Can't Believe That I Survived
Royal Blue Is My New Favorite Color.
-Anna POV-
'Yeah, I'll be there in 5 minutes-' I look down at my watchless wrist.
Damn it.. Must've left it at home..
'Oh shit, Jane, what's the time?'
'Uhmm.. Four thirty... Wh-'
'TURN THE T.V ON NOW. I'M ALMOST THERE.' I end the call and then start sprinting down the street in the direction of my apartment.
I fumble with the key before managing to push it open, then run to the living room and body slam onto the couch.
'Ahh, get the fuck off!' A muffled voice sounds underneath me.
'Oh, sorry Jack!' I let out a nervous laugh. 'Didn't see you there...'
Long pale arms grasp my waist and push me off the faux leather sofa, onto the creamy carpeted floor.
'I'm fine, don't worry.'
He stands and offers a hand out and helps me up.
Through his shaggy fringe I barely see his big eyes looking down at me from his height of at least 6 foot. The color of them is unknown to me, as his chocolate hair is always in the way.
'I never knew what color your eyes were.' I say quietly.
He laughs. 'Neither do I. So, what are you hurrying to watch? You hardly ever use the T.V. I don't think you've even turned it on since we moved here.' he smiles and curiously cocks his head to one side.
'Hmm, very observative, Mr. Way. Just like your sister.' I poke his chest.
'Observative isn't a word, Anna.'
I sigh and plonk back down onto the couch. 'well, it is now.'
The volume on our 32 inch flat screen is muted, so I find the remote and turn it up.
'-making the decisions you did?' the reporter finishes.
My eyes light up and a huge smile slides across my face as the heavily tattooed yet gorgeous man starts to reply in a raspy voice.
'Oh, that's Ronnie thing, isn't it-'
'Shhh!' I hiss and shoo him out of the room, leaving me in peace.
'-fucking stupid, but I still don't regret anything. That's the past, anyway. I have so many plans for the future.'
'Would you mind sharing some of those plans?' he inquires.
'Well, first off I want to quit the drugs. Heroin completely fucked up my life. So I'm workin' on that... I have a lot of lyrics already, and when I get out I'll start a new band.'
'Speaking of bands, have you communicated with the members of Escape The Fate recently?'
'Nope.' I frown slightly at his sharp answer, the audible frustration tangled in his voice. Anger seems to well up in his red-brown eyes.
I wonder if he got my letter...
'What about your fans? I've heard they send you letters, drawings of yourself... How do you feel about that?'
Ronnie's face softens and I notice the corners of his mouth pulling upwards, his eyes shift slowly away from the reporter's surveying ones as if he is recalling a pleasant memory.
'My fans are amazing. The only ones who have stayed loyal to me. Not even my closest friends stuck by me through all this bullshit.'
'How many letters do you think you get a day?'
'Hundreds.'
My shoulders slump in defeat.
You tell him your life story, without thinking he has thousands of other fans that do the same? He gets hundreds of items everyday. He couldn't have possibly remembered yours, nor even care. He probably didn't even open it.
'Hey, Anna. I see you found the right channel-Are you okay?' The familiar voice pauses as I tear my saddened eyes away from the floor to look at my best friend.
'Hm? Oh, hey Jane. Yeah, I'm fine...' I trail off and plaster a smile onto my face, in attempt to hide the obvious dismay etched into my features.
She removes her concerned stare from my cloudy blue eyes and sits next to me, her hazel ones trained on the tv.
As she listens to the former rockstar talking half-enthusiastically about the fan mail he receives, a look of realization grows on her tanned face.
'He'll be out before you know it, An.' Jane puts a reassuring arm around me.
'Two months. He's been in there for two months. I don't think he'll be out anytime soon. Anyway, it's not about that. I'm just being stupid.' I pick at my bare fingernails.
She turns to gaze intently at me, removing her arm from my shoulders.
'Look, I know he's your savior and role model and everything, but if you look at it from his perspective then you're just another fan sending him random shit. I'm sorry, but it's true. He couldn't pinpoint one letter and remember it forever.' She can read me like a book.
I sigh deeply.
'Yeah, I know. You're right. I'll just forget about it.'
'Yeah, I'll be there in 5 minutes-' I look down at my watchless wrist.
Damn it.. Must've left it at home..
'Oh shit, Jane, what's the time?'
'Uhmm.. Four thirty... Wh-'
'TURN THE T.V ON NOW. I'M ALMOST THERE.' I end the call and then start sprinting down the street in the direction of my apartment.
I fumble with the key before managing to push it open, then run to the living room and body slam onto the couch.
'Ahh, get the fuck off!' A muffled voice sounds underneath me.
'Oh, sorry Jack!' I let out a nervous laugh. 'Didn't see you there...'
Long pale arms grasp my waist and push me off the faux leather sofa, onto the creamy carpeted floor.
'I'm fine, don't worry.'
He stands and offers a hand out and helps me up.
Through his shaggy fringe I barely see his big eyes looking down at me from his height of at least 6 foot. The color of them is unknown to me, as his chocolate hair is always in the way.
'I never knew what color your eyes were.' I say quietly.
He laughs. 'Neither do I. So, what are you hurrying to watch? You hardly ever use the T.V. I don't think you've even turned it on since we moved here.' he smiles and curiously cocks his head to one side.
'Hmm, very observative, Mr. Way. Just like your sister.' I poke his chest.
'Observative isn't a word, Anna.'
I sigh and plonk back down onto the couch. 'well, it is now.'
The volume on our 32 inch flat screen is muted, so I find the remote and turn it up.
'-making the decisions you did?' the reporter finishes.
My eyes light up and a huge smile slides across my face as the heavily tattooed yet gorgeous man starts to reply in a raspy voice.
'Oh, that's Ronnie thing, isn't it-'
'Shhh!' I hiss and shoo him out of the room, leaving me in peace.
'-fucking stupid, but I still don't regret anything. That's the past, anyway. I have so many plans for the future.'
'Would you mind sharing some of those plans?' he inquires.
'Well, first off I want to quit the drugs. Heroin completely fucked up my life. So I'm workin' on that... I have a lot of lyrics already, and when I get out I'll start a new band.'
'Speaking of bands, have you communicated with the members of Escape The Fate recently?'
'Nope.' I frown slightly at his sharp answer, the audible frustration tangled in his voice. Anger seems to well up in his red-brown eyes.
I wonder if he got my letter...
'What about your fans? I've heard they send you letters, drawings of yourself... How do you feel about that?'
Ronnie's face softens and I notice the corners of his mouth pulling upwards, his eyes shift slowly away from the reporter's surveying ones as if he is recalling a pleasant memory.
'My fans are amazing. The only ones who have stayed loyal to me. Not even my closest friends stuck by me through all this bullshit.'
'How many letters do you think you get a day?'
'Hundreds.'
My shoulders slump in defeat.
You tell him your life story, without thinking he has thousands of other fans that do the same? He gets hundreds of items everyday. He couldn't have possibly remembered yours, nor even care. He probably didn't even open it.
'Hey, Anna. I see you found the right channel-Are you okay?' The familiar voice pauses as I tear my saddened eyes away from the floor to look at my best friend.
'Hm? Oh, hey Jane. Yeah, I'm fine...' I trail off and plaster a smile onto my face, in attempt to hide the obvious dismay etched into my features.
She removes her concerned stare from my cloudy blue eyes and sits next to me, her hazel ones trained on the tv.
As she listens to the former rockstar talking half-enthusiastically about the fan mail he receives, a look of realization grows on her tanned face.
'He'll be out before you know it, An.' Jane puts a reassuring arm around me.
'Two months. He's been in there for two months. I don't think he'll be out anytime soon. Anyway, it's not about that. I'm just being stupid.' I pick at my bare fingernails.
She turns to gaze intently at me, removing her arm from my shoulders.
'Look, I know he's your savior and role model and everything, but if you look at it from his perspective then you're just another fan sending him random shit. I'm sorry, but it's true. He couldn't pinpoint one letter and remember it forever.' She can read me like a book.
I sigh deeply.
'Yeah, I know. You're right. I'll just forget about it.'