You Can't Fight Fate

I cautiously entered her music room, not taking my eyes off Stevvie. She didn’t look drunk…just different. After the guys pointed out she was drunk, I could definitely tell. Her bright blue eyes were now a dull almost gray color and her pupils were dilated, her movement was slowed also.

Stevvie continued to paint, not noticing my entrance. I silently pulled up a stool and sat facing her.

“Ney Hick…or, the other way around I think,” she stated, confusing herself.

I smiled at her getting tongue-tied.

“So…you’re drunk…” I stated.

“Yup…disappointed?” she asked as she continued to paint.

I looked at her face, she had taken off all of her makeup and put her hair in a messy bun. She now had on a large pair of thick-rimmed glasses. She couldn’t have been too drunk to manage to do all of that.

“More like surprised…”I replied, “what are you painting?”

She dizzily got up from her seat and grabbed a bottle of blue paint. As she poured it on her palette, she got some on her hand and wiped it on her forehead by accident.

“Eh, I’m painting my cat…although I can’t find it,” she replied.

I held back laughter as she began to look around the room. Maybe she was drunker than I thought.

“Maybe because you don’t own a cat…” I stated.

She gave me a surprised look. “I don’t? That is SO sad. What about all the homeless cats? There’s so lonely!”

I failed to keep in my laughter at her meltdown about cats.

“Come sit down…paint,” I instructed her as I guided her to her seat.

“You’re soooo hot,” she cooed as I helped her sit down, “I am sooo drunk!”

Stevvie began to laugh at nothing, causing me and the guys to laugh also. I looked back at them as stood in the doorway enjoying the show Stevvie was putting on.

“So…I noticed you singing Twist of Fate, by Chasing Fate. You know that band?” I asked her.
Chasing Fate was a band from the late 80s/90s, they were my favorite band from that era even though they never actually got a record deal. You can find their authentic self-made tapes on eBay for hundreds or even thousands of dollars. Hollywood records was able to find and buy their original demo tape they sent into major labels and gave it to me as a present for the release of Nick Jonas and The Administration’s debut album. Ever since then, I listen to it almost everyday.

Todd Jameson and Chasing fate was our role model, Kevin spent almost a year and a half learning his guitar solos and I studied their writing style as if it was a subject in school. Joe loved the band’s attitude and show they put on stage. We’ve only seen poorly made home videos from friends who were fans but, you could tell they would have made it big. I only wish I could meet him and his band mates one day. I imagine it would be like when I met Elvis Costello. We came close to meeting them many times, but I guess it wasn’t our fate at the time. Recently, my dad and I were trying to get in touch with him, unsuccessfully.

“Huh…Nicholas…do you not understand? Iamdrunk. How the hell am I supposed to remember what I did fivetentwenty minutes ago?” she slurred.

“You know the song…” I began to hum the melody.

“They sat together in the park
As the evening sky grew dark,
She looked at him and he felt a spark tingle to his bones.
'Twas then he felt alone and wished that he'd gone straight
and watched out for a simple twist of fate.”

I continued to sing until Stevvie’s smooth voice joined in.

“They walked along by the old canal
A little confused, I remember well
And stopped into a strange hotel with a neon burnin' bright.
He felt the heat of the night hit him like a freight train
Moving with a simple twist of fate.” We both sang.

I grabbed one of her guitars off its stand and played along until the song was over.
Stevvie began to paint again, answering a question I asked or making a comment every few minutes. Drunken Stevvie was a lot more open than sober Stevvie.

“So, how did you find Chasing Fate?” I asked.

“Long story,” she replied simply. Drunken or not, she gave the familiar “don’t continue” tone of voice.

Her reaction to my question intrigued me; I thought maybe her drunken tongue wouldn’t mind answering so I pushed the subject.

“I’m guessing since you knew every lyric in that song you know them well?”

“More than you will ever know,” she muttered. I couldn’t tell if it was a loaded statement or not, but it interested me.

<->

I awoke abruptly at the obnoxious sound of my phone vibrating against my nightstand. It was the fourth time it went off in ten minutes.

“Damnit,” I muttered as I picked it up.

I really need to stop giving out my number to guys, it was pointless. I really wasn’t interested in them, I knew that I would feel guilty if I refused. They weren’t bad guys, or ugly even, I just wasn’t interested in them. (It could be that fact that I was falling for Nick.)

All of the texts from last night and this morning were from guys that weren’t my friends. They all said the same thing too.

“Hey, I’m just sitting here and I realized that I missed you…” or something along that line.
I groaned and threw my blackberry across my room.

Instead of getting a bang against the wall, I got a voice. Nick raised an eyebrow at his hand that caught my phone.

“If you’re mad about all the texts, wait till you hear your voicemails,” Nick stated as he put the phone on my dresser.

I groaned and pulled the covers over my head.

“What are you doing here?” I mumbled. I was expecting Jackie.

I felt Nick’s weight next to me as he sat down.

“Well, Jackie said she usually stays with you after your little “party days” but she had to drive up to her brother’s this morning so I sent her home,” he replied.

I grumbled as I snuggled into my pillow. Soon, I felt Nick’s hand stroke my hair.

I turned around to face him. He had a slight smile and his brown eyes sparkled, he had the prettiest shade of brown eyes.

“You, Ms. Jameson, have a lot of guys after you,” he muttered.

I glared up at him. “Blame my parents.”

He sighed and looked away.

“You’re not still mad about that night are you?” I asked as I sat up.

He turned to me, scoffed, and then he got up from his seat.

“I’m not a grudge holder Stevvie,” he replied, “but, I don’t like to be left in the dark. Can I at least get an explanation?”

“I thought I made it pretty clear…I just don’t date rock stars,” I replied.

He groaned loudly and ran his fingers through his hair, exposing a sliver of skin from underneath his white v-neck shirt. The image of his happy trail stuck in my head after that.

“I get that. But, you’re acting like you’ve been around so many rock stars,” he stated, “and if my assumptions are right, you should want to date me regardless of what I do.”

I crossed my arms out of a nervous habit. “Nicholas, don’t underestimate me. Also, not at all (yes, of course), liking someone is meaningless, (I really want to date you), plus, we just wouldn’t work out, (but, missing you when you’re gone would hurt too much).”

He got on his knees next to my bed and put my hands in his. I nervously tried to avoid his gaze, but Nick’s intense stare was just too much and I caved. His chocolate brown almond eyes looked into mine.

“Stevvie…there’s no poi-“he began, only to be interrupted by my phone vibrating once again.
Nick groaned and threw his hands up in defeat, his face hardened as he told whoever was on the phone that I wasn’t available right now.

He turned to me and shook his head. “Why don’t some guys get the picture, you’re not interested!” he complained, “You can’t go a day without getting asked out.”

I stood up and scoffed. “Not true.” I walked over to my vanity mirror and ran my hair through my fingers, embarrassed at my appearance.

Nick walked over to me and placed his hands on both sides of me, we both looked at each other through the mirror.

“It’s not like you can go a day without signing an autograph,” I muttered.

“Wanna bet?” he replied confidently.

I raised an eyebrow at him, unsure if he was serious. He copied me by raising an eyebrow also.

“Why not?” I finally stated.

“What’s the wager going to be?” he asked.

I gently moved Nick’s warm, muscular arm and headed towards my bathroom.

“Whoever gets asked first,” I decided, “you’re going to regret made this bet you know?”

Nick leaned against my dresser and raised an eyebrow. “I beg to differ.”