Caught Like A Fly

I spent two nights with my parents, and on both nights I hardly slept. Jacky and I talked on the phone for hours, taking turns trading stories about our childhood, high school and old friends. My ribs and stomach were sore from laughing so much, and I giggled to myself on the ride home. I hadn't had such a good conversation in a long time, not since before Connor and I started dating.

Guilt filled every empty space from the top of my head to the tips of my toes when I stepped into my apartment to see Connor lying in my bed, his back to me. I had been ignoring his calls and texts, and he probably knew that I had been talking to Jacky.

"Hey," I said, and he rolled over. "Miss me?" I put all of my things away in the closet and crawled into bed next to him.

"I'm in your bed, I think we can say I missed you," he said, his eyes barely open and a smile on his face. Maybe he didn't know I was talking to Jacky. Even though Connor got on my nerves, he really was gorgeous when the sun shone on him. "I didn't think you'd be back this soon."

"Neither did I," I said wryly, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Let's go get an afternoon coffee."

I needed to do start figuring myself out, because when I was with Connor, I didn't care to be with Jacky. When I was with Jacky, he could ask me to run away with him and I wouldn't give Connor a second thought.

Thankfully, Connor was used to my silence when coffee was involved.

* * *

The last two days have been amazing; we played our shows at Warped Tour in the evening, and then I would talk to Andy until we both nearly fell asleep on the phone. I felt like I was in high school again, and I couldn't have been happier. However, destiny or fate or whatever you want to call it, seemed to think that my happiness needed to be tested.

"Jacky?" said the quavering voice over the phone. It was barely five in the morning, and I didn't even open my eyes as I answered.

"Who is this?" I asked, and there was a nervous but thick laugh.

"Have you forgotten so quickly?" Marianne. Her voice was hurt, and had been crying. She only cried when she drank, and from what I'd been told by her friends, she had been doing a lot of that lately. "Jacky love, I am so sorry."

"Sorry for what?" I said, not amused. "You lied to me. Engaged to someone your dad picked? Really, Marianne? I'm not stupid."

"You're the one that left!" she cried, and fresh sobs came from her end. "You left and you aren't bloody coming back, that's it, isn't it?! You promised that you would never leave, Jacky! I did what you told me to and I followed my dream, but now look at us!"

"Marianne, calm down," I told her softly. "You knew I had to come to the United States. I asked you to come with me and you didn't."

"Maybe I've changed my mind," she whispered, and I shook my head.

"No you haven't."

"I have!" she shouted back. "I can't sit back and watch you forget about me with that sodding American girl!"

"Oh, I figured that's what this was about," I said, smiling at the mention of Andy, even in this mess.

"You did, did you?" she sniffed, her voice suddenly clear. "She's not even pretty, Jacky. And I heard she has a boyfriend."

"Any girl I talk to is ugly to you," I retorted. "Andy is beautiful and you know it."

"Let's skip this silly bickering, shall we? Take me back," she said, her voice delicate and making my heart ache.

"I can't," I mumbled, burying my face in my blanket. "You know I can't. Marianne, please. Stop." I was curled up in a ball, forcing myself to keep calm. It wasn't working; nothing ever worked with her.

"Jacky--"

"I have to go," I said in that same mumbling voice. I didn't say goodbye. I couldn't say goodbye to her. Not yet. I moved from my bed to one of the sofas in the middle of the bus and hid my face in my knees. Now is when I let the blanket of pain and misery drape over me and ravage my emotions until my eyes were dry.

* * *

Jacky was back in town. Unfortunately, I wasn't in Hollywood, and I wouldn't be for another month and a half. Don't get me wrong; touring is much more fun than sulking around my apartment, but I really wanted to see Jacky. I had promised him I would call him after tonight's show. He had been a little depressed for the last couple of weeks and wouldn't tell me why, so I was hoping that he would spill a little bit.

Connor had overheard me talking to Jacky and has been in a horrible mood ever since. He was always inches from being my first murder victim on tour, but now he was intolerable. I was a very stressed out person on tour, doubling as lead guitar and tour-mother, and if I wanted to talk to other sexy guitar players, I would fucking talk to Jacky Casey Vincent whenever the fuck I felt like it. When I told him that, all he did was sniff and walk away like a little girl. Or a pissed off boyfriend that had been writing a lot of angry lyrics lately.

Our show was over and he was still angry with me, but it made his performance even better. He hasn't been this mad at me in a while.

"CONNOR!" a chorus of screams from his fan girls greeted him with warm arms. He was sweaty and exhausted, but he always had energy for his fans; that was one thing I loved about him. I was the opposite; I was a horrible idol to have, but I was trying really hard on this tour to put the fans first. I found a group of guys that looked at me expectantly, except for the one in front that let out a short screech before slapping his hand over his mouth.

"Hey guys," I said, smiling. "I'm Andy."

"We know," piped up the shortest one. He still stood a good five inches above me. "You never come out with the rest of the band, so..." He took off his white shoe and presented it to me with a big, cheesy smile.

"Aw, dammit," I said, feeling in my pockets. No Sharpie.

"Here! This might work," said a guy in the back, handing me a tube of red lipstick.

"Dude, why do you have lipstick?"

"It was for my, uh, girlfriend, but you can have it," he said, putting it in my hand. "Is that story true?"

"What story?" I snapped, feeling my heart race.

"Well, I saw on the Falling in Reverse Tumblr that Jacky Vincent let you borrow his guitar and had you kiss it for him. With red lipstick." I was blushing like crazy.

"Uh..." I said, feeling short of breath. "Yeah, actually. I didn't think he told anybody."

"That should be like, your trademark!" exclaimed the guy who produced the lipstick.

"I don't know," I said, laughing shyly.

"Aw, come on!" It didn't take much thought or reason to make that decision.

"Fuck it, okay," I said, and they cheered as I put it on nice and thick and kissed the boy's shoe. "You could probably put some clear fingernail polish on there or something. Or get a picture."

After the boys were satisfied with their pictures and lipstick marks on their cheeks and random articles of clothing, I started wiping off the red with my sleeve. Those boys probably thought they were being clever, but all it did was make my lips want Jacky to clean them off instead of me.