Busted Lips and Lust-Bruised Hips

Amaya glanced around the shop, her eyes incandescent with the laugh she wouldn't allow herself to release as she took in the displays. Catching Jeanae's eye over the racks, she shook her head in amused disbelief. "It looks like Pete's exploded in here," she said.

Jeanae grinned, nodding in agreement. "It does," she replied as she ran an affectionate hand over a hoodie, "It just looks less blood-coated than the real thing."

Amaya reached out to examine a hoodie more closely, smiling at the intricate brain pattern on the inside. "Even his philsophy is on each piece of clothing." She let the hoodie fall back into position, her fingers lingering against the fabric a second longer before she glanced back up at Jeanae. "I seriously don't know how he manages to keep track of everything," she said.

"I wonder too sometimes," Jeanae agreed, walking around the rack to Amaya, "But somehow he does."

"I guess he's more on top than he'll ever let on," Amaya suggested.

Jeanae nodded with a smile that burned with blatant affection as she glanced back down at the hoodies and Amaya watched her somewhat fondly as she did. There was a shameless passion that glowed just beneath her skin that Amaya revelled in remembering. She broke from her reverie as Jeanae turned back to her with a broad grin. "Let's get some coffee," she said, taking Amaya's arm in a wash of confidence and Amaya let her, just glad to be caught up in some enthusiasm for once.

Amaya glanced around the café as Jeanae stood at the counter getting their coffees, admiring the change of pace in Chicago and smiled at how she could probably fit into sync with the routines of a coffee shop miles away from her home. Her thoughts were broken as Jeanae placed her coffee in front of her with a gentle smile across her lips. "Looks like you had plenty on your mind," Jeanae said as she sat down opposite Amaya.

Winding her hands around her cup, Amaya laughed lightly. "Not really," she confessed, "I was just thinking about work." Glancing up, she shrugged. "That's how exciting my thoughts are."

"It must be nice to have a break away," Jeanae sympathised, watching as Amaya trailed her finger around the rim of her cup in thought.

"It is, yeah," Amaya replied absently, "But, then again, it isn't. I mean, it's nice to have a break but it just makes going back a little harder to do."

"The routines are difficult to get back into," Jeanae finished.

"Exactly," Amaya said steadying her hand against the side of the cup. She stared into the steam before coming back to herself with widened eyes. "And listen to me go on like it matters!" she exclaimed.

"Maybe it does," Jeanae suggested, "It sure seems like it does." Pausing to lean across the table, she fixed Amaya with a determined glance. "What's it like working in a place like this?"

Smiling at the other girl's interest, Amaya shrugged, "Monotonous," she explained, "It's little things like seeing regulars that make it a little more bareable."

"I guess it's just a chance to step outside for a while, scrounge for some human contact."

Amaya nodded from behind the rim of her coffee cup. "They don't realise how much it means. It may be thirty seconds worth of conversation but it stops you from going insane." She glanced across at Jeanae, who was watching her soul bearing with a depth of understanding she knew no one was able to fake. Setting her cup back on the table, she let her smile fade in sincerity. "Pete's really lucky to have you, you know?" she told Jeanae, "I hope he realises it. You two seem so perfect together."

"It feels something close to that," Jeanae agreed softly, "It's like jigsaw pieces. I take his hand and...we fit. It just feels right."

"It must be so beautiful to have that, some solid ground after all the chaos," Amaya said.

"Oh, it isn't always like this," Jeanae replied with a smirk, "We have just as many break-ups as make-ups."

"But you still fit together," Amaya insisted, "Not many people can claim that."

Tilting her head to the side, Jeanae sensed the undertones to Amaya's replies. "Was it ever like that with your boyfriend?"

Raising her eyes in surprise, Amaya took in Jeanae's sincerity and sighed. "In the beginning," she said, "It was all dreams and forevers. Now it's all different."

"How do you mean?"

"Have you ever known someone, like really known someone, until you could time their moodswings to the second and then suddenly they flip a 180 on you? That's what it's like. I don't know who's changed anymore. All I know is that we're not the people we were when we started."

"You know, Pete and I were like that in the beginning," Jeanae reassured, "But we've grown together now."

Amaya smiled at Jeanae's sliver of comfort. "It's just a shame that the media refuse to pick up on that side of him. They just want to dwell on the negatives."

"Exactly. I know he's a little emo sometimes," Jeanae said with a fond smile, "But he's not all anti-depressants and tombstones."

"They just make him out to be. Like that interviewer the other day."

Jeanae frowned slightly. "What interviewer?" she asked.

"That one he's been so down about recently," Amaya explained, "You know? The one that kept pressing about the overdose and all that."

Settling back into her seat slowly, Jeanae shook her head. "He never told me about that," she said quietly.

"Oh," Amaya said, suddenly worried, "Well, I'm sure it's not all that important."

"No, but it's important enough to get him upset," Jeanae stated calmly.

Taking in the Jeanae's hurt expression, Amaya leant into the distance between the two. "Look, I'm sorry," Amaya apologised, "I didn't know he hadn't mentioned it. I shouldn't have opened my mouth. I don't wanna cause any problems."

"Oh no," Jeanae replied with a sudden smile, "You haven't. Don't worry about it."

Amaya settled back in smiling sceptism at her response and watched as the younger woman curled her lips around her mug. Despite Jeanae's reassurance, she sighed over the rim of her coffee and couldn't help but think that this was the biggest problem she could have accidentlally inflicted on Pete.

Pete sensed something was wrong from the second Jeanae brushed in, leaving a painful kiss against his cheek for show, and Amaya followed with diverted eyes that fell to the carpet with apologies. Although he was confused about the situation, one look at the tense posture of both girls caused him to decide against confrontation for a while. Instead, he followed them into the kitchen, hoping that it was just a brief disagreement that would settle itself down over time. However, as dinner progressed and still the awkward silence remained, Pete realised it wasn't going to be as easy as that. Still, he was insistent on solving it as he climbed the stairs that night after taking Amaya back to the hotel, pausing outside the bathroom to listening to Jeanae get ready for bed inside. He gently coaxed the door open, staying in the doorway to watch as she finished brushing her teeth and waited until she caught his eye in the reflection of the mirror. As she did, he stepped up behind her and coiled his arms around her waist, pressing his lips to her shoulder and tasting the tension beneath the skin as he did.

Jeanae pulled back almost immediately, reaching for the towel she placed next to the sink. "Don't, Pete," she told him, "I'm trying to get ready for bed."

Pete stopped, watching as Jeanae attempted to make a hasty retreat from his presence. "What's wrong?" he asked, frowning.

"Nothing," Jeanae replied as she attempted to walk past Pete. Catching his hurt and confused expression, she sighed, placing her towel by the sink again. "Why do you talk to her instead of me?" Jeanae asked him.

"What are you talking about?" Pete asked, his frown deepening.

"That interview the other day," Jeanae explained, "The one you're supposedly upset about. How come you told her? You should have turned to me! I'm your girlfriend. I'm supposed to be the one you turn to first."

"I tried to!" Pete replied, "Right after it happened, I tried to phone. I couldn't get hold of you. She was a second thought." He paused to look closely at Jeanae and the way she held herself tight in her rage with mounting aggravation. "Where were you anyway?"

Jeanae paused to rewind back to that day. "Probably in work," she finally replied, shrugging dismissively. Focussing back on Pete, she leant one level palm against the counter. "You know, I can't come every time your moodswings feel like calling me. I do have a life outside that ego of yours."

Pete paused in surprise, taking in Jeanae's sudden bitterness with shallow, ragged breaths. "No, that's the thing. You're never there," he snarled in response, "You weren't there New Years Eve either."

"Well, you were the one who decided it was best if I stayed home and away from all those cameras," Jeanae argued, "Although I bet she was there."

"By coincidence," Pete answered, "I didn't ask her to be there. You're forgetting she's a fan."

"Yeah, a real dedicated fan," Jeanae retorted.

"Stop placing your jealousy on her!" Pete yelled, "She's done nothing but be there for me. It's more than I could ever say for you. This is all I ever get from you; arguments and shattered hearts! And you wonder why I turn to her."

"Don't put this on me, Pete," Jeanae spat as she grabbed her towel, "This is what you make me do." Sparing him one last disapproving look, she left the bathroom and Pete abandoned with his rage. He stood for a few moments in his new-found isolation, clenching and unclenching his fists as he attempted to level his breathing. Regaining his composure worked out harder than he expected it to and, as he saw his face contorted with anger in the mirror, he snarled once again, sending one violent fist towards his reflection. As his temper gradually subsided, he glanced down at the glass shattered around his feet and trailed his gaze up to the blood trickling down his wrist in steady bouts. He cursed under his breath as he sank back against the bathroom wall in defeat.

Another seven years' bad luck.