-So, yeah, I needed a bit of a break from the drama in The End, so I pulled
out and older fic I had written. Now I wrote this before I started posting
so it may be a bit rusty and different than my other stuff, but I decided
to give it a try : )
-I have already written this whole thing, and it will be about three chapters (excluding the sequel I have been considering . . .). But, the only way I'm posting the rest is if I get reviews. I'm thinking ten to fifteen for the next chapter. That's not too much to ask now is it?
-Yes, I'm updating The End right after I post this. Of course, reviews could help with that as well . . . : )
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Today has sucked
But I won't let it get me down
My chin up off the ground
Somebody I lost somebody else found
-Orange County Soundtrack, I'm So Glad That It's Over
-
An exasperated sigh leaves my mouth as I finally reach the comfort of the elevator and immediately press the down arrow. I know he was following me. I told him he didn't have to explain but he won't care. He wants to clarify things, make me feel ok. And usually he can make me feel ok, just looking into his amazingly green eyes full of concern for me makes my by-the-book dad and traitor-of-the-United-States mother disappear. But nothing can make this disappear. His eyes can only make it worse this time.
The drive home is long, as expected. I usually sit in the traffic and look at all the normal people who consider LA traffic as the most strenuous part of their day and pretend to be them. I pretend to be the woman in the silver Jetta confirming shopping plans with her mother on a cell phone, the woman in the black Escape whose hand is entwined with her boyfriends as he looks lovingly at her, the woman in the white suburban trying to get her kids to calm down. But not today. My cup has gone from half full to half empty in less than a week.
I know that I am being completely ridiculous but I cannot help it. I should be able to be happy that he is alive, that I saved him and that Joeys Pizza will not go out of business. But his 'emergency contact' stole my thunder. I want to be the one called when he is in trouble even though I know that's not possible. It's not fair. I know I have got it bad when I start feeling sorry for myself. Not that I don't have about a hundred and one reasons to, I just have always hated people who practice self pity, its degrading.
Thirty minutes later I find myself at the gym. The gym has always been my favorite place. It's a way to escape everything. You can just hop on the treadmill and drown yourself in 'what ifs'. After running for about two miles I realize that my anger is not disappearing. So I find my self in the back room with my good friend the punching bag. I take one look at it and my jaw tightens. All I can see is her face. I feel sorry for the punching bag because it is about to take a hell of a beating.
Rita?
Rita?
Rita?
Would Rita please turn around so this person will stop shouting her name! After about the fifth time I turn to see the source of my agony and curse under my breath. I am Rita.Rita Stevens. There is an obnoxious blonde grinning at me. Damnit.
"Hey Rita! I was beginning to think you were ignoring me."
I was beginning to think i was pounding your face in. Apparently I was wrong.
"So how are you? You look like you've had a bad day."
She says this with a concerned look on her face. Right.
"Hard day at work."
So what if I say this a bit agitated.
"We all get those once in a while don't we?'
Excuse me, miss, but while your hard day may consist of a broken nail and a missed deadline, mine is getting my ass kicked by three hundred pound men. And then there's the occasional guy-who-I-cant-have-because-it-would-get-us- both-killed crisis. You know him, the guy-you-get-to-go-home-to-everynight- because-I-have-to-save-the-world-again. I really hate the name Alice.
"More often then not lately."
I am dripping with sarcasm. Ask me if I care.
"Michael seems to be getting a case of that as well."
Who the heck is.oh right. Vaughn. Agent Vaughn. He doesn't look anything like a Michael. Michael is the lanky book worm in high school. Vaughn is anything but lanky. But then again she doesn't really know him anyway; it fits for her to call him Michael. Michael and Alice. Ick.
"Rita, before I get out of your hair can I ask you something?"
What, how on earth did I end up with a guy like 'Michael'? Why can't he sleep at night anymore? How come he looks disappointed when he opens his eyes every morning to see a blonde smiling at him?
"Sure."
"Well, Michael's job has always been hard on him, you know with the late hours and all."
Yeah, late hours, that's it.
".but lately it's been worse. He always comes home exhausted and closes up when I try to talk to him about it."
Now would it really be that harmful to tell her it's because 'Michael' would rather be in a deserted warehouse with yours truly then being interrogated by a blonde cheerleader? Outside of the whole 'it could get me killed' thing.
".do you think that it is just because of, well, his hospital visit?"
Oh, you mean the hospital visit he wouldn't have come home from if I hadn't have been willing to kill my boss to save him? The one that would have hurt me a thousand times worse than you will ever know because while you would have just lost a boyfriend I would have lost the only truth in my life?
I most certainly can't tell her that it's because he has to come home to you instead of me because of that damned eight letter word.
"Just give him time, works been rough lately. He'll open up eventually. Don't pressure him."
I have to bite the inside of my lip to keep from laughing at that one. She lets out an over exaggerated sigh. How does he date this woman?
"Thank you so much, I just needed some reassuring. And I guess you're the best source seeing as you spend all day with each other."
All day? Try ten minutes in a cage. The girl you should really be talking to is Kate Jones.she's the one he's breaking into the Vatican with.
"Anytime."
Ha. Ha. Ha.
"I guess I'll see you later, nice talking to you Rita, bye!"
She flips her hair. Is that the most annoying movement ever or is it just me? It's like she's saying 'Look at me, I'm blonde!' She finally 'gets out of my hair' and I can make faces at her back.
Alright Sydney, can we say thirteen? I hate myself. Not as much as I hate Alice though. I think Vaughn needs to have his head examined. If they thought he needed a shrink for getting me a picture frame who knows what they would do if they met his girlfriend.
I need to get out of here.
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-
-So, whatcha think? It was fun to write because of the complete hate I have for Alice, but I need to hear it from you before I post the rest. So get reviewing!
-I have already written this whole thing, and it will be about three chapters (excluding the sequel I have been considering . . .). But, the only way I'm posting the rest is if I get reviews. I'm thinking ten to fifteen for the next chapter. That's not too much to ask now is it?
-Yes, I'm updating The End right after I post this. Of course, reviews could help with that as well . . . : )
-
-
-
Today has sucked
But I won't let it get me down
My chin up off the ground
Somebody I lost somebody else found
-Orange County Soundtrack, I'm So Glad That It's Over
-
An exasperated sigh leaves my mouth as I finally reach the comfort of the elevator and immediately press the down arrow. I know he was following me. I told him he didn't have to explain but he won't care. He wants to clarify things, make me feel ok. And usually he can make me feel ok, just looking into his amazingly green eyes full of concern for me makes my by-the-book dad and traitor-of-the-United-States mother disappear. But nothing can make this disappear. His eyes can only make it worse this time.
The drive home is long, as expected. I usually sit in the traffic and look at all the normal people who consider LA traffic as the most strenuous part of their day and pretend to be them. I pretend to be the woman in the silver Jetta confirming shopping plans with her mother on a cell phone, the woman in the black Escape whose hand is entwined with her boyfriends as he looks lovingly at her, the woman in the white suburban trying to get her kids to calm down. But not today. My cup has gone from half full to half empty in less than a week.
I know that I am being completely ridiculous but I cannot help it. I should be able to be happy that he is alive, that I saved him and that Joeys Pizza will not go out of business. But his 'emergency contact' stole my thunder. I want to be the one called when he is in trouble even though I know that's not possible. It's not fair. I know I have got it bad when I start feeling sorry for myself. Not that I don't have about a hundred and one reasons to, I just have always hated people who practice self pity, its degrading.
Thirty minutes later I find myself at the gym. The gym has always been my favorite place. It's a way to escape everything. You can just hop on the treadmill and drown yourself in 'what ifs'. After running for about two miles I realize that my anger is not disappearing. So I find my self in the back room with my good friend the punching bag. I take one look at it and my jaw tightens. All I can see is her face. I feel sorry for the punching bag because it is about to take a hell of a beating.
Rita?
Rita?
Rita?
Would Rita please turn around so this person will stop shouting her name! After about the fifth time I turn to see the source of my agony and curse under my breath. I am Rita.Rita Stevens. There is an obnoxious blonde grinning at me. Damnit.
"Hey Rita! I was beginning to think you were ignoring me."
I was beginning to think i was pounding your face in. Apparently I was wrong.
"So how are you? You look like you've had a bad day."
She says this with a concerned look on her face. Right.
"Hard day at work."
So what if I say this a bit agitated.
"We all get those once in a while don't we?'
Excuse me, miss, but while your hard day may consist of a broken nail and a missed deadline, mine is getting my ass kicked by three hundred pound men. And then there's the occasional guy-who-I-cant-have-because-it-would-get-us- both-killed crisis. You know him, the guy-you-get-to-go-home-to-everynight- because-I-have-to-save-the-world-again. I really hate the name Alice.
"More often then not lately."
I am dripping with sarcasm. Ask me if I care.
"Michael seems to be getting a case of that as well."
Who the heck is.oh right. Vaughn. Agent Vaughn. He doesn't look anything like a Michael. Michael is the lanky book worm in high school. Vaughn is anything but lanky. But then again she doesn't really know him anyway; it fits for her to call him Michael. Michael and Alice. Ick.
"Rita, before I get out of your hair can I ask you something?"
What, how on earth did I end up with a guy like 'Michael'? Why can't he sleep at night anymore? How come he looks disappointed when he opens his eyes every morning to see a blonde smiling at him?
"Sure."
"Well, Michael's job has always been hard on him, you know with the late hours and all."
Yeah, late hours, that's it.
".but lately it's been worse. He always comes home exhausted and closes up when I try to talk to him about it."
Now would it really be that harmful to tell her it's because 'Michael' would rather be in a deserted warehouse with yours truly then being interrogated by a blonde cheerleader? Outside of the whole 'it could get me killed' thing.
".do you think that it is just because of, well, his hospital visit?"
Oh, you mean the hospital visit he wouldn't have come home from if I hadn't have been willing to kill my boss to save him? The one that would have hurt me a thousand times worse than you will ever know because while you would have just lost a boyfriend I would have lost the only truth in my life?
I most certainly can't tell her that it's because he has to come home to you instead of me because of that damned eight letter word.
"Just give him time, works been rough lately. He'll open up eventually. Don't pressure him."
I have to bite the inside of my lip to keep from laughing at that one. She lets out an over exaggerated sigh. How does he date this woman?
"Thank you so much, I just needed some reassuring. And I guess you're the best source seeing as you spend all day with each other."
All day? Try ten minutes in a cage. The girl you should really be talking to is Kate Jones.she's the one he's breaking into the Vatican with.
"Anytime."
Ha. Ha. Ha.
"I guess I'll see you later, nice talking to you Rita, bye!"
She flips her hair. Is that the most annoying movement ever or is it just me? It's like she's saying 'Look at me, I'm blonde!' She finally 'gets out of my hair' and I can make faces at her back.
Alright Sydney, can we say thirteen? I hate myself. Not as much as I hate Alice though. I think Vaughn needs to have his head examined. If they thought he needed a shrink for getting me a picture frame who knows what they would do if they met his girlfriend.
I need to get out of here.
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-So, whatcha think? It was fun to write because of the complete hate I have for Alice, but I need to hear it from you before I post the rest. So get reviewing!