The Right Girl

JOHN’S POV
For some reason unbeknownst to me, a feeling I had never felt before rushed throughout my whole entire body as I saw how upset Ashton was and she stomped away from me-- heartbreak. Is this what all of the girls I had dated and taken advantage of had felt when they realized I had never really had that impressive of feelings for them, that it was mostly all a well-constructed act? I felt horrible, but, as was the case with the rest of my failed relationships, I really had no one else to blame besides myself.

I turned back to the bar, sliding my fake ID I had acquired a while back to the bar tender. He slipped me a beer and I chugged it as the girl who I had been making out with-- whose name I had forgotten already-- stared at me. She licked her lips and said, “Are we going to continue, or what?”

I turned to stare at her and asked her, “Are you seriously asking me that? I just got dumped by my... girlfriend, or whatever we were, and you were the reason behind that. You really think I’m ready to keep making out with you?”

She shrugged. “A girl can dream, can’t she. You’re excellent.”

I rolled my eyes. “It doesn’t account for anything in a real relationship, and that’s why I believe a real relationship just isn’t for me. All I’ve ever known, all I’ve ever done, has all been something remotely player-ish, and I don’t think I can ever stop that, even if I really like the girl.”

The girl climbed onto my lap, slipping her arms around my waist as I took a chug of the new beer the bartender had placed in my hand. The girl looked down at me, smiling as her white teeth glistened in the blacklight near us. “If you’re not into a relationship, well, neither I am. We can hook up, and it won’t mean a thing-- no strings attached.”

I smiled, the beer hitting my system. I smiled as her hands went past me and pressed to the tile bar so she could hold herself up. Her lips pressed to mine, and her hips ground against mine. I quickly stood up, pulling her out to the back as we both giggled, like the teenagers we were, about to do the thing that all teenagers seemed to do these days. As we closed the door to my band’s van,

I could only wish she would somehow turn into Ashton.

Pressed her hands up on the tiles like, ah
Put her skirt in my hands and told me just watch
High heel walk through a spilled drink floor
Can't tell what I want, but I think it's more

ASHTON’S POV
As I exited from the bar where I had left John and his hoe, I wiped my eyes, making sure that my make-up wasn’t messed up. I checked my reflection while passing a store window-- still hot-- before heading to a bar where I knew the bar. He greeted me with a blunt nod of his head as I passed the line of people and slipped in, much to their chagrin. I needed a drink and a good time to get my mind off of John, now.

I went to the bar and told them my regular. I chugged one down, getting another as a handsome, slightly jock boy walked over to me. He put his arm up on the bar, his hand reaching over to gently rub up and down my arm. I smiled, stepping closer to him as he asked, “Would you like to dance, ami?”

His French accent surprised me, but excited me even further. I grinned widely, saying, “I’d love to,” before chugging down the rest of my drink and leaving the empty glass on the bar before following the Frenchman onto the dance floor. His body pressed against mine, his arms slipping around my waist. I ground my hips against his and he kissed my exposed neck, causing goosebumps to cover my flesh all the way from the tip of my head to the tip of my toes-- the unnamed boy had found my weak spot, and he knew it. He also knew how to use it to his advantage.

“What’s your name?” I yelled above the awful techno music raving in the background.

He pushed forward again, pressing his lips right up against my ear. He whispered, “Henri. And yours?”

“Ashton,” I managed to get out, only thanks to the fact that I had met thousands of extremely attractive, sexual, foreign boys who were interested in me. Henri wasn’t the first Frenchman I had ever had, and at least one of the ones I had had before were more attractive than he. But perhaps it was the heartbreak from what had happened with John, but it felt nice to be wanted. If I closed my eyes, I could even pretend like he the grip he had on me was John’s... but that was just wrong, and a little bit creepy.

“What do you think to us getting out of here? To be honest, this music is kind of beginning to give me headache, and I’d like to... get to know you better,” Henri said suggestively, giving me a smile that would suggest to a virgin that she wouldn’t be one by the end of the night.

I smiled, leaning up to press my lips up to his. He seemed surprised, but pressed back, not at all surprisingly a good kisser. I grinned and pulled away, taking him by the hand. He began to lead the way however, considering he actually knew where we were going. He got into his car and began driving, as we talked a bit in the car to get to know each other. We arrived at his house and the moment the front door was closed behind us, his lips were against me. He picked me up and carried me upstairs, our clothes lining the stair case.

We laid down in the bed, and my worst of the bad habits I had concocted in high school came out once again.

Welcome back Ashton the Whore.

With a twist in my glass, baby
And you whisper your name
Don't worry the sun don't concern me
The flame is a one night thing