Edge of Desire

It had been nearly two years since Frances had made that trip to John’s house. Two years brought many changes for the both of them.

Frances had finally gotten her Bachelors in English and was ready to finally start building a life for herself. Being the last Nickelsen child, she was often quite overshadowed by her two older brothers, Trey and Garrett. Trey was a successful sound engineer, working at a well known venue in downtown Phoenix. Garrett was the bassist of a band who was steadily climbing their way to fame, even having their recent music videos played on MTV. Frances … well, Frances had always been the one sitting back quietly, with her nose in the books. But now that she was a graduate of ASU, she was ready to leave the Grand Canyon state behind, her sights set on Chicago, Illinois.

John had slowly learned to accept Jana’s death. It had been hard, especially the first five months following his return to the band. Whilst he tried his hardest to return to his normal self - the fun-down-for-anything-JohnO – he found it to be an impossible task. His mood swings were enough to diagnose him with full on bi-polar disorder, and if he didn’t have to leave the tour bus when they were out on the road, he didn’t. He’d stay in his bunk, a bottle of whiskey glued to his right hand, whilst his left cradled his silver wedding band. He hadn’t dated, or even casually hooked up, with another girl in two years. Just when he would think he was ready to approach a girl, the feeling of guilt would swallow him whole, and he’d admit defeat before heading to the nearest liquor store.

Tonight was Frances’ last night in Tempe, and although she’d begged her brothers not to do it, she somehow found herself stuck in the middle of her going away party. Old and new friends, and even a few family members, had shown up, which had made it even harder for her to think of an excuse to leave early.

“ … Don’t worry, Frankie. I already told Tim he needs to schedule more shows for us to play in Chicago. You won’t be without our lovely faces for too long,” a drunken Garrett told her, swinging his arm over her shoulders.

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Great. Just when I think I’m finally free of you, you find a way to slip right back in.” He pouted and she smiled, patting his head. “I’m only joking, Gare. You know I’ll be counting down the days until I see you and the guys again.” This put a smile on his face, and she sighed, taking a long chug of the BudLight in her hand.

It didn’t take long for her brother to find someone else to talk to, and when he did, she made a quick dash for her room, nearly tripping five times up the stairs. She gave a contented sigh when she opened the door to her room, thanking God she was still in one piece. When her brown eyes caught sight of a tall figure sitting on her bed, however, she screamed, causing the person to turn around.

“Oh my God, John! You scared me!” she sighed, holding a hand over her heart.

He gave her a weak smile. “I’m sorry, Frankie.”

She nodded her head, closing her door. “It’s fine,” she said, setting her bottle down on her nightstand before plopping down on her bed beside John. “I do have to ask, though, why are you sitting alone in my room?”

He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, honestly. I just needed a minute to breathe.”

She nodded her head. “I know what you mean.” After a minute, she studied the expression on John’s face, and knew that there had to be more to the story. “John?”

“Hmm?” he hummed, not bothering to look at her.

“You can talk to me, you know?”

This made him turn and look at her. “What do you mean?”

She sighed and laid a hand over one of his. “You weren’t just sitting here, alone in my room, for no reason. So, I’m letting you know, that if there’s something on your mind, you can talk to me.”

His mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally spoke. “I just … I want to feel alive again, Frances. I’ve been feeling dead for so long, that sometimes I wonder if it’d be better if I was laying down in the ground right next to Jana,” he told her.

The confession didn’t shock Frances.

She squeezed his hand. “John, if you want to feel alive again, then make it happen. You just … you just have to try and find ways to get yourself out there.” She made him meet her gaze. “You’ve only got one life to live, and more than anyone else I know, you should know that the best.”

“It’s hard,” he mumbled.

Frances rolled her eyes, becoming annoyed. “Of course it’s hard, John! Life is hard. It’s especially hard if you want to make it one worth living.” She grabbed his face, making him really look at her. “You have an advantage that most people don’t. You get to travel to different places and perform, and touch people’s lives with your music – with your words. If it’s pity you want, you won’t get any from me, O’Callaghan. You’ve got plenty of ways to make your life count. Your hardest decision should just be where to start first,” she stated.

And then it happened. Without any warning, John leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers. His body leaned against hers, pushing her back onto the mattress. Her lips were somehow responding, kissing him back, and her hands were trailing down his sides. It took only a few moments for the once soft, tender kissing to become hard – fervent. He was kissing her as if he needed her.

Frances’ mind began to clear out of its haze, and she pushed on his chest. “John … John, what’re we doing?” she asked breathlessly.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, going back for her lips. “I have no fucking idea, but I just really want to kiss you right now, Frances.”

And so she let him. Fifteen minutes into the heavy, passionate making out, clothes began coming off, being discarded on her bedroom floor. And before Frances could start thinking rationally, she and John’s bodies began moving as one.

And what was worse, she loved every moment of it.