Fuck friend zone. He wasn't even anywhere close to friendville anymore. Not even friendopolise. He wished he was that close. But no. He was somewhere at the far end of the fucking frindverse.

The burly Russian grunted as thumped his empty glass on the bar. The bar attendant had given up on attempting to ask what he wanted or warning him to slow down, and just refilled his glass quietly. Bryan gulped it down in one go and before bringing it down to the bar again, so hard that the glass actually cracked. The guy behind the bar silently exchanged the glass, giving it back to him full. That made it the- what? 4th or 5th – broken glass in the last hour?
"Hello there stranger." A hand trailed down his shoulder blade. He turned to break the females wrist that had dared to touch him but then stopped as his alcohol addled brain tried figure out what's going on.
For a moment he thought it was Her, but that wouldn't make any sense. She would've known not to touch him, when he was in such a foul state. She could have told by just looking at his face- even though it was void of any emotion- that he was angry. She could always tell what he was feeling even when he put on- what shereferred to as- his mask.
But this female did look like her. At least a bit now that he was drunk.
Her long brown hair curled at the tips just like Hers did. (But it was the wrong shade of brown and the curl was artificial.)
Her facial features looked similar (but were a lot harsher and thinner compared to her soft, round ones. And they were covered in whorish makeup while shewould only ever wear a small amount for special occasions.).
Her lips were curved in a suggestive smile. (Unlike hercupids bow oneswhich would usually be grinning happily, or twisted in a mischievous smirk. Or – the one that tested every inch of his self-discipline- she would twist her soft, pink lips into the world's most innocent smile.) Her heavy lidded brown eyes were void of emotions. (and unlike hers – which are so full of passion and emotion he could often tell what she was thinking by gazing into them- they held none of the tiny , almost invisible specks of green in them.)
Yet despite the fact that she clearly wasn't her, he had the vgue feeling he knew her.
"huh?"
"It's been a while." She said purred. "How about we catch up somewhere… more private."
Still confused Bryan didn't budge until the woman slipped her hand and began to gently pull him up.
"Come on big guy." She whispered and guided him out of the hotel bar.

He was still trying to figure out how the hell he knew her when he was stumbling into a hotel room, which was not his own.
"Who-"he started to ask her after she closed the door behind her, but was cut off when she crushed her lips against his. He kissed her back even though he knew it wasn't her. He allowed himself to forget how he had screwed up his chance to be with her, how the woman he was kissing was way too aggressive and experienced to be her, how frustrated he was that the only time he got the guts up to kiss his girl was when while she was working in a bloody kissing booth for a charity event.
He forgot everything, he closed his eyes and sunk into the fantasy.
The fantasy that it was his girl slowly unbuttoning his shirt.
That it was His girl that was softly crooning his name in between kisses…
His girl that was running her figures along his collar bones and shoulders until she pushed his shirt of his shoulders…
His girl that was now trailing kisses along his neck and onto his chest as she gently pushed him on the bed… that was now climbing onto his lap… that was still kissing his chest as her fingers trailed up his left leg and onto his…
"Jessie!" He moaned in surprise. The woman giggled at him and whispered:
"hmm if you like that, I know something that will drive you crazy!"
Bryans eyes shot open. That wasn't her voice. And he doubted Jessie ever say anything as slutty, even if he did get her into a position like this, and if she did say that, it still wouldn't have sounded so…well un-Jessie-ish.
Not-Jessie was struggling to undo his belt, as Bryan shut his eyes and tried to forget again. But it didn't work. Now that the 'spell' was broken he just couldn't continue pretending that that was Jessie. And since that wasn't Jessie, he also couldn't pretended that Jessie wasn't on a Date with some asshole… that he hadn't seen her hugging that asshole in front of the restaurant- and to make things worse she hadn't done it while she was wearing that sexy innocent skirt and stripy knee socks… gods he loved her in those…

"looks like someone is getting excited!" the woman giggled as she finally managed to undo his belt and moved her attention to his pants button. Bryan ignored her and tried continue to think about Jessie. But then-just as not-Jessie was about to unzip his pants- a thought entered his alcohol muddled brain.
What if Jessica was just about to unzip that fucker's pants?
Bryan sat up in bed in horror.
What if he had used Jessie innocent and trusting nature, and led his little saint astray and into his bed?
What if he forced himself onto Jessie?
Bryan stood up. He Ignored the annoyed yelped from not-Jessie as she hit the floor and began to head to the door.
"Hey where are you going?"
"I h-have to safe Jessie." He slurredly replied.
"What about ME?" Not-Jessie hissed indignantly.
"You're NOT Jessie!" Bryan said determinately and left the room.

Bryan staggered down the hallway and into the elevator.
He was glade that this time, the all-girl league teams were housed in the same hotel as his team for a change. Impatiently he continued to press the 4th floor button. He growled at annoyance at how slow he stupid lift was going. Didn't the shit thing know that he was in a hurry? His mind kept on coming up with worse and worse scenarios about what the Dead-Man-Walking was doing to hisJessica.
Finally bloody elevator stopped.
He attempted to squeeze through the gap of the door as it opened, rather than wait, and almost fell out instead.
Once he straightened himself up he turned and glared at the elevator doors suspiciously. Just then the second door opened and a weirdly dressed couple looked at him startled. The guy was wearing a grey suit with a white rose pinned to his lapel, white vest and a blue tie. The girl was even more ridiculously overdress in a white monstrously made up with way to many frills, sequences and bows. If he had to guess it had been part of a horrible 3 degree sewing machine accident. His second guess was a dress.
"You're not Jessie?" he asked suspiciously.
The couple shook their head no, as the guy pressed the button hurriedly again. They stared at him, looking at him in a mixture of fear and shock as the door closed again.
The Russian shook his head irritated, as he started to make his way towards Jessie's room.
What a bunch of weirdo's. They're probably drunk. Bryan thought as he continued to stagger down the hallway. They must've come from a dress up party or a…. It finally clicked. The thing- Bryan still struggled to think of it a dress- was a wedding dress. They must have been a bridal couple. He shrugged as stared at the door numbers on either side of him. Trying to recall which room was Jessie.
Suddenly Bryan froze on the spot.
What if Jessie and that git were a couple now? What if they married? But Jessie was his. She was supposed to be his, she couldn't just marry someone else!
He let go the breath he didn't even realised he was holding. Happily he trudged on down the hallway.
All was good. Saint Jessica would never betray him like that and simply marry some other bloke…. Well… not without a really good reason… like if she was pregnant. SO THAT was that gits master plan. He'd knock up Jessie and force her to marry him, just so she could never be with him.
Panic and anger rose in Bryan as he franticly searched for her room. Finally he found it. He began banging against the door.