Wasting Love

I woke up late the next morning with Izzy’s arm casually slung over me. I groaned as I got up and began to pick up and put on the clothes that I had been wearing last night. I mean,
sure he was nice and all but still prostitute. Sleep with people, get money and leave it was as simple as that, a short brief cycle that never included me staying with someone more than a night or two.

“Where are you going?” A voice called from behind me. Oh shit. I thought as I froze my hand mere inches away from the brass colored door knob, from my escape from Izzy’s place.

“I guess you got me,” I said turning and smiling sheepishly. “I was going out to get breakfast for us.” I lied as Izzy unconvinced face came into view.

“Liar,” he told me with a tired smile, how the hell could he be tired? He just fucking slept for five hours humph, men!

“Maybe I was lying.” I admitted after a moment as he rolled out of bed and put on a pair of boxers, followed by a pair of jeans and then running a hand through his messy hair.

“Maybe you were lying?” He questioned advancing on me. “Just maybe?” He asked again as he gently pushed me against the wall. “Do I not deserve a truthful answer?” He said as his lips brushed lightly against my neck.

“Maybe,” I repeated as I put my hands on Izzy’s chest and he placed his arms on either side of me. I closed my eyes and waited for a moment, nothing happened of course. With a sigh I opened my eyes again. “Come on Izzy let’s go.” I said. He lifted up his head and had a sexy smile on his face before shaking his head.

“Nu uh, not until you tell me where you were actually off to,” he said raising an eyebrow at me. “So what’s it gonna be? Stay here all day or tell me?” He asked.

“I was leaving, simple as that.” I answered flatly; I didn’t have time for games, especially with these stupid infuriating males. “Now may I go?” I asked.

“Nope,” Izzy answered plainly, “I knew you were leaving. What I wanted to know is why.” He said then glanced expectedly. My temper was beginning to rise; I mean why the hell was it any of his fucking business what the hell I did! I mean it’s not like he gave a shit about me and I didn’t give a shit about him. Lies. I thought to myself darkly, sure I didn’t give a shit about him . . . yet.

“Because I’m a fucking whore Izzy, because I fucking sleep with people every night that’s why I’m leaving!” I snapped at him, my voice rising. “I’m a fucking prostitute Izzy, and I probably have fucking AIDS by now, and I’m sorry, so god-damn sorry.” I said as I started to break down as the tears started to flow down the sides of my face, as I sniffled pitifully and tried to hold it back.

“Angel,” he said quietly, his face softening and his arms wrapping around me. “Angel, you don’t need to be sorry, I knew what you were before I slept with you. I’ve seen you walking around a lot, I knew, I just wanted you to say it.” He said as I buried my head in his chest and he stroked my hair softly. When he said my “name” I felt disgusted with myself, I felt disgusted with what I had done, with what I was, with who I am.

“D-d-don’t c-c-ca-call m-muh-me –t-th-that.” I said through the tears and the sobbing. “Muh-my name i-is-Ruh-Rox-Roxanne.” Izzy didn’t seem surprised that Angel wasn’t my real name; at that point in time I don’t think anything would have fazed him.

“Roxanne,” he whispered quietly. “A much better name then Angel,” he told me. I didn’t answer; I just let the tears flow.

“Here c’mon Rox, let’s go and get something to eat.” He said as I finally looked up and he wiped away a tear from my eye. Hearing someone call me Roxanne or Rox was a stab to the heart, I couldn’t remember the last time someone had called me that, other than Axl and Duff all those years ago. I didn’t answer because I was still sniffling, instead I nodded my head and Izzy put a comforting arm around my shoulders.

He led me out of his apartment complex which by day didn’t look any better than it had last night. It was on the shitty part of town, of course and looking like it was about to crumble to the ground any day now. It was made out of faded red brick and the hallways were off-white with dull green carpet littered with burn marks and stains. Obviously junkies had hung out in the hallway at one point or another. We walked down the stairs because neither of us trusted the elevator, the stairs creaked and groaned as we applied pressure to them. We chatted idly as we walked down and Izzy’s hand slowly moved from around my shoulder and before we walked out of the apartments we were hand in hand. Izzy talked about his band quite a bit and I listened to him, we stopped at a little run-down coffee shop and talked while I ate and he sipped on a coffee. His band sounded interesting, especially the way he described their singer.

“You’d love him, he’s a fucking idiot. Always twirling around and dancing on the stage like a moron and running his mouth! He’s an awesome dude most of the time ‘cept when he gets mad, then he’s a pain in the ass!” He chuckled as he told me, as if he was thinking about some memory he had of this mysterious singer, to tell you the truth he reminded me of Bill, the way that Izzy described him, especially the pain in the ass part!

“So when do I get to meet the rest of your band?” I asked him, and immediately he fell silent. I felt bad for bringing up, especially after he mentioned the singer. He probably thought I was trying to use him to get to the singer, and personally I don’t blame him if he thought that.

“Well, I duno, I mean they’re not really a big fan of us bringing our friends to the rehearsals and gigs.. .” He said slowly, I shrugged it off and let the band topic slide I’d meet his band, eventually, wait and see. “And plus I don’t want them stealing my girl!” He added at the end, I let out a laugh. Just like that me and Izzy were together.