Passed Out on Your Lawn

We’d been pretty good for like four years…sure there’d be the odd problem here and there but nothing major. Thinking that was a jynx of course.

“Guess what!” I shrieked with glee as I ran into the living room.

Max and I had moved in together about six months ago. The guys were there half the time but that was ok by me.

“What’s to guess?” Vanessa asked.

Oh yeah, she and Robert were the on-again-off-again type of couple, it drove me crazy but I still loved them both.

“We’ve got a gig next week with two bands! Can’t wait. It’ll be my first performance with the gang!” I grinned throwing my bag on the empty armchair.

“What do you mean performance?” Max was suddenly paying attention and followed me into the kitchen.

“I mean performance. We’re choreographing a routine up but most of it will be sporadic I guess,” I told him, grabbing a coke from the fridge.

Max sighed and gave me the look, the disappointment look.

“Will you stop that? You’ve seen what we do,” I groaned back.

This unfortunately was a big problem for Max. He was ok when I started taking pole dancing lessons, it was fine when I bought my own to practise on, but when I started getting really good like show quality he didn’t like it.
I may need to explain a little further;
There’s a big difference between lap dancers/ strippers and a professional pole dancer. Pole dancing is an athletic art form in a fashion. Its not rubbing up and down the thing shaking your ass, it takes so much strength and technique to be good at it. To lift yourself upside down is hard work and to hold on sometimes with just skin grip takes a fuck load of practise.
I’d explained all this to him before. Not to mention the group of girls I did it with wore nothing less than shorts and tank tops while doing it. We weren’t bleached and tanned princesses that could easily give the wrong impression; we were pierced and tattooed metallers.

“You know I don’t want you doing it in public,” Max folded his arms.

“You know I’m not asking permission. I’m sorry if you don’t like it but for fucks sake I don’t fly off the handle every time some bitch letches at you!” I defended.

“Firstly I’m not ‘flying off the handle’ and secondly I’m not the one parading around half naked,” he said stiffly.

“I’d wear more but you can’t grip the damn thing in jeans. Will you not get over it!” I left the room not knowing what else to say to get through to him.

Yeah he has a point, I see it but I’m not going to stop doing the one thing I love and can actually do (aside from Max but that could change I guess) because he objects. I’m not doing anything wrong!

I grabbed my bag en route to the spare room with my pole in. I put on some music full blast and kicked off my Converse. Prepared in shorts and a band tank top took a hold and shoulder mounted then aerial climbed to the top.

“Dakota will you talk about this?” Max barged in and had to look around the door to find me; slightly taken aback at my height.

“No. There’s nothing to talk about,” I huffed, staying in my seated position.

“You’re impossible!” he raged slightly and slammed the door behind himself.

I saw red and jumped down to the ground going after him.
“Fine! I’ll pull out of the performance when you stop taking your shirt off at your shows!” I yelled after him.

“Don’t be ridiculous! We’ll talk about this when you’ve straightened your head out,” he half shouted back at me without even turning to look.

I was too mad to practise and that annoyed me more than Max’s chauvinistic bullshit.
When Vanessa came into the room I was fighting tears crumpled against the wall with The Used on full.

“Honey, what’s going on?” she turned the music down a little and came to sit by me.

“You mean you didn’t hear?” I scoffed. “He knows what this means to me and he’s being an asshole. I wouldn’t dare take the band away from him,” I cried like a child.

“It’s not worth crying over, baby. Just do what you wanna do and don’t discuss it. This is your life not his.”

“I know. I just thought after so long he’d know me by now and understand. He’s never behaved like this over anything, it’s not like him,” I tried my hardest to cease the tears but it was too hard.

“He’s always been protective of you and a little possessive, its just not been this obvious. He’s scared of losing you, that’s all and having you doing your thing in front of a room full of guys is pretty threatening. I know he wouldn’t survive without you,” Vanessa hugged me tightly and I returned it, a hug was something I really needed.

“I won’t be controlled though. I love him so much it hurts,” I mumbled.

“It’ll be ok, don’t worry.”

She sat with me until I stopped crying. By the time we emerged from the room she told me they’d all gone out.

**

It was about five AM when Max finally came back. I was listening to my iPod trying to sleep, which was hard when I had no idea where he was and we didn’t part on good terms.
He dropped nearly all his clothes on the floor as per usual before stumbling into bed reeking of Jack Daniels. He pulled me across the bed with ease and buried his face in my neck mumbling, “I love you, Dee and I’m sorry.”

Despite him being an ass I wrapped my arms and legs around him comfortably and was able to sleep soon after he did.

I had only fallen deeper in love with him as time had passed. He was my world and not only did it scare me to death that our relationship seemed threatened by one simple thing but it hurt more than anything I could even imagine, and my imagination could be brutal.