Selfish Machines

I know no one understood why I kept up my weird sort of relationship with Tom but after a while it stopped bothering me. But even still, if I had a dollar for every time someone told me I was being stupid I would probably be a very rich person. I mean, I did realize most of the time I was being dumb with Tom. I knew he used me. But I let him. So I guess it was kinda okay then. I just never cared enough to do anything about it. And they just didn't understand. No one did. And no one ever would. But I understood their concern, I really did. And I always tried my best to make people understand, but it always worked to no avail.

But then again, I was never one to try and make other people happy when it came to my life decisions.

"You know he's just using ya, right?" Dan asked as we drove to the next venue.

"You know if I wanted to I could kick you in the balls right now, right?" I mocked him, not even bothering to look up from the book I was reading. Dan was standing right in front of me, his hands on his hips and a smirk on his face. Bobby was sitting on the couch opposite from me grinning at the whole situation.

"You would never," he said knowingly. Just as quickly as the words left his lips, I brought my leg up quickly and swiftly, stopping just below his balls, sending him to the ground screaming like a little girl.

"OH GOD NO!" He yelled, holding his crotch.

"I didn't even hit you," I rolled my eyes.

"Ya coulda seriously scarified the integrity of my future children!"

I cocked an eyebrow at him and Bobby laughed loudly. "Who do ya fhink ya are?" He gasped out in-between laughter. "Ya sound like a right idiot saying that stuff."

"Why can't you jus' stop fuckin' him?" Dan asked, completely ignoring Bobby's remarks. I finally put the book down in my lap and sighed as I gave him my full attention.

"You think it's so fucking easy, don't you Dan?" I asked.

"Yeah," he shrugged. I smiled at him and stood up in front of him.

"That's why you're single," I said in a low voice as I patted his shoulder and walked past him.

The reason it was so easy for everyone to judge my situation was because they weren't the ones in it.

How many times have you had a friend you knew was being completely stupid in a relationship but they couldn't see it? How many times has something been so blatantly obvious to you but it just goes right over their heads? How many times have you secretly hoped for the moment where you could say 'I told you so'? It's so fucking easy for everyone else to judge you and tell you what's wrong or what's right when their emotions aren't involved. Because emotions are the very things that fuck everything up. Emotions are the things that keep you up at night. Emotions are the thing that will make you over-analyze the most simple of situations. Emotions are the things that make us feel on top of the fucking world, and the things that make us want to die.

But it was weird because most of the time I was pretty apathetic about everything. I had this strange ability to completely shut myself down emotionally whenever something intense happened. When my mother told me on my 14th birthday that she didn't know who my real father was I just shrugged. When my mom brought home guy after guy, fucked them for drugs, and then stayed high for a week, it was all just normal to me. When she finally got busted and went to jail I just watched her get put in handcuffs like I had seen it every day before that. When each of my grandparents died I didn't cry. When I found out Tom had lied to my face and stole my virginity, I couldn't even get upset about it because I couldn't feel a fucking thing.

It was odd, to say the least. But I suppose that was my way of dealing with things. And I knew it wasn't normal or healthy, but it was my routine. It was how I coped. And so that's why I let Tom use me, because every time he let me down it didn't hurt. Because I wouldn't let it. Because I didn't want to care. And for the most part, it worked.

So maybe all of my emotions weren't fully involved, but I did care about him. Because I felt all of the good things, and they were all wonderful. And I knew deep down I cared about him a lot more than I'd ever admit and I knew deep down he felt the same. But I pushed everything aside and he was just a dumb boy and we were destine to play this stupid little game forever.

And maybe I was afraid that no one else would ever want me like he seemed to. Maybe I was a little scared that if I cut things off with him I would end up old and alone. Because as much as I couldn't count on him for most everything else, I knew he would always be there.

"Ya wanna get wasted tonigh'?" A voice whispered to me from behind. I turned around quickly and smiled at Matt.

"Something different for you, huh Matthew?" I laughed lightly as I continued my walk to the venue.

"Well it'd be somefhin' different for you," he urged. "Yer like, super boring Gemma."

"I'm boring because I'm not always drunk or high like you?" I poked his chest. "I'm plenty fun."

"Yeah, but since I'm not willin' to ask Tom 'bout 'ow good ya are in bed wiffhout at least tryin' to find out on my own first, you'll 'ave to prove to me ofherwise," he smirked.

"And I can show this to you, how?" I laughed, flashing my pass to security and walking through the door and towards the back. Apparently there was some problem with the green room and I was totally not ready to deal with it.

"By partyin' wiff us tonigh'," he smiled. "Tom won't even be around, 'e's goin' out wiff Barmby, Tom, Vegan, and Tim," he added. I stopped walking and turned to face Matt who had a goofy smile of his own on his face, showing off his dimples rather perfectly.

Sighing I said, "Sure why not?"

"We're gonna get ya wasted," he nodded, grinning devilishly.

I rolled my eyes and watched as Matt walked away, no doubt constructing some sort of plan that would end up with my head in the toilet by the end of the night.

---

Matt kept true to his word and got me sufficiently wasted later that night. And I was actually having a good time. I never usually drank unless the boys forced me to or I was upset and I hated having a hangover but the boys were all keeping me well entertained. It might have been because Tom wasn't there but it probably wasn't. And besides, I always had a bad habit of getting completely obliterated when I actually did drink, so I really didn't even know which way was up by the end of the night.

Matt and I were sitting outside the bus passing a blunt between us as the night began to wind down. The rest of the boys were expected to be back soon so we could start the ride to the next venue and at that point we were really just waiting for them to get back, or as Matt said, "waiting for round two".

It was nice to have a moment of calm after everything that had gone down that night. Matt passed me the blunt and I took a nice slow hit, taking all of the sweet smoke into my lungs carefully.

"You know, you're like the only person who never nags me about Tom," I told him, the blunt burning slowly between my fingers.

He shrugged, "Don't bofher me none. You can do whateva ya want, I suppose."

"You don't think I'm being stupid though, do you?" I asked him softly.

"Love, I fhink ya can do whateva ya want," he said as I passed the blunt to his hand. We both turned to face each other then and he smiled, his dimples showing easily.

"Too bad he's not back," I sighed, letting my head fall back against the bus we were leaning on.

"Why?"

"Cause I'd probably fuck him right now," I smiled, turning my head to look at him.

"An' what's wrong wiff me?" He smirked, nudging me.

"Nothing," I shrugged as he passed the blunt back to me.

"I mean, we're bofh pretteh tanked..." he trailed off, glancing over at me.

"Everyone's pretty much passed out..." I glanced behind us.

It didn't take long for our lips to find each other’s in the most hungry fashion possible. The blunt fell out of my fingers and rolled on the ground as Matt pushed his way on top of me, his hands roaming all over me. He pulled me up then, our lips still attached as we both began to drunkenly stumble our way back to the bus. Matt was doing this because he was drunk and I was doing it because I was lonely. I guess it sort of evened out somehow. And besides, it was nice to feel so damn needed by someone.

But somewhere in-between me nearly tripping over Jona's shoes and us falling down into Matt's bunk I started to laugh.

"This is ridiculous," I giggled.

"Yeah, I'm pretteh tanked," he laughed. "I mean, I fhink yer gorgeous but there's no way I could sleep wiff ya. Tom's me best mate."

"I know," I groaned, leaning back on his pillow.

"I won't tell anyone," he laughed. "Do ya fhink we can just sleep now? Me 'ead is fuckin' poundin'."

"As long as you don't snore," I grinned. "Tom has a nasty habit of snoring after he drinks too much, you better not do the same."

"Only one way to find out, love," he yawned. He tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it to the end of the bunk. I rolled over to my side and curled up into the sheets, Matt's arm soon finding its way around my waist.

"Hey Matt?" I murmured a few moments later.

"Hmm?"

"Thanks for never freaking out about Tom. And for not freaking out now."

I really was thankful for Matt being well...Matt. He was always one of the most laid back, easy going people I had ever met. Nothing ever really bothered him and he always found something to laugh about. And I was

"Unless you stole me weed, I'd probably never freak out on ya."

----

I guess when I was still halfway wasted and Matt's mouth was attached to mine I hadn't realized how bad it would look for me to wake up in Matt's bunk without a shirt on. Especially when Matt was curled up next to me wearing only a pair of boxers.

Thankfully Matt was still in a state of dead sleep so I was able to maneuver myself out of his grip without waking him. My first stop was the coffee maker where I planned to drink a nice big cup of coffee and then take about eight Advil to numb my headache.

"Nice sex 'air."

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the cabinets carefully as I heard Tom's voice from behind me. Of course he was awake. And of course he thought I slept with Matt. And well, I guess I couldn't blame him. All evidence pointed to us fucking each other's brains out. But we hadn't. And it was gonna take a lot to convince Tom from thinking otherwise.
"It's called bed head," I corrected him, going back to making coffee.

"When you 'ave sex wiff someone 's called sex 'air, Gem. I know what it looks like."

I turned around to look at him only to realize how shitty he looked. I imagined he was just as hung over as I was though and since I hadn't looked at myself in a mirror yet I wasn't going to insult him out loud.

"I didn't sleep with him Tom," I sighed with a defeated shrug.

He didn't say anything, instead just going back to fiddling away on his laptop.

What I wanted to do was yell at him. Ask him why he was acting like he didn't care when I knew he did. Ask him why he wasn't yelling at me. But then I realized this was exactly how I acted all the time. Apathetic. Emotionless. Disenchanted. He was giving me a taste of my own medicine, I could tell. I knew he wanted to yell and scream and call me names, because that was what he was good at. I was the one who was good at not caring. It was killing him to do this.

And I knew it was bound to blow up in my face sooner or later.