That Girl

Should I be crying? No, I'd done this to myself. I'd been doing this to Ryan all of this time, even if I might not have known, I had. It didn't matter that it wasn't intentional; I had. I should have known. I had to be completely idiotic to not have; I mean, Brendon had even noticed it and taken it upon himself to bring it up on a multitude of occasions, "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

"Actually, I beg to differ." Alex's voice came softly from the door. He closed it behind him softly, "You're far from stupid."

"What-."

"Set's over. I got first shower. Greico told me where you were," my breathing caught, "but I don't think that he knows that you were sad." Alex reassured, closing the door behind him. I let out a sigh of relief at the news, eyes following Alex closely as he grabbed the box of tissues off of the shelf, "He's a bit of a sap and hates seeing girls sad, so he probably wouldn't have left you by yourself."

He cracked a smile as he kneeled in front of my spot on the couch, grabbing a tissue and dabbing at my cheeks as I tried to even my breathing, still gasping from the violent sobs that I had just had and was now repressing, I managed, "Why are you doing this?"

"I'd like to think that we're friends."

"Really, why?" I said so quietly that it was almost a whisper. Alex frowned as he met my eyes.

"I don't like the way that Remembering Sunday went down. It didn't feel right."

"I sang it right, didn't I?" I crossed my arms across my chest, and whether that was a self-conscious or defensive gesture was really open to interpretation.

"Of course you did," He shook his head, brushing my bangs off of my nose, "your bangs are a bit too long, Stella. I can't see your eyes anymore."

"What?" He jolted, shaking his head quickly:

"Sorry, I just, I mean- does this have to do with Ryan?" I tensed.

"Um," I stuttered, flushing at the thought that I didn't have a lie cooked up and I was not about to admit to having just kissed Ryan. Or him kissing me. Whatever.

"Here," He grabbed another tissue and wiped at my bottom lip. My eyes widened and if Alex's face weren't so close to me, I would have bolted right then and there. Alex eyed me strangely before clarifying, "Your lipstick got smudged."

I let out a noise of acknowledgement, determinedly focusing my eyes on the far wall because suddenly the whole room had turned awkward.

Suddenly, "You wear the tricky stuff, don't you?" Alex wrinkled his nose before touching his tongue to the tissue and dabbing at my face with it again.

"What the hell?!" I jolted, mortified and bonking my forehead with his, "Damn it!" I hissed.

"Jesus, Stella." Alex ground out, clutching his forehead, "what was that?"

"'What was that?'!" I echoed incredulously in a screech, eyeing him as if he had just claimed to be a regeneration of the Doctor and then proved it, "You just put your saliva on a tissue and then touched my face with it."

"That's how you get rid of lipstick!" Alex yelled indignantly. I didn't question just how he knew that.

"You are not my brother, Alex. We're not related, and we'e not dating. You can't just put your spit on my face. Actually, not even a brother or a boyfriend of mine would ever be allowed to do that. It's gross."

"Stell-."

"Icky, Alex, you're fucking icky."

*.*.*

"Are you ever going to tell me about what happened at the show?" I let out a sigh and stopped throwing the stress ball against the wall for a moment before resuming. "You know, with Ryan?"

"Ryan..."

"Ross?!" Jeannie added on, humoring me even though it was quickly followed with a glare, "What happened? He left the show early and you booked it for the tissues in the green room. Don't think I didn't see everything."

"Well you obviously didn't, seeing as Jack must have had you a bit too preoccupied to be making those kinds of assumptions."

"I have eyes everywhere even when these ones are closed."

"That's the most poetic lie I think I've ever heard." I mused, letting out an inhuman noise of protest as the ball was snatched out of the air, "Hey!"

"Now, you tell me, before I go all chef Jeannie and smack you with a spatula, what happened with Ryan?"

"Nothing." I ground out

"Right, which is why he picked up and fled from the country-."

"They're playing a string of shows in the UK. Jetlag, Jeannie. Duh."

"Don't you duh me, Stella." Jeannie huffed, crossing her arms. "This isn't me being a pest and a prying friend. You need to talk about this, at least to someone, because we all can tell that something's affecting you. I know it's him, Stella."

"No you don't." I said stubbornly.

She gave me a withering glance, pursing her lips and cocking a hip, "Really?"

"Really." I assured her before letting out a sigh, "Can I have my ball back now?"

Jeannie's grip tightened on the stress ball as she pondered the pros and cons of returning my stress ball back to me. "If I give it back, will you finally talk about what happened with Ryan?"

"Finally?" I echoed, bristling, and craning my neck up from my position lying against the bed, "Jeannie, it may seem like I've been keeping this from you for quite some time, but the wound is still a bit to fresh to be poking at with the discussion stick, yeah? I really don't feel up to talking about it."

"Fine," she said archly, throwing the ball back to me, "talk to someone about it, okay?"

"I will." I responded tonelessly, going back to throwing the ball against the wall absently, stuck to my thoughts once again.

"And about that thing with Alex," Jeannie said, covering her mouth to muffle her snicker. The intense glare I sent he was enough to make her blanch visibly. I chucked the stress ball at her retreating form.

"NEVER SPEAK OF THAT AGAIN."