I Guess I'll Never Get To Call You Mine
CHUCK
As I flopped down in bed that night I replayed today’s events again in my head. David and Aline…the thought of them being together was already bizarre. Sure opposites attract but Aline is nothing like David. I sat up in frustration and clicked on the remote to watch some basketball. David is just some restless slacker who can’t keep his hands off women. As soon as that thought crossed my mind I immediately felt bad. I know that wasn’t completely true. Although David likes to stray off by himself he hardly ever missed any interviews and meet-and-greets, let alone shows. He definitely can’t be called a slacker. Sure, he had a flirtatious nature but the crowds loved him for it I’ve been touring with him and putting up with his antics for eight years and never minded. Then why am I suddenly feeling an illogical stab of resentment toward him? Oh geez my feelings are just so messed up right now.
I thought back to the moment I saw him in that balcony with Aline. For all the world they look like they’re best friends, though I know they were never close, but then David always had the ability to draw girls to him effortlessly. I felt something close to jealousy boiling in my veins. Why can’t I be that charming? Why does he get people to like him without even trying?
Pierre can top that talent, but then of course, his looks helped a lot. Seb and his Star Wars and Legos obsession had billions of doe-eyed girls dying because of his ‘cuteness’ though I doubt if I decided to sponsor Luke Skywalker I’d get the same reaction. Jeff, although more discreet, actually had a huge female fanbase because apparently, he had a ‘strong, silent, macho’ appeal about him. He’s also lead guitarist, so he’s more visible than me. Drummers are always rooted to the back of stage, playing a supporting role, half-hidden by cymbals. Since we all we ever do is drum we can be replaced anytime by anybody else. You can’t replace the vocalists, but definitely the drummer. No wonder no ones paid me any attention.
I opened my eyes and realized that I’ve been silently dissing my friends for having an easier time hooking up with girls than me. Giving myself a good mental punch in the face, I forced myself to concentrate on the basketball game. Why am I suddenly wallowing in self-pity and thinking about girls? I’ve got Ashley. She makes me happy. I frowned and then thought back again to David cracking jokes easily as Aline laughed, undoubtedly finding him fun to be with. They didn’t even look at me (oh, and Ashley and that weirdo butler too I suppose) staring from behind those glass doors. Have I ever made Ashley happy? And why am I thinking about David and Aline?
Later, they didn’t even bother inquire after us with a text message. According to the butler, they had to leave abruptly. No doubt David would’ve invited her over to his apartment, I thought gloomily. But no…Aline would never agree. Guess I’d find all about it tomorrow. Sleep soon eluded me and I didn’t even get to see who won that basketball game.
I woke up with a start. I’d slept the whole night through in my full clothes and at a weird angle, so now my neck had cramps. I groaned and pushed away the covers, checking the time in my cell phone. I’ve had several messages. There was one from Randy, telling me and today’s songwriting session with Pierre is canceled. Ashley also texted me, telling me that she’ll be out all day. Jeff informed that he and Seb are going over to the Bouviers’. Hmm…that’s strange. Why would they go to Pierre’s parents?
As I headed for the showers I brainstormed of what I was going to do today. I usually plan my free times, so I wasn’t used to being spontaneous. I thought of asking Pat to go golfing but then I remembered that he had an interview to do today. Pierre is probably with his parents if Jeff and Seb are visiting him. I’d go but I didn’t have a car and I can’t drive anyway. Besides, it’ll be kind of rude to suddenly drop in their hospitality at the last minute. With a pang I realized that the only people who’s probably available to hang out with is David and Aline.
It’s a little obvious whom I chose to call. I got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself, thinking of what to say to Aline. Hey, would you like to spend time with me today? But what if she asked why? Wait, why would she ask why? We were friends, right? Friends hang out with each other. Okay, this is ridiculous. What’s so difficult on calling a friend? I picked up my phone and quickly dialed her number, almost wishing that she didn’t pick up.
Aline picked up on the second ring. “Hello?” she said, a little breathlessly. “Hey Al,” I said casually. “Is it bad timing? You sound anxious.” “Oh, hey Charles.” She sounded distracted. “Um, yeah, I was kind of expecting a call. How are you?” “I’m fine. What about you? Are you OK? Where’s Randy? Do you want me to come over? We can go for a walk. You sound like you need some fresh air.” “Randy’s with Pierre,” Aline said. “And I don’t know, Chuck…” “Come on, I’ll meet you at your hotel, OK?” I persisted. Something’s wrong, and I don’t know what. Aline is never vague with me before. Is it because of last night? I waited for an answer. Finally, I heard a quiet, almost inaudible, “Okay.”
For some I reason I quickened my pace and rushed through the subway transfers, arriving in a record ten minutes. Aline is waiting for me in the lobby, wearing an oversize sweatshirt and jeans. There were dark circles under her eyes from obvious lack of sleep. She greeted me with a weary smile and we proceeded to go.
I tugged at her sweatshirt for after a few minutes of awkward silence. “Nice one,” I said. “Is it Randy’s?” “No, it’s David’s,” she sighed. “And it’s way too big for me.” Wait, what? Since when did she start borrowing David’s clothes? Unless…
“So, um, about last night—” “Oh my Gawd, I’m so sorry!” Aline stopped and turned toward me, her piercing hazel eyes wide with shock. “I forgot you and Ashley are supposed to…I’m an idiot,” she said. “I should’ve texted you—it was sudden—I wasn’t thinking…” With each word she said she pounded herself on the head with her fist. It would’ve been funny except for her pained expression. “Hey, hey I didn’t understand a word you are saying,” I chuckled, grabbing her wrist. “Slow down.” The too-long sleeves slid downward, and I immediately noticed a bruise on her arm. “What’s that?”
She looked defensive. “It’s nothing,” she insisted, trying to tug her hand out of my grasp. “Aline,” I said sternly, rolling back the sleeve and exposing her whole limb. Bruises trailed across her pale skin like blue jewels glinting in the sunlight. I nearly dropped her arm in shock. “Where’d you get that?” I demanded. “Um, a few days ago. I tripped,” she stammered, obviously lying. “No it’s not, these are new bruises,” I said through gritted teeth. I took her other hand and pulled the sleeve backward, flipped her arm over so I can see the long, ugly red scratches across the smooth flesh. “Who did it?” “Chuck, listen—” “Answer me!”
She was about to argue when her blasted phone rang. Looking apologetic, she went to answer it, and I let her, reluctantly playing the gentleman. “Hey, Chuck, I’m so sorry but I really have to go,” she said. “Seb is meeting me in half an hour in Old Port. This is last-minute, I’m sorry.” She looked at me pleadingly and I realized that I was still clutching at her. I released her wordlessly and she gave me a grateful look. “I’ll call you!” she shouted as she sprinted toward the nearest subway station, apparently not caring that she’d bumped into half a dozen people on the way and they were all now cussing after her. Well, at least I know where I’m going next. I’m going to find David Desrosiers and I’m going to kill him if I find out that he’s the one who hurt her.
Finding David was easy. He always slept in, so all I need to do is show up at his apartment. I rapped on the door smartly and waited. “What’s up?” David said, looking at my expression warily. Judging from the underclothes and his sleep-deprived eyes today was no exception. “You look like you’re going to beat me up or something.” I cut straight to the point. “Listen, Dave,” I said, trying to maintain a tone of professionalism. “I came to ask you about last night.” “Aline told you then?” he said, looking irritated. “Geez, I thought we were supposed to keep this a secret.” WHAT? “Wait, what secret?” I said. “Oh, so she didn’t tell you,” he said unnecessarily. I rolled my eyes. “But hold on, what’re you here for?” he asked.
“I told you I wanted to ask what’s up with yesterday,” I said evenly. “And what was that secret about anyway?” “I didn’t do anything last night except go to that dinner at Le Local,” David said. I waited for him to continue but he stayed silent. “Fine, you didn’t want to tell me,” I said huffily. “But I saw Aline this morning. She had bruises and scratches on her arms. Did you know that?” “Holy hell, she did? Damn I should’ve put more restraint…” David murmured. “It was dark, it’s probably not on purpose, and we were struggling…I didn’t know she was hurt.” Let’s just say that what happens next is that my composure broke down entirely.
“Did you f*cking try to sleep with her?” I said coldly. “WHAT? Of course not!” David protested, looking surprised. But I saw him glancing at his bed, where the jeans he wore last night were thrown carelessly across the mattress. I immediately reached over and shoved my hand in the jean pocket. David saw what I was doing halfway through and tried to stop me, but I decked him full in the face. “What the f*ck?” he shouted. I pulled out a packet of condoms.
“Did you hit her?” I said quietly, but inside my muscles are itching to rearrange David’s facial structure and then break every bone in his body. “She refused you, didn’t she? Did you hit her because of it?” “I TOLD YOU IT WASN’T ME!” David’s nose was bleeding where I’d punched him, and I felt a gruesome feeling of satisfaction for having done him an injury. “It was a friggin’ accident. Why do you care so much anyway? It’s none of your business. Okay fine, I admit that if an opportunity to get into bed with her arises, I wouldn’t refuse, but I NEVER hurt her!” “And I’m supposed to believe that? You were the last guy she was with last night, David! How did she get those bruises then? Did they magically appear?” I fumed. “I thought you were better than that! Aline is not some cheap stripper you can have fun with. You can’t keep your pants to yourself for just one f*cking minute can’t you?”
He glowered at me as he stood up. “Why don’t you just get your ass out of here?” he said. I threw my hands up. “You know what? I will. You’re impossible! You’re thoughtless and rash and you never think. You care about no one but yourself!” “Well guess what? Stick and stones, you moron! It’s not I’ve never been insulted before!” David yelled back. “Oh, and one last thing! At least having a high sex life proves that I’m not just some brokenhearted loser whom girls love to break up with. Like you!” I turned around and gave him the middle finger. “F*ck you, David,” I said simply.
I thought back to the moment I saw him in that balcony with Aline. For all the world they look like they’re best friends, though I know they were never close, but then David always had the ability to draw girls to him effortlessly. I felt something close to jealousy boiling in my veins. Why can’t I be that charming? Why does he get people to like him without even trying?
Pierre can top that talent, but then of course, his looks helped a lot. Seb and his Star Wars and Legos obsession had billions of doe-eyed girls dying because of his ‘cuteness’ though I doubt if I decided to sponsor Luke Skywalker I’d get the same reaction. Jeff, although more discreet, actually had a huge female fanbase because apparently, he had a ‘strong, silent, macho’ appeal about him. He’s also lead guitarist, so he’s more visible than me. Drummers are always rooted to the back of stage, playing a supporting role, half-hidden by cymbals. Since we all we ever do is drum we can be replaced anytime by anybody else. You can’t replace the vocalists, but definitely the drummer. No wonder no ones paid me any attention.
I opened my eyes and realized that I’ve been silently dissing my friends for having an easier time hooking up with girls than me. Giving myself a good mental punch in the face, I forced myself to concentrate on the basketball game. Why am I suddenly wallowing in self-pity and thinking about girls? I’ve got Ashley. She makes me happy. I frowned and then thought back again to David cracking jokes easily as Aline laughed, undoubtedly finding him fun to be with. They didn’t even look at me (oh, and Ashley and that weirdo butler too I suppose) staring from behind those glass doors. Have I ever made Ashley happy? And why am I thinking about David and Aline?
Later, they didn’t even bother inquire after us with a text message. According to the butler, they had to leave abruptly. No doubt David would’ve invited her over to his apartment, I thought gloomily. But no…Aline would never agree. Guess I’d find all about it tomorrow. Sleep soon eluded me and I didn’t even get to see who won that basketball game.
I woke up with a start. I’d slept the whole night through in my full clothes and at a weird angle, so now my neck had cramps. I groaned and pushed away the covers, checking the time in my cell phone. I’ve had several messages. There was one from Randy, telling me and today’s songwriting session with Pierre is canceled. Ashley also texted me, telling me that she’ll be out all day. Jeff informed that he and Seb are going over to the Bouviers’. Hmm…that’s strange. Why would they go to Pierre’s parents?
As I headed for the showers I brainstormed of what I was going to do today. I usually plan my free times, so I wasn’t used to being spontaneous. I thought of asking Pat to go golfing but then I remembered that he had an interview to do today. Pierre is probably with his parents if Jeff and Seb are visiting him. I’d go but I didn’t have a car and I can’t drive anyway. Besides, it’ll be kind of rude to suddenly drop in their hospitality at the last minute. With a pang I realized that the only people who’s probably available to hang out with is David and Aline.
It’s a little obvious whom I chose to call. I got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself, thinking of what to say to Aline. Hey, would you like to spend time with me today? But what if she asked why? Wait, why would she ask why? We were friends, right? Friends hang out with each other. Okay, this is ridiculous. What’s so difficult on calling a friend? I picked up my phone and quickly dialed her number, almost wishing that she didn’t pick up.
Aline picked up on the second ring. “Hello?” she said, a little breathlessly. “Hey Al,” I said casually. “Is it bad timing? You sound anxious.” “Oh, hey Charles.” She sounded distracted. “Um, yeah, I was kind of expecting a call. How are you?” “I’m fine. What about you? Are you OK? Where’s Randy? Do you want me to come over? We can go for a walk. You sound like you need some fresh air.” “Randy’s with Pierre,” Aline said. “And I don’t know, Chuck…” “Come on, I’ll meet you at your hotel, OK?” I persisted. Something’s wrong, and I don’t know what. Aline is never vague with me before. Is it because of last night? I waited for an answer. Finally, I heard a quiet, almost inaudible, “Okay.”
For some I reason I quickened my pace and rushed through the subway transfers, arriving in a record ten minutes. Aline is waiting for me in the lobby, wearing an oversize sweatshirt and jeans. There were dark circles under her eyes from obvious lack of sleep. She greeted me with a weary smile and we proceeded to go.
I tugged at her sweatshirt for after a few minutes of awkward silence. “Nice one,” I said. “Is it Randy’s?” “No, it’s David’s,” she sighed. “And it’s way too big for me.” Wait, what? Since when did she start borrowing David’s clothes? Unless…
“So, um, about last night—” “Oh my Gawd, I’m so sorry!” Aline stopped and turned toward me, her piercing hazel eyes wide with shock. “I forgot you and Ashley are supposed to…I’m an idiot,” she said. “I should’ve texted you—it was sudden—I wasn’t thinking…” With each word she said she pounded herself on the head with her fist. It would’ve been funny except for her pained expression. “Hey, hey I didn’t understand a word you are saying,” I chuckled, grabbing her wrist. “Slow down.” The too-long sleeves slid downward, and I immediately noticed a bruise on her arm. “What’s that?”
She looked defensive. “It’s nothing,” she insisted, trying to tug her hand out of my grasp. “Aline,” I said sternly, rolling back the sleeve and exposing her whole limb. Bruises trailed across her pale skin like blue jewels glinting in the sunlight. I nearly dropped her arm in shock. “Where’d you get that?” I demanded. “Um, a few days ago. I tripped,” she stammered, obviously lying. “No it’s not, these are new bruises,” I said through gritted teeth. I took her other hand and pulled the sleeve backward, flipped her arm over so I can see the long, ugly red scratches across the smooth flesh. “Who did it?” “Chuck, listen—” “Answer me!”
She was about to argue when her blasted phone rang. Looking apologetic, she went to answer it, and I let her, reluctantly playing the gentleman. “Hey, Chuck, I’m so sorry but I really have to go,” she said. “Seb is meeting me in half an hour in Old Port. This is last-minute, I’m sorry.” She looked at me pleadingly and I realized that I was still clutching at her. I released her wordlessly and she gave me a grateful look. “I’ll call you!” she shouted as she sprinted toward the nearest subway station, apparently not caring that she’d bumped into half a dozen people on the way and they were all now cussing after her. Well, at least I know where I’m going next. I’m going to find David Desrosiers and I’m going to kill him if I find out that he’s the one who hurt her.
Finding David was easy. He always slept in, so all I need to do is show up at his apartment. I rapped on the door smartly and waited. “What’s up?” David said, looking at my expression warily. Judging from the underclothes and his sleep-deprived eyes today was no exception. “You look like you’re going to beat me up or something.” I cut straight to the point. “Listen, Dave,” I said, trying to maintain a tone of professionalism. “I came to ask you about last night.” “Aline told you then?” he said, looking irritated. “Geez, I thought we were supposed to keep this a secret.” WHAT? “Wait, what secret?” I said. “Oh, so she didn’t tell you,” he said unnecessarily. I rolled my eyes. “But hold on, what’re you here for?” he asked.
“I told you I wanted to ask what’s up with yesterday,” I said evenly. “And what was that secret about anyway?” “I didn’t do anything last night except go to that dinner at Le Local,” David said. I waited for him to continue but he stayed silent. “Fine, you didn’t want to tell me,” I said huffily. “But I saw Aline this morning. She had bruises and scratches on her arms. Did you know that?” “Holy hell, she did? Damn I should’ve put more restraint…” David murmured. “It was dark, it’s probably not on purpose, and we were struggling…I didn’t know she was hurt.” Let’s just say that what happens next is that my composure broke down entirely.
“Did you f*cking try to sleep with her?” I said coldly. “WHAT? Of course not!” David protested, looking surprised. But I saw him glancing at his bed, where the jeans he wore last night were thrown carelessly across the mattress. I immediately reached over and shoved my hand in the jean pocket. David saw what I was doing halfway through and tried to stop me, but I decked him full in the face. “What the f*ck?” he shouted. I pulled out a packet of condoms.
“Did you hit her?” I said quietly, but inside my muscles are itching to rearrange David’s facial structure and then break every bone in his body. “She refused you, didn’t she? Did you hit her because of it?” “I TOLD YOU IT WASN’T ME!” David’s nose was bleeding where I’d punched him, and I felt a gruesome feeling of satisfaction for having done him an injury. “It was a friggin’ accident. Why do you care so much anyway? It’s none of your business. Okay fine, I admit that if an opportunity to get into bed with her arises, I wouldn’t refuse, but I NEVER hurt her!” “And I’m supposed to believe that? You were the last guy she was with last night, David! How did she get those bruises then? Did they magically appear?” I fumed. “I thought you were better than that! Aline is not some cheap stripper you can have fun with. You can’t keep your pants to yourself for just one f*cking minute can’t you?”
He glowered at me as he stood up. “Why don’t you just get your ass out of here?” he said. I threw my hands up. “You know what? I will. You’re impossible! You’re thoughtless and rash and you never think. You care about no one but yourself!” “Well guess what? Stick and stones, you moron! It’s not I’ve never been insulted before!” David yelled back. “Oh, and one last thing! At least having a high sex life proves that I’m not just some brokenhearted loser whom girls love to break up with. Like you!” I turned around and gave him the middle finger. “F*ck you, David,” I said simply.