Reason to Live

"Dave c'mon, that's bullshit," I argued on the phone.
"Her mind is set Audrey, there's nothing I can do," Dave said, sounding beat.
"You don't understand that Holly is the band, okay?"
"Every great band goes through lineup changes at some point. Hey, look at KISS. If Ace never left, Bruce wouldn't be in the band."
"That's not even close to what we're talking about here! This is easily fixed, all you have to do is give Holly what she wants, and she'll give you what you want! A successful band!"
"So you're saying I should do what that violent little whore says, simply because she threw a tantrum and smashed Billies face against a wall?", he asked, very annoyed.
"I'm saying if you let Holly write songs for a change and get a producer who hasn't got his head up Madonna's ass, we might have a unique hit. All these guys that come in and fuck up our songs are turning us into a squeaky clean pop band, and that's not what we are. We're not Bananarama or whatever. No wonder she wants to bail out on us!"
"This isn't about the band or the music. It's Billie, you know that," Dave said.
"Yeah, well as our manager, you should be fixing that. Manage us for a change! Make Holly an offer that she can't resist and she'll easily forget that Billie keeps slutting it up every five."
"Well, have you got any material?" he asked, smart-arse like.
"I've always got material!" I screamed in frustration. At this point, Bruce walked into the room, listening to me with concern. "I work my ass off writing songs, and they never get used! NEVER!"
"It's never what we're looking for..." Dave began to say.
"Because you're not looking for rock, you're a disco queen! I thought you were different Dave. You've changed. I don't know what Debbie sees in you," I said, slamming down the phone.

I pushed my face against the desk that I was sitting at and squealed. "Now you Know how I feel," Bruce said, watching me closely. I forgot he was even there with me. I looked at him, confused. "Eric and I always struggle to get our songs noticed."
" I don't care anymore. If they don't want my songs, I'll start my own band," I said, walking towards the studio where we showcased our guitars.
"Aud, you're tired," Bruce said, following after me.
"Yeah? So? I've gotta finish these songs, I don't care if I stay up all night," I said, determined.
"Oh man," Bruce said flopping onto a chair, yawning. "Want my help?"
"Nope. I gotta do this myself, but thanks," I smiled.
"Okay," he said, leaving.

About an hour later Bruce returned, not wasting time trying to talk to me. He picked me up and dragged me out the door. "What are you doing?" I asked, freaked out.
"You're going to bed," he said sternly.
"What? No? I can't," I argued.
"Yes, you can. You're stressing out again, and I don't want you fainting or throwing up. You're doctor said to take it easy, remember?"
"I'm not running a marathon or anything..."
"But you're stressing," he said, throwing me onto the bed. He wrestled me as I tried to get away.
"Don't!" I screamed, as he pinned me to the mattress by holding me down with his legs. I tried to move, but was stuck. He started laughing and I looked at him with disgust. My face was about an inch away from his.
"You know I'm not leaving until you fall asleep," he said, sounding proud of himself.
I sighed and gave up. "I hate you," I whispered. He started laughing.
"I know you don't mean that."

When I woke up the next morning, the house was silent, which was very unusual because there is almost always music playing. I was so comfortable, it was great. Then the phone began to ring, breaking the soothing silence. Knowing that Bruce must have been around somewhere, I thought I'd let him answer it, since he was out of bed.
I could hear him talking faintly, which was comforting to hear, although I couldn't exactly hear what it was that he was saying. I just closed my eyes and began to daydream.
“She's what?” I heard him yell, disturbing my peace. I very quickly snapped out of my laziness and jumped out of bed, wrapping a blanket around me because it was so cold. I could tell by the tone of his voice that very bad things were about to happen.
Suddenly he burst into the bedroom, causing me to squeal with surprise. “You're pregnant?” he yelled. I hadn't seen him this angry since we broke up. Most people are fooled by his adorable smile – he's actually got quite a temper when he's thrown into the wrong situation. Once he threw a foot pedal at Michael Bolton!
“Ummm... what makes you think that?” I asked cautiously and quietly. I felt like a child unsuccessfully trying to hide guilt.
“Some woman just called to apologize on behalf of your doctor, and she said that you have an ultrasound booked for next week. She said the word pregnancy like five times!”
“What? I didn't want an ultrasound!”, I said ignoring the situation as I pushed passed him. He grabbed my arm, stopping me from walking away.
“Audrey. Are you pregnant?” he asked again in an unusually high pitched voice. Poor guy was freaking out.
“Maybe....”, I said , just waiting for him to start yelling again. Sure enough he did.
“When did you plan on telling me! We're you just going to wait nine months and casually say “oh by the way Bruce I'm about to give birth to your child?"
“Calm down.... you're yelling," I said.
“Damn right I'm yelling!”
“ I don't even know for myself okay? The supermarket tests are positive, but the doctor said I wasn't! I'm stuck in pregnancy limbo!"
"You've taken tests and still haven't told me?"
"I just wanted to be one hundred percent sure before I said anything. I didn't want you to freak out... like you are now," I said sadly, as I stared at the floor.
“What the hell were you thinking going to a guy named Dr Pickle anyway?” he laughed in a dramatic change of mood. I shrugged. “How could you take the guy seriously?”
“He's a doctor," I sulked.
“Aw, come here," he said giving in as he wrapped his arms around me. “I love you... I'm just a little surprised. Quite a lot surprised actually.”
“I love you too," I whispered.
“If you are pregnant, I promise I'll be there for everything! Every ultra sound, doctor's appointment, birth class ... actually Eric can fill in for the classes," he joked. I punched his arm playfully. “I'll do what ever you want me to, even though this is your fault.”
“My fault?”, I asked offended.
“Yeah, if you weren't so irresistible," he teased as he kissed my neck.
“Oh, well if you could keep it in your pants ," I laughed, pushing him away.
"Do you think you're pregnant?" he asked. I nodded.
"Okay," he said taking a deep breath, trying to accept what I was telling him.
"But I've seen a doctor..."
"Let's go buy some tests, I gotta know," Bruce said, tugging at my arm.
"Can I get dressed first?" I asked, laughing.
"Sure," he said, leaving the room.

I was excited, but scared. If I was pregnant, I had no idea who the father was. That alone was enough the make me wish I had only seen Doctor Pickle.