Sighing, I paced anxiously around the ladies' room of the Syracuse airport, the tapping of my shoe soles keeping me company as I continuously walked around.
"What am I going to tell him? He's so going to leave me when I tell him. But who said he had to find out?" My head was swimming with complicated questions that had no definite answer.
Looking into the bathroom mirror, I studied my reflection. Over the past nearly two years, I had changed so much. My hair was shaggy and short, hanging no lower than chin-length. It was dyed a solid jet-black. My hair was thick and a bit greasy. But it didn't matter how it looked, because it was pressed down by a woolly black beanie, the ends curling up around the brim.
My brilliant, icy-blue eyes gazed into themselves. They no longer held a sense of cheer or warmth. It was similar to looking down into a bottomless pit, so cold, deep, and lifeless. My complexion was an unhealthy pasty white and was a bit oily, but otherwise, clear. My face was no longer round, but narrow and my cheekbones were more prominent.
I had gone from one hundred and thirty-two pounds, to ninety-five pounds. My once-solid body was now wiry and curvy and I had gained a fragile hourglass figure. It seemed like the only part of my body that didn't change was my 36B chest. Even my piercings were different. I no longer had my belly button or tongue pierced and my right eyebrow now had a tiny silver ring in it.
I straightened my black Misfits boy-beater and black leather jacket. My baggy black TRIPP pants hung loosely off of my hips, a grommet belt tightly strapped around my waist to hold them up. Several silver chains held off my pants, clinging together with every move I made.
Taking a deep breathe, I shouldered my duffel bag and left the bathroom.
"'Cause I've been waiting for you, waiting for all my life. And I've been dying for you, dying for all this time." I looked up to see Ville running towards me. He collided with me, knocking me onto my back and he sat on my stomach.
"Did ya miss me, sweetheart?" he asked, a broad grin on his face.
"Nope. Not at all," I told him, sarcastically, of course, a smile dancing on my lips. He kissed my forehead and stood up, pulling me to my feet easily.
"You look great, love," he smiled.
"See? We have ESP! We both mutilated our hair!" I laughed, running my fingers through his dark hair, which looked like he had just stepped out of the 'Wings of a Butterfly' video. I admired how I could easily style it with my fingertips. Ville innocently and continuously kissed me as he let me give him a mini-mohawk.
"He'll be right there in her arms, so in love. He'll be right there in those arms, he can't let go," Mige, Gas, and Burton chorused as Linde, Gas, Burton, Mige, Kaite, Ashley, Bam, Twiggy, and Jordan walked up to us.
"Can we go home?" I asked. "We haven't seen Tyler, Rylee, and Damian in forever."
"And I need some Hot Pockets! I haven't had any Hot Pockets in forever! THERE ARE NO HOT POCKETS IN EUROPE OR ASIA, YA KNOW!" Twiggy whined.
***
The Next Morning:
Everything seemed so quiet. It was so unnatural considering the insanity of our three kids and seven roommates. Getting out of bed, I slid on a pair of pajama bottoms, a bra, and a baggy t-shirt. I smirked when I saw Ville's boxers thrown by the door and the rest of his clothes on the back of the black leather couch in our room. My clothes were in a pile next to our bed. Instantly, I was reminded of the previous night. In my mind, I was lost in the memory of our warm skin touching and how we sensually made love. Leaving the memory in the privacy of our bedroom, I ventured downstairs.
It was ten in the morning. Haley, Jared, Ashley, and Twiggy were surfing the Internet while Jordan read in our private library. Jeff and his pregnant fiancée, Jessica, sat on the couch together, looking through a book of baby names. I smiled. Everything was so tranquil and content.
Too bad it can't stay like this forever, I thought. Walking into our large, cozy kitchen, I sat down at the table. Tyler and Rylee were eating from Ville's bowl of Cheerios as he tried to read his in-progress songs over the tops of their heads. As I passed Damian, I tousled his long, dark, shaggy hair. He looked over at me and smiled before going back to his breakfast. I looked back over at Ville.
"Valo, I'm so proud of you. You finally discovered how to make breakfast for the twins," I laughed. Ville peered into his bowl of cereal.
"Hey!" he said. "You two didn't leave me a single Cheerio!" Rylee and Tyler gave him their best, 'I'm sorry, Daddy' puppy-dog pouts and I laughed again.
"Ry, Ty, leave your father alone," I told them. As Ville stood up, they jumped out of his lap, ran to the other side of the table, and sat in mine. Ville walked over to a cupboard, pulling out a bag of Goldfish crackers. He returned to his seat and Rylee got back in his lap.
Ville reached into the bag of Goldfish, pulling out a handful.
"The snack that smiles back -" he popped one into his mouth, "-until you eat them." Rylee picked some crackers off of Ville's open hand and popped them into her mouth, like Ville had done.
"They should make Death Metal Goldfish. With mohawks," Damian said. He played an air guitar. "DUN DUN NUN NUN NUN NUN, DUH!"
"The snack that smiles back, UNTIL YOU DECAPITATE THEIR HEADS!" I laughed maniacally.
"Nice, love," Ville smiled.
"I'm so gonna invent Death Metal Goldfish," I said. "And singing stoves."
"Singing stoves?!" Ville asked. I nodded.
"So you can listen to music while you cook without having to put up with a radio. You would be able to download MP3s on it. Wouldn't that be rad?"
"Uh, sure. Whatever keeps you and your roommates sane." Ville went back to his Goldfish.
"What do you think will happen? I mean, we're home and happy. My karma doesn't allow that without something really stressful planned." Ville shrugged. The phone rang.
"IT'S FOR YOU!" everyone in the house chorused. Over the past couple of years, we had developed a habit of saying, 'it's for you' because none of us wanted to get the phone.
"Oh, don't all rush at once," I said sarcastically, picking up the nearest phone. "Hello?"
"Margera's Donkey farm: we haul ass!" Kaite exclaimed.
"Noice! Whadaya want?"
"Wow. What a friendly greeting. Bam wanted to talk to you so, here he is-"
"I don't wanna talk to Bam! And plus, can't you tell what he's thinking?"
"No..."
"Ville and I have ESP. We can read each other's minds. Right now he's thinking: Damn, Ritt, is so sexy. If we were home alone right now, I'd sex her like she's never been sexed before," I laughed.
"How'd you know?" Ville questioned, laughing with me. I grinned.
"'Cause I'm just that damn good."
"DADDY!" Bam-Bam chimed.
"What?" Bam was heard in the background.
"So, Kaite, whadaya want?"
"We're recording another album during the next couple of months. Me, you, Twiggy, Jordan, Ashley, Bam, Ville, and Jussi are driving to Cali tomorrow afternoon. Mentally prepare yourself for putting up with the longest road trip of your life."
"Wow, thanks for the notice," I said sarcastically.
"All of the kids can come, too, since we like just got off tour," Kaite told me.
"Cool. But why's Jussi coming?" I asked.
"'Cause he can. And he said that he wanted to check on things and see how we're all doing." Mentally, I screamed in frustration. I couldn't resist Jussi and didn't he know it? The last time he had wanted to, 'see how we were doing', he and I ended up getting drunk and having some wild sex. He when things between us started to get serious, he went back to Finland. And did I mention that I don't drop grudges too easily?!
The Next Day:
"FOLLOW ME, JOLLY RANCHERS!" Twiggy exclaimed as Kaite, Bam, Ashley, Jussi, Jordan, Ville, Damian, Rylee, Tyler, Bam-Bam, Twiggy and I boarded our tour bus. It would be our home away from home for three or four days until we reached California. Our tour bus was bigger than HIM's and it was black with the band's logo (X_x ) on the side in crimson.
"Beanbag chair!" I grinned. In the back half of the tour bus was the pathetic excuse for a bathroom (which only had a toilet and sink), a couch, a television, and X-Box game console for entertainment. In the way back of the bus was where all of our luggage and instruments, the ones for gigs, were stored.
In the front half of the tour bus were bunk beds, which were actually cots that were bolted to the wall. There were four total, a pair of two on either wall, and they were surprisingly comfortable. Thick, wool curtains that were a shade of ebony hung from the ceiling, covering the bunks, preventing even the brightest of lights through, and providing privacy. The bunks were built into a thick, beautiful mahogany frame that could not be moved without decapitating the whole floor of the tour bus. Also, behind the driver's seat were two narrow (in width) couches, each pushed up against a wall. They were large, soft, and comfy.
"If you get stuck in that beanbag chair, I'm not helping you out, love," Ville warned me. I shrugged before flopping down into the large, squishy beanbag chair.
"Well, maybe I'll stay in this chair until we get to Cali," I told him.
"Suit yourself. Mind if I squish you with my big butt?" Ville sat down in my lap and I groaned.
"Your gigantic ASS is making my leg go numb," I said.
"Yes, darling, but you must remember that the numbness is from an act of love," Ville cooed. I rolled my eyes.
"How are we going to organize where we sleep?" Jussi asked as he sat down on the couch across from Ville and me. Ville had his arms wrapped around my neck and his head resting on top of mine.
"Wait a sec...KAITE! BITCH, WHERE WE SLEEPING?!" I shouted.
"We're trying to decide that!" she yelled back. Bam, Jordan, Ashley, Twiggy, and herself joined Jussi, Ville, and me in the front of the tour bus.
"I CALL MY BUNK!" Jordan, Twiggy, and I said in unison.
"There goes three bunks," Kaite sighed. Ville and I would be sharing my bunk of course. "Bam n' me get my bunk. Bam-Bam, Ry, Ty, and Damian can share the fold-out couch. Jussi and Ashley, you two each get a couch." Ashley and Jussi shrugged.
Since it was around ten, way past Bam-Bam, Ty, and Ry's bedtimes, Kaite and I decided to fold out the couch that was in the back of the bus.
Bam-Bam, Ry, and Ty ran around the tour bus in their pajamas. Ville grabbed one twin and I grabbed the other, laying them down on the folded-out couch. Bam-Bam stood up on the couch and began to jump on it, causing the twins to follow suit.
"Oh, my freaking God," Kaite groaned.
"MY FREAKIN' GOD!" Rylee and Tyler echoed, squealing with excitement. We all laughed.
"Ty. Ry. See this fist?" I began. The twins each held up a small fist.
"I'm gonna beat your ass!" they finished.
"Ah, the innocence of the future," Jordan said sarcastically.
"If we're lucky, they'll keep jumping up and down until they tire themselves out," Ville said.
They didn't. They jumped for a long time. About fifteen minutes. We got sick of watching them and Ville went to fetch a movie. He popped Tim Burton's Nightmare Before Christmas into the VCR and pressed play. His actions caught the short attention spans of Rylee, Tyler, and Bam-Bam and they sat down to watch the movie. Damian did, too. The four were asleep by the middle of the movie and it was finally quiet.
Around Midnight:
Rolling over on my bunk, I sighed heavily. My restless mind kept me awake. The bunk above mine, Twiggy's, quietly creaked as he moved in his sleep. Ville softly snored next to me. He had the wall side of the bed while I had chosen the aisle-side. I closed my eyes, trying to let myself be lulled to sleep by the gentle motion of the bus as the driver continued on to California, but it only made me sick to my stomach. I opened my eyes again.
The room seemed to be spinning, even though I lay, almost completely motionless, on my bunk. My muscles had a series of spasms, causing my limbs to twitch uncontrollably and my body was beaded with cold sweat. I was having a withdrawal.
In one swift movement, I got off of the bunk. Hastily, I made my way to the back of the tour bus where all of our stuff was stored. My feet lightly touched the floor, the carpet muffling all sounds off movement.
Quickly, I dug through my duffel bag, unzipping every compartment in search of my syringe. Pulling out the needle and bottle of my addiction, I stared at the needle. It shone, tauntingly, in the dim moonlight that had managed to peer through the closed shades. My eyes adjusted to the dark. I took a brief look around before taking sanctuary in the tour bus bathroom.
Closing the door, I flicked on the light and sat on the closed toilet seat. With anticipation, I eyed the bottle that held the narcotic I had been using while Ville and I were away from each other.
I had first obtained a dose of morphine when I had been hospitalized after a concert. We had all been wasted and I had drunkenly fallen off the stage, been trampled by overexcited fans, and received a severe concussion. To kill the overwhelming pain, I had been given small doses of morphine every few hours, causing me to quickly become addicted to the narcotic. The night before I was released from the hospital, I had stolen a large supply of the drug, my over-packed duffel bag didn't seem at all suspicious to any hospital personnel.
I loaded my syringe and injected the pain relieving drug into a vein in my right forearm. Warm tears trickled down my cheeks, not because of physical pain, but because of mental anguish.
Sure, I enjoyed the pleasant euphoria I achieved by using morphine, but I knew that it was wrong. I wanted to be clean. Many times before I had told myself, this is the last time. But I kept continuing.
My body was flooded with a pleasurable numbness. The withdrawal symptoms seemed to gradually melt away with every passing second. Time seemed to mesh together and I didn't know how long I just sat there, staring off into space with a dumbfounded look on my face.
My eyelids grew heavy and I gave in to the awesome power of my addiction, but I let the tears continue. I curled up into a ball on the cold, tile floor of the bathroom and finally fell asleep.
I had lied to myself...again.
***
In California (F.F. Two Days):
"Holy hell! Hotel Valo is bigger than this place," I said, immediately losing my interest and dropping my 'excited act'. 'Manor De Freak'(really corny, I know) was a brick house with four bedrooms, two bathrooms, and was surrounded by vast, green forest.
"Do you know how rare it is to find a house so isolated from the city in Cali?" Kaite asked. "Before we even step into this place, we better organize the rooms and who sleeps where. Room one: Ville, Ritt, Ty, and Ry; room two: me, Bam, Bam-Bam, and Jordan; room three: Ashley and Jussi; and room four: Twiggy and Damian."
"Where are Sam and Caroline staying?" questioned Ashley. Caroline Summers is the woman who first helped organize Dreadful Illusions back in 1992. Samuel Summers is Caroline's cousin and the co-manager and also producer of the band.
"Management and 'Behind-the-scenes' crew always stay in a hotel," Jordan informed. Ashley, since she was the newest in the band and had not yet made an album with the band, had barely any clue what she was doing.
"Is Donny coming?" I whined. Kaite nodded and I groaned. Donny, Sam's younger brother, is another producer the band works with and he's a complete asshole.
"Nate is coming, too," Kaite told me. Nathan Daniels was a third producer. He wasn't a jerk at all. He was a sweetheart.
"I hate Nate," Twiggy complained.
"At least he's nothing like Donny," Jordan replied.
***
A Few Days Into Recording:
Donny, Nate, Sam, and I were in the 'studio', recording the vocal tracks for the album. The 'studio' was actually the dining room.
Large, expensive equipment sat on long, numerous tables, lining the walls. Sam counted to three and I tapped my foot to the beat, kept by the drums, and sang the chorus to a song called 'Demons'.
"Can you get a bit higher than that?" Donny asked. I re-sang it.
"Lower?"
I sang it a third time.
"Louder?"
And a fourth.
"No, that's too high."
A fifth.
"Eh, screw it. Sing it like the first time."
"Dip-shit, it's already recorded," Sam told Donny. Sam stood up. "C'mon, Don, let's be -" Sam looked down at his feet. He was standing on a pile of dog shit. He turned to Donny. "I TOLD YOU NOT TO LET THOSE GOD-DAMN DOGS IN THE FUCKING HOUSE!" Donny, being the dick head he is, brought his three massive Labradors, Oobi, Brae, and Kane. They were not lovable puppies like you would see at a pet shop. Oobi, Brae, and Kane were big, ugly beasts that snarled at anything that moved. They were loud and stupid, similar to their owner, Donny.
"ALL OF THIS SHIT IS BEING MOVED UPSTAIRS!" Sam roared as he grabbed Ashley's acoustic guitar. He stomped up to the attic where he was sure that the dogs would stay away. Donny scowled as he picked up Jordan's keyboard.
"Thanks a lot, Don. Now we're not gonna get any work done," I hissed, grabbing Twiggy's bass. I followed Donny and Sam up to the attic.
"Hey, I can make thunder!" I grinned, taking Twiggy's bass and swinging it. It slammed into the wall and broke into several pieces and made a deafening boom. Donny shot me a glare and Sam laughed.
"Whoa. What's going on up here?" I laughed as the three of us entered the attic. The attic was like a miniature sex-bondage chamber. A black leather bench that was about five feet long, sat by the large windows that covered a wall, giving us a fantastic view of the forest. On a long narrow table that was pushed up against another wall, held a variety of leather belts, whips, and handcuffs. Sam tossed a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs to me, laughing.
"Here's a pair for you and Valo," he grinned.
"Oh, yeah. 'Valo, make them tight. I've been bad!'"
***
F.F. A Few Days:
Skipping down the hall like...myself, I hummed a random tune. I had just finished the vocals to, 'Beautiful Catastrophe' and 'Demons'. All of the drum and keyboard tracks were already done so Kaite and Jordan got to relax.
Continuing down the hallway, I walked past a slightly open closet door. Suddenly, a hand was cupped over my mouth and I was pulled inside the closet. I screamed but no use; the hand muffled my voice.
"Will you relax? I just want to talk to you," a voice told me. I was pinned to a wall, my hands being held behind my back. My face was up against a wall. I heard the pull of the chain of the room's only light source, a tiny light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The closet was instantly bathed in a dim light. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jussi, holding my hands behind my back. His body was pressed to mine, except for the fact that my back was facing him.
"Holy shit. I'm being ass-humped by the Hugh Hefner of Finland," I said. Jussi laughed softly. One of his hands reached up the front of my shirt, cupping one of my breasts after unclasping my bra. As a reflex, I moaned. Once realizing that I was with Jussi and not Ville, I, with difficulty, stopped my moan.
"Jussi, I'm married now. To Ville. My one night stand days have been over for a couple years. I have three kids, a husband, a home, a career, Jussi, I have a life now. I grew up. Apparently, you didn't," I told Jussi. Jussi rested his head on my shoulder, his mouth right next to my ear.
"I know why you've changed so much, why you pass out in the bathroom at night," he whispered. My heart began to race nervously.
"P-p-prove it," I stuttered.
"You're addicted to morphine, Ritt."
"So what? Are you going to con me into having sex with you?! That's blackmail and rape!" I answered.
"No. I'm not blackmailing you. I'm not pressuring you to do anything. I'm not like that."
"Then why are you here?" I asked, tears streaming down my face.
"To give you someone to talk to." He released my hands, allowing me to decide if I wanted to leave or stay. Jussi sat down on the floor, his back leaning up against a wall. Hesitantly, I, too, sat down, leaning back on the wall opposite Jussi.
"Why do you care if I use morphine or not?" I suddenly blurted out, sounding a bit mad. Jussi looked a little hurt. "Oh, sorry. But, really, why do you care?"
"Because you're my friend and I love you. You do realize that one day you'll overdose and there will be no one to save you?" I thought it over, tears steadily falling as I realized Jussi was right. My tolerance for morphine had greatly risen. Jussi tried to comfort me and he wrapped his arms around my small frame and he let me cry on his shoulder.
"It's okay. You can cry," Jussi said softly, handing me a large bottle of Jack Daniels.
Jussi's P.O.V. A Few Hours Later:
Both of us gasping for air, we sat in each other's arms, naked, in the closet. How...romantic? Ritt's breath stunk of whiskey and she tasted like warm, salty tears.
"I needed that," she sighed. I nodded, running my fingers through her dark hair. She ran her hand up and down my well-built torso, smiling. About two minutes later, she was fast asleep in my arms.
Quietly, I stood up, so as not to wake her up, and pulled on my boxers and pants.
Opening the closet door, I stuck my head outside and checked to see if Ville was around. I saw that the coast was clear. I wrapped her in some blankets and picked Ritt up bridal-style, hastily carrying her to the room Ville, Ry, Ty, and she were sharing.
The room was empty. Focused on getting back to the closet to clean up, I almost ran into Ville outside of their room.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"N-nothing," I stuttered, avoiding looking into his eyes. He entered the room and I began to sprint down the hallway towards the closet. I heard Ville not too far behind me.
Sharply turning the corner, I ran into the closet door, fumbling for the door handle. It was stuck and wouldn't open. Ville dove onto me and it was a tornado of fists as we wrestled right there in the middle of the hallway. Whenever Ville would pin to the floor, I would roll right over and pin him singlehandedly.
"Ville! Jussi! What the F*CK are you two doing?!" The two of us stopped fighting and looked up. Bam, Twiggy, Sam, Donny, Nate, Kaite, Jordan, and Ashley were standing a few feet away from us. Since I was currently pinned to the floor, I punched Ville in the jaw, taking the pause for granted, and we went back to beating the shit out of each other.
Without hesitation, Bam, Twiggy, Sam, Nate, Ashley, and Jordan pulled Ville and me away from each other. Sam, Ashley, and Nate held me back on one side of the hallway, while Bam, Twiggy, and Jordan held Ville back on the other side of the hall.
Since Bam, Twiggy, and Jordan held Ville back by his jacket collar, he slid out of his jacket and knocked me back down onto the floor, hitting me as hard as he could. This time, Jordan, Twiggy, Bam, Kaite, and Damian held Valo away from me. Both of us were breathing heavily and giving each other death glares.
"What is this all over?" Sam questioned.
"Ritt and Jussi..." Ville muttered.
"What did Ritt and Jussi do, Ville?" Jordan asked.
"T-they..." Ville was speechless. He held up both hands. One was in the shape of an 'o' and on his other hand, he held up his index finger. He pushed his index finger through the 'o', pushing it in and pulling it out rapidly and in a continuous pattern.
"Oh, Valo. Ritt and Jussi, erm...'banged'?" Kaite asked. Slowly, Ville nodded and everyone glared at me. I had screwed up big time.
"Ville, are you and Ritt over with?" Ashley questioned with a sad expression on her face.
"I DON'T KNOW! I DON'T KNOW WHO I SHOULD BE MAD AT! I DON'T KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT!" he shouted.
***
Kaite's P.O.V. F.F The Next Day:
"She didn't even know what she was doing! She was drunk and, because we all know how she is when she's drunk, Ville shouldn't be mad at her!"
"I know, Kaite. But Ville has his hands full, he can't think clearly," Jordan told me. Jordan and I were standing outside in the backyard, smoking like chimneys. Ritt was my best friend and I would do anything to prevent her heart from breaking even more. Ritt was suicidal enough as it was.
"That still doesn't give him the right to yell at her and treat her like shit!" I yelled. Since she was completely plowed the day she and Jussi fucked, Ritt was totally oblivious to it happening.
"I know. They go together so well. If they get divorced, it would be like grinding Ritt's face in the dirt. Everything would be more fucked up than it already is!" There were several screams, a giant smash, and loud sobbing. Looking at each other, Jordan and I ran inside. Ville and Ritt were in their room, having a screaming contest. Nate was holding the twins, trying to deprive the two toddlers of such strife occurring between their mother and father. Nate, the twins, Damian, Sam, Ashley, and Twiggy stayed out in the hallway, trying to block out the arguing. Jordan and I walked into the room to try and cease the fighting, but they ignored us like we weren't there.
"I don't even fuckin' know why the hell you're mad at me, you asshole!" Ritt screamed, tears streaming down her face.
"It's because you're a fucking sex-addicted bitch!"
"I'M NOT A WHORE!"
"I never said you were, but you're pretty damn close to one!"
"How, Ville?! How am I a sex-addicted bitch?!"
"You fucked Jussi! Don't play stupid!"
"I'M NOT PLAYING STUPID! PULL YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR DUMB ASS! I DIDN'T F*CK JUSSI, AND IF I DID, I WOULD TELL YOU!"
"Oh, please, spare me the bullshit!"
"I'm serious!"
"I'm forbidding you to drink alcohol! As far as I know, you could be leading a double life!" Ville roared. "'Look at me! I'm Ritt Valo! I'm a rich, spoiled, selfish rock star and I do anything I want! I have a nice life, but I don't care! I LOVE HAVING WILD, LUSTFUL SEX WITH OLD FRIENDS!'" Ville mocked Ritt in a high - pitched, girlie voice.
Jussi walked into the room since the door was wide open. Ritt walked over to him and smacked him, hard, across the face.
"YOU'RE A DIRTY MAN-WHORE!" she yelled at Jussi. Then, she walked back over to Ville, smacking him even harder across the face.
"AND YOU'RE A PRICK!" Ritt ran out of the room, her face tear-streaked and her eyes puffy. We all heard her slam the bathroom door shut.
"You two both deserved that," I hissed as Jussi and Ville examined the stinging red handprints on their faces. Ville knew he made a huge mistake. He sat on the edge of their bed, cradling his head in his hands. Donny walked into the room, lighting a cigarette and patting Ville reassuringly on the shoulder.
"Yeah. Ritt's like a hardware store: five cents a screw," Donny told Ville. "She was a slut, Valo. You're better off without her." Ville looked like he was going to rip Donny's imaginary balls off.
"SHE'S NOT A FUCKING SLUT! SAY ONE MORE THING ABOUT HER AND I'LL F*CKING KILL YOU!" Ville shouted. Donny, a bit frightened by Ville's sudden anger, fled the room.
"He still loves her," Jordan said in a singsong voice.
***
Normal P.O.V.(Six Hours Later):
I hadn't left the bathroom. For anything. It was my shield, preventing me from going insane, even though I could already be easily classified as insane.
"Sweetheart, you'll have to come out sooner or later," Ville said through the door. Within the passing hours, Ville had called to me many times, each time he called his voice slowly losing that feeling of anger. I don't know why he bothered to try to talk to me. Didn't he think I was just a 'sex-addicted bitch'?
"No I won't," I declared.
My stomach growled loudly and I tried to muffle it. There was a pause before he asked, softly, "You're hungry, aren't you?" I didn't answer.
"Nah. I'm completely full. And plus, it's a bathroom. There are millions of things to eat: toothpaste, cleaner chemicals, unnecessary meds..."
"You're such a boob," Ville said with an exasperated sigh. I grinned.
"I'm the Royal Boob."
"Wow. So negative today."
"Why are you even talking to me?! I thought I was a rich, selfish, sex-addicted bitch?"
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I-I didn't mean to be so cold," Ville replied.
"Whatever, Valo. I'm dead to you. Leave me alone so I can rot in the solitary Hell I created."
"But I don't want to leave you alone."
"They call it 'rest in peace' for a reason," I mumbled. "Now I'm gonna die, decay, and go to Hell, so, leave."
"Nope." My stomach growled again. "C'mon, love, just open the door."
"No."
"Want me to hug you?"
"No."
"Kiss you?"
"No."
"Squeeze you?"
"No!"
"Call you 'George'?"
"No!" I laughed.
"Fine, be that way, GEORGE." He sighed dramatically, exaggerating the 'George'. "I guess I'll have to eat this whole package of Twix by myself," he taunted. My mouth watered.
Damn him for knowing my favorites.
"Gimme some Twix!"
"No."
"Yes!"
"Hell no."
"Fuck yeah!"
"You'll have to come out here if you want any."
"Gimme some candy, ya blackmailing jerk-face."
"Just come out of the bathroom."
"No! You come in here!"
"Then unlock the door."
"Well, then maybe I will!" I said, reaching out and unlocking the door. Ville came into the bathroom, relocking the door behind himself. I held out an open hand. "GIMME CANDEH!"
"Gimme a kiss first." I kissed him on the cheek. He smirked, reached into his pocket, and pulled out several Twix wrappers, placing them in my hand. I gave him a puppy dog pout.
"I was hungry," he answered innocently.
"You're the heartless."
"You know ya love me."
"Why did I even let you in here?! You and Jussi are such dick-heads!" Ville gave me a puppy dog pout. "I'm immune to those."
"C'mon, BRATtany, I'm sorry."
"Do you expect me to just forgive you like that? And you're insulting my name!" I told him. Ville sat down next to me on the floor.
"No," he sighed. With my knees up, I rested my elbows on my knees, my head propped up by my arms.
I looked straight ahead, avoiding Ville's eyes. "I was just so mad, everything was just fogged up and cloudy. I couldn't think at all."
"I bet. But, Valo, I swore to tell the truth the day I said, 'I do'. The only time I would ever lie to you would be if I have a surprise planned or something. So, who won the fight between you and Jussi? Jordan never told me who won."
"Everyone jumped in before we could do any real damage," Ville said. "But Jussi's nose was bleeding and now his left eye's black and blue." I looked at Ville, at his face. His bottom lip had a dark spot on it, like it had split open, and his right cheek was bruised.
"Wow. He punched you that hard, huh?" I questioned, gently running my fingers over the bruise. Ville laughed softly.
"No, love. That is from when you smacked me."
"Oh! I'm sorry! I've always had a talent for slapping hard," I laughed. "You still owe me some Twix."
"That's a small price to pay to get you back, darling."
F.F. A Few Weeks...
"Why are you all screwing around?" Donny hissed.
"Fuck off, Donny," I muttered.
"So, whatcha all doing?" Sam questioned.
"Nothing," we sighed.
"Well, in case Sam hasn't told you yet, you have been filmed since you got here in January," Donny said. We had been in California for almost six months; it was now June 2009.
"No way! I thought the cameramen and lighting came with the house!" I said sarcastically. "You fooled me, Donny!" Of course we had noticed the cameras and excess people walking around the mansion and filming us for a couple months.
"The footage will be part of a 'making-of-the-album' that will air on MTV. For now, all of you will be flown to Syracuse, New York for a concert, now that you have new material," Donny added.
"MTV is over-rated. Fuse is better," Jordan and Twiggy commented.
"Is the concert in Syracuse? Are we just landing in Syracuse? ARE WE GOING TO K-ROCKATHON?!" Kaitlyn asked.
"No. K-Rockathon isn't until July," Sam said. We groaned.
"The concert is in Syracuse," Donny told us. "Landmark theater."
"That's stupid. We won't even get anyone to come," I whined.
The only time any bands came to Syracuse was for the New York State Fair.
"We're staying with Davey-boy, Corey, Matt, Nate, and Oshae, right?" Ashley questioned. Donny nodded.
"I heard that Matt, Nate, and Oshae have been doing business with a drug dealer and they haven't been paying him. So the drug dealer's mad and been showering them with bullets for the past couple of days and will be until they pay up," Jordan explained.
"Awesome. I'll be getting shot at," I said, still being sarcastic. "The kids are NOT staying there with us! They'll all stay at my parents'."
"Do you even thank your parents for doing this so much?" Jordan asked.
"They're my parents. They better get used to it. They'll be watching the kids until the twins are in thirteen."
Donny and Sam started to leave the room.
"Oh, yeah. The album should be out in mid-August," Sam added.
F.F. 3 Days (June 10, 2009):
Jussi, Ville, Kaite, Bam, Ashley, Jordan, Twiggy, and I had to be crammed into a tiny private jet for a few hours and then into a variety of cars for several more hours. All we had were a bunch of bean burritos from gas stations and none of us were able to take a shower for three days. Whoo. Fantastic.
"Oh my god! Air!" Jordan exclaimed. "I had been in a Dutch oven for way too long!"
The tiny car that the eight of us had to be crammed in was parked in the driveway of Corey, a friend that I had known since the sixth grade. Corey and four other friends, David, Nate, and Oshae, all lived in a tiny four bedroom, one-story house in Syracuse. The 8 of us grabbed our bags and walked up to the door. Twiggy knocked.
"C'mon in!" I heard Corey shout. We all walked in.
"Where we sleeping?" Twiggy asked, yawning.
"Rude, much?" Kaite asked.
"I'm fuggin' tired!" Twiggy told her.
"Ritt and husband can get the guest room, Bam and Kaite get Matt and Davey-boy's room, weird guy and Twiggy get Nate and Oshae's room, and Ashley and Jordan get my room," Corey explained. "I'll pass out in the living room."
"Well, I don't know about Kaite, Ville, Jordan, Twiggy, and the rest of you butt-nuggets, but I'm going to sleep. Valo kept me up the last two days," I said, turning on my heels and going into the guest room Ville and I would be sharing.
Closing the door behind myself, I left the light off. Yawning, I flopped down on the lumpy mattress, feeling a spring being jammed into my back.
"Now I know why they all sleep out in the living room," I groaned, wondering if all of the mattresses were like this. Pulling off my shirt, shoes, and pants, I curled up into the fetal position under the bed's many blankets. After tossing and turning for what felt like forever, I feel asleep.
***
Ville's P.O.V.:
About two hours after Brittany had decided to go to bed, I began to feel a bit drowsy. Standing up, I yawned and walked to our room, leaving everyone to watch the movie they had been watching in peace. Closing the door behind myself, I looked at the bed.
On the bed was a giant pile of blankets and I knew that somewhere under all of those blankets was the woman I loved. Brittany rolled over, causing all of the blankets to fall off her body.
She lay, fast asleep, in the middle of the mattress. Her hair was untidy and, as usual, her black beanie pressed it down, causing the ends to curl up around the brim. Wearing only a bra and a pair of my boxer shorts, she shivered. I observed the steady, constant rise and fall of her chest as she inhaled and exhaled.
Not being able to help myself, I crawled in next to her on the mattress. The mattress, being hard and lumpy, was very uncomfortable, but it was worth it. All I needed was to know that the love of my life was safe and there with me. Carefully, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her towards my body. I only had to pull her a short distance before she crawled closer to the source of heat, the heat from my body, in her sleep. I smiled. This was how life was meant to be: just me and my Poison Girl.
"She is smiling, like heaven's down on earth. Sun is shining so bright on her. And all her wishes have finally come true, and her heart is weeping, this happiness is killing her," I softly sang. "She'll be right here in my arms, so in love. She'll be right here in these arms, she can't let go."
"He'll be right here in my arms, so in love. He'll be right here in these arms, he can't let go," Brittany sang, joining in with her own version.
"Damn, you have a lot of hair," I gawked as I ran my fingers through Ville's hair. "More than I do!"
"That's because you keep chopping all of your hair off."
"Yeah, well, I'm growing it out now. It is now, officially, shoulder-length!" I smiled. "But you still have more hair than I do. Yours is thicker...and soft and curly, like...pubes!"
"Oh, real nice. I'm so glad that you can easily compare the hair ON MY HEAD to PUBIC HAIR," Ville said sarcastically. I shrugged.
"If you don't like it like pubes, then put some gel in it," I suggested.
"But it's nighttime."
"So, gel is sexy. And plus, you don't need to go to sleep anytime soon." I stood up and Ville did the same. We walked into the living room.
"SHAE! SHAE!" I shouted at Oshae. He looked up.
"Wut?" he asked stupidly. I pet the dark, curly thick hair that covered his large, empty head. It was like a basketball; full of nothing but air.
"It's like a sheep!" I exclaimed. I turned towards Ville. "See, Valo? Oshae's hair is like pubes. There's nothing to be ashamed of!"
"Wait, you're comparing my hair to pubes?! HANDS OFF!" Oshae yelled.
"You're such men. Oh, god. What's that smell?" I asked, pulling the front of my shirt up over my nose.
"That, Ritt, is the stench of five male roommates," Matt told me as he farted loudly. Everyone groaned and pulled the front of their shirts up over their noses. Everyone except for Matt, that is. He simply waved his hand around, fanning the foul odor throughout the living room.
"C'mon, Matt! Can't you at least light a match?!" Nate complained.
"Corey, will I get shot if I go outside?" I asked.
"There's a chance. What do you need to go outside for?" Corey replied.
"To escape the smell of five male roommates and to get a pack of cigarettes out of the car," I said.
"Aw, Ritt. You're gonna start smoking again?" Twiggy frowned. Pulling on a windbreaker, I went outside, followed by Jordan, Kaite, and Ville.
The four of us stood at the end of the driveway. I was rocking back and forth on my feet.
"Don't wanna close my eyes, don't wanna fall asleep, 'cuz I miss you, baby, and I don't wanna miss a thing," I sang under my breath for no apparent reason.
"Didn't you sing that song to me over the phone when I was on tour once?" Ville questioned. My face burned red. Kaite and Jordan snickered. In public, I was a bad-ass and wasn't known to be soft. It was kind of embarrassing that Ville revealed one of our 'private moments'. It's not like he did it purposely, though.
"Maybe," I replied, giving Ville a small smile.
"Aw, is wittle Bwittany embarrassed?" Ville asked in a babyish tone. I grinned.
"No, not really, 'Boo'."
"That should be our song, Ville said, trying to change the subject.
"What should be our song? 'My Boo'?" I asked.
"No."
"You will always be my boo, Willa Walo!"
"No, 'I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing'," Ville told me.
All seemed calm. Every sound was magnified and my ears could pick up every whistle of the wind, every step on the pavement. The golden silence was broken by the pounding of the bass in a car stereo. A ghetto ass van sped down the street, stereo blasting. As the van drove by, there were several gun shots. The four of us dove to the ground.
When the van was gone, Kaite, Jordan, and I stood up and Ville remained hunched over.
"Hey, Ville, the van's gone," I said, rubbing his back. The tips of my fingers brushed over a damp spot on his back. Gulping, I knew what had happened. Withdrawing my hand, I gazed down at my fingertips. They were covered in a crimson substance: Ville's blood.
"Oh, god," I breathed. "Ville, baby, don't die on me here!" Still doubled over, Ville looked up at me. My heart was crushed as he grimaced, but withstood the pain long enough to give me a small smile. Tears streamed down my face. Ville was suffering, yet he was only thinking of assuring me that he was okay.
"I'll go get help!" Kaite said. I heard her run into the house. My head ached and I couldn't breathe too well. I was light-headed and felt like I was going to puke. I get panic attacks at the times where I need to think! I mentally screamed at myself. Ville was now on his side, laying in a pool of blood that was growing larger with every passing second. His breathes were growing farther apart, fewer in number, and sounded labored. Sitting on the ground, I placed Ville's head in my lap, brushing his hair out of his face.
"Brittany, please, no more morphine," Ville gasped. He closed his eyes. Adrenaline pulsed through my system. My heart was racing, pounding against my ribcage. My tears trickled onto Ville's face and into his hair as I sobbed.
Thirty-two year old male, suffering a gunshot wound. Please hurry!" Kaite spoke rapidly into her cell phone. She added the address which I couldn't and didn't care to hear.
***
Ville's P.O.V.:
Blinded by the immense pain in my back, I could only hear Brittany's loud sobs. I felt so helpless. Her salty tears dripped onto my face and into my hair. My life flashed before my eyes; I was dying.
I saw Brittany and I on a couch in a certain New York City hotel room. The nearly-transparent, thin curtains of the balcony doors gracefully blew in the slight breeze. Moonlight shone on us, our bodies so intertwined that they were indistinguishable. It was the memory of the first time we had made love, nearly six years ago in the summer of 2003.
Every precious moment in my life was replaying in my mind. Thirty-two years of life played before my eyes in a matter of seconds.
My breaths grew farther apart from each other to a point where I was dizzy and sick to my stomach. At that moment, I suddenly appreciated the little things in life. Things as simple as oxygen were more valuable to than anything. Every inhale, every warm, sad tear that fell onto my face was like heaven because it was a sign that I was still alive and on Earth for at least a second longer.
I heard the piercing wail of sirens, but the worst was not over yet. My heart was being crushed as I felt myself being lifted into the ambulance. Brittany's sobs were amplified so that they were louder than the sirens. I realized that one of the last things I had said about her was that I had slightly mocked her. I had revealed part of one of our intimate moments. Brittany was known to be a tough girl and it wasn't often that she showed any signs of lovey-dovey affection to anyone. I felt like such a jerk. First, I had crossed one of our nearly-sacred boundaries and now, she would be abandoned. She was my past, present, and was meant to be my future. She brightened up each day I spent with her.
I gradually grew numb. Sounds grew fainter and my memories began to disappear, to slip through my fingers. Trying to recapture my treasured memories was like trying to grasp smoke. And like smoke, I felt myself slipping away...
Normal P.O.V. (At the Hospital):
Overcome by extreme worry and boredom, I paced up and down the hospital corridor outside of Ville's room. It was all I was limited to. Why did I go outside?! I could have saved Ville's life if I had just stayed in the house.
"Now is not a time for regrets," I mumbled. I ached for morphine, but then I remembered how Ville wanted me to stop.
"If I get better and lose the morphine, then Ville will get better as well," I told myself. A young doctor came out of Ville's room and I looked up, still hopeful.
"Mr. Valo has a 75 to 25 chance," the young doctor declared.
"Seventy-five being?" I held my breath.
"Twenty-five being his chances of living and seventy-five being...him passing on."
"Oh my god!" my mother gasped. My parents, Ville's parents, and my eldest brother, Tyler, had come to the hospital. The five were sitting in the chairs outside of Ville's room. Even my father, who completely hated Ville, looked a bit depressed.
"And how are you so fucking positive that those are his chances?" I hissed.
"He's slipping in and out of consciousness. He needs blood, but from what we've observed, he doesn't want any from the hospital," the doctor replied, gazing at me with large, sorrowful, hazel eyes.
"He's fucking delusional! Stick a fucking IV in his arm when he's out!" I yelled. She shook her head.
"If only it were that simple. Ms. Valo, he's rapidly slipping in and out. By the time we properly inserted the IV, he would be conscious again; he'd just pull it out," she answered.
"I'm his blood type and I'm not a hospital blood bank. He'll accept blood from me," I said.
"Are you sure you two are the same blood type?"
"Positive," I told her.
"Okay, than. C'mon." I followed the doctor inside Ville's room. Sitting down in a chair next to his hospital bed, a nurse inserted a needle into my arm. I winced; I hated needles, but my dislikes weren't half as important as Ville's survival. Ville stirred and I placed my hand on his.
"Shh, it's be alright," I whispered to him.
***
"Ritt, you're gonna be fine, Ville's gonna be fine. You'll get through this," Kaite told me. Kaite, Jordan, Bam, Twiggy, Kari, Anita, my parents, my brother, and Ville's brother, Jesse, were still waiting out in the hall. I continued to pace, not caring that I had been in the same skin-tight, camouflage cargo pants, black grommet belt, and Jimi Hendrix t-shirt for almost three days.
A male doctor stepped out of Ville's room and I looked up at him.
"Can I see him? How's he doing?!" I questioned.
"He's still unconscious, but he's alive...at the moment," the doctor mumbled. A wave of anger washed over me. I knew he was telling the truth, but lying would have made me at least hope. And his tone was pretty snotty. Wrapping my fingers around the young man's scrawny neck, I pushed him into a wall, pinning him. This guy was over six feet tall and I could pin him with my left hand. Tightening my grip on his throat, I leaned in towards the doctor.
"He's gonna live," I growled through clenched teeth. I pushed the doctor to the wall opposite, making sure he hit it hard, before entering Ville's room.
"Not even death can get between Ritt and her Willa Walo," Kaite said.
Giving myself some privacy, I closed and locked the door. Ville was lying on his back, an oxygen mask on his face and several IVs in his arms. I fell apart.
Ville's jacket had been violently thrown over the back of a chair, like an old doll nobody wants. Sitting down in the chair, I draped the jacket around my shoulders. Instantly, I was bathed in the scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke: the glorious scent of Ville. I was calmed as I could almost feel Ville's wiry arms wrap around my body.
"What have I done?" I whispered. Tears came to my eyes as I wrapped my fingers around one of Ville's cold, limp hands. The doctors had told me the bullet had pierced his back, ricocheted off his shoulder-blade, and grazed his left lung, narrowly missing Ville's heart.
"Only you could luck out like that, Valo." I smiled weakly as I squeezed his hand gently.
***
Bam's P.O.V.:
"So, how's he doing?" Kaite asked Ritt as Kaite, Jordan, and I walked into Ville's hospital room. Everyone else was back at Hotel Valo. Ritt was sitting in a chair beside Ville's bed. Her legs were pulled up to her chest and Ville's leather jacket was draped around her shoulders. Her eyeliner was running down her tear-streaked face. She saw us and stood up, excusing herself for a cigarette.
"This is killing her more than it is him," Jordan said. Kaite and I nodded in agreement.
"She doesn't want to admit it, but she's definitely expecting the worst," Kaite said.
"Have you watched her? She's been drinking like, two twelve packs of beer a day," Jordan said.
"She's gonna kill herself. Alcohol poisoning," Kaite mumbled.
"I'm more worried about Damian and the twins. I'm not gonna let them lose both parents at once," I stated.
Still Bam's P.O.V.:
Impatiently, I drummed my fingers on the glass of Ville's hospital room window. Looking into the parking lot twelve floors below, I watched Ritt continuously finish new brewskis.
Jordan was sitting in the chair next to Ville's bed, scribbling away in her notebook. Kaite stood over my shoulder, watching her best friend slowly kill herself with alcohol.
We heard a loud, sharp intake of breath and then a cough. The three of us looked up. Ville sat up against the pillows of his hospital bed, looking around the room, half-asleep. We all smiled.
"What's up, 'Sleeping Bitchy'?" Kaite asked.
"I haven't begun to bitch yet," Ville yawned.
"You will soon enough," Jordan told him.
"Your woman was crying her eyes out," Kaite said.
"Speaking of my woman, where is she?" Ville questioned.
"She's in the-" I began as I looked out the window. "She's gone!"
"Is Twiggy's car still here?" Kaite asked. I scanned the parking lot for Twiggy's car.
"He must've driven her home."
"Twiggy can't take of a hamster, let alone a drunk woman. Oh god. She thinks Ville's still out, too!" Kaite said. She turned to Ville. "Come on! We have to get going! Get dressed! Fix your hair! Change your underwear!"
Ville, feeling a bit rushed, got out of bed and began to search for his pants.
***
Normal P.O.V.:
"Hell, I'm fucked if I do, I'm fucked if I don't. Fuck," I said, gulping from a beer bottle, surprised I was still conscious.
My thoughts were cloudy and I just wanted to shoot up some morphine. I waved the pistol around loosely in my hand.
Gazing at the moon, I got a great view from the roof of the house. That's where I was, sitting on the roof. Since Ville and I had a large bay window in our room, I could easily climb onto the roof.
I did it a lot when we first bought the house. For some reason, sitting on the roof and stargazing calmed me down and made time pass easier and faster.
My fingers were resting on the trigger of the pistol. At any given moment, I could just say, 'Fuck it all' and blow my brains out.
"Face it, I have nothing to live for," I sighed. Bam's hummer pulled into the driveway.
"That must only mean bad news," I cried. Holding the gun to my head, I closed my eyes, my grip tightening on the trigger.
Bang! I thought. Did I want to do this?! It was either the quick - and - easy gun to the head, or the time-consuming yet dramatic slitting - of - the - wrists.
Or maybe even an overdose. But overdoses don't always work.
I wanted an efficient solution to my lifelong problem: I wasn't meant to love or be loved. Every time I grew close to someone, I would either be stabbed in the back or they would leave. Permanently or temporarily, they would most likely leave.
'Cause I'm a loser, I thought.
Looking down at the hummer again, I saw three people get out of it.
"Bam, Kaite, and Jordan," I sighed, "coming to tell me that my life is over and Ville's dead." Tears ran down my face and I closed my eyes. Little had I known, a fourth person had gotten out of the hummer as well...
***
Ville's P.O.V.:
My heart pounding against my ribcage, I sprinted up to our room.
"If I'm lucky, I'm not too late," I told myself. Coming to our bedroom door, I pushed it open without hesitation. The bay window was open. A cool June evening breeze caused the translucent curtains to sway gracefully.
Did she decide to break her neck? What did Brittany do? Throw herself out of the window? That didn't sound like Brittany, she always took the quickest and easiest way out of everything. It wouldn't be in her nature to make herself withstand so much pain and suffering.
Leaning on the sill of the window, I held my head in my hands. Where was she?!
"She's gone," I whispered. I realized the emptiness in my voice.
"She's gone," I repeated louder. "But if she's gone, where did she go?"
"Jonna's been gone, thanks to yours truly. Where have you been for, oh, the past five years?"
"Where are you?" I asked. She laughed.
"On the roof, numb - nuts - that - I - completely - adore." Brittany was sitting on the roof, her knees bent out in front of her body.
In her right hand was a bottle of beer; in her left, a shiny silver pistol. She was wearing a baggy white boy-beater, sweatpants, and her beanie pressed down a head of shaggy, untidy hair. Dark circles were under her eyes from lack of sleep.
"So, how the hell are ya, Valo?" she asked. She slid down the roof, entering out bedroom through the window.
"Well, they said I'll be short of breathe for the next couple of weeks and I'll get some chest pains occasionally, but other than that, I'm fine."
"I thought I would never see you again, alive," she told me. "But then again you are Ville fucking Valo."
***
Normal P.O.V.:
"Are you ready for the Ville?! Ville asked playfully. Ville was sitting up, pushed deep inside me so that every thrust from him hit that special spot and forced a heavy moan from between my lips.
"Hell yeah, I'm ready for Ville!" I exclaimed. Currently, Ville was wearing a cowboy hat. Rodeo-style, baby. It was the first time we were able to be together, alone, in our own house. I grabbed the cowboy hat off of Ville's head and placed it on mine before kissing him. Unfortunately, we had left our bedroom door unlocked.
"Ville? Ritt? You in he-AHHHHHHHHHH!" Kaite yelled as she, Bam, and Jordan walked into our room without warning.
"AHHHHHHHH!" Ville and I yelled as we scrambled for coverage. Ville fell off the bed, covering himself up with the cowboy hat.
"Gross! I saw the crack of Ville Valo's ass when Ville Valo mounted his bitch!" Bam laughed.
"If you were doin'-it, you could've at least told us," Jordan said.
"You should've knocked! I mean, the room belongs to Ville and myself. If the door's closed, you should've known that things were going 'bump' in the night!" I replied.
"So, what made you two decide on the rodeo?" Bam asked.
"Because I finally found the perfect pair of cowboy boots and we wanted to take them for a test ride!" Ville answered.
***
Fast Forward a Few Days (June 2009):
"I can't believe you!"
"It was one time, Ville! Once!"
"It's just so wrong! You're passed out in the middle of the fucking living room with that damn syringe in your hand! That's setting an example for the kids, it's a waste of money that could be put to good use, and, more importantly, it's killing you!" Ville screamed.
"I tried to quit! I tried to stop, Ville! It's not like I can just get rid of the damn syringe and stop on a dime!" I yelled back.
"Listen to me. Britt, do you want me to trust you?" Ville asked, being the more mature of the two of us and using a calm, but firm tone.
"Of course, I do," I replied.
"Go to rehab. Get off of morphine. Otherwise, I don't think we'll be together much longer," Ville told me.
It pissed me off how easily he thought I could just stop my abuse of morphine. So I started yelling again.
"Get this through your fucking thick head: I can't just drop it! You don't know what I'm going through! Morphine is not like cigarettes where you get a craving! With morphine you get withdrawals and you just want them to stop because they're irritating and because you know it's wrong."
By now, I had tears running down my face. I was stuttering, too. "I-I have t-tried and t-tried to st-stop. And what I don't get is that you still don't understand even though I've told you dozens of times how hard it is!"
"I understand how hard it is. But you can't let the withdrawals get the best of you. I know you can stop using morphine!" Ville said.
Damian was sitting in the kitchen with the twins, trying to shield them from the conflict and tension that was going on between their parents. He grabbed them and we heard him run upstairs.
Jordan, Jeff, Ashley, Jessica, Twiggy, Jared, and Haley were in their rooms, trying to avoid becoming part of the argument.
"YOU KNOW WHAT? FUCK YOU, VILLE VALO! FUCK YOU FOR BEING STUPID! FUCK YOU FOR CARING! AND FUCK YOU FOR EVER LOVING ME!" I shouted at the top of my lungs before running into the downstairs bathroom.
My heart was breaking and tears continued to run down my face, having no intention of stopping any time soon. I needed a dose of morphine, the intoxicated euphoria it brought would help fix my mental wounds.
I locked the bathroom door and dug through a drawer until I found my syringe.
"My only friend is a drug," I told myself. "My only friend is nothing but a deadly addiction." Loading the syringe with morphine, I injected the dose into my right forearm before passing out on the cold tile floor of the bathroom.
***
Ville's P.O.V.:(F.F. About Five Hours)
When she had gone into the bathroom, I knew that she was going to satisfy the horrid monster that was her craving. A monster that was destroying her whole life and tearing us apart.
A terrified Damian and two traumatized twins were in the back seat of Haley's SUV, their most treasured belongings in the trunk. Haley, Damian, Ry, Ty, and I were currently going to the airport. Damian, the twins and I had to catch a red eye flight to Helsinki.
That's right. I was going back to Finland. Twiggy, Haley, and Jordan had helped me call a lawyer to file for a divorce. They all protested, but I found it to be for the better. The lawyer had e-mailed us some divorce papers, which I had printed out, stapled, and signed.
All that needed to be done would be for Brittany to sign the papers, and then the divorce would be official.
Haley parked in front of the airport. She gazed at me with big, sad brown eyes as I began to get out of the SUV.
"Valo, you get on that plane and you'll be making the biggest mistake of your life," she told me. Damian grabbed the twins and shouldered a couple bags while I pulled out our four plane tickets and grabbed the rest of the bags before turning to face Haley.
"I'm not the first one to, tonight," I told her. She didn't reply.
On the plane, it was the four of us and a couple other people. Before take-off, I called my father, telling him that I would be coming back to Finland. He seemed pretty upset that Brittany wouldn't be his daughter-in-law anymore; the two got along real well.
Also, he told me that I wasn't the smartest parson for leaving her. He would meet me at the airport the next day to drive the four of us to my old apartment.
Our conversation was interrupted by a flight attendant, who told me to turn off my cell phone for take-off.
The take-off was horrible. I tried to comfort the twins and myself at the same time. Ry and Ty were going insane. I just wished that Britt had stopped using morphine, for if she had I wouldn't be on this flight right now.
Normal P.O.V. (The Next Day)
After waking up, I left the bathroom and went into the kitchen. Twiggy, Haley, and Jordan sat at the table silently. They sat, staring at the stapled stack of papers in the center of the table. The three looked up when I entered the kitchen.
"Where's Ville and everybody else?" I asked, confused. The house was never this quiet.
"Jared, Ashley, Jeff, and Jess are up in their rooms," Haley muttered.
"And Ville's gone, all because you had to go and be the fuck-up you are," Twiggy hissed. "Took your kids, too."
I knew I was in dangerous territory if I had Twiggy mad at me.
"Dan, please, don't make it any worse than it already is!" Jordan shouted. "It'll be bad enough when she knows the whole story!"
"OK. Sorry, Ritt," Twiggy apologized. I asked about the stapled stack of papers. "Divorce papers. Valo called a lawyer last night. He thinks it's for the better." Reading the divorce papers, my jaw dropped in horror when I saw Ville's signature on the papers. "He, Damian, and the twins took a red eye to Finland early this morning."
With a trembling hand, I quickly signed the papers, slamming them down on the table and unleashed a new batch of tears.
"How could you?!" Twiggy asked. "This fucking house is being torn apart!"
"If Ville thought it was for the better," I sighed.
"That's it, Ritt. Show him that you can be an independent woman," Haley said, jumping up. "Be a rebellious bitch! Repeat after me: I don't care what they think!"
"I don't care what they think," I mumbled.
"I don't care what they say!"
"I don't care what they say."
"What do they know about this love anyway?!"
"OK, 'Melissa Etheridge', calm down before you give Ritt ideas," Jordan said. She turned to me. "This is what you do: go to rehab, get off of morphine permanently, and impress Valo with a complete bad-ass Ritt. Make him come crawling back to you. Get him to beg for you to accept him again."
"I like Jordan's plan better than Haley's," Twiggy added.
Ville's P.O.V.:(Fast Forward A Day):
Within two days of being back in Helsinki, my old apartment had been completely changed. The two, once - empty bedrooms were now decorated, one shared by the twins, the other was Damian's.
My parents helped me fill the refrigerator and make the apartment homier. Damian wanted to get a job to help his younger siblings have a normal life, so he asked my father for a job at the shop. My dad politely declined because...well, it's an adult shop.
I guess Jonna had heard about the divorce, which wasn't that hard considering the divorce was on the front page of tabloids all across Finland, the article probably consisting of '99.921345657547574% lies', as Britt would say.
Jonna called me soon after I had arrived in Finland, asking if I would like to bring our relationship back into the picture. Since Damian and the twins needed a mother, for the time being, I chose to invite Jonna over for dinner. Right now, she was packing up her belongings so she could move in. Fast love, huh?
It was after dinner, which was a pasta Damian and I made and I amazingly didn't burn it, and the twins were in the living room, watching a Finnish show. They were giggling, thinking the television characters were speaking complete gibberish.
I decided to check on Damian, who was isolating himself from society in his room. He sat on his bed, composing rhythms on his guitar and writing them down. I sat down next to him on his bed.
"What's up, 'Damian! At the Disco'?'" I asked.
"Nothing."
"How do you like it here in Finland?"
"It's...OK. How about you?"
"Just a little...depressed. I miss your mother."
"I miss her, too. I miss the way she used to be before she went on tour for two years. I wish that she could've taken me with her, like if I went, I feel that she would've stayed that way, you know? All of that isolation must've gotten to her head. Sometimes, I wish that she wasn't famous. Life would be so much easier then. But she's been in a band since 1992. I don't see her changing her lifestyle anytime soon," Damian said.
He looked over at me. "But if she wasn't famous, she never would've met you, Ville. And you're the closest to a dad I've ever had. You understand me."
"I'm glad you feel that way," I told him, smiling.
He smiled back, looking a lot like his mother. "Even if she wasn't famous, I would've gone and found her. She just loves people in this special way and each relationship she has with someone in the family is always different. And I just love everything about her."
"I do, too, but I hate the way she handles tough situations. Like she handles loneliness with drugs and cigarettes and stupid, empty sex."
Damian, I realized, was a really intelligent kid, but not to a point where it got irritating. He was smart and mature enough to carry on a conversation, yet he wasn't a complete nerd or bookworm.
"But, most of the time, she makes the right choice. You do know that, right?" Damian nodded.
"But with morphine, she made the biggest mistake of her life and it cost her everything. I know I shouldn't, after all of the lies she's told me and her affair with Jussi, but I love her. She's like an angel," I said. I was surprised to see a tear roll down Damian's cheek.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I cry, when angels deserve to die."
(Still Ville's P.O.V.)F.F. to the Next Day:
Damian and I were in his bedroom again, talking. Father and son talking. He was laying on his bed and I was in his beanbag chair. Both of us were staring up at the ceiling.
"Will Jonna be my step-mother?" Damian asked.
"Hmm, yes and no. Yes because your mother and myself aren't married anymore. And no because Jonna doesn't wish to adopt you and the twins as her step-children. I only became your step-father because I let you take my name and I adopted you as my own child," I answered.
"I like calling you 'Dad' better than 'Step-Dad', though."
"You can call me 'Ville' if you want," I told him.
"Nah, 'Dad' sounds better."
"But I'll never replace your biological father. Remember that." There was silence. I suppose he was evaluating the conversation.
"Is there any way you can help her?" Damian questioned.
"Your mother?"
"Yeah. Is there any way you can help her? I don't want her to be a drug addict for the rest of her life."
"I've helped her as much as I could. I've provided support and I've listened to her. The rest, which is staying away from the drug and staying at rehab, is in her hands. It's all up to her so I can't promise you anything."
"But you do feel bad, right?"
"Of course I do. I feel guilty that I just can't take away all of the drugs and help her stay off of them." Jonna walked into the room, well, more like strutted. She sat down in my lap.
"I gave the twins their baths, love," she told me. I nodded. Jonna and I were getting married in early July, around the third. Which only gave me about a week left as a solitary man.
Normal P.O.V. (F.F. Another Day):
I had been at the rehab center for three days. Yep, morphine free for three long, stress-filled days. The worst withdrawal symptoms were finally decreasing in intensity. No longer did I get incredible muscle spasms, but I was still kept awake all night.
When it came to song-writing, my skills improved a lot. Since I couldn't sleep at night, I had a lot of time to write and I had a bunch of stuff to write about. At rehab, my pen flowed across paper like water would in a stream. Writer's block was rarely encountered.
Having nothing better to do, I would start to compose rhythms for the new songs. It really helped to pass the time.
F.F. About Two Days (June 29th):
Pacing around my living quarters that was provided at rehab, I let real world melt away and tried to make my thoughts reality.
There was a knock on my door, causing me to look up. One of the center's employees walked into my living quarters, a bouquet of white roses in one hand and a phone in the other.
"Phone for you, hun," she told me, handing me the roses and the telephone. I held the phone to my ear, curious about who would call me.
"Hello?" I greeted, sitting on my small bed and staring straight ahead at a white wall. Rehab was pretty much an insane asylum, with its white walls and obnoxious nurses that acted like you were going to kill yourself with anything you could get your hands on.
"Brittany?" Ville greeted.
"Yeah?" I asked, playing my cool and acting like I could care less that he was gone.
"I was just checking up on you. Jordan told me that you haven't used morphine since rehab."
"Mhmm. How are the kids and how that hell are you?" I asked.
"The twins learned how to say 'bitch' in Finnish, so now they're calling everything a bitch. Tyler told me that, 'cereal's a bitch'. It's not like they know what they're saying though. And Damian's completely miserable. He really misses you."
"July fifteenth is the day Jordan and Twiggy are signing me out of rehab."
"Jonna and I are getting married on the third," Ville sighed. My heart fell to my feet and I mentally screamed. Tears formed in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
"Yeah? Well, I'm getting married, too."
"To who, love?"
"T-to," I stuttered. "To Twiggy!"
"Uh...wow," Ville said, surprised. Twiggy had been one of his closest friends.
"Yep. Around October," I lied. Pff, getting married to Twiggy?! Twiggy couldn't commit to a 'friendship club' back in high school, when they thought he was obsessive compulsive, let alone a marriage. "So, whyja send the flowers?"
"There's a note that came with them. It'll explain why," Ville told me, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. "Goodbye."
Without my reply, he hung up and I found the note within the bouquet of roses. It read:
My Dearest Darling Brittany,
I'm sorry I left you without warning, when I could've stayed with you and provided more support. I wish I could help you stay off of morphine. Until you are drug-free, I wish to not be with you. Never thought I'd see the day that I didn't crave you. Please know that I lie awake at night, thinking about you, even though we are thousands of miles apart.
Until next time, my love, Ville
More tears blurred my vision, and this time, I had no intention of holding them back. I fucked up big time.
Ville's P.O.V. (That Night):
Jonna and I were in the living room, which served as our bedroom, laying down on the folded out couch that was our bed. Things would be like this until we found a house and sold the apartment. And every day, I hoped that Brittany would bolt though the door and scare Jonna away. So far, I had no such luck.
I heard a cry from the twins' room. Jonna groaned. It was well past ten, so one of them must have had a nightmare. Getting off of the couch, I hurried into the twins' bedroom, turning on the light.
I gazed over at Tyler who was fast asleep in his bed, which was pushed up against the left-hand side wall. My eyes drifted over to Rylee, who was laying on her bed on the opposite side of the room. She stared up at me with a traumatized look on her face. She clenched on to her sock monkey for dear life.
"Honey, what's wrong?" I asked her.
"Where's Mommy?" she questioned.
"Mommy's not here, Ry," I told her. Tears swelled up in her little green eyes, my eyes. I walked over to her bed, sitting down by her feet. She got out from under the covers, sat in my lap, and hugged me, crying into my chest, similar to the way her mother would.
"I miss Mommy," Rylee cried.
"Shhh, I miss her, too, Ry-Ry. We all do," I assured her. Looking over, I saw that Tyler was also awake, laying on the edge of his bed and watching Rylee and me. He held his blanket, his 'bompy', tightly and got out of bed, dragging his bompy with him as he walked over to me. Picking him up, I lifted Tyler into my lap.
Holding them both, I stood up, turned on their tiny night-light, and turned off the overhead light before laying down on Rylee's bed. The twins laid on their stomachs next to each other on my chest. I reassuringly rubbed their backs.
"Daddy, can you sing?" they asked. I nodded. I thought of the first song that came to mind.
"Lay beside me, tell me what they've done,
speak the words I wanna hear, to make my demons run.
The door is locked now, but it's open if you're true,
if you can understand the me,
then I can understand the you," I sang to the twins. "Lay beside me, under wicked sky,
the black of day, dark of night, we share this paralyze. The door cracks open, but there's no sun shining through. No, there's no sun shining through, no, there's no sun shining...
What I've felt, what I've known, turn the pages, turn the stone, behind the door, should I open it for you?
What I've felt, what I've known, sick and tired, I stand alone.
Could you be there, 'cause I'm the one who waits for you, or are you unforgiven, too?"
Rylee and Tyler were fast asleep on my chest, their breathing and my breathing in unison. The gentle sound of my own children's synchronized breathing seemed to calm me and I feel into a deep sleep.
(Still Ville's P.O.V.) An Hour Before Ville and Jonna's Wedding:
"Ville, you ready yet?" Gas asked me. He, Mige, Linde, and Burton came into the back room of the church that Jonna had insisted upon renting out. The four were already in their tuxes and I was sitting on a bench wearing jeans, a black Led Zeppelin t-shirt, my 'Your Pretty Face is Going to Hell' jacket, my trademark black beanie, and a black scarf around my neck with a lit cigarette in my left hand.
"I'm not ready yet. And I don't think I ever will be," I sighed, taking a sip from the beer in my right hand.
"You've been sipping on beer all day long. If you don't sober up in an hour, Jonna will probably leave your drunk ass at the altar," Mige told me.
"Oh, *tear*," I said sarcastically. I placed my finger at the corner of my right eye and dragged it down my cheek, as if I was flicking away a tear.
"Valo, why are you getting married to Jonna? You know you still love Relta," Burton said.
"Yeah, but it's the fact that she's a Relta again that makes me stop and think: does she still love me? She's getting remarried already!"
"Pff, right. And Hell froze over last night," Damian laughed. Damian was sitting on another bench opposite me, his acoustic laid across his lap.
"Wow. That's news to me," I joked. "And by the way, you, Ry and Ty will be staying with her as soon as she gets out of rehab. She's doing really well and, according to Jordan and Haley, she's recovering pretty fast. She said Twiggy and Jordan were signing her out on the fifteenth."
"How does Ritt feel about you marrying Jonna?" Burton questioned.
"I don't really think she cares," I answered. "She told me that she has a lot of inspiration for music and she's focused on recording their new album. She has a recording schedule of 9 AM to 5 PM. And she and the rest of the band have been getting together since the divorce to work on the new album. And Bam told me that I wouldn't recognize the new music. I guess my 'Poison Girl' is now a complete bad-ass and holds a grudge against me."
The Wedding:
The music started and I fidgeted. Couldn't this be done and over with? It seemed like the music played for an hour before anyone was actually seen coming down the aisle.
The lyrics to Metallica's 'The Unforgiven 2', the song I had sung to the twins, came to mind. She loves me not, she loves me still, but she'll never love again seemed to play over and over again in my head, reminding me of Brittany.
I remembered all that we had been through; we shared tattoos, scars, even blood. Just the thought of her blood pulsing through my own veins seemed to turn me on. Why was I getting married to Jonna? I felt so stupid. I had only left Brittany because I had felt so guilty, because I could not help her any more than I had, and so angry, because my paradise and perfect life were crumbling before my eyes and I couldn't stop it.
"I hate weddings," I breathed. Linde, Mige, Burton, and Gas looked over at me.
"Just leave. Right now, while you still have the chance!" Gas whispered.
"Yeah, if you go through with this marriage and when, not if, when you and Jonna divorce, Jonna will get half of everything you have," Mige told me.
"Yeah, I know. You're supposed to split the assets in half after a divorce is settled," I answered.
"Right. And since Ritt took half of your stuff, the only thing Jonna will have left to take is the jeans that were on your ASSet an hour ago," Mige snickered.
"I would leave if I could, but I can't!" I insisted.
"And why not, Ville? Return to your significant other and sweep her off her feet!" Burton whispered.
"That's the thing! She won't take me back," I hissed.
"Sometimes Ritt needs to be alone so she can clear her head. I'm sorry if love has blinded you so that you haven't noticed that before, but it's true," Gas said.
"This isn't a fairytale! It won't work!" I protested.
"Well, it's worth a try!" Burton said, shrugging. While the five of us were arguing, Jonna had been walking up the aisle. She stepped up next to me on the altar. She smiled and I flashed a fake one back.
The judge began the vows. My eyes glazed over. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I've been through this before, lady, now hurry up, I thought. Regardless of how loud I mentally screamed at her, the judge still took her sweet old time. I'm gonna die if you don't hurry up...God, I need a cigarette, badly! Duh duh duh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh BATMAN! BATMAN! Duh duh duh duh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh SEXY FLYING PENGUIN! Hey, judge-lady, every second you waste with your boring speech, a sexy flying penguin is sodomized!
I guess the judge didn't care too much about sexy flying penguins.
Oh, I'm calling animal cruelty on you, bub. They're gonna tell the President and you won't get any presents from Santa. Haha. No presents for old judge-lady. God, I hang around with Twiggy too much.
"Ville, stop grinning," Mige whispered, trying not to laugh out loud; I suppose I had a giant, goofy grin across my face. I tried not to laugh, but it was so hard! Randomly, I burst out laughing, doubling over in the middle of the vows. Everyone gazed at me like I belonged in an insane asylum. The judge-lady glared at me as I caught my breath and straightened back up.
"Continue, please," I gasped.
"In sickness and in health, do you, Jonna Nygren, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" Old Judge-Lady questioned.
"I do," Jonna replied, grinning at me as if she thought she finally won me back from Brittany. I clenched my teeth, trying to suppress giggles. The judge turned to me and her words were like an annoying buzzing in my ear until...
"...and do you, Ville Valo, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" she asked. Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at Mige, Gas, Burton, and Linde. 'No!' they all mouthed.
"I..." I paused. "I...I do."
Normal P.O.V. (July 20th):
It was nine-thirty at night and Jordan, Twiggy, Kaite, Ashley, and I were at a gig in Philly, Pennsylvania.
Within the first week it had been released, our new album, 'We Put the 'FUN' in Funeral', had sold over half a million copies.
We were on our last song of the night. And it was probably one of our best songs ever.
-
Ville's P.O.V.:
Cradling the twins in my arms, I pushed through a crowd to get to the front, close to the stage. Rylee and Tyler squealed with excitement when they saw all of the people jumping up and down with the music, which was kept by Kaite and her drums. The twins watched all the fans raise their hands to give the band the horns and the twins copied them.
"You finally left, The room spins,
like you said you would,
and I need to kill the pain.
Give me some morphine,
Inject straight into my veins.
Trying to regain my balance,
I lean back onto a wall of our empty bedroom,
sighing heavily and allowing the pain relief to gradually circulate through tout my system.
but here I stand,
lazy eyed and jaw dropped.
This intense high will haunt me for months,
because I swear I saw something..
But I guess it was no more than
"A DREADFUL ILLUSION! A DREADFUL ILLUSION!" the fans sang to her.
She continued the song, her eyes searching the audience. They froze on the twins and me and I felt as if I was in the spotlight. She gave me a small smile and I smiled back. Reaching into her back pocket, she pulled out a slip of paper and held it between her fingers.
I embraced every word she said, storing it in my mind forever. Running, she jumped off of the stage, landing in the hands of strangers and body surfing.
When she passed by me, she forced the slip of paper into my hands and then continued to sing, floating among the fans. Taking a look at the paper, I realized that it was a backstage pass.
After the show, I met Brittany backstage. She embraced me tightly, obviously not wanting to let go.
"I missed you, too, love. But I need to be able to breathe," I told her. She released me. "So, I see that the band's been doing well."
"Yeah. Rehab really inspired me to pull my life, our life, together. And then I wake up to realize you're not next to me, and then it occurs to me: we don't have a life anymore," she said.
"Where's Damian? He said he already had a backstage pass." I tried to change the subject, tried to forget the guilt that she was increasing because we both knew I had married Jonna. I had made the second biggest mistake of my life by marrying her.
"Yeah. Damian has all access to every gig. He's backstage with Jordan, Kaite, and Ashley." I hugged her again.
"Haley, Jeff, Jess, Ashley, and Jared moved out of Hotel Valo, they thought it was too crowded..." she began.
"What are you gonna do with all that extra space?" I asked.
"Two new roommates! Rory Hawthorn and Hannah Conner. An art director and a tattoo artist. Valo, do you know how rad that is?!" I rolled my eyes. "You can have Hannah give you a tattoo while Rory fixes up the house!"
"Whoo. Anything else new?"
"Uh, yeah. Ashley's leaving the band. And I'm the new guitarist," she answered.
Twiggy walked up to Brittany and I remembered how she had told me that she and Twiggy were getting married.
Grabbing Brittany's arm, I pulled her away from Twiggy until he was out of earshot.
"Are you and Twiggy still getting married?" I whispered.
"Of course not! It was all an unsuccessful act to get you jealous. Twiggy didn't know anything about it, either," she laughed.
"But watch this..." Brittany strutted over to Twiggy, pressed her lips to his, and jammed her tongue into his open mouth. Twiggy pulled away, spitting and cursing.
"ZOMBIE FLESH EATERS DO NOT LIKE PLAYING TONSIL HOCKEY WITH HELSINKI VAMPIRES!" he shouted.
"Aw, Twiggy, where's your loyalty to the band? Members are supposed to bond like that!" she joked.
Normal P.O.V. (F.F. to September 10th):
Rylee and Tyler sat in my lap, battling for my attention.
"I'M THE FAVORITE!" Rylee shouted.
"No, I'M the favorite!" Tyler insisted. Damian, Twiggy, the twins, Jordan, Rory, Hannah, and I were sitting at the kitchen table. Damian rolled his eyes, Rory scribbled drawings on some paper, Hannah was giving Jordan a tattoo of Salad Fingers on her left forearm, and Twiggy was watching rather closely. I shook my head in disbelief.
"I'M the favorite!"
"I AM!"
"NO, ME!"
"NUH UH, ME!" The two of them looked up at me.
"Mommy, who's the favorite?" they asked.
"Right now?" They nodded. "Damian is." The twins stopped arguing.
"I'm gonna sue you for emotionally beating me!" Damian randomly shouted.
"You have fun with that." I stood up and went over to the phone, dialing Kaite's cell phone number. It rung a couple times before it was picked up by Bam.
"Jeremy Fisher! Get Kaite and Novak! We're going to Helsinki!" I shouted into the mouthpiece.
"Why?" Bam, Damian, Jordan, Twiggy, Rory, and Hannah asked in unison.
"Not you guys! Me, Kaite, Bam, and Novakaine," I said. Twiggy, Rory, Hannah, Jordan, and Damian went back to doing whatever they were doing. "I feel like scaring away a certain Finnish woman. So I think I will!"
"Fine. We'll go," Bam agreed.
"I'll get the tickets and we'll leave by tomorrow."
-
Ville's P.O.V. (F.F. 2 Days):
Staring up at the ceiling, I lay awake on the couch. Thoughts ran so quickly through my head that they made no sense at all. Jonna was fast asleep next to me.
She rolled over, placing her hand on my thigh. I moved away from her. She seemed to follow. I moved some more; so did she. I kept moving until I fell off the side of the folded-out couch, landing with a thud! on the floor.
Getting up, I went over and sat in the recliner. Jonna stopped moving when she reached the edge and she went back to the middle. I sighed and shook my head.
Why didn't I say 'I don't'?! I thought. Oh, right. Old Judge Lady was too busy RAPING MY EARS. I could've stayed silent and she would've still pronounced us 'husband and wife'. Haha. She doesn't get any presents from Santa. Too bad, Judge-Lady.
Closing my eyes, I passed out in the recliner.
Normal P.O.V.:
"I missed Helsinki. We should've stayed here," I thought aloud as Bam, Kaite, Novak, and I walked down the street, towards Ville's Helsinki apartment. I rolled the spare apartment key in my fingers.
"Why did you have to bring an amp to Finland?" Novak grunted, trying not to drop my Marshall amplifier. I shrugged, my red Fender Strat slung across my back.
"Why would I want to smash and ruin my favorite guitar over Jonna's head and get a lawsuit, when I could just annoy the hell out of her with my favorite guitar?" I asked. Novak frowned.
We entered the front doors of the apartment building and went inside the nearest elevator, riding up a couple floors.
Unlocking the door to Ville's apartment, Kaite and I stuck to the walls, holding up an index finger and a thumb, like spies. Bam and Novak shook their heads as they walked inside like normal people, even though they were not too normal themselves.
Ville was asleep, curled up in a ball on the recliner, while Jonna snored away in the middle of the folded-out couch.
Plugging in the amplifier, I sat down in the recliner, Ville's head in my lap and my electric guitar in my hands. Kaite and Bam held my amp above Jonna, hovering by her ear. Taking my ear, i played the intro to 'Wings of a Butterfly', which Linde had taught me a few years ago.
Jonna bolted up, hitting her head on the amp. Ville sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and smiling broadly when he saw me. Jonna glared.
"What are you doing to him?" she hissed.
"This," I replied, grabbing Ville's head and pressing his lips to mine, hard. His tongue stroked my bottom lip and I eagerly opened my mouth, deepening the kiss and Ville caressed my face. Jonna's mouth hung agape when we pulled away.
"Are you aware that Ville and I are married now?" Jonna inquired, holding out her left hand and showing off her ring.
"Are you not aware that I know this? I always thought that the 'J' on his finger was for me. Doesn't the 'J' stand for 'Jackass'?" I asked, pretending to be ignorant.
"No! It stands for 'Jon-" she began.
"JON?! As in my father, Jon?" I interrupted. I looked at Ville. "I never knew you had those type of feelings for my daddy."
"It stands for 'Jonna', you twit! As in Jonna Nygren! Well, now it's Jonna Valo!" Jonna snapped.
"Seizure!" I randomly shouted, letting myself fall off of the recliner and onto the ground. I twitched uncontrollably, purposely making it seem like I was having a series of muscle spasms. Ville laughed and so did Novak, Bam, and Kaite. Jonna continued to shoot daggers at me with her eyes.
"Aw, is Jonna mad because I'm so damn awesome?" I asked in a mock-baby tone.
Jonna got off of the foldout couch, stomping out of the room. She returned a few minutes later fully-clothed with all of her belongings jammed into several suitcases, some stuff hanging out of the suitcases.
She piled up her suitcases by the door, cursing under her breath as she did, until every single thing that belonged to her was in a pile in front of the door.
Flipping open her cell phone, she dialed a number, spoke angry Finnish into the mouthpiece, and hung up. Then, she walked over to Ville and me and smacked our heads together, hard, before also smacking us both across the face.
"HEY! NO ONE TOUCHES MY BITCH!" we shouted in unison.
"This marriage is OFF, Ville Hermanni Valo!" Jonna screamed. She yanked the gold wedding band off of her left ring finger and threw it at Ville.
"YAY!" I exclaimed, jumping up and down. Jonna smacked me once more across the face before turning on her heels, grabbing an armful of her stuff, and walking out the door.
I turned to Ville and hugged him tightly, burying my face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around my wiry frame.
"How the hell have ya been, Valo?" I whispered.
"Miserable without you, love," he answered.
"Get a room!" Novak groaned. Kaite hit him on the back of the head to shut him up.
"Shuddap, Nudie Novak the Nudist. They're bonding after like, four months," Kaite said.
Slipping out of Ville's arms, I began to walk around the small apartment. It had changed a lot since March 2006. I remembered how my water broke and Ville had a panic attack because the twins would be brought into the world soon after that.
I ventured into the twins' room. It was pretty similar to what they had at home, except at home, they had separate rooms.
Coming up behind me, Ville rested his chin on the top of my head and wrapped his arms around me again.
"You did a great job with the kids, love. I'm proud of you," I told him.
"Because I'm just that damn good," he sighed. Again, I slipped out of his arms, going into Damian's room.
His acoustic guitar was laid across his large beanbag chair. Damian's bed was untidy, as though someone had just gotten out of it. Other than that, the rest of the room was spotless.
"How can someone be a neat freak, but not make their bed?" Ville thought aloud.
"Ge gets it from me," I said. On Damian's desk sat his video camera, which he loved. Beside it laid a little homemade video. Popping it into Damian's camera, I watched the video.
Damian, who was holding the camera, seemed to be peering through a large crack in the doorway of the twins' bedroom. The tiny night-light was on, faintly illuminating the room.
On Rylee's bed laid Ville, the twins laying on his chest. He rubbed their backs soothingly while singing Metallica's 'The Unforgiven 2'.
"Damian got that on tape?" Ville asked as he watched the video over my shoulder.
"I remember when you used to say that you were a horrible father and now I have proof that you aren't. I bet you never dreamed that you would be lulling them to sleep."
"I didn't know that's what I was doing at the time. Rylee woke up crying, so I just tried to calm her down. And Tyler, well, you know the twins. He wanted to get some attention, too, so he climbed up on the bed," Ville said. "I just can't believe you came back! Damian told me you went all bad-ass."
I laid down on Rylee's bed, staring up at the ceiling.
"I didn't think you wanted me back," I replied. Ville laid down next to me, one arm rested across my stomach.
"Why are Bammy, KK, and Novak here?" Ville questioned.
"Oh, right. I declared that we're going on vacation tomorrow."
"Wow. Thank you for telling me ahead of time, sweetheart," he said, sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Ville rolled over, sitting on my stomach, and began kissing my neck.
"Oh, Ville. Not now. Not on Ry's bed."
"There's a floor," he said. I frowned. He grinned. "What about the dining room table?"
"Now, the dining room table I'll think about," I laughed.
"So, where are we going on vacation?"
"We were thinking about Hawaii, but Bam and Kaite got the tickets, so ya never know."
***
FF. Two Days:
Impatiently, I drummed my fingers on a hard surface. I couldn't tell what it was, though. Since we left Finland, Ville and I had been blindfolded. Right now, he sat in the aisle seat next to me, holding my hand while our arms were handcuffed to our shared armrest. We had been on the plane for an insanely long time, so I knew that we were going somewhere far away from Finland. I heard Bam and Kaite murmuring behind us and I was able to pick up some of the conversation.
"So, we'll meet them in Mexico and pick up the boat there, right?" Kaite confirmed.
"Exactly," Bam replied. I considered all of the options. A fishing trip? No, Kaite hated fishing, thank god. What would you need a boat for?
"I hope it's not another episode of Viva La Bam," I muttered. Maybe it was a cruise? Yeah, that sounds right. But who were we meeting in Mexico?
"I hate flying," Ville said.
"At least you don't have a window seat. Not that you'd be able to see out it anyways. Window seats are scary."
-
FF. Another Day:
I woke up next to Ville on a bed in a bright, cherry room. The walls were wooden and pretty much all the furniture in the room was wooden. Bam, Kaite, or Novak must have slipped something in our drinks on the plane. Ville still was asleep. Getting off the bed, I wrapped a blanket around my frame and inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of the ocean.
Leaving the room, I walked down an elegant, well-lit hallway. At the end of the hall were some stairs that led up to the deck above. We were on a ship.
I walked up the stairs. The ship was what you would imagine a pirate ship to look like, only cleaner and brighter. The sky was a dull blue and it was early in the morning. A long collapsible table stood a couple feet away from me, covered with bowls of snacks, a spilled deck of cards, and spilt food. A cooler, most likely filled with beer, rum, whiskey, and wine, sat under the table, the figures of two people lying beside it. Squinting, I tried to see who it was, but no use.
Approaching the table, I got down on my hands and knees to look. Jukka and Jarppi had passed out by the cooler. I smiled.
"So you are the ones we had to meet in Mexico," I whispered. I got back up to my feet and looked over the edge of the boat, leaning on the wooden side of the boat. Waves gently crashed on the side of the boat.
A hand was placed on my shoulder, causing me to jump in surprise and nearly fall off of the boat. I spun around. Ville stood in front of me.
"Isn't this nice?" I asked, turning around and leaning on the side of the boat.
"Mhmmm," Ville agreed, wrapping his arms around me and resting his chin on the top of my head as we both stared out at the sparkling ocean.
"Wille Walo and Witt Wetla are awake," Bam announced as he, Kaite, Novak, Phil, and April walked up the stairs.
"Hey, 'Mom'!" I greeted, hugging Ape.
"Hey, sweetie! Phil and I haven't seen you and Ville since your wedding reception!" Ape exclaimed, embracing Ville and me tightly. "It's been three years! How are the twins doing?"
Reaching into Ville's back pocket, I pulled out his wallet. In his wallet were pictures of Rylee, Tyler, and Damian. I showed Ape and Phil a wallet-sized family photo. It was the most recent picture. Ape's jaw dropped when she saw the twins.
"They've grown a lot. Damian, too," Phil commented.
"They're adorable!" Ape gave Ville the picture back and he put it back in his pocket.
"Well, Bam-Bam, how long are we on this ship?" I asked.
"About a week," Bam replied.
"I wanna go swimming," I sighed, going back to our room to change into a black bikini top and a pair of Ville's plain black swimming trunks.
When I returned, Bam and Kaite had changed, too, Kaite into a dark blue bikini and Bam into a pair of black and red swimming trunks.
"Hey, Ritt. I'll give you fifty bucks to jump off of that top sail," Bam dared me. I looked up at the sail. It was about forty feet above the ship, giving me about seventy feet to free-fall into the water.
"You know I'm afraid of heights," I said.
"And what if she misses? I don't want to watch her splatter on the ship's deck," Ville told Bam.
"Fine. Ville can jump with you," Bam grinned.
"No!" we shouted in unison, waking up Jukka and Jarppi.
"Seriously, do I get fifty bucks if I jump?" I asked. Bam nodded, holding up a crisp fifty dollar bill. Again, I looked up at the top sail, my heart racing at just the thought of jumping.
"I'll do it," I stated. Using the pegs that stuck out of the sides of the ship's main mast, I climbed up to the top sail, being tormented by Novak and the Dudesons the whole way up.
"Don't slip!" Jarppi intimidated. My foot slipped on a peg, but I held on tight and continued to climb.
"Ritt, don't worry! It'll only hurt for a few seconds!" Novak teased.
Looking down, my fear of heights caused adrenaline to race through my veins. I saw Ville punch Novak. Slipping off my low black and white Converse, I let them fall to the ship's deck forty feet below me.
Shakily, I stood up on the top pole of the highest sail, standing on the end of the pole. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and jumped off of the sail. I waited for a splat!, imagining I would crash-land on the deck, but instead, I hit the water. I was pushed underwater, water forcing itself in my mouth and up my nose, filling my lungs.
Swimming to the surface, I coughed up mouthfuls of water, hanging on to a rope ladder Bam had thrown over the edge of the boat.
"Sweetheart, are you alright?" Ville asked, concerned about me coughing up water. I nodded.
"It's your turn to jump, now!" I laughed. Ville shook his head. "C'mon!"
Sighing, Ville pulled off his jeans, shirt, socks, and Converse, revealing a pair of dark blue boxer shorts. He jumped over the edge of the ship, landing beside me.
"KK and Bammy's turn!" we chorused. Next came Novak, jumping into the water naked, followed by Bam, Kaite, and then Jukka.
"You are all insane!" Ape shouted. "Ritt could've just gotten herself killed and Jukka just jumped in fully clothed!"
A Week Later...
"You're PREGNANT?! AGAIN?!" my father shouted.
Ville, Kaite, Bam, Ape, Phil, Novak, Jukka, Jarppi, and I had returned from Mexico. Ville and I were at my parents' house to pick up the kids.
"You're spittin' out another one?!" my grandmother asked, joining the rest of my parents and I in the living room.
"Maybe-" I began. My dad stood up, his teeth clenched.
"Where is that kid?! I'M GONNA KILL HIM!" he threatened Ville.
"Don't even think of hurting him. It doesn't matter. There's nothing you can change about it," I replied.
"Yes! Get an abortion!" my grandmother shouted.
"Wow. That's a bit hostile, isn't it?" my mother asked her.
"Yes it is! I'd never get an abortion! That's heartless!" I protested.
"What's with all the negativity?" Seth asked as he, Tyler, and Ville walked into the living room. My dad pointed an accusing finger at Ville.
"Hey! I never said that I was positive I was pregnant again, I said there was a possibility," I told my father. He ignored me.
"He got your sister knocked up AGAIN!" my dad yelled.
"So? Ritt and Valo have the money to support another kid," Tyler said.
"It's not the money I'm worried about, it's the responsibility! She's not exactly the brightest bulb in the bunch!" my dad answered.
I frowned.
"You're mother and I didn't want any kids in the first place and now there's three of you! We wanted to be D.I.N.K.s."
"Uh, D.I.N.K.s?" Seth asked.
"Double Income, No Kids," my parents said in unison.
"You two are odd," I sighed. "Where are my kids?"
"They're downstairs," Tyler told me.
Ville and I went downstairs into the basement, which was really the spare floor. A couple years ago, before I met Ville or Bam, the basement was my bedroom. It still was pretty similar to a bedroom, but with less of my old stuff in it. My old stuff had been sold for a couple thousand dollars.
Damian was sitting on the California king-sized bed, his guitar in his lap. He quietly played so as not to wake the sleeping twins at his feet. Damian looked up when Ville and I walked downstairs, his lips curling into a smile.
"C'mon, ya brat, we're going home," I smiled, scooping a sleeping Tyler into my arms. Ville picked up Rylee and we each shouldered a matching duffel bag. Damian grabbed his backpack, placed his acoustic in its case, shouldered the case, and followed Ville and me up the stairs.
I gave my parents a 'see-ya-later' embrace while Ville walked over to my dad. He glared at him as Ville held out a hand for a farewell handshake.
"I'm taking you off of my will," my father told him.
"Jonna, he was never on your will," I reminded my dad, long nicknamed 'Jonna'.
"Well, now he's negative one chance of getting on it." I smiled and rolled my eyes.
"Who is on your will anyway?" Tyler asked.
"Your mother," Dad answered.
"What happened to me, Ritt, and Ty?" Seth questioned.
"You three had kids," said Dad.
"Whatever," I sighed as Damian, the twins, Ville, and I went out to the hummer. Ville and Damian placed all the bags in the trunk as I buckled the twins into their car-seats. Damian sat in between the twins and Ville rode shotgun.
Ville hungrily stared the wheel as I sat in the driver's seat.
"You look like you've never seen a steering wheel before. You wanna drive?" I asked, bringing him out of his stare.
"I can't. I don't have a license," he replied, looking at me.
"We're like ten minutes from the house. It's not like you'll have to make any dramatic turns or anything," I laughed, handing him the keys and switching seats with him.
"We're gonna die," Damian thought aloud.
"Wow. Thank you for having so much faith in me, Damian," Ville said sarcastically.
"Your welcome!" Damian exclaimed. Shakily, Ville started the hummer and then looked at me for direction.
"Put it in drive, and lightly pressed the gas," I instructed.
"The right pedal?" he asked. I nodded. Slowly, we moved down the long driveway. We came to the end of the driveway and Ville kept going.
"Brake! Brake! Brake!" I shouted. He slammed on the brake and we lurched forward in our seats. "Look to see if any cars are coming and turn on your blinker." There were no cars coming, so we turned left.
About five minutes later, we were halfway home and I noticed Ville's blinker was still on.
"Blinker's on," I said and he again slammed on the brakes, as if we were going to slam into a tree. "You can turn it off without slamming on the brakes. And you can stop by pressing lightly on the brakes."
A couple minutes later, we approached our own long driveway, which Ville smoothly turned in to.
"Brake," I said as we came closer and closer to the front porch. He lightly pressed down on the brakes but the Hummer still moved forward slowly. "Harder than that."
He finally stopped inches from the porch. "Put it in reverse. And please be careful."
Slowly, Ville backed up. Gradually, we drew closer and closer to Hannah's silver minivan.
"Ville. Ville, brake! Hannah's car! Hannah's car!" I warned. The hummer backed into Hannah's van, sending us again lurching forward. The crash set off Hannah's car alarm, which instantly woke up the twins. Rylee and Tyler screamed.
"FUCK!" I shouted, jumping out of the passenger's seat.
"Aw! Daddy! Mommy just sweared!" the twins yelled in unison.
"Shh, I know," Ville assured them. I looked at the back of the Hummer. The front of the minivan was crushed, shortening the car by almost a foot. The Hummer's rear bumper was latched on the front of the van.
"YOU DIRTY -" I began, about to shout some grand obscenity, before remembering that the twins were like parrots.
The car alarm caused Hannah, Rory, Jordan, and Twiggy to come out of the house. Hannah's jaw dropped. She fished her keys out of her pocket, turning off the alarm.
"Hannah, I'm so sorry!" I apologized.
"I love you!" Hannah exclaimed, suddenly jumping around. I arched an eyebrow. "I HATED that car!"
"What are you gonna tell the insurance company?" Rory asked, taking a closer look at the damage.
"I hit a dog," Hannah said.
"A dog?! More like hit a moose!" Jordan laughed. Ville walked over to us, a twin in each arm.
"Who hit a moose?" he asked.
"Hannah did," Twiggy told him.
"Oh, sorry about that, Hannah," Ville said.
F.F. A Couple Days...
Sighing heavily, I sat on the hood of my beat-up candy apple red 2006 Hummer H3, watching Rory clean out his shabby red 1992 Volkswagen Fox.
"Why do you still have that car?" I asked. "You've had that since before high school."
"Hey, I first got laid in this car. This car is a lucky charm," Rory replied, taking a vacuum cleaner to the floor of the car.
"Oh, yeah. It's a real lucky car, if lucky means 'sucky'. Remember when I had to call a tow-truck when we broke down in the middle of the damn highway in hundred ass-hole degree weather?"
I rolled my eyes when Rory just grinned.
"Good times, Ritt. Good times," he simply laughed. I stood up as he opened the trunk and began to sift through it.
"Got enough shit back here?" I asked, picking up a garbage bag full of dirty clothes.
"This car was my house at one point in time," Rory answered, not directly answering my question.
In the trunk, there was an ancient 100 watt Malibu amp, a broken set of speakers, old food, CDs that were snapped in half, rented games and movies that were never returned, empty cans and bottles, a motorcycle helmet, dirty blankets, cigarette butts, a lot of dirt, dirty movies, and an old sketchbook full of ideas. I picked up the helmet.
"Do you think I should wear that when I drive?" Rory questioned.
"Now that you think about it, I think you should. Twiggy and Valo need to wear helmets, too," I said. "Why are you cleaning out this car anyways?"
"I'm selling it to get a new one."
"For ten bucks, I'll help you clean it out."
"Deal." Rory and I shook hands to seal the deal. "You start in the front and I'll clean out the trunk."
Using the vacuum cleaner, I cleaned up ashes, tiny pebbles, dirt, dry mud, and an assortment of other crap. There were dozens of cigarette burns in the front seats and I found almost five dollars in change under the seats.
"Uh...ew. You have melted Skittles all over your car," I groaned. Rory handed me a pocket knife so I could cut them off of the seats.
"Life is nothing without Skittles," Rory sighed. He went back to the trunk, disappearing under a pile of junk.
"Whoa! That's my registration! And that one chick's number! I thought I lost those!" I heard him exclaim, his voice muffled by the stuff. Shaking my head in disbelief, I continued to dig under the driver's seat, pulling out some cigarettes.
"Full cigarettes?" I asked, straightening the smokes out.
"I lose them all the time," Rory said, his head randomly popping out from beneath some clothes, scaring me and causing me to drop the cigarettes. I picked them up and handed them to Rory, who stuck all three in his mouth and lit them. "I love ya, kid."
"I bet you do," I sighed.
"Wow. Someone's depressed. Is it because you're pregnant? Wait. Are you pregnant?! I shouldn't be smoking around you!" He let the cigarettes go out.
"No, I'm not pregnant, thank god," I said. "It's Ville. He's all depressed because he never got to see the twins grow up and, since there's not gonna be a new baby, he thinks he won't be able to see another child grow up."
"He should be happy. When I got Liz pregnant, I wanted to kill myself." Liz was Rory's ex-wife who took Rory's daughter, Kaleigh, and left about two years ago.
"But you do miss Kaleigh, right?"
"Of course I do. I haven't seen her since she was three and I'll probably never see her again."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. Kaleigh should wonder who I am someday, as long as Liz doesn't feed her any bullshit about me." There was a silence and Rory relit he cigarettes. "Well, better get back to cleaning."
"There's a washing machine in the house," I said, folding up all of Rory's dirty clothes. "You know, that giant white box? You put soap in it? It's Haley's job Monday through Wednesday?" Rory shrugged.
"I'm lazy." He placed bottles of various scented colognes and deodorants on the back seat after digging them out of the trunk.
"My car may not be clean, but you can always smell good while you're riding in it."
A Couple Days Later...
Quietly, I snuck into Jordan's room.
My duffle bag made small rustling sounds as I moved but that was the only noise besides Jordan's loud breathing.
Standing beside her bed, I clamped my hand tightly over her mouth. She jolted awake.
"RITT! YOU IDIOT! WHAT THE SCHMUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" Her voice was muffled by my hand.
"I'm kidnapping you and Twiggy. Now get up and pack," I told her.
"For how long?" she yawned, too tired to argue.
"About a month."
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"I have no friggin' clue," I sighed. "But get packed and dressed while I get Twiggy."
Leaving Jordan's room on the second floor, I went up the stairs to the third floor. Walking into Twiggy's room, I woke him up. He threw a couple outfits in a backpack and followed my downstairs.
Jordan met us in the living room and we walked out to the driveway, jumping in my silver Lamborghini murcielago.
Twiggy fell asleep in the small backseat while Jordan passed out in the passenger's seat
-
Ville's P.O.V. (The Next Morning):
Opening my eyes, I store up at the ceiling. Brittany was not lying next to me in bed. Rolling over, I found a note on her pillow.
Valo, don't worry, nothing tragic happened or anything. I just decided to disappear for a couple weeks. Jordan and Twiggy came along. My parents are expecting the twins for the rest of the month, so you can relax. Should be back by New Years, Ritt
I crumpled up the note in my fist and sat on the edge of my side of the bed, holding my head in my hands and wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.
Why did she do things like this to me? Did she enjoy messing with my head?
Not that I liked admitting it one bit, but it was sort of obvious that Ritt had points in her life where she wasn't loyal.
And not to mention that she does whatever the fuck she wants, whenever the fuck she wants to do it. Jordan and Twiggy wouldn't be able to stop her from doing something stupid if she wanted to do that stupid something.
Stressing out, I ran a hand through my curly, medium-length hair.
"She will come back. She's not gone forever," I assured myself. Standing up, I began to anxiously pace around our bedroom.
"Bam's. Castle Bam. I'll go visit Bammi and Katie-lyn. At least I'll be able to stay sane there while Britt roams the country," I thought aloud, taking my cell phone off of the bedside table, flipping it open and dialing Bam's number.
-
Normal P.O.V. (F.F. A Day):
"How about that one?" Jordan suggested.
"Are you kidding?! That looks like a dumpster with windows and shutters!" Twiggy told her. The three of us were in Ohio, searching for the future Hotel Valo. The current Hotel Valo was too big for people who were usually on tour and rarely home. And plus, Hotel Valo was stalked by paparazzi and too close to my parents' house.
When the three of us weren't looking for a new house, we were bar-hopping.
"Why don't we just search for a house in Finland?" I asked. "Then, the twins will be able to know their other grandparents better and maybe the band could be promoted more?"
"Fine. We'll live in your Finlandish country," Twiggy said.
"See? Now was that so difficult? Now, we just need the Internet, a Finnish real estate site, and a lot of Euros," Jordan said.
Ville's P.O.V.:
My head was spinning. I didn't know if it was from the booze or the lack of love I usually received every day. I felt rejected, depressed.
It seemed like only yesterday that Brittany, Jordan, and Twiggy left, even though it was actually three weeks ago.
I was doubting that they'd actually return. Every time Kaite assured me that they'd be back and to not worry about it, I began to grow more and more negative.
I was alone in the Pirate Bar, polishing off an unlimited amount of brewskis. Since the day she left, I had been staying at Castle Bam. It was nine thirty at night in early January 2010. She had lied. She wasn't back by New Year's. And I spent Christmas solitary, locked up in my guest room at Castle Bam.
"Yo! Ville Valo!" I looked up. Don Vito walked down the stairs, a beer in his hand. He sat beside me. Bam had put me on 'suicide-watch' since I had arrived. I couldn't even go to the bathroom alone because the first night I was here, I had taken some unnecessary aspirin. And on New Year's, I had tried to hang myself. But hanging yourself is a little hard if you're six feet tall and your feet still touch the floor. Plus, Novak had walked into the room before I even grew light-headed.
"Bam wanted t'know ifya killed yerself yet," Vito said.
"Not yet," I sighed. "But I'll be taking a long shower tomorrow morning, so watch out. I might drown myself."
"Whya so'pset 'bout Ritt?" Vito asked.
"I love her, Vito."
"She's gots nice breasts." Any other time, I would have been offended by his comment. I just smiled.
"Don't you think I would know this?" I said. "I was married to her for almost four years. Four insanely weird years. I used to think I knew everything about her. Now, I feel like I don't know her at all. Marriage is just one big promise that you'll be with one person for the rest of your life and she can't stick to commitments. She doesn't like to be confined."
"She'sa crazee bitch!" Vito told me.
"Yeah. But I love my crazy bitch," I said. "I just wish she would love me as much as I love her."
"Of course she does, Ville. Ritt just expresses her feelings differently than you," Kaite yawned, joining us in the Pirate Bar.
"If she loves me so much, then why is she gone?" I asked.
"Knowing Ritt, she's just doing something that she's been wanting to do for a while. Tasks that she never got around to doing," Kaite continued. "Can ya think of anything Ritt's been planning on taking care of?"
I thought.
"She said she wanted us to be remarried. She's ready for a lifelong commitment," I answered, coming up with the only thing that I could think of at the moment.
"Well, Valo, ya might wanna get some sleep. You, me, and Bam are flying to Finlandia tomorrow afternoon. We'll be there for a few days so pack all of your stuff."
-
Normal P.O.V. (F.F. Three Days):
Jordan, Twiggy, and I sat in a hotel lobby, surfing the Internet and going to random websites on three separate computers. Even though we were all right next to each other, we were talking to each other in a private chat-room.
Milford Cubicle: (Jordan) Twiggeh's MM icon is so xcore
Rittxcore724: (me) not as xcore as this addicting game
Milford Cubicle: game?
Twiggyxopiate: is it addicting like drugsss?
Rittxcore724: close, but no cigar Cursor Thief Amped
Twiggyxopiate: true. kickassful game.
"Kickassful is my word!" I told Twiggy.
"No! It's mine!" he argued. Twiggy stole 'kickassful' when I randomly said it one day.
Rittxcore724: I'm getting a copyright for 'kickassful'
Twiggyxopiate: not if i does first!
Milford Cubicle: it's too late to argue
Rittxcore724: it's my word anywaysss
Twiggyxopiate: MINE.
Rittxcore724 is away
Twiggyxopiate: twiggy's word!
Rittxcore724's away message: Never argue with an idiot. They will bring you down to their level and beat you with experience.
We closed the chat-room and logged off of AIM.
"Well, that was fun," Jordan sighed. My cell phone beeped with a text message. I flipped it open to read the text message. It was from Kaite and it read:
we r rite outside of the hotl. dont let vv c u!
"Well, they're here," I sighed. Jordan, Twiggy, and I put on matching sunglasses and held up open newspapers in front of our faces, like in the movies, as Kaite and Bam walked inside the hotel lobby to sign in. Kaite saw us and smiled.
Ville walked in the lobby a few seconds after Bam and Kaite, a trio of duffle bags on his shoulders and sleeping twins in his arms. He was handed a separate room key.
The five went up to their rooms and I replied to Kaite's text message:
wut is hiz R#?
Five minutes later, I received an answer from Kaite:
suite 760
Closing my cell phone, I told Jordan and Twiggy to go to suite 760 in about half an hour.
Jordan's P.O.V. (Thirty Minutes Later...):
Twiggy and I went up to Ville's suite, suite 760, taking our time. We seemed to kick, hit, run into, or just knock on EVERY door we passed, even closet doors. It was fun waking up and annoying so many people at one in the morning.
We approached the door of suite 760. Twiggy ran into it, falling back-wards after hitting it at full speed.
-
Ville's P.O.V.:
There was a loud crash on the door, causing me to be jolted awake. As if my week hadn't sucked enough. Yawning, I got out of bed.
At least the twins are still asleep, I thought as I walked over to the door, opening it. Jordan and Twiggy stood in the doorway, broad grins across their faces.
"We came to wipe out your mini bar," Twiggy told me.
"If you two are here, then that must also mean that-" I began.
"She's down in the lobby, waiting to be pounced on," Jordan interrupted.
Wearing only a black 'Rolling Stones' wife-beater and a pair of Nightmare Before Christmas boxer shorts, I ran down the hall, into an elevator, down six floors, and into the lobby.
Brittany stood in the lobby, looking out a window, wearing an AC-DC shirt, baggy jeans, and my old woolly black beanie, and black and white Converse. The beanie covered her eyes, so she had to tilt her head back-wards to see. A cigarette dangled from her lips and I tackled her from behind as she stubbed it out in an ashtray.
"Guess who?" I asked, clapping my hands over her eyes and sitting on her back.
"The Easter Bunny?" she joked.
"Close, but no cigar," I replied.
"A hot Finnish rock-star?" Brittany laughed. I got off her, stood up, and helped her to her feet. "What a grand entrance, my barefoot friend."
"So, you started smoking again?" I asked, trying to start up a conversation.
She nodded.
"Why did you run away?"
She sighed.
"To take care of things that I wouldn't normally be able to take care of with you around, no offense," Brittany answered. There was a brief pause. "Do you want to talk about this over a walk?"
"Sure. Let me get some pants and some shoes," I said, going back to my room, Brittany following.
"Hehe, you have feet," she laughed.
"I do?" I joked.
"Yep."
"Are you sure?" I asked, stopping without warning her, causing her to walk into me. I looked down at my feet. "Wow. I guess I do!"
"Aw, Valo. They're such purty white feets," she giggled as we came to my room. We walked inside.
I pulled on a pair of pajama pants and my shoes.
The twins were asleep, next to each other in the middle of the king-sized bed.
Jordan and Twiggy were watching a Finnish soap opera and laughing at it. Why they were laughing? The world may never know. Because they laugh at American soap operas, too.
"We'll be gone for a couple hours, so don't freak out," Brittany told the two, not like they were listening.
Normal P.O.V.:
"You don't know how long you made me wait. I thought you'd never come back," Ville told me. I cleared my head of all thoughts, focusing on our conversation and keeping my balance. Holding my arms out, I slowly walked on a short stone wall about eight inches off of the ground.
"What made you think that?" I asked.
"You left, without explaining anything."
"So? You need to stop blaming yourself for my actions. You can yell at me. That's part of being married," I said.
"No. I don't want to yell or fight. I'm not violent like that. And plus, we're still not remarried," he answered. I stopped walking on the wall and I turned, looking at Ville. He followed suit, gazing back at me.
"Do you want to get remarried?" I asked. Without hesitation, a giant grin spread across Ville's face.
"Hell yeah."
"Then it's settled." I held up my arms like a scale. "Big wedding, or little wedding?"
"A little wedding, in a rented private church," Ville replied.
There was a silence and I continued to walk on the stone wall. A sudden night time breeze caused me to wobble. I lost my balance and fell, landing in Ville's arms.
"Why, good sir, how clumsy of me!" I gasped dramatically. Ville smiled.
"My dear lady, I'd gladly catch you anytime."
Ville set me down and we continued to walk. I randomly fell back-wards into the grass, deciding to star-gaze. Ville laid beside me. Our clothes were quickly wet with dew from the long grass, but we ignored the dampness.
Laying with my head on Ville's chest, I stuck my cold hands in his coat pockets. He closed his eyes, lulled by my rhythmic breathing.
"Tell me that you love me," he whispered. I fumbled in one of his coat pockets, my fingers curling around a small, fine silver chain. Pulling the chain out of his pocket, I held it up. A delicate gold wedding band was on the chain; Ville's wedding band.
Reaching into my own pocket, I pulled out an identical chain and wedding ring. I held up the two chains in one hand. The rings softly hit together with a tiny cling and the chains intertwined in a sinuous way as a small breeze caused the chains to sway.
"I love you, Ville. And I don't need these rings to prove it," I said.
"Well, then, what's another way to prove it?" he asked.
"We have three beautiful children, a wonderful house, and fantastic lives. There's something about you that keeps me right here waiting."
Ville's P.O.V. (Two Weeks Later):
"Whya wanna get marri'd? Why don'tcha jus stay single?" Vito complained.
"I'm not going to call off my wedding to please you, Vito," I told him. Phil, Bam, Don Vito, my father, Kari, Rory, Twiggy, Brittany's father, Jon, and I were in a formal Helsinki shop for bridal wear and tuxedos. Brittany, Kaite, Jordan, Hannah, April, Britt's mother (Kristi), and my mother, Anita, were in a different bridal shop on the other side of the city.
"Walo! You need a new top hat, 'cause I said!" Bam exclaimed, forcing a black top hat on my head.
Jon stared blankly off into space.
"Feel like a wirgin?" Bam asked him. He looked up.
"First time in Finn-land," Twiggy said.
"Like a wirgin, Jon, like a wirgin," I laughed.
-
Normal P.O.V.:
"Do I have to wear this?!" I asked, holding up a white strapless dress. The dress was made of silky white material and the bottom was decorated with a metallic silver design.
"Yes," Kaite said.
"But why?" I whined.
"Because I said so," Kaite insisted. "You're getting your hair and make-up done for this thing, too."
"Piss-uh-muh-fucking brilliant," I sighed. "Bet you that Ville's having more fun than me right now."
"That's 'cause he's with Bam, Twiggy, and Rory. We just get Jordunnn," Kaite joked. Jordan gasped dramatically.
"Mrs. Margera, my little black raisin heart just shrunk another size!" Jordan replied. April, Mom, Anita, and Hannah walked into the dressing room.
"Ville's waiting outside, dear," Anita told me. I pulled on my baggy jeans and Element hoody. My mother paid for the dress and the seven of us left the bridal store. Bam was on Twiggy's back, laughing like an idiot. Ville stood there, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Look, Mom! I'm riding the little guy!" Bam told April. Because of Twiggy's short height, Bam often referred to him as 'the little guy'.
"Lemme take a picture," Jordan grinned, flipping open her flip-phone and taking a snapshot. I walked over to Ville, who had a new top hat on his head. Leaning my head on his chest, I looked up at him. He looked down at me, smiled, and took the top hat off his head, setting it on mine. The brim of the top hat fell over my eyes and we both laughed.
"Kris, I need a new jacket. This one's too small," my dad told my mom.
"Fat man in a little coat!" we all sang to him.
Ville's P.O.V.:
Smiling, I glanced down at the warm body in my arms. The body that I loved. The body that had put up with me for over six years. Brittany and I sat on the folded - out couch in the living room of my Helsinki apartment. It was eleven - thirty at night in early March 2010.
Today, the twins turned four years old. Right now, they were in their shared bedroom. Damian was also in his bedroom. Bam, Kaite, Jordan, and Twiggy had gone bar - hopping around Helsinki.
The two of us sat on the couch, pens and notepads at the ready and a table lamp on. We were watching 'Corpse Bride' and taking notes.
"We should have a Tim Burton wedding," she said, putting on her glasses and a look of concentration.
"I agree."
I laughed.
"You look so sophisticated, sweetheart."
"Our first wedding we had to recite our vows off of the top of our fuckin' heads."
"Really?" I arched an eyebrow. "I wrote a speech and rehearsed with Ape."
"Well...you cheated, then." Britt's face turned a pale pink.
"I just don't want our wedding to be like, stereotypical wedding. We're having it in a church and that's it. The rest has to be unordinary. It's in my nature to do something outrageous, or at least..not of normal nature."
"Of course. You're involved. It's automatically outrageous."
"Not really. Our last wedding was completely cliché!"
There was a brief silence.
"Can we have the Red Hot Chili Peppers play at our reception?!"
"That was so random. I think I'm speechless this time," I said.
"So can we!?" she begged.
"I'll think about it." She punched the air in triumph.
"Yessssssss," she breathed. She loved the Chili Peppers. Telling her 'no' would be like telling Twiggy to be quiet it a library. It wouldn't go down too well.
"CAN WE GET A NEW HOUSE, TOO? HUH? HUH? PLEASE?! TWIGGY, JORDUNNN, AND I HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR ONE!"
"What'll we do with the old 'Hotel Valo'?" I asked.
"Ashley, Haley, Jared, Jeff, Jessica, my brother, Tyler, and Hannah are trying to find a house. And you KNOW none of them would want to live in all separate houses," Britt said. "We could give those peeps the old Hotel Valo and find a new Castle Valo."
"Yeah, those peeps can get lonely. I think we need a smaller house anyways," I replied, deciding to just agree with her.
"Awesome!" she squeaked, opening her laptop and going to some real estate sites. We heard the squeak of the door opening and we looked up. Rylee walked out of her bedroom, dragging her beloved sock - monkey with her.
"Hey, Beebs," Britt greeted Ry with her newly adopted nickname, smiling as she picked up the tired toddler and set her in her lap. 'Beebs' buried her face in Brittany's black CKY hoodie and tightly wrapped her arms around her mother's waist. While Ry was Beebs, Ty was Bean.
"Mommy, I can't sleep. Damian's guitar is too loud," Ry told her. By the sparkle that was in her eyes, I could tell Ry was lying and just wanted some attention.
"Should I beat him up for you?" Britt grinned. Ry nodded, wearing the same evil grin.
Standing up with Beebs in her arms, Britt barged into Damian's room, unannounced. I followed her.
"Damianaaaaaa! Tone down the guitar, por favor!" Brittany said in a singsong voice. She set Beebs down and tackled Damian, hugging him. He was twice her size, but he still listened.
"Mom, I'm not even playing my guitar! What are you doing?" he asked, his cell phone held up to his ear.
"Your sister told me to beat you up," she whispered. "But, shhh! You're not supposed to know!"
She sat up.
"By the way, what are you doing?"
"Talking to Leila," he replied. Leila was his new girlfriend, and yes, she was Finnish. They met only a couple days ago.
"She left only half an hour ago! Why do you need to talk to her every moment of the pissing day?"
Damian shrugged.
Britt turned her head, her jaw dropping at what she saw on Damian's dresser. She walked over to the dresser, plucking the dreaded item off of the dresser.
"What the HELL are you doing with this?!" she asked. "You're not even sixteen!"
She brought it closer and I could see that it was an open Trojan wrapper.
"Oh, you're in for it now." I pointed at Damian, snickering.
"I was trying to see how...to put it on right.." Damian lied, avoiding Brittany's glance.
"Don't have sex. You will get a girl pregnant and you will die. A horrible, very very painful death," she warned him.
"Yeah! Mommy will spank you!" Ry teased.
"Think about it, Britt. At least he's wrapping his Whopper," I told her, trying to lessen Damian's punishment, which would be coming soon, without a doubt. She sighed, looking up at the ceiling.
"What did I do wrong?" she asked no one in particular.
"Mom, you want the truth? I used it, OK? I'm fifteen! I know what I'm doing!" She looked at him.
"Fine. But unless you want to be grounded for a month, I suggest that you tell Leila's parents about your little..erhem, 'experiment'."
Normal P.O.V.||F.F. A Couple Months[May 2010]:
"No, Ville, put that box over there," I told him. Ville groaned as he dragged a cardboard box over by the door. Today, tomorrow, and the day after that would be devoted to packing up stuff and sending it over to the new house. Ashley, Jared, Jeff, Jessica, Kaite, Bam, Twiggy, and Jordan sat on our bed, watching Ville and I work our asses off, packing up our large collection of shit.
We had been packing for nearly five hours, yet we were barely a fourth of the way done. Currently, Ville and I were going through our bedroom closet.
Ville brought everything out of the closet and I organized everything into a junk pile, important papers pile, Ville's pile, and my pile.
An Elvis record that was snapped in half was handed to me by Ville and I put it in the junk pile. Ville snatched it from my hands.
"That's not garbage! That's a collectible vinyl record!" he said, placing the broken record in his pile. I rolled my eyes.
"Are you gonna tape it together, Valo? It's not exactly valuable unless it's in mint condition," I replied.
"Well...it could be worth a couple bucks," Ville grumbled.
"Valo, let go. You're such a pack rat," I laughed.
"Ritt, you're no better than Valo," Jordan told me. "You still have maternity clothes from when you were pregnant with the twins five years ago."
A box of maternity clothes sat in another pile, the for-sale pile. Ville pulled out a giant bra from the box and put it on his head.
"What a double-barrel slingshot," Jessica said.
"My boobs were huge when I was pregnant for the twins. Ville wanted them to stay like that forever," I smiled.
A box of Tyler's old clothes in the for-sale pile caught Jessica's attention. Jessica had given birth to a little boy, Gavin Michael Strong, back in December and was trying to get all of the baby boy clothes that she could get her hands on.
"Hey, Ritt, I'll get you ten bucks for that whole box of Tyler's old clothes," Jessica bargained.
"Deal," I replied. Jess handed me a ten dollar bill before picking up the box and leaving the room.
"Have enough CDs, Ville?" Ashley asked as Ville filled a seventh box of CDs. He had at least a thousand. I got off of my hands and knees and stood up.
"Ville, I'm going to get a drink. Just finish going through the rest of the closet, I already got all of my important stuff in my pile, just watch my clothes."
"The last time I left my clothes unattended with Twiggy in the room, Twiggy ran around the house with a pair of my underwear on his head and wearing one of my bras, screaming, "GRANNY PANTIES! GRANNY PANTIES!"
I left the room and went downstairs in the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water.
"Ritt, didja finish your guest list?" my 18 year-old cousin, Abigail, asked. Abby was taking care of renting out a church, booking the catering and music, and making the invitations. She seemed more excited than Ville and me.
"Abby, don't get so worked up about it," my parents and I told her. Abby's huge, cheesy smile dissolved off of her face.
"Are you not excited about getting married?" she questioned.
"Oh, I'm excited. It's just that it's nothing new to me. Ville and I have already been here. Now, we're going to make it past the fourth anniversary," I smiled. I felt a pair of wiry arms wrap around my waist and I turned my head to find Ville's head resting on my shoulder. He gently kissed me on the cheek.
"Four years with you sounds difficult," Abby grinned.
"We had to put with her for seventeen years. It was awful," my mother joked.
"OK. So Kari, Anita, Jess, Aunt Kris, Uncle Jon, me, Ethan, my mom and dad, Grammy, Poppy, Tyler, Seth, Jeff, Twiggy, Jordan, Ashley, Jared, Haley, Jessica, Hannah, Rory, Kaite, Bam, Mige, Linde, Manna, Gas, Burton, Phil, April, and...Don Vito," Abby finished, reading off of the guest list.
"Not Vito!" Ville and I protested. We heard the front door open and we groaned. Phil, Ape, Jess, and Don Vito walked into the kitchen.
"Yo!'Sa party now. Don Vito's here!" Vito exclaimed, heading for the 'fridge and helping himself.
"You're welcome, Vito," I said sarcastically.
"Ritt, I wuz there fer yer first weddin' and all yer anniversaries. Now I'll be there fer yer second weddin', too," Vito said, sitting at the dining room table with a bottle of Budweiser in hand.
"And each year was hell. Thank you, Vito," I sighed.
"Why ya wanna get married in Finland?" Vito asked.
"It's Finlandia, Vito! Why wouldn't I wanna get married is Finland?" I exclaimed, beginning to randomly dance and twirl around the kitchen.
.F. A Couple Weeks [June 2, 2010]:
Tears steadily skied down my pale cheeks and I tried to wipe them away without smudging my neatly - done make - up. My shoulder - length, dyed black hair had been trimmed a couple inches shorter and returned to its natural dark brown color, the dark brown color of Ville's own hair, the dark brown color that I hadn't had since I was pregnant with the twins.
My face hurt because my hair was so tightly pulled back into a bun. Kaite, Jordan, Haley, Hannah, and I were in a limo on the way to a private Helsinki church. All of them were wearing matching dresses. Kaite was my Maid of Honor, of course, while Haley, Hannah, and Jordan were bride's maids. Yes, Jordan was wearing a dress.
"Ritt, don't freak out," Haley told me. "You've done this before and in front of a larger crowd."
True. Our first wedding had at least a 500 - person attendance and I had to conjure up a speech of vows off of the top of my head in front of all those people.
"I'm not freaking out; I'm just...sad. Four years ago today was our first wedding."
"It's your wedding day. Forget everything...just like you do any other day," Jordan grinned. The limo pulled up to the church and the five of us got out, walking up the stone steps and going inside. We were a bit late because Burton had already started playing the "Join Me" intro on his keyboard.
Haley started down the aisle, followed by Hannah and then a crimson - faced Jordan. As Kaite started down the aisle, I linked arms with Mige, who was replacing my father - who chickened out at the last minute. Kaite stood by Jordan, Haley, and Hannah at the altar and everyone stood up, waiting for me to come down the aisle.
I froze. I couldn't do this. Everyone turned to look over their shoulder, to see what the cause of the delay was.
"Uh...Ritt, you might want to start walking down the aisle. You'll make Valo freak out," Mige whispered.
"Wait a second," I told him. I took down my hair and shook my head from side to side a couple times, letting it loose. Now, I was more comfortable. Suddenly beginning to walk, I caused Mige to stumble somewhat down the aisle for the first few feet. He tried to look formal while attempting to keep up with my brisk walking.
When we reached the altar, Mige went over to stand by the best man, Bam, and the other two ushers, Linde and Twiggy. Ville and I linked arms and turned away from the guests to face the judge. In front of us stood a 3-step staircase and, at the top of the staircase, a table on which stood three candles - one lit - and the rings. When Ville and I reached the top step, our arm link broke off and we firmly grasped each other's hands.
"We are gathered here today to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony," the judge announced.
"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine," Ville said as we both took three steps forward so that we were right in front of the table. Ville took an unlit candle and lit the end with the already lit candle. The already - lit candle stood in a high candle holder. He held up his own now - lit candle.
"With this candle, I will light your way in darkness."
He set his candle in a second candle-holder, shorter than and off to the right side of the first candle. He picked up my ring.
"With this ring, I ask you to be mine."
Ville slid the ring on my ring finger. Gulping, I held up my right hand to recite my vows.
I stumbled nervously, nearly forgetting them completely. After lighting my candle and sliding Ville's ring on his finger, we looked at each other for a quick second.
"I do," we finished in unison.
"You may now kiss the bride," the judge declared.
Reaching up, I securely wrapped my fingers around Ville's loose - fitting black necktie and pulled him down to my eye level, pressing my lips to his and wrapping my arms around his neck.
Never had I felt such fire in a kiss before. Maybe it was the relief after being together for such a while, but not being able to call Ville 'mine'. Or maybe, it was the way our lips fit together, for the technique had been performed and perfected only too many times.
Ville's P.O.V. [F.F. Another Month, July 2010]:
Rolling over, I buried my face in a pillow. Brittany and I had finally completely moved into the new Castle Valo.
I was in nothing but boxers. The air conditioner was cranked up to cool down the house. It was rarely this warm in Finland.
Trying to go back to sleep, I heard the running of water from our bathroom. Sighing, I got out of bed and stood up, walking over to the bathroom door and lightly knocking.
"Sweetheart, are you in there?" I asked.
"Yeah," the reply came through the door. Britt's voice held mixed emotions, so something must have been wrong.
"Love, do you want me to come in there?"
"Uh.." she began. I turned the doorknob and walked inside the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Brittany was laying on the tile bathroom floor, wearing a bra and a pair of baggy pajama shorts. I smiled.
"What exactly are you doing, lying on your back on the floor?"
"It's nice and cold," she said.
"Why are you up so early?" I questioned, laying down beside her.
"Uhm, Ville. I'm sort of..kinda..well.." she couldn't seem to find the words. Then, she sighed. "I'm pregnant."
"That's wonderful, darling," I told her. We had been trying since we got back together in January. There was a comfortable silence, which was considered a rare occasion now. I rested my hand on Brittany's lower abdomen, gently massaging it, knowing that a new life that the two of us conceived was currently growing inside her.
-
Normal P.O.V.[The Next Day]:
"Yay! We're going to be uncles again!" Gas exclaimed. I nodded.
"My parents are sooo gonna disown me," I sighed.
"Sweetheart, it's your life. What can they force you to do?" Ville assured me.
"I don't know. But my boobs hurt," I complained.
"Well, Ville, I thought you said there was no such thing as a fairytale ending? Doesn't this seem a bit fairy-tale-ish happy ending?" Mige asked.
"Well, at Jonna's wedding, I didn't think I'd ever be with 'RiVa' again," Ville answered.
"Happy ending?! But my boobs hurt and I gotta pee and I feel like I'm gonna puke! Wow. Isn't that sentimental? If this is your idea of a 'happy ending', Mizee, you're a sicko," I joked. I wrapped my arms around Ville's neck and he wrapped his around my waist. We were sitting on the couch in our new living room.
"Ville, let's go kill ourselves. Right now. That way we won't be able to be interrupted again," I told Ville.
"Oh, swell idea," Burton said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
"Just hang on, love. It'll all straighten out and get better," Ville replied. "Just please don't let it go."
THE END
