My Little Raspberry

Gwen’s eyes were glued to the television as the introduction to Total Request Live came up. She watched as they went through some music videos and then said something like “and after the break we have lead singer of Panic! At the Disco here with us to explain some less convenient matters, so stick around.” She picked up the phone quickly and dialled his number.

“Oh, thank God, Gwen, I need some friendly words right now.”

“You’ll be fine, don’t worry. You think they will try to slaughter you?”

“More or less. It’s weird being here without Ryan or Jon or Spence, and not for talking about the music.”

“You’re just doing this to feel better about yourself, remember that. She had no right whatsoever to say those things in what she wrote.”

“I know, I know, I know. I still have butterflies in my stomach. Fuck, I have to go. Are you watching?”

“I’m stuck to the TV. I’ll follow your every move.”

“Good. Thanks.”

She looked at the television again, seeing the show coming back from the commercial. He really had an awkward look upon his face when he went out, facing the screaming fans. He really wasn’t the eager Brendon he usually would be. He was polite to the people who wanted to meet him, and tried to smile, but he couldn’t be as alert as he would have wanted. Questions from the VJ’s was thrown at him, and like Brendon would do, he answered them as a attempt to a joke, and made the question disappear in laughter. He had really been planning it out like that. Gwen had to hold onto a pillow, in case she wanted to smack the persons with naïve and stupid questions. He made it though safe and sound, with an exhausted smile afterwards. She picked up the phone again.

“Fuck, fuck, shit, shit. How did I do?”

“It’s not such a big deal now as it was before at least.”

“Great to hear, but I was really near to lose my fucking mind at times. Like when that lady, man, she was really old, asked if the details about me in bed were true, and what really turned me on. What the fuck? Who asks that?”

“Some woman who doesn’t get it at home, and need some young, sexy star to imagine for herself when it actually happens.”

“It wasn’t necessary to go deep into that.”

“I’m sorry, but when are you coming home?”

“Sorry? What did you say? I didn’t hear you. Wait just a second. Oh hi, nice to meet you. Thank you, that feels good to hear. Who I’m on the phone with? Just a friend. Who should I sign it for? There you go.”

Gwen listened as Brendon continued talking to the presumable fan, who sounded like a young girl from where Gwen was. A few minutes later he could bring his attention to her again.

“Sorry it took so long.”

“I’m just a friend?”

“I couldn’t fucking make a joke about it and say that you were my lover. Not after this. She was twelve!”

“You could have said that I was your best friend.”

“We both know that isn’t true.”

“Fuck you!”

“What did you say before that?”

“When are you coming home to good ol’ Vegas?”

“As soon as I can. I don’t even want to spend the night in this godforsaken hole.”

“Not so loud that the fans can hear you.”

“Shit, I’m just so tired. I just want to come to your apartment and sit down, watch TV with you and talk about all of this shit that’s been going on.”

“Because that’s what best friends do.”

“I guess so. But expect me to be home late tonight, and I might want to crash at your place again.”

“My door is always open, sweetheart.”

“I appreciate it. You know I do love you, right?”

“Of course. But we both know how it would turn out if things went more sexual.” She could hear giggle (and not like a girl) on the other end.

“See you later. Kisses and hugs.”

Tonight would be boring, until Brendon showed up at least, and that would be late. She really didn’t know what to do with herself. The day had been fucked up since she woke up from a nightmare about the rape three weeks earlier, yet another night. She had been on her way of calling Betty, but changed her mind after seeing that the time was 4.30 in the morning, and she had no plans of waking someone up. Instead she just went up, sat down in the kitchen and started to read the book lying there on the table. A few hours later, Mary had found her there, still sitting and reading. The rest of the day she’d been worried about Brendon and his visit at TRL.

Right now, Mary was spending the night at her boyfriend’s place, leaving Gwen alone for the evening. Out of boredom, she considered sending some kind of message to Josh, and at last she did it, sending a text message, asking what he was doing. He had answered that he had just had eaten and wasn’t really doing much. She pondered again if she would invite him over. It took her some nerves, but she did, that was how she worked. He replied that he might have been able to come over later, if his in progress-plans screwed up. She was happy enough. When he called fifteen minutes later her heart skipped two times at least.

“Hi, are you dying from boredom or what?” he said, sounding like he usually did over the phone, ready to ramble of in his own words.

“Something like that. I mean, my friend is coming here as soon as he lands in Vegas, but that won’t be until really late, but if you want you can come over.”

“Uh, sure, my plans seemed to have fucked up, so I’ll come over in a few.”

“Great, I’m just gonna fresh myself up so I won’t scare the hell out of you.”

“I don’t think you will. Bye.”

“Great,” she sighed again after hanging up. He felt her hair and realised it looked like shit, but didn’t bother to wash it then, just twirl a scarf around her head, covering most of her hair. Twenty minutes later the door bell rang. When she opened the door she found him standing there, looking casual in the way he had dressed, and matching to how tall he was and his dark hair. He heart skipped yet again.

“Come in,” she said and smiled slightly. When he entered the room he looked kind of uncomfortable, and wasn’t sure what to do with himself. She quickly suggested that they would find a good movie to watch. It really was the best way of making someone feel comfortable and have a good time. She found that Sammy had taken home some movies and they both decided that they would try to watch some new weird war-movie. Thirty minutes into the movie he realized if would be more comfortable if he laid his head on her lap with a blanket as pillow. She twirled his hair between her fingers as she tried to focus on the movie, which was very, very hard. When half of the movie had passed they decided to take a break.

“This is the longest, most boring, most predictable movie I’ve ever seen,” he sighed and sat up.

“Tell me about it. He’ll die and the black dude will live to tell about how bad thing’s have been.”

“I suppose that’s the case.”

“What were the plans for tonight by the way?”

“Really nothing. Me and this gang were going to a cabin, but then someone got sick and the others just cancelled.”

“But you got a back-up plan.”

“Yes, kind of nice.”

“I hope so. However, are we watching this movie or what? I want to see if I’m right about the ending or not.”