This was story challenge presented to me by KityKat1. She wanted something to capture Shane's icky-ness that seems to ooze out of his pores. Here it is. I don't own anyone but Rian. HUGE HUGE HUGE shout out to wwefaneam41 for her help with this story as I push it out. If you haven't read her stuff...I feel sorry for you. How to Love and Show Me How to Love are ridiculous amazing. Please review, I like to know what you think. If you have requests feel free to drop me a msg and we can talk about it :)
"You know, I can't believe how stupid I was to think that you could stay faithful!" Rian shouted throwing clothes into a duffle bag.
"Rian, baby, we can talk about this. This is all just a misunderstanding. Come here, sit down, let's talk about this..." Alex attempted to direct his soon-to-be- ex girlfriend to the couch in the other room.
She shrugged his arm off of her shoulder. "Don't. Touch. Me."
"Rian, let me just explain. It was an accident."
She laughed. "Oh it was? It was just an accident? Well this is a story I gotta hear. Tell me A-Ry, did she trip and fall and her tongue just magically land in your mouth? When you were trying to help her up did both of your clothes just sporadically fall off? And then, when you tried to correct the offensive wardrobe malfunction, did she trip and fall again and land on your-"
"Enough Rian! You know, maybe I wouldn't have 'accidentally' found her if you didn't keep your business under lock and key! You know, I put in all this work on you, I expect to get laid."
"You really are a tool. A spitting image of Mike. Let's not forget who's apartment this is. I am going to a hotel tonight to rest up before hitting the road tomorrow. I want your crap out of here before this tour is over, got it?" It was really rhetorical as she was halfway out the door before he could even take a breath to answer.
Rian took the long way to the hotel. She wanted to drive fast in cover of night while her stereo played the moment's soundtrack louder than it should. How could he? After everything they'd been through together? After everything she did for him? She loved him, wasn't that good enough? I don't put out enough? Every night isn't good enough? Fuckin' animal that man. You know, he wasn't even that good in bed. I'm better off. By the time she pulled into the parking lot she had herself convinced leaving him was the right thing. A stop at the hotel bar after checking in was in order. She needed to pick up her good friend Jack Daniels and Jose Cuervo. They never turned their backs on her.
"Welcome to the-"
"I need a room. Any will do, it's just me." She interrupted.
"Well let's see here..." a few hundred clicks from the keyboard filled the silence. "Okay, I have a room available. How long will you be-"
"Give me two nights. I will check out tomorrow but probably not until after the checkout time so just give me two nights."
"Alright. And how will-"
"Here's my card. Listen, can you direct me to the bar?"
"Sure. It's just around the corner there. You can have your tab charged to your room with your room key." Again the clicks echoed out from behind the desk. "Okay, your all set. We have you in room 1026. It is on the second floor, just past the elevators. Enjoy your stay." The all-too-happy front desk agent handed Rian her credit card and room key with a minimum-wage smile.
"Thanks." She turned to the elevators to drop of her bag before heading down to the bar. The room was nice. Smelled clean, linens felt clean and the bed was huge. She had almost forgotten what it was like to have a bed all to herself. Such luxury. Throwing her bag on the chair next to the bed, Rian slipped her room key and credit card in her back pocket. It was time to forget the past.
The hotel bar was typical. Dark, stale air, and the slight aroma of cigars and cigarettes even though the place had been smoke free for years. A quick survey told her all the usual players were here. The whore waiting for a 'john' in an unfortunate red sequin number, the businessmen sprinkled throughout attempting to read the Journal through double vision and a couple of wild cards chatting up the barkeep. It was a barstool kind of night.
"What can I get ya?"
"Give me a shot of tequila, and a Jack & Coke. Thanks."
"Room number?"
"Oh, 1026, thanks." Rian made herself comfortable at the far end. This was the best spot for solitude and people watching.
Alone she sat, nursing the whiskey-coke one after another and taking shots of tequila in between. Watching the condensation bead and fall, a familiar voice cut in.
"What are you trying to forget?"
Rian turned around, faster than she should in her state. "Phil? What are you doing here?"
The man took the empty stool next to her. "There was a concert I wanted to see before we set off on another long tour tomorrow so I flew in for the night. I stopped by your place to say hey but..."
"How did you know I was here?"
"I didn't. I got a room here earlier. I was going to turn in for the evening but recognized that mop of red curls and wanted to see how you were."
"Oh I'm just great. Alex is sleeping with Kelly. According to him I don't put out enough. So, I told him to pack his shit and get out. Though somehow I ended up at the hotel...that seems backwards..."
He laughed at her honesty. "Good for you. I always thought you could do better."
Rian raised her glass in agreement. "And now I will. How was your concert?"
"A disappointment. Live music can not be enjoyed when teenagers mistake strong baselines and emotionally charged lyrics for moshing music and girls scream like banshee's hoping to be the next notch on the bedpost. I don't know why I bother really."
"Why do any of us bother with anything anymore?" Her words were starting to slur as the drunken philosophy came pouring out of her alcohol stained breath. "I mean the beauty has gone from everything. Nothing in this world isn't about sex anymore. Why does everything have to be about sex? Sex, Sex, SEX! There are other things in this world besides sex."
Laughter escaped his mouth once again. "Alright, when the philosopher comes out, Rian goes to bed. C'mon, I'll walk you to your room."
Not coherent enough to understand exactly what that meant, Rian threw an arm over his shoulder and walked with him out of the bar.
"You know Phil, or should I call you Punk? Or CM? You have a lot of names."
"You can call me Phil, Rian."
"Punk it is. You know Punk, you and I have always been right there. Always on the same page."
Struggling to keep her on her feet, Punk chuckled. "Rian, right now I don't think we are even in the same book, let alone the same book shelf. Let's get you to bed."
"Phillip, that was way too philosophical for me. That kind of understanding disappeared after round 3. Or 4. Oh, my room! Gureat." She sighed.
"Don't ever call me Phillip." Punk helped her with the apparently extremely complex key-card system and got her in bed and under the blankets. "Alright, sleep off tonight, we have a drive tomorrow. I'll come by and check on you in the morning."
"You know Phillip? It's going to be so nice sleeping without someone trying to grope me all nigh..." Rian drifted off to drunk sleep before finishing that last word. Snores quickly commenced.
"Don't call me Phillip. Goodnight, Rian." He laid a soft kiss on her forehead before letting himself out of her room and retiring to his own. "Well, that's a fortunate turn of events. Maybe now I can show her what dating a real man is like."