Paint Me an Image

I stood at the airport at 9'oclock the next morning, yawning as I sipped from a plastic cup of coffee. Another held in my other hand for Andre. When his plane landed I was excited. When I saw him coming towards me I was ecstatic. But when he ran into me, knocking the coffee in my hands all over us, I was pissed.

"Andre Santana! Look what you did!" I hissed as he laughed, coffee dripping from the end of his shirt.

"Relax. We can go back to your place and clean up. Imogen, it's not a big deal," he grinned at me and slipped his hand into mine. I took this chance to get a good look at him. His hair was long, his eyes almost black. He was wearing ripped up jeans, boots, and a t'shirt that he had made for our band.

"His Name Is Treason is back together!" he shouted as we drove down the road in my car. All the windows rolled down and the radio cranked up.

I smiled at him and kept singing along with the radio, knowing that it would be so comfortable to have Dre with me. I wouldn't feel so strange in my own skin with Dre around. He made me feel like I could be anyone I want to be. He's always been there for me, just like Zacky and the guys. Andre was my piece of home away from home. He was the one who would walk to my dorm-room at night just to make sure my date went alright. And if it didn't he would crawl into bed with me and hold me as I slept.

"I love you, Andre," I murmured as I continued to drive. I said it just barely loud enough for him to hear me.

He grinned at my words and then spoke. "I love you, to Imogen. Remember that."

I smiled sincerely and began telling him about Matty. But he cut me off a minute into my speech.

"Wait? You're dating the guy you don't like?" he questioned, shocked. "Way to give in," he added.

I glared at him for a moment before turning my eyes back to the road as I explained. "No, Dre, that's Matt, I'm dating Matty." Dre had a look of comprehension on his face so I continued. "Matty is Zacky's little brother. He's 25, black hair, green eyes. Musically talented."

"Wait a minute," Andre interrupted, "You're dating a younger man?"

I shrugged with a smile. "Just by two years."

"Is he a real ass or something? I mean, if a guy was mean enough to you, then I'd think you'd over look the age thing. But last I knew, you don't date younger men."

I scoffed, "First of all, that was mean. I don't intentionally pick mean guys. Second of all, he's sweet and cute. He's a gentleman."

Andre rolled his eyes at me. "This isn't going to last long. You don't date nice guys."

"Oh shut up."

He smiled cockily. "Shutting up."

I sighed, "Finally."

The rest of the ride to my house, Andre spent making sad faces at me, trying to see if I'd give in and let him talk again. But I didn't. I was too busy thinking about how blunt he was when he said that Matty and I's relationship wouldn't last.

"Matty's just want I need, a nice guy who gives me the attention I need," I told Andre, after finally figuring out something to say.

Andre shook his head, his hair flying out around his head. "You don't like clingy."

"He's cute. He wants to spend time with me and get to know you."

"Pfft, cute," Andre laughed, "Don't you want a man who's sexy? Isn't that what you're always saying? You want a boyfriend, Image, not another little brother."

I rolled my eyes and tossed some of my hair over my shoulder as I pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex. "You don't even know him, Dre."

Dre shrugged with a playful smile. "He seems like a wuss."

I laughed, "You're horrible Andre Jesu Santana!" I shouted as I led him up to the elevator and up to the fourth floor.

"I know."

When we got to my apartment, I unlocked the door and told Andre to go in first so that I could see his reaction to my place. He grinned widely at the orange room and threw his bags onto the grey couch.

"Home sweet home. Where's my room?"

I chuckled and motioned to the couch. He stared at me with his jaw dropped. "The couch?"

I nodded, "I'd let you sleep in my room with me but I don't think my boyfriend would like that very much," I joked, as I continued onto the bedroom.

Andre followed me and spoke up once he realized that there was a chance he could be sleeping in an actual bed instead of my uncomfortable couch.

"I'm sorry, Imogen! Please, please, let me sleep with you!" he chuckled and I reached out and smacked him.

"You pervert."

He put a pout on his face and folded his hands together. "Please? I hate your couch."

"I guess so," I murmured as I dropped my cell phone and iPod down onto the bed.

Andre raced up and wrapped his arms around me in gratitude. I smiled and rested my head on his shoulder, my arms holding tightly onto him.

"So," he started, "When can I meet your friends?"

I shook my head as I pulled away from him. "How about you meet my parents first?"

He seemed giddy. "I get to meet the parents!"

I chuckled, "As a friend. It's not like high school when a girl takes her boyfriend home to her parents. You are going as my friend, obviously, and it's going to be very laid back. Oh, and ignore what ever my brothers say to you," I advised as I walked out into the living room to get his things. H grabbed them from my hands and carried them into my room by himself. This time I was following him.

"Yeah yeah," he groaned, "Got it."

I chuckled and patted him on the head, having to step on my tip-toes to actually reach the top of his head seeing as he was about 6"1 and I'm 5"6 and three quarters.

I told Dre that my parents wanted to go out to dinner tonight, as a family, and that he was invited. "Wait here," I demanded as I gathered nice clothing to wear to dinner and made my way to the bathroom to shower, leaving my clothes on the bed.

I locked the door and striped out of my coffee stained clothes and climbed into scolding hot shower. I groaned as my back cracked in multiple places. I washed my hair with my favorite apple smelling shampoo and conditioner and then got out as soon as possible so that Andre could get in and out and we could be on our way to the the Japanese restaurant downtown.

When I got into my room, in just a towel, Dre quickly slipped out with clothes in hand, and got into the shower to wash the stale coffee off of him as well. I got dressed into my favorite pair of jeans and a flowing shirt with netted sleeves.

Just as I was getting ready to curl the upper layer of my hair, Andre emerged dressed in black jeans and a blood red maroon button up. His hair was wet and wavy on his head. He was buttoning up the top button as he walked in.

"Looking good, Andre," I called in a faux flirty way.

He smirked at me. "Same to you, beautiful."

I finished my curls within the next 15 minutes and grabbed my cell and my iPod, and we were out the door and in the car, on our way to meet my parents, brothers, and Lake's wife and kids.