We're Trouble Bound

August Part Three

“Matt! Hey!” Jaime called to Nicholls in the catering line. He didn’t hear her right away; he was absorbed in talking to a waifish blonde. Jaime briefly wondered if the heroin chic look was coming back or if it had never actually left. “Nicholls!” She yelled even louder and he finally saw her.

“Jaime!” He mocked her eager tone. He grinned while the girl he was with sneered. Jaime always got a kick out of the irrational hatred some females had for her. She found it devastatingly hilarious. It must have been some weird primal territorial thing. Did they find her threatening? Jaime smiled back at Matt and he waved her over. “What’s up, girl?”

“Have you seen Oliver?” She asked. “He’s disappeared and won’t answer his phone.”

“Oliver?” Matt looked confused for a moment. “Oh! You mean your boyfriend?” He said this with an amused smirk. The boyfriend-girlfriend terminology had become somewhat of a joke among their friends. After a year of watching their games, a party was practically thrown in honor of the event. Everyone was somewhat surprised that it had happened at all, after so much resistance. But in a way, their friends were unsurprised. It seemed so natural for Jaime and Oliver to be together. But hadn’t they already been together? They had been, in an unofficial capacity. And it had been a more tightly bound sort of together than any official definitions dictated. They were permanently tied to one another; that was plain for anyone even remotely close to them to see. No matter how hard they had tried, they couldn’t ever get away from each other. So, for them to be official, gladdened their friends. It gave them hope that the worst was over. Something new and trouble-free could begin.

Jaime rolled her eyes in the most exaggerated manner she could come up with. “Boyfriend? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“It is.” He nodded.

“Then yes, my boyfriend. Where is he?” Jaime caught sight of the waif girl pulling out her cell phone and beginning to rapidly text.

“Saw him on the bus a bit ago. I think he lost his mobile last night…”

“I dunno.” Jaime shrugged. “I guess I didn’t see it sitting beside mine this morning where it usually is. So that would make sense… Drunken moron.”

“’S a bit funny seein’ yeh haulin’ his wasted arse ‘round the place.”

“It certainly is a lot of work; it just didn’t seem like it when I was wasted too,” she grinned.

“Still can’t believe yer tryin’ to go without drinkin’ again. ‘S silly now tha’ yeh have no reason.”

“I’ve got a reason,” she said slyly but then finished “I just want to show the world how much better I am than Oliver at self-control.”

“I don’ fink anyone was doubtin’ tha’ anyway.” There was something that Jaime really liked about Nicholls and all of Oliver’s friends in general. They mocked him shamelessly, laughing at his expense on a frequent basis. But underneath that, they really did care for him. For whatever reason. Guys were a mystery that way. A man could be as much of a dickhead, womanizing, drunkard as he wanted to be and his buddies would support that. It was rather funny. But what Jaime really wondered is how they continued to support Oliver’s decisions when it came to her. Why did they continue to like Jaime even after all the shit she put him through? She was beginning to think that they knew something she didn’t.
Jaime noticed the waif still scowling snidely in her direction, one of those harsh judging looks. The waif didn’t like that her time was being interrupted. So Jaime, mischievous as ever, continued “What am I gonna do in three days when Warped is over?” Jaime frowned melodramatically. “I’m gonna miss you all something terrible.”

“But me the most right?” Matt asked.

“Well, yeah.” Jaime wrapped an arm around Matt’s middle and he put one around her shoulder. It was a bit warm for this behavior but Jaime liked the response. The waif let out an audible scoff before pretending to be texting again.

Jaime was feeling delightfully malicious just as someone yelled “Oy!” She turned to see Oliver approaching them. “Hands off the little bird, Nicholls!” He hollered. “Tha one’s mine.” He pointed a finger at Jaime while smirking.

“No,” Jaime said. “I’ve decided to trade you in, Oliver. For someone who doesn’t lose their phone.”

“So you haven’t seen it either? Fuck…” He reached for her hand and pulled her over to him. She let go of Nicholls easily, relaxing into Oliver instead of his friend. “I’ve lost it then?”

“I guess so,” Jaime stated. “You had it last night for a little while. When you told me you were going to call the cops if I didn’t let you do another shot of Jager.”

Oliver’s eyebrows raised. “That didn’t happen.”

“Of course it did,” Jaime laughed. “I wasn’t stopping you from doing a shot to begin with but you seemed to think so. I’d never hold you back, silly.”

--


Fueled by Gossip post

Can someone confirm/deny that Oli and Jaime got together officially during Warped Tour? Like I know they’ve been on-off ‘best friends’ for like forever but someone said that they’re finally really dating. Any truth to that?
comments:
-they are sooooo hot and cold. i’m not sure if anyone knows the answer.
-Ugh. Wish they would make up their minds.
-This is easily the most batshit couple on the planet.
- I heard she quit drinking/partying. Maybe she’s pregnant? And that’s why they’re actually claiming to be a couple now. For the ~baby.
-I can confirm 100% that they’re together. My best friend has been hanging out Matt Nicholls (BMTH drummer) because she’s working for AP at Warped and these are her exact words to me “I saw Jaime from KYC in the catering line. She was looking for Oli. Matt called Oli her boyfriend and she didn’t deny it. She’s kind of a bitch and was flirting with Matt, totally all over him even though I was standing right there. When Oli showed up she didn’t even try to pretend she wasn’t. It was way skanky. Gross. I wanted to call her out so bad.”
-I wish she would just go away. She is not as fucking cool/tough/pretty/whatever as she thinks she is. I have no idea why everyone thinks her and Oli are such a cute couple. He deserves so much better.

--

She was trying, really trying, to be as quiet as possible. Though they were in the privacy of the backend of the bus, they had been forbidden from having sex while others were aboard. They were breaking the rule and Jaime was trying to cover that fact. But Oliver had become the master of making Jaime be as loud as possible. He kept his mouth locked with hers, implementing the most intense kisses while he squeezed her hips, pushing and pulling her onto him forcibly. She tried to occupy her mouth with his so that she didn’t let out any sounds. But then one of his hands traveled down in between them to touch her and Jaime’s eyes rolled back into her head and she stopped trying.

When they were finished and getting redressed, Oliver looked incredibly pleased with himself. His smug haughty attitude streamed into words. “I wish I’d fuckin’ video’d yeh jus’ now… Moanin’ like a porn star.”

Jaime rolled her eyes. “You liked that, huh?”

“Aye. Was hot. Fuckin’ hot.”

“Oh, I’m glad.”

“I’d play it on repeat ef I could.”

“I was trying to hold it back. I know Kean heard that.”

“Well, now he’ll know wha’ a fuckin’ champ I am.”

“I’m not sure if anyone could doubt that.” She leaned over and kissed his still bare shoulder. “But especially not after my porn worthy screaming.”

“Right… Maybe yeh shouldn’ get dressed.” He brushed her hair away from her neck and kissed the exposed skin. “I could get one o’ Tommy’s cameras an’ see ef yeh can do a repeat performance.”

She turned and drapped her arms over his shoulders. “And why exactly do you want a video of us having sex?”

“So I can watch it?” He said obviously. “Dunno when I’ll be seein’ yeh after Thursday. ‘M gonna get lonely. I need sumfin to get off to.”

Jaime was struck strangely by this. She hadn’t really considered the idea of distance and fidelity. From his words, she could infer that it was his full intention to remain faithful. This sent a wave of endearment across her. It was always the weirdest things that made her fond of him. His tattoos, even the moronic ones. His foul mouth. The way he wanted her to make porn. All of it was just right, maybe even perfect. She couldn’t even remember why she would doubt their relationship at all. And furthermore, she realized that one top of his personality, something had been added.

Oliver noticed her strangled confusion. “Jaime? Wha’sa matter?”

“I… I guess she was right…”

“Wha?”

“Nadine. She said that… that we’d changed. As people, we’d changed. And I didn’t really see it. Not until now.” She tilted her head to the side, looking at him curiously, like it was the first time she was seeing him.

“Changed?”

“Hmm, yeah. I think maybe it’s easier to see in you… And to see why. It’s because you really care about me.”

Still a bit bemused, he nodded. “Aye, I do… a lot.”

“Just think about it… a year ago, did you think you’d want a girlfriend, or whatever I am to you…”

“Well, no,” he answered truthfully.

“You were perfectly fine with a new girl every night.”

“Aye.” He understood then what she was getting at.

“But now…” She didn’t finish the thought. She didn’t know how to.

“Now, ‘s only you tha’ I want,” he completed the idea for her, wrapping himself around her affectionately.

She remained very still in his arms. In a breathy voice, she said “I’m sorry.”

Puzzled, he replied “What for?”

“I… didn’t really consider all this. I like you how you are—how you were.” She corrected. Her eyes were blank and distant; it was a frightening look. “I didn’t mean to put a damper on your lifestyle.”

“Yer sayin’ it like it’s a bad fing I’m not chasin’ every skirt I see…”

“But that’s who you are. I would never ask you to change… That wasn’t my intention, to change you. I didn’t mean to…”

“I know tha’.” She stared at her in sheer confusion. “Jaime, I like fings this way.” Thought it caused him frequent distress, being with her made him happy. “I like who I am wiff yeh.”

“But—“

He pressed his hand over her mouth. “There ain’t any buts.” He looked at her eyes again. Now more than ever, they were full of worry. She was honestly concerned that he thought this was a bad thing. “Fer such a smart lass, yeh can be right daft, love.”

She lifted her hand to pull his away from her lips. He let her but locked his fingers around hers. “I just… don’t understand how. How can you go from happily whorish to nice guy? How can I be so closed off and still want to tell you every one of my secrets? It doesn’t make sense.”

But it made perfect sense to Oliver, for he had already accepted the fact that he was irreversibly in love with her. This explanation, love, made sense of even the most ridiculous of situations. All the confusion and conflict didn’t matter because he loved her. But could he say that to her now? The thought of her rejection the first time still stung. He’d put himself out there only to be shot down. He didn’t know if he could do that again. His pride already dwindled.

“See,” Jaime said. “You don’t even understand it.”

“That doesn’ mean it’s bad,” he stated. He watched her mouth press closed tightly and her forehead crease. He let go of her hand and moved his fingers to her face where he pushed hair away from her eyes once more. Her worried expression lessened and she pulled her arms around him closer, laying her cheek against his neck.

“It’s just… she hummed, her lips blowing warm breath across his skin, before deciding on the word “weird.”

--

MySpace Bulletin

“Gossip Gossip Gossip
Mostly, I ignore all those trashy sites that are made for invading people’s privacy. I think that it’s creepy to want to know who is fucking who or dating whoever or doing whatever. If you’re interested in that stuff, then you probably don’t have much of a life away from your computer. And that’s sad.
But a few of my friends have pointed me in the direction of certain online communities where I’ve been a topic of discussion. Most of the stuff people say makes me laugh. I’m not sure why people think they are so informed on MY life. They’re not. Just to clear that up.
To clear up another thing: I’m not pregnant. Yeah, I quit partying as much but because I felt like it was time. Why would someone even start a rumor like that? It’s just fucking weird.
Oh one more bit: It’s not your business who I’m dating, if I’m dating anyone at all. So piss off.
Alright, that’s all. Go tell the world what a bitch I am.
xo Jaime”
--

She has seen it a hundred million times in a hundred million different locations and with hundred million conditions. It had never grown boring to her. It still exuded raw energy and excitement. At times, it verged on unbelievably sexy. Jaime never got tired of watching Oliver perform. But today, something felt different in her and she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was.

It was the final day of Warped and Bring Me the Horizon had one of the very last time slots on the mainstage, just an hour shy of the final time. The side of the stage was positively littered with people. Shoulders were squished tightly against either side of Jaime and there were people behind her. It was almost like watching from the crowd there were so many onlookers. It was mostly people she knew, friends from other bands, members of her own plus several techs and tour managers. But there were also the perfectly put together girls that hung around the bands, graced with all access wristbands by whatever sap was willing to hand it out that day. Jaime always wondered how these ladies could remain so sweat-free with their make up perfectly intact when it was practically hot enough to melt flesh. Some weird groupie magic, she guessed. At any rate, Jaime didn’t mind them much. She was aware of their eyes never leaving Oliver; but she couldn’t blame them. He looked amazing.

For the final song, he was going utterly insane, putting more into this performance than usual. Jaime had no doubt that he would draw blood from his fists, for he was pounding them aggressively against the stage while he was on his knees. Jaime also knew the reaction the sight of blood would draw from the crowd; they would match Oliver’s insanity. It would be mayhem. Jaime couldn’t wait.

Jaime laughed when Nicholls climbed out from behind his kit, let her bandmate Sean take over his place at the drums and immediately ran and dove into the crowd, arms and legs flailing as he flew. He disappeared into the sea of bodies just as Kean leaped from an amp, not landing quite so elegantly. He tripped a bit, stumbling and bumping into Lee but soon catching his footing. Oliver’s mic chord was circled around his neck as he lay on his back and sure enough, his knuckles were cracked open and beginning to seep blood.
This atmosphere was her home. This life, these people, including every person in the crowd, everything. The pieces fell together into the perfectly finished puzzle of her world. Just then, everything made sense to her. The topper to this ideal moment was Sheep abruptly handing her a microphone and pushing her towards the stage. She had expected this. Because they had wanted as much chaos on stage for the final show as possible. Jaime guaranteed a delightful bit of chaos no matter what.

Oli noticed Jaime jumping on stage from where he was on his back. Her tiny frame did not stop her from seeming larger than life. Immediately her presence was known. She was clapping her hand against her thigh in time to the chugging on Kean’s bass right before she burst in with lyrics Oliver had just about forgotten in the haze of her arrival. Oliver wiped the back of his hand across his cheek, smearing some of the blood from his knuckles over his face, and stood up just in time to be passed by two blurs mimicking Nicholls’ actions and taking flying dives from the stage into the crowd. Jaime identified them briefly as a couple of the band guys that had been standing sidestage with her.

They had achieved sufficient mayhem by the end of the song. Several extra people had come on stage just as several had jumped from it. Jaime grabbed Oliver’s wrist and pulled him closer to him, leaning in and standing on her toes to lick his cheek in the spot where he had wiped the blood from his hands. He barely got a chance to register this act before she released him, blood on her lip, and dropped the mic to the ground. With the microphone out of her hand, she followed her friends into the audience, executing a graceful leap and efficiently ushering in the end of the set.

Oliver didn’t see Jaime again until after he had gone backstage. He was pulling his t-shirt off over his head and beginning to towel the moisture from his forehead when she appeared by his side, sweaty and out of breath. “Damn,” she mumbled. “Nice set.”

“Fanks.” He smiled down at her and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Tha’ were a sick stunt yeh pulled out there.”

“Which one? The face-licking or my agile stage diving?”

“Both, actually.”

“Thanks, I thought so too.” She put a hand on her on of her hips, standing proudly.

He sat the towel down and picked up his spare shirt, tugging it on. When he was finished, he noticed that she was looking at him oddly. She was chewing the side of her lip, something he knew was a measure of her anxiety, and her eyes had darkened. “Do I ‘ave somefin on my face?” He asked, using a playful tactic to find out what was wrong.

She nodded slowly. “Yeah, you’ve got blood on you but it’s cute. Keep it.”

“Blood’s cute?”

“On you it is,” she said sweetly, slipping an arm around his waist and swiftly kissing his mouth.

They started walking towards the buses, holding onto one another and encountering many friends on the way. The air was tense and somewhat sat. Everyone was saying goodbye, waving and giving hugs and kisses. It reminded Jaime of the end of a school year when she was younger. You knew you would see these people again, but were unsure of how it would be when you did. Just like in elementary school, it wouldn’t be the same the following year. Jaime had grown used to this end-of-tour feeling. It was always kind of unpleasant but this end was taking the prize for the worst it had ever been.

Her eyes gave him a brief side glance. “I’m going to miss this, you know.”

“Miss wha?”

“All of this.” She let her eyes wander around the area but they fell on him and stayed there, sharply studying him. There was something about this look that was asking a question, or at the very least wanting an answer.

“Warped? Aye…” But he knew she meant something different. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t just let her tell him what it was she really missed; maybe because then it made it real. It made things harder, heavier. She just shook her head and pressed her lips to his neck. She had something to say, that was clear but her mouth was pressed into a thin and quite silent line. They could both feel something weighty resting between them. It was a devastating sort of feeling, one of those painful sensations. Just as he was about to speak once more, she beat him to it.

“Oliver?”

“Eh?”

“This is hard.” A flat statement. She did not go into any more detail or explanation, leaving it at that for the moment.

“Wha?”

“This is hard,” she repeated, taking a deep breath and decided elaboration would be necessary even if she wished it wasn’t. “Would you understand if I said that it’s never been like this? I’ve never…” But no words seemed to make the right amount of sense.

“I know,” he said simply, nodding. “Me either.”

“And you get that I don’t want it to be a big deal?”

“Aye.”

Then she kept talking, in a rambling manner that was becoming such a frequent occurrence that it was embarrassing. “But at the same time I do want it to be a big deal. I’m not the most romantic of people, you know that. I think that stuff can be kind of lame and all that ‘where do we stand now’ bullshit and ‘what happens after this’ crap is definitely fucking lame. Then part of me really wants it to be like so Natalie Portman and Zach Braff in Garden State, all sappy and tears and longing. Which is fucking gross because I shouldn’t even admit to having seen that movie let alone liking because it probably fucks with my credibility or some shit like that. But it already feels that intense to me. Like I don’t know, what’s a good word for it? Like things are so serious? And I don’t do serious. And I don’t do goodbyes very well. What’s worse is that now I really don’t want to say goodbye. Sometimes goodbyes can be relieving but right now it’s just painful and I want something to make it less like that. And more fucking tolerable. I don’t even know what would help.” Her teeth clamped down on her thick bottom lip and she huffed a sigh.

“Would kissin’ yeh help?” He didn't have a better solution.

A small smirk flashed across her face. “Maybe.”

He took her face in between both of his hands and she tilted her head back, looking at him with green-brown eyes that made him so crazy. He just stared for a minute and watched as her cheeks turned pinker than normal, a blush. He liked this reaction; it made him think that he was doing something right. She closed her eyes, like a teenager waiting for their first kiss. He couldn’t resist then; he was unable to draw it out much more. His lips moved across hers slowly at first, softly. Her arms wrapped tighter around his middle, pulling him as close to her as possible. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, goosebumps spread across her arms and an obtrusive knot welled in her throat.

He’d kissed her like this only once before. The way he was taking it time, working up a marvelous tension, recalled the second day of Bamboozle that year. The day when she couldn’t reciprocate the most important thing he’d ever said to her. He’d kissed her like this then, just a moment before his confession. With this kiss, the kind that could negate anything terrible, the apocalypse included, Jaime would have been able to take anything he said. If he said he loved her then, there would be no way she could not accept it, not believe it. And she would not care to deny her own affection for him.

But the opportunity did not present itself.

Instead, one of the white sweat towels was tossed directly at them. “Oy! Get a room!” Someone called, breaking them apart. Naturally, it was Lee.

Oliver just shook his head. “Can't yeh see I’m busy ‘ere, yeh bloody wanker.”

“Well,” Lee said. “There’s a bottle o’ Jager tha’s got our name on it. Yeh’ve got all night ta molest Jaime. But it’s nearly nine and ’m not even buzzed.”

Oliver looked at Jaime apologetically. But she grinned. “You better get on it!” She told them both. “It’s a travesty if you aren’t wasted by ten.”