Imperfect Love Song

My hand ran throw my hair for the umpteenth time. I was about to make a year with Stacy and I couldn't believe it. My scuffed up chucks pounded on the pavement in front of my house as I paced. My teeth clamped down on my lip ring while I thought of the gift I had gotten her, all hoped was that she would like it.

No one is quite sure how me and Stacy got together, let alone how we made it this far. We were from different planets. When I met her all I could think was, great, another blonde cheerleader. I am pretty sure when she met me she thought, oh look another rocker, band guy, just what this school need. Yet somehow we ended up dating, don't get me wrong, neither of us has changed a bit, only thing is now, we are in love.

I stopped pacing and turned to the sound of Stacy's "I'm-so-a-rich-daddy's-girl" car pulled up to the front of my house. When she stepped out I noted her tight bun, which meant one thing, she had just finished practice. Her pink chucks, I brought her, clashed her cheerleader uniform, which was yellow, and for some reason it turned me on.

"I am so sorry." She said, I could tell her lips were freshly glossed."Practice ran late." She kissed me, cherry my favorite.

"It's okay." I said in my slurred voice, she knows I went drinking with my band to celebrate. A bad habit that she had somehow grown to accept.

Her nose slightly cringed, which I thought was cute, as she inhaled my intoxicated scent. She exhaled and punched my arm, something she wouldn't have done six month ago, and laughed.

"You damn drunk." My heart filled with love for this pop princess, who thought all screamo was the same and thought black should only be worn to funerals.

"Baby," I leaned in close, my Alesana shirt pressed against her Lakefront High School top. "I have I told you how amazing you are."

Her baby pink lips curled into a perfect smile, "Not enough." She leaned her head against my chest, I knew I smelt like cigarettes and booze but she stayed there. I know she wanted to hear my heartbeat, she said she loved the sound. 'Its the music we all have in common.' She said after she had first listened to it.

I thought of our love, and how it would be some cray poppy song sung by a screamer and I chuckled. No matter how different we were we always had this in common. We loved fiercely, we kissed passionately, and best of all our hearts sang the same song.