguing. Love.

Where Jaime was confused, Oliver was certain. He was done being confused or angry about the Jaime situation. He knew it was useless to fight his feelings; he’d realize that when he’d run to her aid the month before. He’d learned he would do anything for her. Including becoming someone completely different than the world knew him to be. And he was happier that way. He would gladly trade in his old life for a simpler one if it meant he could be with Jaime.

But he’d also decided that he would not push her for any affirmation of her feelings. No love declarations or official titles would be necessary. He didn’t care for any of it as long as he could continue to spend time with her. He wouldn’t give that up, wouldn’t risk it. It meant too much.

“These fucking heels,” she muttered, flexing her toes at the discomfort while they walked.

Oliver looked at her strappy, extreme shoes. “I like ‘em,” he said with a shrug.

“You would… They look like I stole them from Sasha Grey or something.”

“I don’ know ‘oo tha’ is.”

“She’s a porn star.”

Oliver found it quite amusing that Jaime knew porn stars better than he did; it was rather attractive. He looked back to her shoes. “Aye, they do look a bit like they belong in a porno… Yeh should fink ‘bout a second career. I fink yeh’d be good at it.”

“You think? I wonder if that’s good money…” She playfully mused. “And I’d be having a lot of sex with random men. That’s not so bad.”

“Well, maybe yeh could do jus’ bird on bird.”

Jaime shook her head and smirked again. “You’d be jealous otherwise?”

He looked over at her. “Fuckin’ right I’d be. I like yeh to myself.”

“Hmm, is that so?”

He pulled her to stop. “O’ course. ‘M a selfish bloke…” He kissed her lightly, gently.

A knot twisted in her stomach but she ignored it. “You got lipgloss on you.” She reached her hand up and wiped his mouth. It tore at her terribly when he said seemed so sweet. IT made it harder to keep form exploding with all her thoughts. “Come on, almost there.”

“Weren’t Nadine supposed to walk wiff us?”

Jaime frowned. “Supposed to, yeah…” She coarsely said.

“Runnin’ late?”

“No, being a bitch.”

“Eh?”

“She’s mad at me.”

“Over what?”

“It’s dumb.”

“Well what were it?”

“Nothing…” She avoided eye contact, hoping he would drop it before she said anything she didn’t want to. Her impulse control was going to shit.

“Oh… She’ll get over it.” As always, he obliged her, giving her what she wanted.
They came upon the club. Sean and Anthony were outside smoking. Like Over, they too had put on clothes that were mostly clean and semi-nice. Everyone had clearly pulled out the stops when getting ready. After a month and a half of sweating non-stop and showering infrequently, it was a sort of nice change of pace.

“Everyone else here?” Jaime asked Anthony and Sean.

Sean nodded. “Gav, Troy and Danny are doing shots at the bar…”

“Score one for an open bar,” Anthony said.

“We gotta make sure Danny isn’t wasted drunk before the party even starts,” Jaime joked.

“Alright, you be in charge of that, Jai,” Sean stated in amusement. “You can get him on the sobriety wagon… Unless you’re finally falling off it yourself tonight.” He thought for a moment. “You should probably definitely drink tonight,” Sean said slightly mischievously.

“Don’ let him talk yeh into it, Jaime,” Oliver said. “He bet I’d win… Ef yeh drink, Danny Troy and ‘im split like a thousand between the three of ‘em.”

Jaime’s jaw dropped and she scowled at Sean. “You bet AGAINST me?”

Sean looked a little guilty. “You like drinking too much to go much longer…”

“But not as much as this fool likes it,” she pointed at Oliver, still indignant.

“I fink ‘s about even, love…”

Jaime rolled her eyes and started inside, Oliver trailing behind her, hands still attached. “You know…” She said after they’d entered the still fairly empty club.

“Hmm?”

“You can drink tonight if you want… I’ll have a drink at the same time so no one wins or loses,” she offered. He could tell that she had already been planning this. It was too thought out not to be premeditated.

“Yeh will not ‘ave a drink,” he said sharply.

“I’m just saying one. One doesn’t hurt.”

“When have yeh ever had jus’ one drink?”

“I resent that,” she snapped.

“I’m jus’ sayin’ one leads to two… two leads to ten.”

“I think I have some restraint.”

“But yeh shouldn’t be drinkin’ at all—“

“I wish you wouldn’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t do. It’s a little condescending.”

“I’m jus’ tryin’ to look out for yeh, love…”

“I’ve been looking out for myself for quite some time,” she said. She wasn’t so much angry as troubled. His determination to keep her safe pained her. It only reminded her of his alleged love. The love she had such a hard time believing in. “I appreciate the concern. But I know you’re terribly bored without drinking… And I don’t want you to lose the big bet.”

“Am not bored!” He said quickly. “I been havin’ a good time wiff yeh.”

“But it’s not like you to be sober. It’s not fair for you to do it on my account…”

“It’s no problem—“

“Oliver, have a good time tonight… Please?” Jaime looked at him very softly, in a way that made his will falter. It was then that he cursed his inability to tell her no. She had a better pout than he did and she didn’t try nearly as hard as he did.

“Well I…”

“And I’ll have one drink and that’s all.” She hated tricking him but she knew he would forgive her.

“Jus’ one?”