Disclaimer: I do not own anything Twilight related. I do however own this particular story. This story is rated M for strong language and physiological nudity.
APOV:
MySpace! I don't think I need to add more to that statement, it speaks for itself. It is the uncontrollable addiction that ruins lives; lives as in mine. Sure, it's all fun and graphics until someone makes a fake page to spy on their boyfriend; that someone being me. Fuck you MySpace and fuck you Tom, for creating something so evil.
MySpace, for me used to be a place for hook-ups. I've met so many potential boyfriends on that site leading to dinner dates, movies, and expensive shopping sprees for designer clothes. Two years ago, I talked one delicious looking, hoped to be sex machine into taking me to Cancun for spring break. He rated high on the 'Alice List of Potentials'. But after two days of him not trying to even kiss me, I learned he wanted to try one last time to not be gay, I didn't know whether to be flattered or appalled. After that, I mastered gaydar!
Then I meet Jasper "motherfucking" Hale. My archangel sent to me from heaven above; my oasis in the Sahara Desert. He had eyes the color of the Caribbean Sea, a smile that could capture the heart of the grouchiest old lady, hair that reminded me of expensive, hand woven silk, and a body that only Michelangelo could have sculpted.
As it turned out, Jasper was none other than Lucifer himself. He sat lurking in the dark corners of my soul, waiting to shred my heart, and I allowed it.
It was three months ago, I was bored of doing my usual internet research for my thesis paper, so I logged onto my MySpace. Something I did at least six to ten times a day. Sad, I know but that day I wanted more out of life; particularly I wanted to go see a band that was playing at my favorite bar this weekend. With no funds, I turned to my trusty MySpace to find some schmuck who would treat me out for the night.
For about an hour, I clicked on page after page after dull boring page, not finding anyone that I considered worthy enough to grace with my presence. They came across as either too jockey, too cocky, or just plain dirty, I outgrew that last year. I wanted someone different, someone who could take my breath away, a real man, in every sense of the word.
I decided to be daring, my wild side getting the better of me. I hadn't heard of the band's music so started by going to their group's MySpace. That was the first time I saw a picture of Jasper "cocksucker" Hale. I was instantly drawn to his wide smile and his heart breaking dimples. Once the music started playing loudly through my speakers, his voice melted my heart, and made my girlie parts do a couple of back flips.
I quickly clicked on a link for band pictures, my heart and vajaja couldn't get enough of him. The way he stood while singing, the way he held the microphone, and the way he smiled just so only one dimple showed. I had to have him.
Like a good little stalker I found his personal MySpace page, unfortunately it was private, so I sent a "friend request".
I tried to return to my thesis paper, but I found myself constantly going back to check the status of my "friend request" to Jasper. After two hours and still no response, I was so frustrated that I closed down my laptop and went to bed.
Thoughts of him consumed my life for three days. I downloaded their music to my iTunes, I looked up their tour schedule, I even Googled them to find out every piece of information I could. It took him until that Thursday to accept my friend request. I felt like I had just won the lottery. I literally jumped up; fist pumped the air, and did a tiny victory dance, all while I blasted Jasper's angelic voice through my iPod.
I shook out my nervous fingers and saw I had one new message. I squealed loudly, wiggling in my seat and clapped my hands, all at the same time. I swear I was reverting to toddler-hood. I took in a deep breath and just about died, literally died, when I saw he had emailed me. HE had emailed ME!
I clicked 'read':
Hey there darlin'. You are a sight to behold. Where are you from?
~Jazz
Darlin'! He fucking called me darlin', like some southern gentleman straight out of the movies. "Oh my God, I have to call someone. Rose, must call Rose. Phone, where is my phone?!" My mind refused to function correctly. Fantasies involving Jasper, me and a very large speaker box ran through my head.
Giving up on the phone call, I clicked 'reply' instead.
Hey, was going to see you guys this weekend, look for me in the crowd. *wink*
~Alice
Friday and Saturday seemed drag on and on, with what looked like no end in sight. Finally, it was 8pm Saturday night. Jasper and I emailed each other several times a day, and even exchanged Yahoo messenger screen names. I wish I could say his effect on me has lessened, but if anything, it soared. He was meeting me at the door so I could get his "special treatment". I wasn't sure what that entailed but, I'm pretty positive I didn't care.
He was more gorgeous in person, with the light illuminating his beautiful face. When he kissed the back of my hand I knew it, I loved him. One meeting, one kiss, and I knew I. Loved. Him. There was no going back, at least not for me. My insides burst with excitement. My heart, like the Grinch's, grew ten times its normal size; filled with nothing but complete, unadulterated love for Jasper.
He sang to me that night, in front of a packed bar. Girls screamed his name, threw crumbled thongs on the stage, one flashed him her saggy tits, and never once did he take his eyes off me.
We left after the set was over, leaving his band and crew to pick up the equipment. I took him back to my apartment and we made love until the sun starting shining through my tan sheer bedroom curtains. Never before had I felt so complete.
For days, he stayed with me. Telling me he couldn't leave me and I should go with them on tour. It broke my heart to have to tell him 'no'. God, how I never wanted to leave his side; I wanted to sew our shadows together so that I could never be anywhere but with him. Alas, time came for him to drive to another town, leaving me a cold, desolate shell of a person.
We called each other, talked for hours on end about anything, everything, and nothing. He would send me emails in the middle of night, telling me how he wished I was beside him. He would tell me about the town he was in, or about another strange, cheap hotel where he was staying at. We exchanged daily pictures of each other. He would be standing in front of another "Welcome to…" sign, and mine would be of sexy, provocative positions.
I learned he preferred me in red. He liked the mini skirts, opposed to the short shorts. He like my Victoria's Secret lingerie, opposed to the more expensive La Perla. His favorite place to visit was back home in Texas. We promised once school let out, he would take me bareback horse riding in the Texas hill country.
He was gone for three weeks before he was able to come back to see me. For almost two weeks we never left my apartment. We ordered in, watched "movie on demand", and made love on every square inch available in my apartment. All too soon, he had to leave and my heart broke all over again.
Our separation routine continued for two weeks before I was able to fly to see him…in his hometown. That is when things starting getting weird.
I had though he would have taken me out, showed me who he was, where he use to play football, or where he use to fish with his dad, but he didn't. I though I'd meet his family and friends, but I didn't. I thought we'd go bareback horse riding and make love under the diamond crusted black sky, but we didn't.
He would check his phone compulsively. He would take it to the hotel bathroom, and I would hear hush whispers coming from the other side of the door.
"Everything okay," I asked, terrified of the answer. He just smiled at me and hushed me by kissing my lips. As per usual, we made love and all my worries disappeared into the humid air of Texas.
The day I had to leave he seemed somewhat distracted, and parting with me seemed too easy for him. He kissed me like normal, promised me he'd see me soon like normal, but his words and actions felt empty. I sobbed in my seat for the entire three hour flight, arriving home feeling emotionally washed out.
When I landed, I had a text from him, telling me he missed me already. It was the last time that night I heard from him. My calls unanswered, my text messages not replied to and my emails sat unread. I cried myself to sleep that night.
A new day, a new attitude, was my motto the following morning. Perhaps he was tired and simply fell asleep. I showered and started getting ready for my day. I checked his MySpace before I left; he had logged on last night. My heart sank and the tiny fracture that had me breaking down last night, broke a tiny bit more. I promised myself to talk to him; he had to have a logical explanation for not calling, texting, or emailing me back.
After my last class I couldn't hold out any longer so as soon as I slipped into my car, I called him. It rang six times before he answered.
"Hey babe, I've been dying to talk to you!" he said, with a sigh of relief.
"Oh, really? Where were you last night?" I asked, getting directly to the point. I mean why beat around the bush?
"I fell asleep. Some sexy thang wore me out for three days."
"Umm, interesting. You logged onto your MySpace page, but you couldn't email me back or text or call me?" My tone of voice was stern and accusing.
"That was right when you left, and I did send you a text; didn't you get it?" I let out a breath of relief. I knew there was a logical reason. I was simply overreacting.
"Sorry, yeah I got it. I just hate leaving you. I miss you so much when we're apart. I feel like something is missing."
"Me too. Hey, I have to go, my mom is calling in. You gonna be online later?" he asked quickly.
"Sure, seven?"
"Sounds good, later." He hung up the phone before I could even say bye.
Weeks went past with the same distant feeling. His answers were short. Our conversations online became less and less frequent. He'd log on, and quickly log off. I caught him once with his web cam on, but he insisted that he was talking to his mom online.
Later that week he unexpectedly showed up at my door. He reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke. When I questioned why he didn't tell me he was going to be in town, he told me he wanted to surprise me. My logic left when my vajaja took over, and we re-christened every piece of furniture in my apartment that night.
Throughout the four-day visit I noticed his phone ringing a lot, though he never answered it. He even turned it off at one point and shoved it in his overnight bag. We went out to a karaoke bar, where he sang the sweetest 80's punk rock love songs to me. We laughed and once again, I felt complete.
"Babe, I know I've been acting weird, and I'm sorry for that." He said, as we lay in bed. Our legs tangled together and my head was happily resting on his chest. He mindlessly ran his hands through my short jet-black hair.
"I understand. You were with your family. It's okay. You're here now, that's what matters." I said, to him as I traced my finger around his perky nipple.
"Pix?" he asked, shortening my given nickname. I loved it when he called me Pixie; like I was some magical creature that could sprinkle dust on him to make him fly.
"Humm?" I hummed, in response.
"I love you," he whispered, as if saying it louder it would lose its meaning. I looked up at him; his face was full of worry, as if he was scared of me rejecting his confession.
"I've waited months to hear you say that." I answered, kissing his lips passionately. "I've loved you from the first day I met you." He rolled on top of me and once again took me to a place high above the clouds, where my body would explode like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
Jasper left the next afternoon, unintentionally ripping my insides in two. I cried uncontrollably and vomited over the toilet until all the remnants of any form of food was released.
The following day, I was browsing my favorite graphic website, looking for the perfect 'I Love You' graphic to post onto his MySpace page. I wanted one that expressed my love for him and how I felt while he was gone. One hour later, I found the graphic I was looking for.
I flicked back to his personal MySpace page and read comments that other girls had left and my heart sank when I read one in particular. It was from a beautiful strawberry blonde-haired woman with the name "Sex Goddess", the comment read, "Glad you're home, had fun *wink*." My stomach rose to my throat, my heart sank to my toes, and my vision blurred with red. Could he really be cheating on me?
Bewildered and angry, I picked up my phone and texted him.
Who's Sex Goddess? –Pixie
A few seconds later he texted back.
I don't know. Why? –Jazz
Because apparently you two had fun while you were home. –Pixie
Baby, you know how I feel, it was probably just some chick who went to one of the shows I did while home, that's all. Please don't do this. –Jazz
I didn't text back.
What I did do, was post three sexually explicit graphics on his page and two sappy, gag me with a spoon, loser love graphics, letting Miss Sex Goddess know it was me that he was with, both sexually and emotionally.
Three hours later, I received a message from the Sex Goddess herself. It read:
"Look, I don't know who you are, but I'm sure you're just another groupie bitch who lives in some fantasy world. Jasper is with me. He's been with me for years, and no matter what he'll always come back to me. So whatever one night stand you might have had with him, it's over now. Back the fuck off!!"
I called him twelve times, he never answered. That night, he called back explaining that he did date her a long time ago and she had been at the bar they played in a few weeks ago, but swore they never did anything. Apparently, she was obsessed and refused to believe that he didn't want her anymore. I felt better after we talked. He helped me understand what it's like dating a musician and that I needed to trust him and trust our love. I went to bed that night with him singing to me through the phone, hundreds of miles away.
I called Rose the next day. I still doubted Jasper's explanation. I needed someone to tell me I was just acting crazy and was simply overreacting.
"Hey stranger, where have you been?" she asked, with a happy tone.
"I need help," I went straight to the point. Over the past eighteen years of friendship, she knew I didn't like small talk. Well, more that I was impatient as hell.
"Uh oh, that's never good to hear. Bail money?" she joked.
"I wish! It's Jasper," I sighed in the phone. I flopped myself down on the bed, and forced back the tears that were threatening to fall.
"Is he still being a dick? I told you to get rid of him." She said, bored. I could picture her rolling her eyes, as she filed her manicured nails. This, needless to say, isn't the first time I've called to cry to her about Jasper. In fact I'm sure at least once a week our daily conversations would be completely filled with my rantings and ravings about my insecurities about him.
"Log on to my MySpace and read my Inbox, I don't want to look at it again." I explained, giving her my email and password. The tiny crack in my heart, splintered into tiny fractions, like a crystal vase, shattered on the floor. Tears flowed from my eyes, but I couldn't will them to stop.
"Oh God, honey are you okay? I knew that son of a bitch would do this. Is he coming here anytime soon? I'll fucking cut his dick off and feed it to him, if you'd like." I chuckled a little bit. Rose always knew how to make me feel better, violence involving men's special parts makes me smile every time.
"No, see that's just it Rose, he told me he loves me and I know he does. I can feel it in every kiss, in every touch; I can feel it when he says it over the phone!"
"And he very well might at the time he's saying it honey, but does he love you when you're not on his mind? Does he love you every second of every day? Or only the moments you are with him or when he happens to think of you?" A cry racked through my chest. The pain was almost unbearable. I let the phone's earpiece fall out of my ear and cried. Rose never hung up; she waited until I fell asleep.
I woke up to the sound of my cell phone ring. It was Rose.
"Hey," I greeted her with a scratchy, weak voice.
"Okay, I have a plan. Get your ass up and online. Now!" She was using her devious voice. Her, "I'm up to no good and it's great", voice. I felt excitement at the prospect of her vengeful mind. "You Shorty, are going to be making a fake MySpace page to see just how loyal your stud muffin really is."
"I am?" I questioned.
"Yes, you are. And don't give me any shit or I'll do it myself." I didn't put up a fight. If Rose did this, it would be a lot worse.
"Okay I need a name," I said getting into my twisted state of mind.
"Bella Swan." She stated.
"Beautiful Swan? Are you fucking serious?" I laughed at her name choice. "Where do you come up with half the shit in your mind?" I shook my head and typed in 'Bella Swan'. Okay, where am I from? I need it to be from somewhere he travels to often. The rusty wheels turned slowly. Dallas! "Okay, I am going to be from Dallas, Texas. I need some pictures though and not just of a girl either, she has to be a fucking bombshell! I refuse to pretend to be an ugly duckling!" We laughed at my joke.
"Just use some of mine. He doesn't know what I look like." She had a great point, Rose was hot. Nevertheless Jasper had seen the scrapbook she had made me one year for Christmas, so that was out of the question.
"No, he's seen your picture. We'll have to look on Photobucket and find some crazy ass chick with lots of pictures on her account." I decided.
Over the next two hours, Rose and I made a complete MySpace page. Photo slides of "Bella Swan" and her friends on a wild drinking day on the lake. Some of her at a bar dancing. God I hoped this girl never found out what I did with her pictures. I'm pretty sure this is illegal in some way. Do I care? Not at all.
Jasper and I talked as we usually did over the next few days. I would send out friend requests on a daily bases from the fake MySpace page to make the page seem more authentic. A few days later, when I was satisfied with how it was looking, I sent both the band and Jasper personally a friend request from "Bella". The personal one read:
You my King are amazing! I saw you while you were in Dallas a while back, and LOVE, LOVE, LOVE your music! I wanted to know when you were going to be back in the Dallas area. I have a house all to myself with a pool and hot tub… just sayin' ;)
~Bella Swan
I clicked send and waited. I couldn't begin to describe the feelings I had. I was anxious, scared, thrilled, hopeful, and hurt. How could something so good go so bad, in such a short period of time?
Unfortunately, I didn't have to wait long for him to reply and accept my friend request. I didn't read his email right away and instead, I viewed his comments. Sex Goddess posted a glittery middle finger that said 'fuck you'. Under the graphic she said 'to skank below', meaning me.
My stomach churned with fear that possibly, Rose was right. He didn't love me all the time, only when it was convenient for him. I held my breath as I read his reply.
Hey' darlin. You're a sight to behold! Such beauty should be outlawed. But then again, only a Texas girl could get a way with it ;)
I'll be in Dallas again in two weeks, meet me by the door; I'll give you my special treatment. I don't get on here much so hit me up on Yahoo. Jazz_10
Until next time Jazz.
I couldn't believe my eyes! How could he! It was clear to me now that I was nothing but a mere pawn in his game of life. Another woman for his harem, I was not special. All his words, all his songs, sang to me nightly on the phone or in bed, they were nothing…just like me. I was expendable to him.
I quickly logged onto Yahoo and called Rose on the phone, my tears pouring down my face. These were not tears of mourning, no, these were tears of vehemently filled rage and anger; my tears were like snake's venom dripping from my eyes.
"So did the asshat get back to our beautiful swan yet?" She answered her phone without even saying 'hello'. Her voice implying she already knew of the answer.
"Oh, Jasper "dickless" Hale did get back to our darlin' Bella," I spat, with a cold toned voice. Mocking him, in the way he always called me darlin'.
Rose and I talked for a good hour; she calmed me down, and explained to me the next step in her plan. I was to set up a meeting with him as Bella and dump his ass when he saw it was me all along.
That night he called me. I had to tune into my acting skills. This was beyond just faking an orgasm so some guy would just hurry up and finish. This was me trying to not verbally castrate the ass fuck through the phone and shove his cock up his own ass.
A few days went by, and I was simply tired of acting. I was tired of talking to him online as Bella. I was tired of talking to him as me.
Rose set us up with airline tickets; I was not doing this alone. It was her idea, so I reserved the right to drag her ass with me. I was to meet him tomorrow as Bella and finally have the closure I needed. We were meeting at the Dallas airport, and going straight to our hotel room, then the bar, and then somewhere she had planned to drown my sorrows away.
The night before my flight, he called me while I was packing my overnight bag. I didn't answer, not really wanting to hear his voice. After ten rings it went to voicemail and surprisingly, he left a message.
I called my voicemail, typed in the pass code, and listened:
"Hey Alice, I really wanted to do this in person, and I know this is really shitty, but," there was a moment of static on the phone, "I've met someone else. I felt it necessary that before I see her tomorrow, that I tell you that we can't be together anymore. You're a great girl, and I really do love you, but I think I'm in love with her. Please forgive me; you were always too good for me anyways. I'm sorry."
He fell for the trap and his fake-ass has a fake date with a fake chick tomorrow night and I hope they have so much fun together! I know what I'm going to be doing while he's waiting in the bar…I'll be out in the real world partying! He ended up dumping me for the fake MySpace girl, what a "southern gentleman"! You know that old saying "better the devil you know then the angel you don't", well I've got just the devil in mind…
I logged onto the famous site and type in an entry…
"Today, I made a fake MySpace, so that I could flirt with my boyfriend and see what he would do. He ended up dumping me for the fake MySpace girl. FML"
