Beautifully Broken
"So Mr. Wentz. Who are you?"
Ashlee wouldn’t tell me where she lived. Instead I met her at the local Starbucks. When I walked in she sat solo at a table just staring at her coffee. For once I didn’t feel like she had barriers up. She looked insecure and fragile as her fingers ran along the size of the grande cup. Her beauty made the dreary coffee shop seem a little brighter. Poor thing, she couldn’t blend in even if she tried.
I set my keys on the table startling her. She looked up, “Who are you?”
What? She couldn’t be serious. I started blankly at her.
“Who are you?” She repeated.
“I’m. Pete.” I said slowly. Maybe she had some kind of amnesia.
“No. Who are you?”
I smiled and sat down, “I’m Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the Third. I have an obsession with the movie Nightmare Before Christmas. I get depressed sometimes but doesn’t everyone? I write a lot of poetry…”
I paused to sit down “So, Ashlee Simpson, who are you?”
She sighed, “Aren’t you supposed to be taking me somewhere?”
I sensed her melancholy spirit, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. Everyone on this Hollywood scene is so fake.”
I placed her hand in mine and kissed it. “Not you.”
“Especially me” she said snatching it back.
Tension filled the atmosphere and we spent the next few minutes in awkward silence.
“Are you ready?”
The car ride was just as quiet. The 15 minute drive seemed to take much longer. Finally we pulled up to the Pouilly Fuisse Vineyard.
Ashlee raised her eyebrows, “Pete what exactly are we doing today?”
I chuckled, “Oh, you’ll see. You’ll see.”
As we exited the car a short portly man ran over to greet us.
“Mr. Wentz! Ah you made it! Oh and you’ve brought a little friend?”
“Of course Jacques. This,” I said turning towards her, “is Ashlee.”
Jacques grabbed Ashlee’s hand and kissed it. “Pleasure to meet you” he said while bowing.
I watched the blood rise to Ashlee’s cheeks as Jacques’ flattery rendered her speechless.
“Th—Th—Thank you” she stammered.
Jacques nodded. “Well right this way.” He began to hurry up the winding path.
I grabbed Ashlee’s hand and smiled as she reluctantly squeezed it. I led the way up the winding road. As the path ended we reached a little hut. Upon entering we found ourselves in a large dimly lit room. In the center of the gold room was a small table with two chairs. I steered Ashlee towards her chair and pulled it out for her. Once we were both seated Jacques made his way to the table.
“Well to start off this wine tasting tour we have Canale Reserve Merlot from Argentina.”
He left the bottle on the table and returned outside.
“Do you drink a lot of wine?” I asked while pouring our glasses.
“No but I should. I like it better than beer.”
Ashlee sipped the wine, “Bleh! It’s too sweet.”
“Really? This one is perfect.”
Jacques came over and attempted to help Ashlee find one she liked. She had one glass after another with still no luck.
Finally Ashlee threw her head on the table and began to giggle. “Igiveup” she slurred.
Jacques walked over to us, stopping short as his eyes fell upon a slumped Ashlee.
I chuckled as I looked at her eyes closed, head down, completely oblivious to us, laughing in her own little world.
“Would you like to make your own wine?”
I looked at drunk Ashlee and was about to reject the offer but she popped up and agreed.
Jacques smiled, “Perfect! I’ll get everything set up”
As he left I sighed, “Ashlee do you really want to do this”
“Istillhaven’tfoundmyflavor”, she slurred without pausing to take a breath while absentmindedly playing with her hair.
I laughed. Even when she was inebriated she was still adorable.
We got up and I watched Ashlee stumble.
Laughing, I asked, “Can you even walk in a straight line?”
“OF COURSE I CAN” she yelled and began to try to walk without straying.
I watch as she stumbled. I quickly caught her before she fell.
“Always the gentleman?”
“Of course” I said wrapping my arm around her.
We continued to walk outside until we me up with Jacques again.
“Sir and Madam please remove your shoes”
“Oooo!” Ashlee giggled as her bare feet touched the cold grapes.
“It’s all yours” Jaques waved over the area and walked away.
Ashlee turned to me. “You’re going down Wentz” she said tackling me.
My back hit the cold wet grapes. I growled playfully, “Oh, now you’re going to get it Miss”.
I rolled over onto all fours and began to crawl towards her slowly. She bit her lip as she used her hands to back away.
She slipped. I pounced. In an instant my body was straddling her torso. She smiled lazily, “So Mr. Wentz. Who are you?”
Maybe I was a little buzzed. Maybe the alcohol gave me confidence. Maybe the fact that she might not remember this in the morning was an incentive. I don’t know what it was but I stroked Ashlee’s hair and I kissed her. Deeply, strongly, passionately kissed her. I caressed my tongue gently over hers as she put her hand up my shirt.
She broke this kiss and whispered. “Pete, let’s go back to your place.”
I set my keys on the table startling her. She looked up, “Who are you?”
What? She couldn’t be serious. I started blankly at her.
“Who are you?” She repeated.
“I’m. Pete.” I said slowly. Maybe she had some kind of amnesia.
“No. Who are you?”
I smiled and sat down, “I’m Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the Third. I have an obsession with the movie Nightmare Before Christmas. I get depressed sometimes but doesn’t everyone? I write a lot of poetry…”
I paused to sit down “So, Ashlee Simpson, who are you?”
She sighed, “Aren’t you supposed to be taking me somewhere?”
I sensed her melancholy spirit, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. Everyone on this Hollywood scene is so fake.”
I placed her hand in mine and kissed it. “Not you.”
“Especially me” she said snatching it back.
Tension filled the atmosphere and we spent the next few minutes in awkward silence.
“Are you ready?”
The car ride was just as quiet. The 15 minute drive seemed to take much longer. Finally we pulled up to the Pouilly Fuisse Vineyard.
Ashlee raised her eyebrows, “Pete what exactly are we doing today?”
I chuckled, “Oh, you’ll see. You’ll see.”
As we exited the car a short portly man ran over to greet us.
“Mr. Wentz! Ah you made it! Oh and you’ve brought a little friend?”
“Of course Jacques. This,” I said turning towards her, “is Ashlee.”
Jacques grabbed Ashlee’s hand and kissed it. “Pleasure to meet you” he said while bowing.
I watched the blood rise to Ashlee’s cheeks as Jacques’ flattery rendered her speechless.
“Th—Th—Thank you” she stammered.
Jacques nodded. “Well right this way.” He began to hurry up the winding path.
I grabbed Ashlee’s hand and smiled as she reluctantly squeezed it. I led the way up the winding road. As the path ended we reached a little hut. Upon entering we found ourselves in a large dimly lit room. In the center of the gold room was a small table with two chairs. I steered Ashlee towards her chair and pulled it out for her. Once we were both seated Jacques made his way to the table.
“Well to start off this wine tasting tour we have Canale Reserve Merlot from Argentina.”
He left the bottle on the table and returned outside.
“Do you drink a lot of wine?” I asked while pouring our glasses.
“No but I should. I like it better than beer.”
Ashlee sipped the wine, “Bleh! It’s too sweet.”
“Really? This one is perfect.”
Jacques came over and attempted to help Ashlee find one she liked. She had one glass after another with still no luck.
Finally Ashlee threw her head on the table and began to giggle. “Igiveup” she slurred.
Jacques walked over to us, stopping short as his eyes fell upon a slumped Ashlee.
I chuckled as I looked at her eyes closed, head down, completely oblivious to us, laughing in her own little world.
“Would you like to make your own wine?”
I looked at drunk Ashlee and was about to reject the offer but she popped up and agreed.
Jacques smiled, “Perfect! I’ll get everything set up”
As he left I sighed, “Ashlee do you really want to do this”
“Istillhaven’tfoundmyflavor”, she slurred without pausing to take a breath while absentmindedly playing with her hair.
I laughed. Even when she was inebriated she was still adorable.
We got up and I watched Ashlee stumble.
Laughing, I asked, “Can you even walk in a straight line?”
“OF COURSE I CAN” she yelled and began to try to walk without straying.
I watch as she stumbled. I quickly caught her before she fell.
“Always the gentleman?”
“Of course” I said wrapping my arm around her.
We continued to walk outside until we me up with Jacques again.
“Sir and Madam please remove your shoes”
“Oooo!” Ashlee giggled as her bare feet touched the cold grapes.
“It’s all yours” Jaques waved over the area and walked away.
Ashlee turned to me. “You’re going down Wentz” she said tackling me.
My back hit the cold wet grapes. I growled playfully, “Oh, now you’re going to get it Miss”.
I rolled over onto all fours and began to crawl towards her slowly. She bit her lip as she used her hands to back away.
She slipped. I pounced. In an instant my body was straddling her torso. She smiled lazily, “So Mr. Wentz. Who are you?”
Maybe I was a little buzzed. Maybe the alcohol gave me confidence. Maybe the fact that she might not remember this in the morning was an incentive. I don’t know what it was but I stroked Ashlee’s hair and I kissed her. Deeply, strongly, passionately kissed her. I caressed my tongue gently over hers as she put her hand up my shirt.
She broke this kiss and whispered. “Pete, let’s go back to your place.”