Status: Discontinued
You Only Get One Shot Do Not Miss Your Chance to Blow
Twentysix
Finally I felt myself regaining consciousness. I could feel my eyes involuntarily open and I darted up out of bed. I had the worst dream ever. I was used to have really bad dreams when I was in high school. So bad I would be afraid to sleep, but they faded. Now ever since Jane called, I’ve been waking up more often from them.
This one had to have been one of the nastiest. The worst part is, I usually don’t remember what they are about, and even during the dream I have no idea what is going on. But this time, I had a little more memory of it. Regrettably the worse it is, the easier it is for me to remember.
This dream wasn’t like my usual ones. Yes, it still had weird creatures slash people slash I don’t know what, flying around me. But for the first time, Brendon was in the dream. But in the dream, he didn’t know who I was. I kept running towards him but every step I took closer, he only got further away.
I looked over at the clock, it was four thirteen.
I was already up and out of my bed, and I didn’t want to take the chance of falling back asleep and dream again of the drunken crazy creatures trying to kill me, so I went out to the dining table and pulled back the curtain to look out at the moon.
I don’t know how long I stood there. It may have only been a couple of minutes, but I couldn’t stop thinking about my dream. Why was it that all of a sudden Brendon was in my nightmares, and why hadn’t he popped up earlier?
Every time I remembered Brendon in the dream, I cringed. I hated that look he had given me; I had kept shouting at him but he just cocked his head and gave me a frightened look.
Maybe this dream meant something, not that the others didn’t, but they were more difficult to figure out, this one, this one seemed to be screaming at me. Like a warning of some sort, but I didn’t know what.
I love the feeling I get when I have an epiphany. If I’m so scared about Brendon leaving me, then maybe I should man up and be an actual girlfriend to him, I should be able to talk to him. But they only problem was, I don’t want him to leave me. And I knew just the way.
---
Living in Vegas meant stores were open 24/7. So at four forty-five in the morning I was walking down the street to pick out the supplies I would need for my project.
I was at Brendon’s house by five. I was happy Brendon conveniently always forgets to lock his door. And if that fails, he is stupid enough to actually hide his key under the door mat. When I opened the door, all his lights were on, the music was playing and when I went up stairs the TV was still on. Brendon had fallen asleep on the couch with his guitar in his hands.
I swiftly took the guitar from him and kissed his forehead, and then I went around the house, turning off all the lights, the TV and the two stereos that were playing.
When I got back downstairs, I left the front room’s light on. The sun was just starting to rise as I pulled out the blue tape and started taping up the wall.
Brendon’s POV
I woke up involuntarily to my phone vibrating. I got a text message, actually make it seven text messages. One from Em, Spencer, Kara, Ryan and two from Jon. And Hayley just texted me.
--is emily with you??--
I texted back
No? I just woke up
--did you rape her?!?!--
No! what the hell
--gtg to work. Txt me when you stop thrusting her--
Wtf?!
I rolled my eyes at her and got up off the couch. I ignored all the other text messages for later and went downstairs. I got to the bottom and I started rubbing the sleepiness out of my eyes and stepped off the stairs, but I ran into to something. I opened my eyes and saw that my kitchen chair was blocking the bottom of stairs. Along with the chair, my table, lamps, books, guitars, more chairs, nightstands, rugs and shelves. Pretty much my entire house was smashed up into a corner.
I was totally weirded out, I didn’t think I sleep walked. Then I considered Ryan or Jon playing a trick on me. I started climbing over various pieces of furniture and then saw the culprit.
Emily was in the kitchen with a paintbrush, painting my walls.
“What the fuck happened? I fall asleep and hell brakes loose!”
Emily jumped and the paintbrush fell out of her hand and landed in the gallon of paint, splattering paint everywhere. She crinkled her nose up, making an adorable face as the paint splattered up on her outfit.
I pulled her into a hug and kissed her, “Sorry.”
She laughed, “Hi.”
“No but seriously, now you’re all dirty!”
“What, this three dollar shirt? I’m so sad!” she said sarcastically. She looked hot, even in her paint clothes; a loose sweatshirt with holey jeans, dirty shoes and glasses. Her hair was pulled up but it was messy from all the painting she was doing and her makeup less face was smudged with plum colored paint, like the rest of her clothing.
“Can I ask what you are doing?”
“Painting!” she replied happily.
“Right. Can I ask why my house?”
“Oh, you don’t like it?” she asked looking back at the wall, self-consciously.
“No, no, I do, I just don’t get why so hasty!”
“Do I do it any other way?” she asked cockily as she handed me a paint roller. I rolled my eyes and dipped the roller in the plum purple and slapped her ass with it, I couldn’t resist.
“So,” I said brushing my hands off on my jeans after we finished with the kitchen, “how does it look?”
We both stepped back and observed our work. “I like it. It’s very… you-ish.”
“That’s good right?”
“Mmhmm!” she pecked my lips, rubbing her face on me to smear the paint onto mine.
“Tease!”
“Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it!” she mimicked me.
“So…” we were up in my TV room, painting it a dark red. “Why are we doing this again?”
She exhaled, and I could tell she was actually going to open up to me. I turned to her, but she kept painting. “Well, uh. Last night, I. Let’s just say, ‘someone’ shed some light on my situation for me?”
“Uh huh?”
“And well, I’m just trying to be a good girlfriend,” she confessed.
I put down my brush. “Em, you are a wonderful girlfriend,” I was so confused.
“No. I’m not. You were right at the beach, I don’t open up to you. It’s just, when we weren’t dating it was so much easier for me to open up to you because if you left, I wouldn’t be hurt as bad because I didn’t have connections. But then we started dating and I’ve started to realize that, that, hhhh…”
“Come on, you can tell me, Emmy.”
“Well, I mean, you’re famous, Bren. You, you travel all the time and girls are throwing themselves at you. And they are beautiful and funny and wonderful,” she gushed, “And, and, they could replace me,” she whispered out.
I was crestfallen, why would she think I would trade her for another girl? “Em--”
“No let me finish. And then I realized, you wouldn’t stay around for something that isn’t there for you. So I decided to try to open up to you, and be more… open. But I just couldn’t, because I didn’t have reassurance that you would be there when I was ready. And then I was sitting in your house alone one morning,” she was starting to ramble, “and I realized that you really aren’t ever home. I mean, your walls aren’t even painted! So I thought. I-I thought if I painted your walls, it would. I don’t know… reassure me? That you will be there for me? I don’t know… It sounds stupid, but hhhh…”
“That’s not stupid, Em.” I pulled her into a hug and kissed the side of her head. “It’s good. Whatever will help you. And besides, I really did need my walls painted!”
She laughed and flicked the paint off her brush at my face, it splattered all over me and my glasses, blurring my vision. So I ran at her, but instead of flinging my brush at her, I ran into the wet wall and got my entire side full of red paint. I tripped over the plastic on the ground and landed right on top of her. Now we were just covered in paint, couldn’t see and tangled in the plastic, but we were happy. This maybe could be a relationship I won’t mess up.
“Ew!” she spat.
“What?!”
“Your lips taste like gross paint!”
“Then I guess I’ll have to kiss you!”
“No! Ew! She ran away screaming.
I don’t know why, but I just felt my chest untangle a little. Maybe because I knew Emily really did want to make this work and sooner or later, hopefully sooner, and she would start heeling her deep wounds.
This one had to have been one of the nastiest. The worst part is, I usually don’t remember what they are about, and even during the dream I have no idea what is going on. But this time, I had a little more memory of it. Regrettably the worse it is, the easier it is for me to remember.
This dream wasn’t like my usual ones. Yes, it still had weird creatures slash people slash I don’t know what, flying around me. But for the first time, Brendon was in the dream. But in the dream, he didn’t know who I was. I kept running towards him but every step I took closer, he only got further away.
I looked over at the clock, it was four thirteen.
I was already up and out of my bed, and I didn’t want to take the chance of falling back asleep and dream again of the drunken crazy creatures trying to kill me, so I went out to the dining table and pulled back the curtain to look out at the moon.
I don’t know how long I stood there. It may have only been a couple of minutes, but I couldn’t stop thinking about my dream. Why was it that all of a sudden Brendon was in my nightmares, and why hadn’t he popped up earlier?
Every time I remembered Brendon in the dream, I cringed. I hated that look he had given me; I had kept shouting at him but he just cocked his head and gave me a frightened look.
Maybe this dream meant something, not that the others didn’t, but they were more difficult to figure out, this one, this one seemed to be screaming at me. Like a warning of some sort, but I didn’t know what.
I love the feeling I get when I have an epiphany. If I’m so scared about Brendon leaving me, then maybe I should man up and be an actual girlfriend to him, I should be able to talk to him. But they only problem was, I don’t want him to leave me. And I knew just the way.
---
Living in Vegas meant stores were open 24/7. So at four forty-five in the morning I was walking down the street to pick out the supplies I would need for my project.
I was at Brendon’s house by five. I was happy Brendon conveniently always forgets to lock his door. And if that fails, he is stupid enough to actually hide his key under the door mat. When I opened the door, all his lights were on, the music was playing and when I went up stairs the TV was still on. Brendon had fallen asleep on the couch with his guitar in his hands.
I swiftly took the guitar from him and kissed his forehead, and then I went around the house, turning off all the lights, the TV and the two stereos that were playing.
When I got back downstairs, I left the front room’s light on. The sun was just starting to rise as I pulled out the blue tape and started taping up the wall.
Brendon’s POV
I woke up involuntarily to my phone vibrating. I got a text message, actually make it seven text messages. One from Em, Spencer, Kara, Ryan and two from Jon. And Hayley just texted me.
--is emily with you??--
I texted back
No? I just woke up
--did you rape her?!?!--
No! what the hell
--gtg to work. Txt me when you stop thrusting her--
Wtf?!
I rolled my eyes at her and got up off the couch. I ignored all the other text messages for later and went downstairs. I got to the bottom and I started rubbing the sleepiness out of my eyes and stepped off the stairs, but I ran into to something. I opened my eyes and saw that my kitchen chair was blocking the bottom of stairs. Along with the chair, my table, lamps, books, guitars, more chairs, nightstands, rugs and shelves. Pretty much my entire house was smashed up into a corner.
I was totally weirded out, I didn’t think I sleep walked. Then I considered Ryan or Jon playing a trick on me. I started climbing over various pieces of furniture and then saw the culprit.
Emily was in the kitchen with a paintbrush, painting my walls.
“What the fuck happened? I fall asleep and hell brakes loose!”
Emily jumped and the paintbrush fell out of her hand and landed in the gallon of paint, splattering paint everywhere. She crinkled her nose up, making an adorable face as the paint splattered up on her outfit.
I pulled her into a hug and kissed her, “Sorry.”
She laughed, “Hi.”
“No but seriously, now you’re all dirty!”
“What, this three dollar shirt? I’m so sad!” she said sarcastically. She looked hot, even in her paint clothes; a loose sweatshirt with holey jeans, dirty shoes and glasses. Her hair was pulled up but it was messy from all the painting she was doing and her makeup less face was smudged with plum colored paint, like the rest of her clothing.
“Can I ask what you are doing?”
“Painting!” she replied happily.
“Right. Can I ask why my house?”
“Oh, you don’t like it?” she asked looking back at the wall, self-consciously.
“No, no, I do, I just don’t get why so hasty!”
“Do I do it any other way?” she asked cockily as she handed me a paint roller. I rolled my eyes and dipped the roller in the plum purple and slapped her ass with it, I couldn’t resist.
“So,” I said brushing my hands off on my jeans after we finished with the kitchen, “how does it look?”
We both stepped back and observed our work. “I like it. It’s very… you-ish.”
“That’s good right?”
“Mmhmm!” she pecked my lips, rubbing her face on me to smear the paint onto mine.
“Tease!”
“Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it!” she mimicked me.
“So…” we were up in my TV room, painting it a dark red. “Why are we doing this again?”
She exhaled, and I could tell she was actually going to open up to me. I turned to her, but she kept painting. “Well, uh. Last night, I. Let’s just say, ‘someone’ shed some light on my situation for me?”
“Uh huh?”
“And well, I’m just trying to be a good girlfriend,” she confessed.
I put down my brush. “Em, you are a wonderful girlfriend,” I was so confused.
“No. I’m not. You were right at the beach, I don’t open up to you. It’s just, when we weren’t dating it was so much easier for me to open up to you because if you left, I wouldn’t be hurt as bad because I didn’t have connections. But then we started dating and I’ve started to realize that, that, hhhh…”
“Come on, you can tell me, Emmy.”
“Well, I mean, you’re famous, Bren. You, you travel all the time and girls are throwing themselves at you. And they are beautiful and funny and wonderful,” she gushed, “And, and, they could replace me,” she whispered out.
I was crestfallen, why would she think I would trade her for another girl? “Em--”
“No let me finish. And then I realized, you wouldn’t stay around for something that isn’t there for you. So I decided to try to open up to you, and be more… open. But I just couldn’t, because I didn’t have reassurance that you would be there when I was ready. And then I was sitting in your house alone one morning,” she was starting to ramble, “and I realized that you really aren’t ever home. I mean, your walls aren’t even painted! So I thought. I-I thought if I painted your walls, it would. I don’t know… reassure me? That you will be there for me? I don’t know… It sounds stupid, but hhhh…”
“That’s not stupid, Em.” I pulled her into a hug and kissed the side of her head. “It’s good. Whatever will help you. And besides, I really did need my walls painted!”
She laughed and flicked the paint off her brush at my face, it splattered all over me and my glasses, blurring my vision. So I ran at her, but instead of flinging my brush at her, I ran into the wet wall and got my entire side full of red paint. I tripped over the plastic on the ground and landed right on top of her. Now we were just covered in paint, couldn’t see and tangled in the plastic, but we were happy. This maybe could be a relationship I won’t mess up.
“Ew!” she spat.
“What?!”
“Your lips taste like gross paint!”
“Then I guess I’ll have to kiss you!”
“No! Ew! She ran away screaming.
I don’t know why, but I just felt my chest untangle a little. Maybe because I knew Emily really did want to make this work and sooner or later, hopefully sooner, and she would start heeling her deep wounds.