A\n: Song-fic! Based on "The Ballad of Mona Lisa" by Panic! at the Disco. All human. About Jasper and Maria and Alice. Dedicated to my very bestest friend (in real life and on FF. net) Patricia, on FF. net she's patricialynne. Go give her some love *stage whisper* she's a FF virgin *normal voice* and published her first story – it's more of a drabble – and I was the only one who reviewed.
Song: Ballad of Mona Lisa by Panic! at the Disco
Disclaimer: All things mentioned belong to their rightful owners.
Ballad of Mona Lisa
(JasperPoV)
Maria dragged me here. And I wasn't too happy with her. I'm thinking of breaking it off with her, but she's kind of clingy, so it wouldn't help much. Because everybody knows a clingy girlfriend is better than a stalker. I came with her; she didn't really say where we were going, so I kind just went along with it. I didn't know we were going to a party. I wasn't a party person. Good thing it was in a dorm, I could always get away from it. I asked a bimbo friend of Maria's where the bathroom was. She pointed to the left. I got to the bathroom slowly, very slowly, holding a cup of beer in my hands. (What! I'm a Texan and I'm over the age of twelve, so I like beer.) I didn't knock or anything. But I didn't expect a girl, in only a pair of skimpy lace undies and an over-sized I LOVE NYtee-shirt, to be painting her nails on the toilet.
She paints her fingers with a close precision,
She didn't notice me. I was glad. I wanted to know her; she was my type. Black-ish pin-straight shoulder length hair, pale – really pale – skin, and short – like a little smaller than five feet short. Perfect match for me, the blond Texan who is extremely interested in the Civil War, who's a psychology major, when he looks like he should be going to therapy. But that didn't really matter, right now anyway. On her right leg was a tattoo saying, Mary did it, in old timey writing. I wondered what it meant and who was Mary?
I knocked on the door, she jumped off the toilet. And stared at me, asked, "What do you want?" Her voice was scratchy – like she was chain-smoking. Her nose crinkled – like she smelled something bad – and her eyes widened (they were bright green and lined with kohl, as if she wanted to look like a wannabe Goth). I wasn't I in the mood for flirting, so I didn't say anything. She coaxed on anyway, "Do you want some pot, a dose of heroin, some sex? If you do go to a different campus; they took mine away and I don't sell sex anymore." I think she was talking about the cops, but I didn't want any of that from her; sure sex would be nice – I hadn't been lucky for a while, Maria liked screwing with other guys but hadn't screwed with me for a while.
But she had nothing left to sell him,
"No, I just wanted to get away from the party," She raised her left eyebrow, disbelievingly.
"Are you screwing with me?" She asked. I wondered why she thought that. She raised her hand, as if she was getting ready to bitch slap me. It was my turn to raise my eyebrow – as if to say What? She told me – understanding my unspoken question – "You seem like the type. Trying to get something from me 'cause I have a bad reputation," she mumbled this part. "Gave this school some bad press, maybe saw me on the news because of something." She started saying some of the thing she did; walked on the edge of a campus building, put some pot in a priss's dorm, gave one of her professor's a lap dance.
"Why would I do that? Yeah, I look slightly mental, but so do you." She looked mad, guess she didn't like being called crazy. I didn't really care. Sure she was cute, but I didn't think she was worth it anymore. She was just a crazy, addicted chick; who didn't want anything to do with me anyway. I don't know why but she reminded me of something – a painting – but I don't know why, she reminded me of Mona Lisa, she smiled once during this whole meeting. But it wasn't a normal smile, her teeth didn't show, and it seemed like she was only happy when she was alone.
I wanted to spend more time with her, but she pissed me off, so I left the bathroom without a good-bye, only writing See ya, Mona Lisa in Sharpie, on the bathroom wall, I left my phone number right under it. I went back into the party, noticing the bottles of booze everywhere (beer mostly). Left the dorm and took a cab to one those cheap motels – that people usually commit suicide in. No I wasn't going to do that, but it looked like I felt – don't ask, I'm in a poetic mood today.
I kinda just plopped on the bed and sent Maria a text:
We're through; don't even try looking for me.
Jasper
I guess she liked me, she sent a text right back:
You're committing suicide, aren't you? I really liked you Jasper, you're being stupid.
Maria
I didn't answer back, let her think what she wants, it's not like I would commit suicide over her, she was a stupid, vain bitch, who didn't deserve me or anyone for that matter.
I started thinking about tonight; it was confusing and that irritated me. I didn't do anything but talk to Mona Lisa if I started over-thinking it. I didn't really want to think any more, so I took off my pants and button-down and snuggled into the cover. Thinking about her, the person I ran away from.
A/n: Kinda short, but I liked it. Not multi-chapter, but a two-shot. Also, what do you think? And listen to the song, some of it doesn't make sense unless you do.
