Chapter title from "Face The Strange" by Good Charlotte.
This chapter includes mention of self-harm that may be triggering. Do not read this chapter if you feel you are sensitive to such triggers. If you want to read a non-triggering version of the chapter, please send me an instant message (AIM- molliegym ; MSN- flipdude830@hotmail.com) and I'll do it.
**********
Katie's POV
I sat there, bleeding for at least twenty minutes. I knew what I had done, and I knew that I needed help. If I didn't talk to someone- anyone- I knew my problem would only get worse. Eventually, I went up and got some bandages to bandage my arm.
I didn't tell anyone right away what I had done. I couldn't. This was something I had to deal with it myself.
The next morning, I got a phone call that woke me up.
"Hello?" I said groggily, not bothering to look at who was calling.
"Hey, it's Seb," said the voice on the other end. I sat up.
"Hey. How are you? What's up?"
"I'm good. We're in L.A. Are you alright?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why are you up so early?" I looked at the clock; it was just after 10AM. "It's gotta be 7 AM there."
"We have a radio interview in half an hour. We've got a photo shoot later, and then the show."
"Oh, yeah, that's… great." I yawned.
"You didn't call last night. I was kinda worried; are you okay?" Seb sounded concerned.
"No, I'm fine," I told him. Yeah, I lied.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. I'll talk to you later."
"Yeah… later. Bye."
"Bye." I said. I hung up.
**********
Pierre's POV
"Yeah… later. Bye." Seb said, and hung up his cell phone. We were outside the building where the radio station was located, waiting for the interview. Supposedly, in a few minutes, someone is going to come meet us and take us inside to the studio.
"Was that Katie?" I asked as Seb was putting his phone in his pocket.
"Yeah, why?"
"What did she say?"
"It's none of your business," Seb told me. He seemed irritated.
"Is she okay?"
"She said she's fine, and I believe her."
"Yeah, well, I don't. If there's one thing I know about Katie, it's that when she says she's fine, she's not." I said, because it's true. Whenever Katie is upset, she always says she's "fine", but obviously she isn't. "I'll be back in a minute."
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to smoke."
"Okay." Seb said. "How much do you smoke, anyway?"
"About a pack a day for the past week."
"Do you realize that you almost never smoked before this whole thing with Katie, and now you're smoking basically all the time?"
"And your point is?"
"It seems like you're kind of using smoking as a way to deal with Katie not being here."
"Whatever. I'm gonna go smoke." I turned away from him and started walking around the building.
"Do you realize that smoking isn't going to solve anything?" I kept walking. "Pierre, you need help. Cigarettes aren't going to fix your problems. Cigarettes aren't going to bring Katie back." I still didn't respond. "If you want to feel better, you need to get help, and stop smoking."
I didn't say anything, but the thing is, Seb was right. Smoking won't change the fact that Katie had sex with Johnny. And it won't make me feel better.
I'm going to need to find some other way to deal with my feelings. I thought talking would help, so that afternoon, after the photo shoot, I went on my laptop.
"Hey, what's up?" David said, taking a seat next to me. I had been sitting alone in a corner while the rest of the band was talking, messing around on some guitars that were lying around.
"I'm just on my laptop. Trying to find a therapist in Montreal."
"Really? How come?"
"I need to stop smoking." I coughed. "It's not doing me any good."
"That's pretty much true," David agreed.
"Yeah, I know. Hold on, I think I'm going to call this person, and set up an appointment for when we get back."
**********
Katie's POV
That day, I went to work as usual. I spent several hours listening to demos, and found one really good band. They were called Hello Kitty, and they were all girls. Hello Kitty had a show at a nearby bar that evening, so I decided to go.
"Thanks for coming out tonight! We're Hello Kitty, and we're from right here in Montreal." The lead singer, a petite but fierce-looking blonde girl, said.
Hello Kitty began their set, and I was very impressed. They were exactly what the label is looking for, and I told them that when I met them after the show.
"I'd like to set up a meeting with you at studio, to talk about a possible recording contract. Here's a business card; please call me."
When I got home after the show, I was excited, glad to have "discovered" a new band. I wanted to tell Pierre; I knew he would be proud, and happy for me.
Then I remembered… he wasn't there. Fuck.
I walked into my bedroom, and lied down on my bed. I was exhausted, physically (it was late, and I had been up since Seb's phone call had awoken me that morning) and mentally (I was run-down, and didn't want to keep going). I realized I probably didn't smell too good, so I decided to take a shower, figuring it would get me clean, if nothing else.
While in the shower, I shaved my legs. I threw out the razor blade when I was done; it was getting dull.
After I dried myself with the towel, I looked through my bathroom cabinet, trying to find my toothpaste. In the cabinet, I did find the toothpaste; but much more interesting was the razor blade in there. Pierre had once said he wanted to learn to shave with a straight razor because it's so "manly". I made fun of him for it, and laughed when he brought home the straight razor. But he had never used it; it remained in the cabinet.
I picked it up, and held it gingerly. There was something about the blade that was scary, but beautiful. Misuse of it would cause severe bleeding, and would surely leave a scar.
I held the razor blade, and dragged it slowly across my wrist. I let the cut bleed for awhile, and then, without bandaging it, I headed to the bedroom, and collapsed on my bed.
I was sobbing. I couldn't take it. I was hurting myself. I knew cutting was "bad", but I just didn't know what else to do. I knew I had to reach out to someone. So I called Seb.
"Seb," I said into my cell phone, crying. "Seb. I need to talk to you. Please."
"What, Katie?" he said. "What's wrong?" Seb sounded pretty worried.
"I just did something really, really bad," I told him through my tears. I couldn't help but stare constantly at the blood on my arm.
"Oh, no, did you- did you cut yourself?"
"I did." I managed to say.
"What happened?"
"I just- I couldn't take it. I hate myself for ruining the engagement, and I hate that Pierre's not here."
"What would you say if I told you that Pierre was feeling pretty upset about this whole thing, too?" Seb asked me.
"I don't know," I admitted. I really didn't. "I need to fix this. I need help."
"I think you're probably right. It might not be a bad idea to go see a therapist, you know."
"I know. I know. I'm going to try to get an appointment for tomorrow. I just feel like such an idiot for not being able to fix myself."
"You should never feel like an idiot for getting help, Katie. It's important."
"I know. I wish you were here right now. I hate being alone."
"I know, I feel the same way. But it's only another week. Think you can hang on safely till then?"
"Yeah," I said. "I think I can."
"I think you can, too."
**********
Seb's POV
After I said goodbye to Katie, I heard a knock on the door of the hotel room that I was sharing with Pierre, who at that time was in the shower.
"Hey, it's David," said a voice from the other side of the door. "Can you let me in?"
"Hold on a second," I said. I put my cell phone in my pocket, and walked over to open the door.
"Hey, you alright?" David said, closing the door behind him.
"Yeah, I'm- no. I'm not. I'm really worried." David followed me to sit on my bed.
"What about?"
"Katie just called. She was crying."
"Oh, my god. What happened?" David looked at my face, and I could tell… he knew. "She-" and he mimed cutting his wrist. I nodded. "Oh, shit."
"Yeah. She said she'd go to a therapist."
"I hope she does. It sounds like she needs to."
"I know. But I'm still worried, though, you know?" I admitted.
"I know, I can't blame you. Hearing that makes me worried too. Especially since she's alone in the apartment, what happens if she goes a little too deep?"
"I don't even want to think about that. I just hope she's okay."
"Me too."
And then the bathroom door opened, and Pierre walked out in his boxers. I could tell from the look on his face that he had heard everything.
Monday, June 8, 2009
7- Lay Down Your Arms, Give Up The Fight
Chapter title and song lyrics are from "21 Guns" by Green Day.
This chapter includes mention of self-harm that may be triggering. Do not read this chapter if you feel you are sensitive to such triggers. If you want to read a non-triggering version of the chapter, please send me an instant message (AIM- molliegym ; MSN- flipdude830@hotmail.com) and I'll do it.
**********
Pierre's POV
I was angry at Katie. I couldn't believe what she had done. How could she go and have sex with Johnny Collins?
I walked out of the hotel room. All I had in my pocket was my wallet, cell phone, and the key to my hotel room. I opened the door, and saw Jeff watching infomercials on the TV. I needed to relax.
"Jeff?" I said. He picked his head up.
"What?"
"I'm going outside."
"Dude, it's almost two in the morning. Why are you going outside?"
"I need to relax. Do you have a lighter I can use?" I asked.
" Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine. I just need a cigarette."
"Okay. It's on the table over there." Jeff pointed to a table across from his bed, where I saw his lighter.
"Thanks."
I took the lighter, and went outside to the back of the hotel, where I lit my cigarette. I felt relaxed almost immediately, and it was probably a good thing. My fiancé, and the love of my life for over ten years, just had sex with the man that had almost destroyed our relationship when it first began. I didn't know who I hated more- Katie, for having sex with Johnny; or Johnny, for having sex with Katie.
**********
Katie's POV
It didn't hit me right away. In fact, it didn't hit me until the next morning, when I woke up and Pierre wasn't next to me. And the thing is, I couldn't blame him. I had messed up. I had messed up really, really badly. I had slept with Johnny Collins.
There was no way I could stay on the tour with Pierre for the next eighteen days. I had to go back home. So at almost two in the morning, I picked up my cell phone, and called American Airlines.
"Hi, this is American Airlines customer service, and my name is Kristin. How may I help you?" a cheery-sounding woman asked.
"Hi," I said. "I need to book the next available flight from Dallas to Montreal."
"The next flight from Dallas to Montreal leaves at 11:15. Can I please have your name and credit card number to purchase the ticket?"
"Yes, sure."
After I paid for my plane ticket and hung up the phone, I realized I had three hours until my flight. In a hurry, I started packing up my stuff. When I opened the door, I saw Seb standing there.
"Katie? Where are you going?" he said.
"I'm going to Montreal," I told him.
"Why? What happened?"
"I messed up. Last night I did something really stupid, and Pierre-" I was about to cry, and you could hear it in my voice.
"What? Are you okay?"
"I got drunk, and had sex with Johnny Collins. Pierre walked in on us."
"So… what's going on between you and Pierre?" Seb asked.
"I don't really know. Tell him the ring's on the nightstand, okay?"
I left quickly, and once in the hotel lobby, I called a cab to take me to the airport. I waited around for awhile in the airport, and by that afternoon, I was in the apartment in Montreal.
Of course, I didn't just sit there. I got a job working for A&R at a local indie record label, and I spent every single day there. The days weren't bad, nor were the evenings- I spent the days in the studio, listening to demo CDs and songs on Myspace, and the evenings at shows. I went to a concert every night. It was pretty cool. I liked seeing and discovering new bands.
But I'm not going to lie- the nights were tough. In the first week, Simple Plan played shows in Dallas, Houston, Denver, Phoenix, and Las Vegas. Every night, I called Seb and David, and they would tell me about the show, and how the tour was going. Sometimes they had stories about crazy fans- like those girls Emily and Sammy on the plane to Dallas- but whatever we talked about, we avoided the subjects of Johnny and Pierre. Sometimes I spoke to Jeff and Chuck, too. But I never spoke to Pierre.
The thing is, it was all my fault. I couldn't even begin to blame Pierre, because what had he done wrong? Nothing. I was the one who had fucked up. I had gotten drunk and had sex with Johnny Collins. Sure, Pierre was the one who had broken off the engagement, but it was my fault, not his.
For the first week, I stayed strong. I made it through each day intact, although that was kind of a miracle. I kept fighting. I kept struggling through. But the nights- every night, I cried, and every night, I wished I hadn't fucked up so badly. I hated myself for doing it. Too many drinks, and I had done something that was beyond stupid, and it had ruined my engagement.
Sure, I had matured a lot in the last ten years, but the truth is, I'm still Katie Williams. I'm still the same person I was when I first went out with Pierre. A box cutter in the corner kept catching my eye. And I resisted at first. I wanted so much to just grab it, but I didn't.
When you're at the end of the road
And you lost all sense of control
And your thoughts have taken their toll
When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul.
But that didn't last forever. Because guess what? Old habits die hard. Old habits that were formed in your sophomore year of high school. Old habits that originated when your boyfriend dumped you because he thought you were cheating on him (even though you really weren't). These old habits have a nasty tendency to come back when you cheat on your boyfriend (er, fiancé) with the same guy that so many years ago he thought you were cheating on him with (even though, back then, you really weren't), he finds out, and then you're left with no one and nothing.
I hadn't done it since that time at the end of sophomore year. Okay, that's not true. I did it in college. Once. But it was nothing. It was a little scratch. I put a band-aid on it, and I was fine. Alright, it wasn't just a scratch, and I wasn't fine. I went in to therapy for almost a year. But after that I was really fine. I was as fine as I'd ever be, anyway.
Since then, I hadn't even thought about cutting myself. Until I met up with Johnny Collins again, and I screwed everything up. Everything I'd had with Pierre, I screwed it up in one night. And this wasn't like that time I caught him kissing the cheerleading captain. I was able to forgive him for that, but we weren't engaged. We were two high school sophomores. We were stupid. We made mistakes, but nothing was ever that serious.
But then Pierre and I got engaged, and after barely a month, I screwed everything up. I ruined everything we'd ever had, in ten years, because I got drunk and hooked up with Johnny Collins. Why would I ever do that?
Maybe because I'm an idiot. Maybe because I'm stupid. Maybe because my subconscious hates me and wanted me to be miserable. Maybe because I'm a horrible person.
Or maybe it doesn't matter why I did it. Maybe all that matters is that I did it, and that now, I'm here, alone, and there's no one here to save me. My relationship with Pierre is ruined, and I was… alone. I hated it. I couldn't just go knock on Seb's door, or ask David to run over. That wasn't an option when they were thousands of miles away. I didn't want to talk about this with them, or with anyone.
I just wanted to give in. I was sick of fighting. Pierre might've cared about me, but whatever had existed between us obviously didn't matter to him anymore. What's the use in staying strong if the one person who matters most isn't there for you to stay strong for?
Your faith walks on broken glass
And the hangover doesn't pass
Nothing's ever built to last
You're in ruins.
I couldn't see the use. So I gave in.
One, 21 guns
Lay down your arms
Give up the fight
One, 21 guns
Throw up your arms into the sky,
You and I.
This chapter includes mention of self-harm that may be triggering. Do not read this chapter if you feel you are sensitive to such triggers. If you want to read a non-triggering version of the chapter, please send me an instant message (AIM- molliegym ; MSN- flipdude830@hotmail.com) and I'll do it.
**********
Pierre's POV
I was angry at Katie. I couldn't believe what she had done. How could she go and have sex with Johnny Collins?
I walked out of the hotel room. All I had in my pocket was my wallet, cell phone, and the key to my hotel room. I opened the door, and saw Jeff watching infomercials on the TV. I needed to relax.
"Jeff?" I said. He picked his head up.
"What?"
"I'm going outside."
"Dude, it's almost two in the morning. Why are you going outside?"
"I need to relax. Do you have a lighter I can use?" I asked.
" Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine. I just need a cigarette."
"Okay. It's on the table over there." Jeff pointed to a table across from his bed, where I saw his lighter.
"Thanks."
I took the lighter, and went outside to the back of the hotel, where I lit my cigarette. I felt relaxed almost immediately, and it was probably a good thing. My fiancé, and the love of my life for over ten years, just had sex with the man that had almost destroyed our relationship when it first began. I didn't know who I hated more- Katie, for having sex with Johnny; or Johnny, for having sex with Katie.
**********
Katie's POV
It didn't hit me right away. In fact, it didn't hit me until the next morning, when I woke up and Pierre wasn't next to me. And the thing is, I couldn't blame him. I had messed up. I had messed up really, really badly. I had slept with Johnny Collins.
There was no way I could stay on the tour with Pierre for the next eighteen days. I had to go back home. So at almost two in the morning, I picked up my cell phone, and called American Airlines.
"Hi, this is American Airlines customer service, and my name is Kristin. How may I help you?" a cheery-sounding woman asked.
"Hi," I said. "I need to book the next available flight from Dallas to Montreal."
"The next flight from Dallas to Montreal leaves at 11:15. Can I please have your name and credit card number to purchase the ticket?"
"Yes, sure."
After I paid for my plane ticket and hung up the phone, I realized I had three hours until my flight. In a hurry, I started packing up my stuff. When I opened the door, I saw Seb standing there.
"Katie? Where are you going?" he said.
"I'm going to Montreal," I told him.
"Why? What happened?"
"I messed up. Last night I did something really stupid, and Pierre-" I was about to cry, and you could hear it in my voice.
"What? Are you okay?"
"I got drunk, and had sex with Johnny Collins. Pierre walked in on us."
"So… what's going on between you and Pierre?" Seb asked.
"I don't really know. Tell him the ring's on the nightstand, okay?"
I left quickly, and once in the hotel lobby, I called a cab to take me to the airport. I waited around for awhile in the airport, and by that afternoon, I was in the apartment in Montreal.
Of course, I didn't just sit there. I got a job working for A&R at a local indie record label, and I spent every single day there. The days weren't bad, nor were the evenings- I spent the days in the studio, listening to demo CDs and songs on Myspace, and the evenings at shows. I went to a concert every night. It was pretty cool. I liked seeing and discovering new bands.
But I'm not going to lie- the nights were tough. In the first week, Simple Plan played shows in Dallas, Houston, Denver, Phoenix, and Las Vegas. Every night, I called Seb and David, and they would tell me about the show, and how the tour was going. Sometimes they had stories about crazy fans- like those girls Emily and Sammy on the plane to Dallas- but whatever we talked about, we avoided the subjects of Johnny and Pierre. Sometimes I spoke to Jeff and Chuck, too. But I never spoke to Pierre.
The thing is, it was all my fault. I couldn't even begin to blame Pierre, because what had he done wrong? Nothing. I was the one who had fucked up. I had gotten drunk and had sex with Johnny Collins. Sure, Pierre was the one who had broken off the engagement, but it was my fault, not his.
For the first week, I stayed strong. I made it through each day intact, although that was kind of a miracle. I kept fighting. I kept struggling through. But the nights- every night, I cried, and every night, I wished I hadn't fucked up so badly. I hated myself for doing it. Too many drinks, and I had done something that was beyond stupid, and it had ruined my engagement.
Sure, I had matured a lot in the last ten years, but the truth is, I'm still Katie Williams. I'm still the same person I was when I first went out with Pierre. A box cutter in the corner kept catching my eye. And I resisted at first. I wanted so much to just grab it, but I didn't.
When you're at the end of the road
And you lost all sense of control
And your thoughts have taken their toll
When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul.
But that didn't last forever. Because guess what? Old habits die hard. Old habits that were formed in your sophomore year of high school. Old habits that originated when your boyfriend dumped you because he thought you were cheating on him (even though you really weren't). These old habits have a nasty tendency to come back when you cheat on your boyfriend (er, fiancé) with the same guy that so many years ago he thought you were cheating on him with (even though, back then, you really weren't), he finds out, and then you're left with no one and nothing.
I hadn't done it since that time at the end of sophomore year. Okay, that's not true. I did it in college. Once. But it was nothing. It was a little scratch. I put a band-aid on it, and I was fine. Alright, it wasn't just a scratch, and I wasn't fine. I went in to therapy for almost a year. But after that I was really fine. I was as fine as I'd ever be, anyway.
Since then, I hadn't even thought about cutting myself. Until I met up with Johnny Collins again, and I screwed everything up. Everything I'd had with Pierre, I screwed it up in one night. And this wasn't like that time I caught him kissing the cheerleading captain. I was able to forgive him for that, but we weren't engaged. We were two high school sophomores. We were stupid. We made mistakes, but nothing was ever that serious.
But then Pierre and I got engaged, and after barely a month, I screwed everything up. I ruined everything we'd ever had, in ten years, because I got drunk and hooked up with Johnny Collins. Why would I ever do that?
Maybe because I'm an idiot. Maybe because I'm stupid. Maybe because my subconscious hates me and wanted me to be miserable. Maybe because I'm a horrible person.
Or maybe it doesn't matter why I did it. Maybe all that matters is that I did it, and that now, I'm here, alone, and there's no one here to save me. My relationship with Pierre is ruined, and I was… alone. I hated it. I couldn't just go knock on Seb's door, or ask David to run over. That wasn't an option when they were thousands of miles away. I didn't want to talk about this with them, or with anyone.
I just wanted to give in. I was sick of fighting. Pierre might've cared about me, but whatever had existed between us obviously didn't matter to him anymore. What's the use in staying strong if the one person who matters most isn't there for you to stay strong for?
Your faith walks on broken glass
And the hangover doesn't pass
Nothing's ever built to last
You're in ruins.
I couldn't see the use. So I gave in.
One, 21 guns
Lay down your arms
Give up the fight
One, 21 guns
Throw up your arms into the sky,
You and I.
6- The Ocean Is On Fire
Chapter title and song lyrics from "The War" by Angels & Airwaves.
**********
Katie's POV
I watched the concert from backstage, listening to Simple Plan.
"Has anyone ever heard a song called 'Shut Up?'" Pierre yelled into the microphone. Judging by their response, they had, and apparently, several of them loved Pierre, too.
Jeff, Seb, Chuck, and David started playing the song. Pierre sang, and when he was done, looked out at the audience.
"That was awesome!" David said. "Pierre, I think they love you." David winked at Pierre, gesturing towards the fans.
"You guys are looking pretty sexy tonight!" They screamed again. "Alright now. This last song is a cover. It's called 'Jaded', by one of the best bands in the world, Mest, and it's dedicated to a woman named Katie, who I am lucky enough to be able to call my fiancé."
It wasn't the first time Pierre had dedicated "Jaded" to me, but I hadn't yet gotten sick of it. I still loved it. The song brought me back to a more innocent time between us.
Just as "Jaded" was finished and Pierre and David were saying goodbye to the crowd, Johnny walked up to me. I had been sitting on a couch backstage, but I stood up to greet him.
"How are you?" I asked. "Oh my god, I still can't believe you're living in Dallas."
"Coincidence, huh?"
"Totally. I hadn't seen you since high school, but- now you're here, I just can't believe it. We really need to catch up."
"Definitely! I don't know if you have plans, but do you maybe want to go and get something to drink?" He suggested. "I know a great place not far from here."
"Sure, that sounds good. Uh, could you hold on a minute? I need to go talk to Pierre." I told him, and walked over to Pierre.
"Hey," I said to him. "What's wrong? You look angry."
"I'm not angry," he said, "just… annoyed. I never really liked Johnny." I knew what he was thinking, and it bothered me a bit.
"Pierre, Johnny never did anything wrong. I never went on a date with him, I never liked him as more than a friend."
"Yeah, I know, but I always thought he was kind of-"
"Kind of what?"
"Kind of… I don't know. Something about him just doesn't seem right. I don't want you to get hurt, and I don't want anything to happen to us." He said, an earnest look in his eyes.
"So come with us. I'm sure Johnny would love for you to come with us." I put my hands on Pierre's shoulders, and looked in to his brown eyes. "Please. I want you to come."
"I can't. Me and the band are going out for late-night barbecue." Yeah, we're in Texas alright. Barbecue in Texas is like pizza in New York. In New York, and even in Chicago, there's nothing like pizza at midnight. In Texas, barbecue is the food of choice, or at least it is for Simple Plan; barbecue doesn't really exist in Montreal, and apparently, the band members like having it when they can. "The security guys, Lenny and Mo, they told us about a great place a few blocks away."
"So… how about me and Johnny come with you? Simple Plan, Plain White Ts, Matchbook Romance, plus me and Johnny- it'll be fun." I thought it sounded like a good idea, but Pierre's face was looking strained. "What's wrong?"
"I love you, but… this is kind of… a guys thing. Plain White Ts and Matchbook aren't coming. I need a night to just be with my friends." I wasn't happy, but I understood.
"Okay." I said. He kissed me on the lips. I smiled. "I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too. See you later."
"I will. Call me." One more kiss. "Bye," I said, and walked over to Johnny.
"Hey, you ready?" Johnny said.
"Definitely. Let's go."
Johnny took me to his car, where he opened the passenger door for me to let me in. When we got to the bar, he parked, and opened the door for me to let me out.
"Thanks," I said.
"You're welcome."
He led me in to the bar, which was only a few blocks away from the hotel where I was staying with Pierre and the rest of Simple Plan. This was definitely not a posh, upscale New York club, but it wasn't a seedy joint somewhere in Pittsburgh. It was just an average, everyday bar. It didn't smell significantly like smoke, either, which was nice.
Johnny and I walked up to the bar.
"What can I get for you?" The bartender, a man that looked a few years older than me, asked.
"What kind of beer do you have on tap?" I inquired. I didn't normally drink beer, but tonight, it was what I wanted.
"We've got a Miller, Budweiser and Sam Adams," he told me.
"I'll have a Sam Adams." I decided.
"I'll have the same," Johnny said. The bartender poured our beers, and I paid for them. We sat down at a table.
"So… tell me about your life since high school," I said.
"Well, after we graduated, I went to McGill University. I always loved playing basketball, and I studied English because I always liked to read, so English kind of made sense." We both smiled.
Johnny was in my English class sophomore year, and again in junior year. I always liked discussing the books with him; he wasn't cocky, but he was intelligent, and always had something interesting to say about whatever we were reading.
"How did you get in to teaching?" I asked.
"Well, honestly, English is really such a… vague subject in terms of getting a job, you know? I didn't want to just work in a cubicle, and I always liked the idea of having summers off, and I liked kids, so I guess that's what got me in to it. I was lucky that the middle school needed a basketball coach, too. I really like coaching."
"Yeah, I'm sure you do. It seems like something you'd be good at."
"I guess." He shrugged. "The team went to the state finals last year." I could tell he was trying to hide it, but he was definitely proud.
"That's great," I said. "That's really great."
"Yeah. So, enough about me. Tell me about you."
And I did. I told Johnny about my years at the University of Toronto, and then about living in British Columbia, and then about my job- I had been working at a music store, but was planning to do A&R for Atlantic.
Soon enough, I was done with my beer.
"I'll go get you another one," Johnny offered, and before I could say no, had gone off to get me another beer.
"Here you go," he said, and put two beers- one for each of us- on the table.
When I took a sip of that second beer, I was feeling buzzed. When I started on the third, I was a little more tipsy, and I was feeling significantly more open than normal. I'm not sure what caused me to drink so much, but by the time I finished the fifth, I was [/drunk/].
"Let's go back to my hotel room," I suggested to Johnny. I should probably mention that by that point, I was sitting almost on top of Johnny, and had kissed him more than once.
"Won't Pierre catch us?"
"Nah, he'll be out for awhile. Come on, let's go. You can drive, it'll be faster that way."
"Yeah, let's go out to the car." Stumbling a bit, we walked out to Johnny's car. There were no other cars in the road, or at least I don't think there were, because Johnny pretty much drove straight to the hotel parking lot without stopping. Once we were at the hotel, I led the way up to the room.
As soon as I locked the door, we both began undressing. I was sweating, and my heart raced as we collapsed on the bed.
You can pretty much guess what happened from there. I was so drunk, I didn't realize the consequences of what I was doing. It seemed like a good idea.
Johnny was still naked and on top of me when Pierre burst in.
"What the hell is going on here?" He yelled.
"Oh, me and Johnny, we were…" I began, trying to find my words, though it was hard.
"Making love." Johnny said, slurring his words a bit.
"Yeah, I figured that." Pierre said. As drunk as I was, I could tell he was [/mad/]. "Get out." He said to Johnny. "You, get the fuck out!"
"No need to say anymore," Johnny pulled his pants on- backwards, no less- grabbed his keys, and walked out the door.
"What the hell is going on, Katie? What the hell are you doing?" Pierre shouted at me.
"I had a few beers, so what?"
"How many?"
"Five?" I shrugged.
"I can't believe this. Ten years ago, I mistakenly thought you were cheating on me with Johnny Collins. Now, you're twenty-five, and you just hooked up with him!"
"Pierre, me and Johnny, we just…"
"Katie, don't try to lie. I saw. I'm not an idiot, alright?"
"I'm sorry, I'm… a little drunk."
"Yeah, cuz you accepted that excuse when I used it." Pierre said sarcastically. "Look, I'm mad. I'm really mad. I'm gonna go crash in Jeff's room."
"Pierre, what's going on?" I was still pretty drunk, and I was struggling to think clearly.
"Don't pretend like you don't know what's going on."
"What?"
"Oh, come on. Stop pretending like you don't know."
"What do you mean Pierre?"
"What do I mean? What do you think I mean?"
And suddenly, I had a feeling I knew what he meant.
"You're not… you can't… Pierre, you can't break off the engagement over this."
"Really? Cuz I'm pretty sure I can."
The ocean, is on fire
The sky turned dark again
As the boats came in.
And the beaches
Stretched out with soldiers
With their arms and guns
It has just begun.
**********
Katie's POV
I watched the concert from backstage, listening to Simple Plan.
"Has anyone ever heard a song called 'Shut Up?'" Pierre yelled into the microphone. Judging by their response, they had, and apparently, several of them loved Pierre, too.
Jeff, Seb, Chuck, and David started playing the song. Pierre sang, and when he was done, looked out at the audience.
"That was awesome!" David said. "Pierre, I think they love you." David winked at Pierre, gesturing towards the fans.
"You guys are looking pretty sexy tonight!" They screamed again. "Alright now. This last song is a cover. It's called 'Jaded', by one of the best bands in the world, Mest, and it's dedicated to a woman named Katie, who I am lucky enough to be able to call my fiancé."
It wasn't the first time Pierre had dedicated "Jaded" to me, but I hadn't yet gotten sick of it. I still loved it. The song brought me back to a more innocent time between us.
Just as "Jaded" was finished and Pierre and David were saying goodbye to the crowd, Johnny walked up to me. I had been sitting on a couch backstage, but I stood up to greet him.
"How are you?" I asked. "Oh my god, I still can't believe you're living in Dallas."
"Coincidence, huh?"
"Totally. I hadn't seen you since high school, but- now you're here, I just can't believe it. We really need to catch up."
"Definitely! I don't know if you have plans, but do you maybe want to go and get something to drink?" He suggested. "I know a great place not far from here."
"Sure, that sounds good. Uh, could you hold on a minute? I need to go talk to Pierre." I told him, and walked over to Pierre.
"Hey," I said to him. "What's wrong? You look angry."
"I'm not angry," he said, "just… annoyed. I never really liked Johnny." I knew what he was thinking, and it bothered me a bit.
"Pierre, Johnny never did anything wrong. I never went on a date with him, I never liked him as more than a friend."
"Yeah, I know, but I always thought he was kind of-"
"Kind of what?"
"Kind of… I don't know. Something about him just doesn't seem right. I don't want you to get hurt, and I don't want anything to happen to us." He said, an earnest look in his eyes.
"So come with us. I'm sure Johnny would love for you to come with us." I put my hands on Pierre's shoulders, and looked in to his brown eyes. "Please. I want you to come."
"I can't. Me and the band are going out for late-night barbecue." Yeah, we're in Texas alright. Barbecue in Texas is like pizza in New York. In New York, and even in Chicago, there's nothing like pizza at midnight. In Texas, barbecue is the food of choice, or at least it is for Simple Plan; barbecue doesn't really exist in Montreal, and apparently, the band members like having it when they can. "The security guys, Lenny and Mo, they told us about a great place a few blocks away."
"So… how about me and Johnny come with you? Simple Plan, Plain White Ts, Matchbook Romance, plus me and Johnny- it'll be fun." I thought it sounded like a good idea, but Pierre's face was looking strained. "What's wrong?"
"I love you, but… this is kind of… a guys thing. Plain White Ts and Matchbook aren't coming. I need a night to just be with my friends." I wasn't happy, but I understood.
"Okay." I said. He kissed me on the lips. I smiled. "I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too. See you later."
"I will. Call me." One more kiss. "Bye," I said, and walked over to Johnny.
"Hey, you ready?" Johnny said.
"Definitely. Let's go."
Johnny took me to his car, where he opened the passenger door for me to let me in. When we got to the bar, he parked, and opened the door for me to let me out.
"Thanks," I said.
"You're welcome."
He led me in to the bar, which was only a few blocks away from the hotel where I was staying with Pierre and the rest of Simple Plan. This was definitely not a posh, upscale New York club, but it wasn't a seedy joint somewhere in Pittsburgh. It was just an average, everyday bar. It didn't smell significantly like smoke, either, which was nice.
Johnny and I walked up to the bar.
"What can I get for you?" The bartender, a man that looked a few years older than me, asked.
"What kind of beer do you have on tap?" I inquired. I didn't normally drink beer, but tonight, it was what I wanted.
"We've got a Miller, Budweiser and Sam Adams," he told me.
"I'll have a Sam Adams." I decided.
"I'll have the same," Johnny said. The bartender poured our beers, and I paid for them. We sat down at a table.
"So… tell me about your life since high school," I said.
"Well, after we graduated, I went to McGill University. I always loved playing basketball, and I studied English because I always liked to read, so English kind of made sense." We both smiled.
Johnny was in my English class sophomore year, and again in junior year. I always liked discussing the books with him; he wasn't cocky, but he was intelligent, and always had something interesting to say about whatever we were reading.
"How did you get in to teaching?" I asked.
"Well, honestly, English is really such a… vague subject in terms of getting a job, you know? I didn't want to just work in a cubicle, and I always liked the idea of having summers off, and I liked kids, so I guess that's what got me in to it. I was lucky that the middle school needed a basketball coach, too. I really like coaching."
"Yeah, I'm sure you do. It seems like something you'd be good at."
"I guess." He shrugged. "The team went to the state finals last year." I could tell he was trying to hide it, but he was definitely proud.
"That's great," I said. "That's really great."
"Yeah. So, enough about me. Tell me about you."
And I did. I told Johnny about my years at the University of Toronto, and then about living in British Columbia, and then about my job- I had been working at a music store, but was planning to do A&R for Atlantic.
Soon enough, I was done with my beer.
"I'll go get you another one," Johnny offered, and before I could say no, had gone off to get me another beer.
"Here you go," he said, and put two beers- one for each of us- on the table.
When I took a sip of that second beer, I was feeling buzzed. When I started on the third, I was a little more tipsy, and I was feeling significantly more open than normal. I'm not sure what caused me to drink so much, but by the time I finished the fifth, I was [/drunk/].
"Let's go back to my hotel room," I suggested to Johnny. I should probably mention that by that point, I was sitting almost on top of Johnny, and had kissed him more than once.
"Won't Pierre catch us?"
"Nah, he'll be out for awhile. Come on, let's go. You can drive, it'll be faster that way."
"Yeah, let's go out to the car." Stumbling a bit, we walked out to Johnny's car. There were no other cars in the road, or at least I don't think there were, because Johnny pretty much drove straight to the hotel parking lot without stopping. Once we were at the hotel, I led the way up to the room.
As soon as I locked the door, we both began undressing. I was sweating, and my heart raced as we collapsed on the bed.
You can pretty much guess what happened from there. I was so drunk, I didn't realize the consequences of what I was doing. It seemed like a good idea.
Johnny was still naked and on top of me when Pierre burst in.
"What the hell is going on here?" He yelled.
"Oh, me and Johnny, we were…" I began, trying to find my words, though it was hard.
"Making love." Johnny said, slurring his words a bit.
"Yeah, I figured that." Pierre said. As drunk as I was, I could tell he was [/mad/]. "Get out." He said to Johnny. "You, get the fuck out!"
"No need to say anymore," Johnny pulled his pants on- backwards, no less- grabbed his keys, and walked out the door.
"What the hell is going on, Katie? What the hell are you doing?" Pierre shouted at me.
"I had a few beers, so what?"
"How many?"
"Five?" I shrugged.
"I can't believe this. Ten years ago, I mistakenly thought you were cheating on me with Johnny Collins. Now, you're twenty-five, and you just hooked up with him!"
"Pierre, me and Johnny, we just…"
"Katie, don't try to lie. I saw. I'm not an idiot, alright?"
"I'm sorry, I'm… a little drunk."
"Yeah, cuz you accepted that excuse when I used it." Pierre said sarcastically. "Look, I'm mad. I'm really mad. I'm gonna go crash in Jeff's room."
"Pierre, what's going on?" I was still pretty drunk, and I was struggling to think clearly.
"Don't pretend like you don't know what's going on."
"What?"
"Oh, come on. Stop pretending like you don't know."
"What do you mean Pierre?"
"What do I mean? What do you think I mean?"
And suddenly, I had a feeling I knew what he meant.
"You're not… you can't… Pierre, you can't break off the engagement over this."
"Really? Cuz I'm pretty sure I can."
The ocean, is on fire
The sky turned dark again
As the boats came in.
And the beaches
Stretched out with soldiers
With their arms and guns
It has just begun.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
5- Forever Young
**********
Soon enough, our food arrived- a total of twenty-one chocolate chip pancakes, and twenty-eight strips of bacon. The bill was split seven ways, but Pierre wouldn't allow me to pay for myself. As we walked out of the restaurant, Jeff, Seb, Chuck, David, and Pat headed upstairs, presumably to rest before sound check.
"Are you coming with us?" David asked.
"Nope, we've got some wedding planning to do this morning." Pierre informed him. "Catch up with you later."
So we headed outside, and looked for a place that would be good to talk. We settled on a Starbucks a few blocks down from the hotel. Pierre ordered drinks for both of us.
"So the wedding." He said after he sat down and placed a mint chocolate chip frappucino (my favorite) in front of me.
"The wedding." I smiled.
"Are you excited?" He inquired, seeing the grin on my face.
"Yes," I told him, and sipped my cappuccino.
"When do you think we should have it?"
"What about next August or September?" I suggested. "It'll give us plenty of time to plan it, and the weather will be really nice."
"I think that's a great idea," he agreed. "Now, do you want to do it in Montreal? I mean, we could do it in Toronto, or B.C., or New Jersey…"
"Montreal, I think. That's where all my family lives. I want my parents to be there."
"Yeah. Me too," Pierre said. He was smiling, and looking at me with a strange look. "What?" he said when he caught me looking at him looking at me.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked.
"Because you're beautiful. Because I love you. Because I'm the luckiest man in the world and I get to marry you."
**********
After we finished our drinks, Pierre and I decided to walk around the neighborhood. We walked past the Boston Science Museum, and saw a bunch of people wearing sweatshirts that said "Massachusetts Institute of Technology", or "MIT". There was a big group of them, including a redhead wearing a crimson hoodie that clashed horribly with her hair. Some of the people in that group were wearing shirts featured extremely complicated equations that I couldn't even hope to understand; I knew they were from MIT because no one else would wear a shirt that essentially stated, "Why yes, I am smarter than you." I couldn't decide who was more obnoxious- the MIT eggheads, who seemed to speak only in complex calculus equations; or the snooty Harvard students we saw down the block, who seemed to have their noses permanently stuck in the air.
The show was amazing, as usual. Once again, Pierre dedicated "Jaded" to me. He dedicated it to me at every show over the next two weeks.
I loved getting to see all the different cities, even if it was only for a day or two- we went to Buffalo, New York; Pittsburgh; Philadelphia; Washington, D.C.; New York City; and Sayreville, New Jersey. The day after the concert in Sayreville, we had some time before our flight, so I took Pierre around my old neighborhood in Short Hills, and even showed him my old house. After that, it was time to go to the airport.
"So where exactly are we going now?" I asked after we had gone through security.
"Texas, apparently," said David, who was walking next to me. "Hey, wait a second Katie, didn't you live in Texas?"
"Yeah, I grew up outside of Dallas. What city is the show in?"
"It's at the American Airlines Center."
"No way! That's like half an hour from my old house."
"Seriously?" Pierre said.
"Yea! Oh, man, I'll have to show to show you the house I grew up in, my old school… this is going to be way more exciting than New Jersey."
We headed over towards our gate. Pierre, being the gentleman that he is, offered to carry my purse for me. I had to admit that the zebra print fabric quite nicely complemented his t-shirt.
**********
I had an aisle seat on the plane. Pierre was in the middle, and David was by the window. Chuck, Pat, and Seb were behind us, but lucky Jeff sat in a window seat across from us. We were able to board early, and had no problem getting to our seats.
Pierre and David were engrossed in conversation about the next night's show. I was looking at the Skymall catalog, and occasionally looked up to see the passengers. None of them seemed interesting, and none seemed to acknowledge the fact that Simple Plan was on the plane.
That is, until we saw two teenage girls, chewing gum and talking excitedly about- well, whatever it is fourteen-year-olds talk about. Jeff had gone to the bathroom, and Pierre's back was to the girl.
I figured they were just normal teenage girls, but of course, one of them had a Simple Plan button on the backpack she shoved in to the overhead. I put down the Skymall catalog and listened closer to their conversation.
"Emily, oh my god, Simple Plan is having a concert in Dallas tomorrow! Ohhhh, my god, we are [/so/] lucky we're coming back today!"
"Sammy, I know! This is soooo cool! I love Simple Plan. Wouldn't it be so weird if-"
"If they were on this flight? That would be like so awesome!"
"Oh my god, totally!"
Emily and Sammy continued talking for another minute or two, until Jeff arrived.
"Excuse me, girls," he said. Emily and Sammy saw Jeff and then-
"Oh my god, you're Jeff from Simple Plan! Oh my god, I love Simple Plan! Will you sign my CD? Can we take a picture with you?"
"Uh- yeah, sure. Do you think I could sit down first?"
Jeff was going to have a long flight. An hour in to the flight, I could tell he was getting tired of Emily and Sammy. They had stopped talking to him, but I couldn't blame him for being annoyed at their conversations, which seemed to revolve around Jeff, and only Jeff.
"Jeff!" I said when he stood up to go to the bathroom (or maybe just to get away from Emily and Sammy).
"What?"
"If those girls like you, why don't you introduce them to my fiancé?" I suggested.
"Good idea. I think I'll do that," he said.
Then Jeff introduced Emily and Sammy to Pierre, David, Chuck, and Seb. The only side effect was that I had two teenage girls almost on top of me, screaming in my ear.
Once the girls finally sat down, the flight was almost done. We landed in Dallas without a problem.
The boys were all starving, so I suggested a restaurant that had been a favorite of mine as a little kid. We got seated quickly, despite the fact that there was a long line of people waiting outside. Our waitress took our order for drinks, and then we ordered our food. The restaurant was well-known for its hamburgers and French fries, so we all had burgers with various toppings.
Midway through the meal, I had to go to the bathroom.
"I'll be right back," I said to Pierre, and went to the women's room. I did my business, and when I walked out, I bumped in to someone.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bump in to you. I wasn't looking wear I was going." I apologized, all the while not managing to look the person in the face.
"It's okay, it's really not that big of a deal." The person- a male- replied. I looked him in the face, and realized he looked familiar. "Hey, wait a second- Katie Williams?"
"Johnny Collins?" I was surprised to see him in Dallas.
"How are you?" he said. "You look great."
"You too! What are you doing in Dallas?"
"I live here. After college, I decided I was sick of the cold weather, so I moved from Quebec to Dallas. I teach English and coach basketball at Dallas Middle School." He said with a smile. Somewhere in the years since we had graduated high school, he had gotten his somewhat crooked front teeth fixed and whitened. His face had always been attractive, but it was more mature looking, and his skin had cleared up. His once curly hair was straighter than before. Johnny Collins had grown up, and growing up looked good on him.
"Are you serious? I grew up here. I went to DMS!" I told him excitedly.
"Really? Wow!" He seemed surprised. "So are you just here to visit?"
"My fiancé's band has a show at the American Airlines Center tonight," I informed him.
"American Airlines Center? That's Plain White Ts and Matchbook Romance, and… Simple Plan. Are you still with- what's his name-"
"Pierre? Well, we broke up after high school, but a couple years ago, we got back together, and he proposed earlier this month." I said, showing Johnny the ring.
"Wow, that's great. I, uh- I have to get going now, my wife is probably wondering where I am. Are you going to be at the show tonight?" He asked.
"Of course! Are you coming?"
"Yeah! Maybe we can catch up a little more after the show?"
I reached in to my purse and pulled out a backstage pass. "Here," I said, giving it to him. "Come backstage after the show. I'm glad to see you again."
"Yeah, me too."
A/N- Yeah, Johnny Collins is back. *grins*
Soon enough, our food arrived- a total of twenty-one chocolate chip pancakes, and twenty-eight strips of bacon. The bill was split seven ways, but Pierre wouldn't allow me to pay for myself. As we walked out of the restaurant, Jeff, Seb, Chuck, David, and Pat headed upstairs, presumably to rest before sound check.
"Are you coming with us?" David asked.
"Nope, we've got some wedding planning to do this morning." Pierre informed him. "Catch up with you later."
So we headed outside, and looked for a place that would be good to talk. We settled on a Starbucks a few blocks down from the hotel. Pierre ordered drinks for both of us.
"So the wedding." He said after he sat down and placed a mint chocolate chip frappucino (my favorite) in front of me.
"The wedding." I smiled.
"Are you excited?" He inquired, seeing the grin on my face.
"Yes," I told him, and sipped my cappuccino.
"When do you think we should have it?"
"What about next August or September?" I suggested. "It'll give us plenty of time to plan it, and the weather will be really nice."
"I think that's a great idea," he agreed. "Now, do you want to do it in Montreal? I mean, we could do it in Toronto, or B.C., or New Jersey…"
"Montreal, I think. That's where all my family lives. I want my parents to be there."
"Yeah. Me too," Pierre said. He was smiling, and looking at me with a strange look. "What?" he said when he caught me looking at him looking at me.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked.
"Because you're beautiful. Because I love you. Because I'm the luckiest man in the world and I get to marry you."
**********
After we finished our drinks, Pierre and I decided to walk around the neighborhood. We walked past the Boston Science Museum, and saw a bunch of people wearing sweatshirts that said "Massachusetts Institute of Technology", or "MIT". There was a big group of them, including a redhead wearing a crimson hoodie that clashed horribly with her hair. Some of the people in that group were wearing shirts featured extremely complicated equations that I couldn't even hope to understand; I knew they were from MIT because no one else would wear a shirt that essentially stated, "Why yes, I am smarter than you." I couldn't decide who was more obnoxious- the MIT eggheads, who seemed to speak only in complex calculus equations; or the snooty Harvard students we saw down the block, who seemed to have their noses permanently stuck in the air.
The show was amazing, as usual. Once again, Pierre dedicated "Jaded" to me. He dedicated it to me at every show over the next two weeks.
I loved getting to see all the different cities, even if it was only for a day or two- we went to Buffalo, New York; Pittsburgh; Philadelphia; Washington, D.C.; New York City; and Sayreville, New Jersey. The day after the concert in Sayreville, we had some time before our flight, so I took Pierre around my old neighborhood in Short Hills, and even showed him my old house. After that, it was time to go to the airport.
"So where exactly are we going now?" I asked after we had gone through security.
"Texas, apparently," said David, who was walking next to me. "Hey, wait a second Katie, didn't you live in Texas?"
"Yeah, I grew up outside of Dallas. What city is the show in?"
"It's at the American Airlines Center."
"No way! That's like half an hour from my old house."
"Seriously?" Pierre said.
"Yea! Oh, man, I'll have to show to show you the house I grew up in, my old school… this is going to be way more exciting than New Jersey."
We headed over towards our gate. Pierre, being the gentleman that he is, offered to carry my purse for me. I had to admit that the zebra print fabric quite nicely complemented his t-shirt.
**********
I had an aisle seat on the plane. Pierre was in the middle, and David was by the window. Chuck, Pat, and Seb were behind us, but lucky Jeff sat in a window seat across from us. We were able to board early, and had no problem getting to our seats.
Pierre and David were engrossed in conversation about the next night's show. I was looking at the Skymall catalog, and occasionally looked up to see the passengers. None of them seemed interesting, and none seemed to acknowledge the fact that Simple Plan was on the plane.
That is, until we saw two teenage girls, chewing gum and talking excitedly about- well, whatever it is fourteen-year-olds talk about. Jeff had gone to the bathroom, and Pierre's back was to the girl.
I figured they were just normal teenage girls, but of course, one of them had a Simple Plan button on the backpack she shoved in to the overhead. I put down the Skymall catalog and listened closer to their conversation.
"Emily, oh my god, Simple Plan is having a concert in Dallas tomorrow! Ohhhh, my god, we are [/so/] lucky we're coming back today!"
"Sammy, I know! This is soooo cool! I love Simple Plan. Wouldn't it be so weird if-"
"If they were on this flight? That would be like so awesome!"
"Oh my god, totally!"
Emily and Sammy continued talking for another minute or two, until Jeff arrived.
"Excuse me, girls," he said. Emily and Sammy saw Jeff and then-
"Oh my god, you're Jeff from Simple Plan! Oh my god, I love Simple Plan! Will you sign my CD? Can we take a picture with you?"
"Uh- yeah, sure. Do you think I could sit down first?"
Jeff was going to have a long flight. An hour in to the flight, I could tell he was getting tired of Emily and Sammy. They had stopped talking to him, but I couldn't blame him for being annoyed at their conversations, which seemed to revolve around Jeff, and only Jeff.
"Jeff!" I said when he stood up to go to the bathroom (or maybe just to get away from Emily and Sammy).
"What?"
"If those girls like you, why don't you introduce them to my fiancé?" I suggested.
"Good idea. I think I'll do that," he said.
Then Jeff introduced Emily and Sammy to Pierre, David, Chuck, and Seb. The only side effect was that I had two teenage girls almost on top of me, screaming in my ear.
Once the girls finally sat down, the flight was almost done. We landed in Dallas without a problem.
The boys were all starving, so I suggested a restaurant that had been a favorite of mine as a little kid. We got seated quickly, despite the fact that there was a long line of people waiting outside. Our waitress took our order for drinks, and then we ordered our food. The restaurant was well-known for its hamburgers and French fries, so we all had burgers with various toppings.
Midway through the meal, I had to go to the bathroom.
"I'll be right back," I said to Pierre, and went to the women's room. I did my business, and when I walked out, I bumped in to someone.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bump in to you. I wasn't looking wear I was going." I apologized, all the while not managing to look the person in the face.
"It's okay, it's really not that big of a deal." The person- a male- replied. I looked him in the face, and realized he looked familiar. "Hey, wait a second- Katie Williams?"
"Johnny Collins?" I was surprised to see him in Dallas.
"How are you?" he said. "You look great."
"You too! What are you doing in Dallas?"
"I live here. After college, I decided I was sick of the cold weather, so I moved from Quebec to Dallas. I teach English and coach basketball at Dallas Middle School." He said with a smile. Somewhere in the years since we had graduated high school, he had gotten his somewhat crooked front teeth fixed and whitened. His face had always been attractive, but it was more mature looking, and his skin had cleared up. His once curly hair was straighter than before. Johnny Collins had grown up, and growing up looked good on him.
"Are you serious? I grew up here. I went to DMS!" I told him excitedly.
"Really? Wow!" He seemed surprised. "So are you just here to visit?"
"My fiancé's band has a show at the American Airlines Center tonight," I informed him.
"American Airlines Center? That's Plain White Ts and Matchbook Romance, and… Simple Plan. Are you still with- what's his name-"
"Pierre? Well, we broke up after high school, but a couple years ago, we got back together, and he proposed earlier this month." I said, showing Johnny the ring.
"Wow, that's great. I, uh- I have to get going now, my wife is probably wondering where I am. Are you going to be at the show tonight?" He asked.
"Of course! Are you coming?"
"Yeah! Maybe we can catch up a little more after the show?"
I reached in to my purse and pulled out a backstage pass. "Here," I said, giving it to him. "Come backstage after the show. I'm glad to see you again."
"Yeah, me too."
A/N- Yeah, Johnny Collins is back. *grins*
4- Top Of The World
**********
"I think I'm done skating," I told him.
"I think I am, too", Pierre agreed. "I'll help you up." So he took my hands, and helped me stand up. We skated together (carefully) to the exit, where he surprised me by kissing me again.
After returning our skates, Pierre led the way to the T and back to our hotel. I decided to turn the TV on. The cable channel it was on was showing Degrassi: The Next Generation, which was apparently some sort of sequel to the Degrassi I grew up with. I was enjoying the show, when all of a sudden, someone knocked on the door.
"It's open." Pierre shouted, and in came Seb.
"What are you watching?" Seb asked. Then he saw what was on screen. "Degrassi!"
"I know!" I said excitedly. "That blonde girl, that's Emma!"
"Spike's kid? No way!"
"Yeah, and that kid with the curly brown hair-"
"The one with the camera?"
"Yeah, him. He's Joey's step-son." I told Seb.
"No way!"
"Yes way! And see that guy, the old one?"
"Mr. Raditch! This show is-"
"Amazing, I know," Pierre interrupted. He rolled his eyes; he had never shared mine and Seb's enthusiasm for Degrassi.
"The rest of us are going for Italian on the North End. Are you two coming?" Seb asked Pierre.
"Actually, I already have plans for me and Katie tonight," Pierre told him. "Thanks, though."
"Alright, see you later." Seb left the room.
"So where are we going?" I asked Pierre.
"I'm not telling you," he said, showing me that wonderful grin of his that I had fallen in love with so many years ago. "But I will tell you one thing."
"What?"
"You're beautiful," Pierre informed me. "You really are."
"Thank you."
"So, you know I have plans for us tonight."
"I know. And you said you wouldn't tell me where we're going."
"I know." God, how I loved his smile, especially when it was that sarcastic grin he was using right now.
**********
The TV was still showing Degrassi, but I wasn't paying much attention to it. I was too busy kissing (and, okay, maybe doing a little more than kissing) Pierre.
Eventually, it was time to go out to dinner. I wore a black dress and heels, and carried a small black purse. I put on diamond earrings, which happened to look great with my ring- I guess Pierre knew my taste in jewelry.
Pierre called a cab, and handed the driver a slip of paper which I assumed had the address of the restaurant on it.
"Oh, is it a special occasion tonight?" The cab driver asked Pierre, as we got in.
"Just taking my fiancé out for dinner," he said.
"Lucky woman," the driver said. "And you, lucky, too. She's beautiful."
"I'm the luckiest man in the world."
**********
A few minutes later, we arrived outside a tall building. Pierre whisked me inside quickly, but I was able to glance and see that it was the Prudential Center. Once inside, he led me to an elevator, and punched in 53 for the floor.
"Fifty three?" I said.
"It's the top floor." Pierre told me.
That I figured out. I also figured out that on the top floor of the Prudential Center is Top of the Hub, which is one of the nicest restaurants in Boston.
The elevator didn't stop at all, and soon enough, we got to the fifty-third floor. The doors opened, and we got out of the elevator. Pierre led the way to the restaurant.
"I kind of obsessively read the restaurant guides for Boston. I really wanted to take you somewhere nice." He said as we were about to step in. "I hope you like it."
"I'm sure I will."
Pierre opened the door for me.
"Hi, and welcome to Top of the Hub. Table for two?" The hostess said to Pierre.
"Actually, I have a reservation," he replied. "Charlie Phillips." I raised an eyebrow at him, but followed as the hostess said, "Ah, yes. Right this way."
We followed him to a table and sat down.
"It's such a nice view," I said. We were looking right over the Charles River.
"It really is," he agreed. He put his hand on mine, which was resting on the table. "You know, I was originally going to propose to you today. I've had this night planned out for months."
"So why did you propose at La Fleur?" I wondered.
"I couldn't wait." Pierre admitted. "I just wanted to get engaged to you, and I couldn't wait any longer."
**********
By the time Pierre closed and locked our hotel room door later, he was taking my shirt off. Soon enough, we were lying on top of each other on the bed, completely naked.
"God, I fucking love you Pierre," I said, in between passionate kisses.
"I swear I love you more," he said. More kissing. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
"I can't live without you." I told him. "Don't ever leave me."
"Never," he agreed. "I love you more than anything in the world."
**********
I woke up the next morning in the hotel bed, with Pierre next to me. Then I realized I wasn't wearing any clothes, and neither was Pierre.
"Pierre!" I said, tapping him on the shoulder. "We used a condom, right?"
"What?" he was obviously tired. "Oh, yeah. Look." He pointed out the wrapper in the nearby garbage can.
"Thank god. I almost had a heart attack."
"Me too. You know, we don't have sound check until this afternoon. I was thinking… do you want to talk about-"
"The wedding?" I interrupted him. He nodded. "Only if you do."
"Of course I do. Let's get ready." Pierre tried to get out of bed, but I pulled him back under the covers when I heard a knock on the door.
"Who is it?" I shouted.
"David and Seb!" David replied. "The door's locked. Can we come in?"
"Hold on a minute." Pierre told them. He quickly pulled on some boxers and a t-shirt, and answered the door, opening it just enough so he could see David and Seb.
"Whoa, last night, did you guys-" I heard Seb say.
"Dude, it's not like it was the first time we've done it." Pierre replied.
"Yea, first time we've walked in on the aftermath, though." David said.
"Whatever. What did you guys want?"
"Are you two coming down to breakfast with the rest of us?" David inquired.
"Yea, we'll be down there in twenty. See you then."
"See you." The door closed, and I heard David and Seb walk away.
"I have to shower," I told Pierre. "I'm disgusting."
"I would hardly call you disgusting," he informed me. "But can I shower with you?"
"I suppose," I told him, imitating his sly grin.
**********
Almost an hour later, Pierre and I sauntered down to the restaurant. He was wearing black jeans and a black Role Model hoodie; I was wearing faded blue jeans and a plain black hoodie. Chuck, Jeff, Seb, Pat, and David were waiting for us.
"Nice of you two to come," Jeff said.
"Pierre Bouvier, always on time." Seb added, rolling his eyes.
"That's my name, don't wear it out." Pierre said. "Come on, let's get a table."
"Our party is all here," Chuck told the host.
"Alright, I'll get you seating right now," he said, and took out seven menus, showing us the way to a large circular table.
I sat down at a seat that gave me a perfect view of downtown Boston (or at least, what was going on outside the hotel). Pierre sat to my left. David sat to my right. Then there was Seb, then Jeff, then Pat, then Chuck, on Pierre's left. Soon enough, the waiter arrived.
"Hi, my name is Ricky, and I'll be your server today. Would you like anything to drink?"
"I'll have some orange juice," I said.
"Orange juice for me, too, please," David said.
"Orange juice, please," said Seb.
"Seven orange juices perhaps?" said Ricky. He looked vaguely familiar. There was a general murmur or agreement. "I'll be back in a minute to take your order."
"You know who that is?" I said to Pierre.
"Who?"
"That Ricky I sort of went out with. I told you about him."
"Oh, that jerk that slept with you, then left?" Pierre was remembering, but I could tell that even after all these years, the thought of Ricky left a bad taste in my mouth, just like in mine.
"Yeah, him. Guess he didn't recognize me sitting next to a guy that's not him."
Ricky returned swiftly with our drinks.
"Here you go, seven orange juices. Are you ready to order?"
"I think we are," said Pierre. "Katie, why don't you start?"
"Alright. I think I'll have… an order of chocolate chip pancakes and a side of bacon."
"I'm gonna go with the chocolate chip pancakes and bacon," David said.
"I have to have a stack of chocolate chip pancakes and some bacon," Said Seb.
"I'll have the same," Jeff agreed.
"Me too," said Pat
"And me." Said Chuck. Chuck, Jeff, David, Seb, Pierre, and I all grinned, remembering the time when they had come over to my house and made me breakfast.
We all handed Ricky our menus.
"Alright, I'll take your order to the kitchen." Ricky took a step or two away, and then did a double take. "Wait- are you- you look like" he said, looking at me. "I'm sorry, it's just that you remind me of someone I knew."
"Ricky Jones? From Short Hills?"
"Katie Williams? You… moved?"
"Yes, I did." I forced a grin. "What brings you to Boston?"
"Oh, I'm working on my MBA at Harvard," he said. "What about you?"
"My fiancé's band is touring."
"That's great. Well, you know, I'd love to chat, but I've gotta get this order to the kitchen. I'll talk to you later."
Ugh. I hadn't seen him since that time after our freshman year of high school, but I still didn't like him.
"What does MBA stand for, anyway?" Seb wondered aloud.
"Master of Business Administration." I explained.
"Major Bastard Asshole is more fitting." Pierre said.
"Grow up." I told Pierre.
"But you love the fact that I'm still mentally a teenager."
"I do." I leaned over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.
A/N- Chapter title is from "Top Of The World" by the All-American Rejects. Top of the Hub is a real restaurant, by the way.
"I think I'm done skating," I told him.
"I think I am, too", Pierre agreed. "I'll help you up." So he took my hands, and helped me stand up. We skated together (carefully) to the exit, where he surprised me by kissing me again.
After returning our skates, Pierre led the way to the T and back to our hotel. I decided to turn the TV on. The cable channel it was on was showing Degrassi: The Next Generation, which was apparently some sort of sequel to the Degrassi I grew up with. I was enjoying the show, when all of a sudden, someone knocked on the door.
"It's open." Pierre shouted, and in came Seb.
"What are you watching?" Seb asked. Then he saw what was on screen. "Degrassi!"
"I know!" I said excitedly. "That blonde girl, that's Emma!"
"Spike's kid? No way!"
"Yeah, and that kid with the curly brown hair-"
"The one with the camera?"
"Yeah, him. He's Joey's step-son." I told Seb.
"No way!"
"Yes way! And see that guy, the old one?"
"Mr. Raditch! This show is-"
"Amazing, I know," Pierre interrupted. He rolled his eyes; he had never shared mine and Seb's enthusiasm for Degrassi.
"The rest of us are going for Italian on the North End. Are you two coming?" Seb asked Pierre.
"Actually, I already have plans for me and Katie tonight," Pierre told him. "Thanks, though."
"Alright, see you later." Seb left the room.
"So where are we going?" I asked Pierre.
"I'm not telling you," he said, showing me that wonderful grin of his that I had fallen in love with so many years ago. "But I will tell you one thing."
"What?"
"You're beautiful," Pierre informed me. "You really are."
"Thank you."
"So, you know I have plans for us tonight."
"I know. And you said you wouldn't tell me where we're going."
"I know." God, how I loved his smile, especially when it was that sarcastic grin he was using right now.
**********
The TV was still showing Degrassi, but I wasn't paying much attention to it. I was too busy kissing (and, okay, maybe doing a little more than kissing) Pierre.
Eventually, it was time to go out to dinner. I wore a black dress and heels, and carried a small black purse. I put on diamond earrings, which happened to look great with my ring- I guess Pierre knew my taste in jewelry.
Pierre called a cab, and handed the driver a slip of paper which I assumed had the address of the restaurant on it.
"Oh, is it a special occasion tonight?" The cab driver asked Pierre, as we got in.
"Just taking my fiancé out for dinner," he said.
"Lucky woman," the driver said. "And you, lucky, too. She's beautiful."
"I'm the luckiest man in the world."
**********
A few minutes later, we arrived outside a tall building. Pierre whisked me inside quickly, but I was able to glance and see that it was the Prudential Center. Once inside, he led me to an elevator, and punched in 53 for the floor.
"Fifty three?" I said.
"It's the top floor." Pierre told me.
That I figured out. I also figured out that on the top floor of the Prudential Center is Top of the Hub, which is one of the nicest restaurants in Boston.
The elevator didn't stop at all, and soon enough, we got to the fifty-third floor. The doors opened, and we got out of the elevator. Pierre led the way to the restaurant.
"I kind of obsessively read the restaurant guides for Boston. I really wanted to take you somewhere nice." He said as we were about to step in. "I hope you like it."
"I'm sure I will."
Pierre opened the door for me.
"Hi, and welcome to Top of the Hub. Table for two?" The hostess said to Pierre.
"Actually, I have a reservation," he replied. "Charlie Phillips." I raised an eyebrow at him, but followed as the hostess said, "Ah, yes. Right this way."
We followed him to a table and sat down.
"It's such a nice view," I said. We were looking right over the Charles River.
"It really is," he agreed. He put his hand on mine, which was resting on the table. "You know, I was originally going to propose to you today. I've had this night planned out for months."
"So why did you propose at La Fleur?" I wondered.
"I couldn't wait." Pierre admitted. "I just wanted to get engaged to you, and I couldn't wait any longer."
**********
By the time Pierre closed and locked our hotel room door later, he was taking my shirt off. Soon enough, we were lying on top of each other on the bed, completely naked.
"God, I fucking love you Pierre," I said, in between passionate kisses.
"I swear I love you more," he said. More kissing. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
"I can't live without you." I told him. "Don't ever leave me."
"Never," he agreed. "I love you more than anything in the world."
**********
I woke up the next morning in the hotel bed, with Pierre next to me. Then I realized I wasn't wearing any clothes, and neither was Pierre.
"Pierre!" I said, tapping him on the shoulder. "We used a condom, right?"
"What?" he was obviously tired. "Oh, yeah. Look." He pointed out the wrapper in the nearby garbage can.
"Thank god. I almost had a heart attack."
"Me too. You know, we don't have sound check until this afternoon. I was thinking… do you want to talk about-"
"The wedding?" I interrupted him. He nodded. "Only if you do."
"Of course I do. Let's get ready." Pierre tried to get out of bed, but I pulled him back under the covers when I heard a knock on the door.
"Who is it?" I shouted.
"David and Seb!" David replied. "The door's locked. Can we come in?"
"Hold on a minute." Pierre told them. He quickly pulled on some boxers and a t-shirt, and answered the door, opening it just enough so he could see David and Seb.
"Whoa, last night, did you guys-" I heard Seb say.
"Dude, it's not like it was the first time we've done it." Pierre replied.
"Yea, first time we've walked in on the aftermath, though." David said.
"Whatever. What did you guys want?"
"Are you two coming down to breakfast with the rest of us?" David inquired.
"Yea, we'll be down there in twenty. See you then."
"See you." The door closed, and I heard David and Seb walk away.
"I have to shower," I told Pierre. "I'm disgusting."
"I would hardly call you disgusting," he informed me. "But can I shower with you?"
"I suppose," I told him, imitating his sly grin.
**********
Almost an hour later, Pierre and I sauntered down to the restaurant. He was wearing black jeans and a black Role Model hoodie; I was wearing faded blue jeans and a plain black hoodie. Chuck, Jeff, Seb, Pat, and David were waiting for us.
"Nice of you two to come," Jeff said.
"Pierre Bouvier, always on time." Seb added, rolling his eyes.
"That's my name, don't wear it out." Pierre said. "Come on, let's get a table."
"Our party is all here," Chuck told the host.
"Alright, I'll get you seating right now," he said, and took out seven menus, showing us the way to a large circular table.
I sat down at a seat that gave me a perfect view of downtown Boston (or at least, what was going on outside the hotel). Pierre sat to my left. David sat to my right. Then there was Seb, then Jeff, then Pat, then Chuck, on Pierre's left. Soon enough, the waiter arrived.
"Hi, my name is Ricky, and I'll be your server today. Would you like anything to drink?"
"I'll have some orange juice," I said.
"Orange juice for me, too, please," David said.
"Orange juice, please," said Seb.
"Seven orange juices perhaps?" said Ricky. He looked vaguely familiar. There was a general murmur or agreement. "I'll be back in a minute to take your order."
"You know who that is?" I said to Pierre.
"Who?"
"That Ricky I sort of went out with. I told you about him."
"Oh, that jerk that slept with you, then left?" Pierre was remembering, but I could tell that even after all these years, the thought of Ricky left a bad taste in my mouth, just like in mine.
"Yeah, him. Guess he didn't recognize me sitting next to a guy that's not him."
Ricky returned swiftly with our drinks.
"Here you go, seven orange juices. Are you ready to order?"
"I think we are," said Pierre. "Katie, why don't you start?"
"Alright. I think I'll have… an order of chocolate chip pancakes and a side of bacon."
"I'm gonna go with the chocolate chip pancakes and bacon," David said.
"I have to have a stack of chocolate chip pancakes and some bacon," Said Seb.
"I'll have the same," Jeff agreed.
"Me too," said Pat
"And me." Said Chuck. Chuck, Jeff, David, Seb, Pierre, and I all grinned, remembering the time when they had come over to my house and made me breakfast.
We all handed Ricky our menus.
"Alright, I'll take your order to the kitchen." Ricky took a step or two away, and then did a double take. "Wait- are you- you look like" he said, looking at me. "I'm sorry, it's just that you remind me of someone I knew."
"Ricky Jones? From Short Hills?"
"Katie Williams? You… moved?"
"Yes, I did." I forced a grin. "What brings you to Boston?"
"Oh, I'm working on my MBA at Harvard," he said. "What about you?"
"My fiancé's band is touring."
"That's great. Well, you know, I'd love to chat, but I've gotta get this order to the kitchen. I'll talk to you later."
Ugh. I hadn't seen him since that time after our freshman year of high school, but I still didn't like him.
"What does MBA stand for, anyway?" Seb wondered aloud.
"Master of Business Administration." I explained.
"Major Bastard Asshole is more fitting." Pierre said.
"Grow up." I told Pierre.
"But you love the fact that I'm still mentally a teenager."
"I do." I leaned over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.
A/N- Chapter title is from "Top Of The World" by the All-American Rejects. Top of the Hub is a real restaurant, by the way.
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