Arrangements
Proud pessimist
Gerard and I had said goodbye to our families, and went on our merry way to Paris. The flight was long, and tiresome, but with Gerard there, I actually didn't mind it. He had put his arm around me and kept me close; still, I was waiting for the inevitable thing to tear us apart.
I was acting like a pessimist. I didn't want to us to be torn apart, but as I said it was inevitable. I wondered when and where it would happen. How terrible am I to think this? I could kick my own ass.
When we arrived, Gerard seemed in awe of all the places I had gotten accustomed to months before. He was beside himself at the shops and the art, and the people in the streets. He had laughed at how rude some of them where, saying they reminded him of the people in New York.
We went to the loft I still had under lease, and made ourselves at home. Gerard wondered around, picking up some of the unfinished pieces and looking them over. I felt a little nervous about him seeing the place; it wasn't exactly a home, because I didn't have a TV or a desktop computer, and I barely knew how to work my microwave oven.
"It's nice," he told me, "you got a coffee maker?"
I snapped my fingers, "Shit. I knew I forgot to buy something."
He chuckled, "It's alright, I really want to see the city after we wash and nap this jet lag off our bodies."
"I wanna nap first." I told him.
He smiled, "Whatever you say, Sugar, you're in charge."
I took Gerard to my bedroom, placed our bags at the end of the bed and stripped us of our clothing. I pulled him into my bed, wrapped my arms around him and shut my eyes. Gerard didn't seem to mind, he seemed lost, but his emotions seemed to be even. For a moment, my pessimistic side went away. I was at ease, and happy to be with Gerard.
Our trip was coming to an end, and a lot of my pessimist attitude went away. We had spent two weeks together, buying him a coffee maker and learning to use it. We went to art shows, galleries and even a fashion show. One thing, though, was that Gerard didn't like the attention I had gotten.
A lot of people liked my work, and they constantly wanted to talk to me. They asked for pictures and autographs, and the same for Gerard, but I didn't seem to mind. He seemed distant when people would talk and ask me questions, and he was nowhere to be found when I tried to introduce him to a few new people.
I didn't understand, I worried that maybe he was embarrassed to be scene with me. It hurt, just a little, that he wasn't around. People asked me about him, and I was truthful about how I felt about him. A lot just cooed and grinned, saying a congratulations about our marriage. I thanked them, then I would go off and find him; he was usually smoking or looking for coffee.
On our last night, this fashion designer Lucia, invited us to one of her many parties. I had hesitated to take her invite, but she was reluctant to let it slip through my fingers. I had agreed, agreed to bring Gerard as well.
"I can't go." He told me; he was sitting at the counter of the small kitchen.
"How come?" I asked softly; I didn't want to start a fight.
"I don't have anything to wear to a fancy party like that." He excused.
"We can go to the shops," I suggested happily, "I saw this dress I wanted to get myself. They have a few record stores down there, remember?"
Gerard looked at me hopelessly, "I don't want to go, Stormy."
I knew he was keeping himself from snapping at me.
"Oh...well, it's our last night, I don't want to leave you alone." I spoke airily.
"I'll be fine." He waved it off.
"Well...um, will you come with me to the shops? I really want to show you the dress I want." I smiled at him.
He looked uninterested, almost bored, "Stormy, I--"
He was cut off by my phone ringing. I frowned and went to get it from its charger in the living room.
"Hello?"
"Hey, how's the trip?" It was Dave.
"Wonderful," I said, "but, why are calling? Did I get more work?" I jested.
"Actually, yes you did." He snapped back at me.
I walked back to the kitchen, "Alright, what is it?"
"You are going to have a shared exhibit with James Jean, here in Los Angeles next month, and he wants to collaborate with you."
My eyes nearly bulged, "Shut the fuck up! Really? James Jean?"
Gerard raised his brow at me.
"Yes. A little birdie sold him one of your pieces."
"Oh, wow, I'm like...speechless. This is awesome."
"He can't wait to meet you. He wants to see you as soon as possible."
"Um, I'm going to be in LA in about a day, just set everything up." I courses my hair.
"Will do."
"Thanks, Dave."
"No problem, Stormy." I hung up my phone and grinned like an idiot.
"What?" Gerard said.
I squealed, "I'm going to be collaborating with James Jean!"
He raised a brow, "Who?"
My jaw dropped, "You don't know who James Jean is?"
He shook his head, "No."
"Hold on." I hurriedly went to my near empty bookshelf and grabbed one of my art books. I went back to the kitchen and gave it to him, "He and I share the same style of art. He uses deeper colors, while I use pastels, but everyone says we're similar. I think it's the whimsical way we draw."
Gerard opened the door, to the page I had sticky noted. He looked down at the page, reading about James. He looked up at me, then turned the page, "Oh."
"Oh?" I frowned, "What do you think? I love his work. He's not as gruesome as Pardee, but I think he's amazing."
Gerard just shrugged, "He's alright...I mean, you guys are the new school artist."
I didn't know what to make of Gerard's sudden mood change. I sighed slightly, "Uh, I'm gonna go into the city now." I closed the book, "Call me if you need anything."
Gerard knew I was upset, but he chose not to say anything. I walked away from him, grabbed my purse and headed out the door.
I bought the dress I had found. It was a salmon color, and frayed at the bottom with beads up the chest with a small design. I thought I looked nice when I tried it on, but I didn't feel like I looked any greater than I looked.
I returned back to the loft, and found Gerard sitting in a chair, drawing. He looked up at me once and then back down at his sketch pad. I went to the bedroom to get ready for the party; a was feeling a little more than upset that Gerard didn't even acknowledge me.
I slipped into the shower, not before I turned my iPod on to the small stereo I had bought for it. I sang along to David Bowie as I washed up. That is, until Gerard came in; he wasn't quiet, I heard him walk in, and sit on the toilet lid.
"What're you doing?" He asked over the music.
"I'm taking a shower." I muttered.
He turned the stereo off, "Stormy, I don't want you to be mad at me."
I rolled my eyes, washing my hair out, "Then stop doing things that make me mad at you."
"I don't want to go to that party."
"And you won't tell me why." I turned the shower off and pulled the curtain back, with no shame.
Gerard stared at me, "I have my reasons."
"That's not good enough for me." I stepped out of the shower and grabbed my towel.
"What do you wanna hear?" He stood as I wrapped my hair up.
"The truth." I glared at him, he frowned at me.
"I don't like the way these guys look at you. I don't like the way they know more about you than I do." He stared down at me.
"They made an effort, y'know. They aren't love interest, they aren't crushes, they like my work!" I felt my face burning.
"I know, but it fucking pisses me off." His jaw tightened, "I know it isn't your fault, it's mine."
"What exactly do you want, Gerard? What do you have to do to be happy?"
He leaned his head back, "I have to...get to know you better. And, I have to stop acting so damn jealous."
"And, you know I'd love to have you by my side, Gee." I took his hand, "Everyone ask about you...sometimes I feel like you're my imaginary friend."
He frowned, "I'm sorry, Stormy, I didn't know you want me around like that."
I smirked at him, "Yes, I love having you there with me...I kind of like showing you off."
He smiled at me, "So, I'm the trophy husband?"
I nodded, "Yes."
"Fine with me."
I kissed his jaw, "Are you going to come with me?"
He tugged at his lip, "Yeah...I'll come with you."
I held Gerard's hand as we entered the posh party. He had found an off white button up, and his hair was brushed back. I thought he looked gorgeous, and I didn't want to take my hands off of him.
"Hello, darling Stormy!" Lucia came at me with her pretty French accent. She kissed my cheeks, and gave me a small hug.
"Hello Lucia." I greeted back, "This is my husband, Gerard." I pulled Gerard beside me.
Gerard looked slightly nervous, "Hi."
Lucia kissed his cheek and hugged him, taking Gerard by surprise, "I'm so glad I've finally met you!"
He gave me a shocked look, "Uh...same here." I just giggled.
"Come," Lucia patted his shoulder, "Come meet everyone. You should be proud of Stormy here, she's quite the star here in our little village." Lucia shot me a winning smile; I smiled back.
"Thank you."
Gerard squeezed my hand, "I am proud of her."
I held back the beaming grin, my stomach filled with love bugs. I didn't know how to respond, other than to kiss his cheek.
"Well, come on then, love birds!"
Gerard and I followed Lucia into the little circle of people looking at one of my latest pieces. My heart soared as I kept repeating with Gerard had said, in my head. He's proud of me.
I was acting like a pessimist. I didn't want to us to be torn apart, but as I said it was inevitable. I wondered when and where it would happen. How terrible am I to think this? I could kick my own ass.
When we arrived, Gerard seemed in awe of all the places I had gotten accustomed to months before. He was beside himself at the shops and the art, and the people in the streets. He had laughed at how rude some of them where, saying they reminded him of the people in New York.
We went to the loft I still had under lease, and made ourselves at home. Gerard wondered around, picking up some of the unfinished pieces and looking them over. I felt a little nervous about him seeing the place; it wasn't exactly a home, because I didn't have a TV or a desktop computer, and I barely knew how to work my microwave oven.
"It's nice," he told me, "you got a coffee maker?"
I snapped my fingers, "Shit. I knew I forgot to buy something."
He chuckled, "It's alright, I really want to see the city after we wash and nap this jet lag off our bodies."
"I wanna nap first." I told him.
He smiled, "Whatever you say, Sugar, you're in charge."
I took Gerard to my bedroom, placed our bags at the end of the bed and stripped us of our clothing. I pulled him into my bed, wrapped my arms around him and shut my eyes. Gerard didn't seem to mind, he seemed lost, but his emotions seemed to be even. For a moment, my pessimistic side went away. I was at ease, and happy to be with Gerard.
*
Our trip was coming to an end, and a lot of my pessimist attitude went away. We had spent two weeks together, buying him a coffee maker and learning to use it. We went to art shows, galleries and even a fashion show. One thing, though, was that Gerard didn't like the attention I had gotten.
A lot of people liked my work, and they constantly wanted to talk to me. They asked for pictures and autographs, and the same for Gerard, but I didn't seem to mind. He seemed distant when people would talk and ask me questions, and he was nowhere to be found when I tried to introduce him to a few new people.
I didn't understand, I worried that maybe he was embarrassed to be scene with me. It hurt, just a little, that he wasn't around. People asked me about him, and I was truthful about how I felt about him. A lot just cooed and grinned, saying a congratulations about our marriage. I thanked them, then I would go off and find him; he was usually smoking or looking for coffee.
On our last night, this fashion designer Lucia, invited us to one of her many parties. I had hesitated to take her invite, but she was reluctant to let it slip through my fingers. I had agreed, agreed to bring Gerard as well.
"I can't go." He told me; he was sitting at the counter of the small kitchen.
"How come?" I asked softly; I didn't want to start a fight.
"I don't have anything to wear to a fancy party like that." He excused.
"We can go to the shops," I suggested happily, "I saw this dress I wanted to get myself. They have a few record stores down there, remember?"
Gerard looked at me hopelessly, "I don't want to go, Stormy."
I knew he was keeping himself from snapping at me.
"Oh...well, it's our last night, I don't want to leave you alone." I spoke airily.
"I'll be fine." He waved it off.
"Well...um, will you come with me to the shops? I really want to show you the dress I want." I smiled at him.
He looked uninterested, almost bored, "Stormy, I--"
He was cut off by my phone ringing. I frowned and went to get it from its charger in the living room.
"Hello?"
"Hey, how's the trip?" It was Dave.
"Wonderful," I said, "but, why are calling? Did I get more work?" I jested.
"Actually, yes you did." He snapped back at me.
I walked back to the kitchen, "Alright, what is it?"
"You are going to have a shared exhibit with James Jean, here in Los Angeles next month, and he wants to collaborate with you."
My eyes nearly bulged, "Shut the fuck up! Really? James Jean?"
Gerard raised his brow at me.
"Yes. A little birdie sold him one of your pieces."
"Oh, wow, I'm like...speechless. This is awesome."
"He can't wait to meet you. He wants to see you as soon as possible."
"Um, I'm going to be in LA in about a day, just set everything up." I courses my hair.
"Will do."
"Thanks, Dave."
"No problem, Stormy." I hung up my phone and grinned like an idiot.
"What?" Gerard said.
I squealed, "I'm going to be collaborating with James Jean!"
He raised a brow, "Who?"
My jaw dropped, "You don't know who James Jean is?"
He shook his head, "No."
"Hold on." I hurriedly went to my near empty bookshelf and grabbed one of my art books. I went back to the kitchen and gave it to him, "He and I share the same style of art. He uses deeper colors, while I use pastels, but everyone says we're similar. I think it's the whimsical way we draw."
Gerard opened the door, to the page I had sticky noted. He looked down at the page, reading about James. He looked up at me, then turned the page, "Oh."
"Oh?" I frowned, "What do you think? I love his work. He's not as gruesome as Pardee, but I think he's amazing."
Gerard just shrugged, "He's alright...I mean, you guys are the new school artist."
I didn't know what to make of Gerard's sudden mood change. I sighed slightly, "Uh, I'm gonna go into the city now." I closed the book, "Call me if you need anything."
Gerard knew I was upset, but he chose not to say anything. I walked away from him, grabbed my purse and headed out the door.
*
I bought the dress I had found. It was a salmon color, and frayed at the bottom with beads up the chest with a small design. I thought I looked nice when I tried it on, but I didn't feel like I looked any greater than I looked.
I returned back to the loft, and found Gerard sitting in a chair, drawing. He looked up at me once and then back down at his sketch pad. I went to the bedroom to get ready for the party; a was feeling a little more than upset that Gerard didn't even acknowledge me.
I slipped into the shower, not before I turned my iPod on to the small stereo I had bought for it. I sang along to David Bowie as I washed up. That is, until Gerard came in; he wasn't quiet, I heard him walk in, and sit on the toilet lid.
"What're you doing?" He asked over the music.
"I'm taking a shower." I muttered.
He turned the stereo off, "Stormy, I don't want you to be mad at me."
I rolled my eyes, washing my hair out, "Then stop doing things that make me mad at you."
"I don't want to go to that party."
"And you won't tell me why." I turned the shower off and pulled the curtain back, with no shame.
Gerard stared at me, "I have my reasons."
"That's not good enough for me." I stepped out of the shower and grabbed my towel.
"What do you wanna hear?" He stood as I wrapped my hair up.
"The truth." I glared at him, he frowned at me.
"I don't like the way these guys look at you. I don't like the way they know more about you than I do." He stared down at me.
"They made an effort, y'know. They aren't love interest, they aren't crushes, they like my work!" I felt my face burning.
"I know, but it fucking pisses me off." His jaw tightened, "I know it isn't your fault, it's mine."
"What exactly do you want, Gerard? What do you have to do to be happy?"
He leaned his head back, "I have to...get to know you better. And, I have to stop acting so damn jealous."
"And, you know I'd love to have you by my side, Gee." I took his hand, "Everyone ask about you...sometimes I feel like you're my imaginary friend."
He frowned, "I'm sorry, Stormy, I didn't know you want me around like that."
I smirked at him, "Yes, I love having you there with me...I kind of like showing you off."
He smiled at me, "So, I'm the trophy husband?"
I nodded, "Yes."
"Fine with me."
I kissed his jaw, "Are you going to come with me?"
He tugged at his lip, "Yeah...I'll come with you."
*
I held Gerard's hand as we entered the posh party. He had found an off white button up, and his hair was brushed back. I thought he looked gorgeous, and I didn't want to take my hands off of him.
"Hello, darling Stormy!" Lucia came at me with her pretty French accent. She kissed my cheeks, and gave me a small hug.
"Hello Lucia." I greeted back, "This is my husband, Gerard." I pulled Gerard beside me.
Gerard looked slightly nervous, "Hi."
Lucia kissed his cheek and hugged him, taking Gerard by surprise, "I'm so glad I've finally met you!"
He gave me a shocked look, "Uh...same here." I just giggled.
"Come," Lucia patted his shoulder, "Come meet everyone. You should be proud of Stormy here, she's quite the star here in our little village." Lucia shot me a winning smile; I smiled back.
"Thank you."
Gerard squeezed my hand, "I am proud of her."
I held back the beaming grin, my stomach filled with love bugs. I didn't know how to respond, other than to kiss his cheek.
"Well, come on then, love birds!"
Gerard and I followed Lucia into the little circle of people looking at one of my latest pieces. My heart soared as I kept repeating with Gerard had said, in my head. He's proud of me.
♠ ♠ ♠
:)