Round Two.
By: watermelon . drops
Chapter 1: Sober
Hands gripping her hips restrict her flow, make her feel slow and unbalanced.
She shoves them off.
There's a weight on her shoulders, literally, making her slump.
She shrugs it off.
For whatever reason she can hear the click of heels over the pounding of the music, still vibrating the room around her, and the sound begins chipping away at her beautifully prolonged buzz.
She kicks them off.
Jenni.
She smiles. . . 'cause that's her name. And it's funny because she could almost swear that sounded like Deena. She laughs before she can think better of it and all the lights, swirling and spinning and dancing, seem a little less appealing when the room around her starts swirling and spinning too. The people neighboring her drift in and out until they're nothing but colors, whirling around the spot she's managed to stay planted to. She stumbles backwards a bit, into something hard and wet and her hand is reaching around grasping at what she'll later remember to be a shirt.
"Whoa, babe, let's take it easy."
It's a whisper, hot breath across her ear, lips tracing down her neck, but it's not enough to distract her from the hands. They're back on her hips, fingering the laces up the back of her dress.
Jenni.
Her head falls back to rest against a shoulder, eyes turning to find that voice, the one that sounds so much like Deena's. When she actually sees Deena, standing there, head tilted slightly, arms folded, eyes a little wider than usual; things start to fall out from under her.
"Dee . . - Deena?"
She doesn't really like the way she sounds when she speaks; raspy, almost sick. The sounds that had abruptly disappeared come tumbling back into place and everything is suddenly so much louder than she remembered. The hands feel tighter, the shoulder less familiar. When she turns around and doesn't recognize the face, her stomach turns a little. It's then she notices she's not actually standing, but strategically seated in said stranger's lap. Her extremities refuse to work in her favor when his face continues to irritate her dinner.
"Jenni, what the hell? I've been looking for you for twenty minutes, c'mon."
Hands are gripping her arm and she starts to feel too much like a doll, being pulled back and forth between tall, dark and stranger and Deena. "We need to get you home," she says. "You don't look so hot." She hears the phrase, the one they always use when someone has gotten way too drunk, way too fast, and is starting to make a fool of themselves. . . . - it would explain why she has no recollection of stranger and how she ended up on his lap. She tries to remember the day before they got to this club, before the lights and the drinks and the music. If she could remember she could put it all together, figure out why she's acting this way. She hasn't felt this smashed since. . . .shit, who knows when. When her mind remains a slur of colors and nothing, she lets Deena pull her up. It's a little overwhelming now that she's half awake. She liked it better when she was absent.
"Jenni I cant carry you, darlin'. You're gonna have to help me out a little…. Meatball, remember?"
Her eyes try to find her friend, to see what she's so obviously trying to point out, but they keep getting distracted by the movements. The walls are following strobe lights, the floor is following the feet dancing on it…. - she's suddenly wishing one of the guys were there. The fact that they aren't makes this strange experience that much more ridiculous.
"Wher…. -where is every..- one?"
They stop stumbling for just a second, Deena lets her sink to the ground. "They're at home. Girl's night out, remember?"
"No." Jenni feels her stomach shift again and she lets herself burp. And really wishes she hadn't when the taste hits her mouth. "Not really."
"What did you drink?" Deena sounds almost exasperated, a little surprised. "You said you were stopping like an hour ago."
"I don't know," she sighs, head reeling too far to the right. "I cant remember."
"Okay." Stubby arms are pulling her back up. "We need to get you out of here."
The walk to the door isn't very memorable considering she cant think past the crazy pounding in her head, but she notices when another set of hands find her other arm, start leading her in the direction Deena is pulling. She doesn't realize they're in a taxi until they've stopped in front of….wherever….and she finally notices Sammi, tugging her out of the car door. Their voices echo in the building once they're inside. She knows because all she can hear is Deena; "Need some help down here! Helloooo?"
Heels are clacking against marble stairs and her knees are surely bleeding after the third or fourth time she falls forward into them. God, when did she get so sloppy? When was the last time she let herself get this drunk? She finally loses whatever balance she had and when she hits the stairs again she doesn't really feel like getting back up. She hears the girls chattering above her, some please get up's and Jenni we're almost there's thrown around here and there. But, honestly, she's too tired to move. And she's pretty sure that if she tries, she'll barf.
"Oh man."
She hears a new voice, a very familiar, very groggy sounding voice.
"What happened?"
And then larger, warmer hands are on her shoulders, pulling her up. Her face melts against bare chest and she recognizes the smell instantly. Good ol' Pauly.
"I don't know. We were drinking and dancing and then she disappeared. This is how I found her."
She really despises that they're talking about her like she's not there. Or rather, like she's some kind of damsel that needed rescuing. Granted she'd undoubtedly spend the night on the sidewalk if it weren't for the help of these three, she'd gladly cuddle with pavement if it meant they'd stop talking about her like that. Like she's Snooki or Deena, always sloppily falling into bed after a night out drinking or something. Everyone has too much sometimes, right? Tonight is just her night.
"How ya feelin', girl?"
The icy floor surprises her when bare ass is gently placed atop it. - Was he carrying her? "Fine."
She finally opens her eyes, gets a blurry look at his face. The concern makes her want to laugh.
"You don't look fine to me."
"Well…. -"
Well, she is, dammit. - It's what she was going to say. Right before she face planted into the toilet bowl and got rid of all that shit she ate for dinner, whatever it was. Who knows how many drinks spill out and she remembers why she hates throwing up so much. She's dry heaving when she notices his hand on her back, his other brushing through her hair. She cant make out what he's saying over the sound of her disgusting display but the sound of his voice makes her feel a little more at ease with it all. As off-putting as it is, the fact that she cant remember shit before twenty minutes ago was starting to make her a little nervous.
"Water?"
She gives a little nod, though she'd really rather him stay right there and help her not fall out on the bathroom floor. But he hasn't moved when he puts the glass in front of her face and when she turns, Ronnie is in the doorway, frowning.
She takes a sip.
"Better?" He doesn't let her answer. "So what happened?"
She takes another sip because, really, she doesn't know how to answer him. "I guess I drank too much, I don't know. Cant really remember much. Just Deena and everything after that."
"Obviously."
He doesn't sound all that happy with her answer… - well who the hell cares 'cause it's none of his business, anyway! And she was ready to tell him as much when her head started whirling in that weird little circle again. "I want to go to bed."
Pauly doesn't argue, doesn't so much as grunt, before picking her up again like that figurative doll she so imaginatively derides. She's cradling the cup to her chest and unwillingly lets her cheek fall against his chest. He's too comfortable to be so muscular. "Smoosh room."
He glances down at her, uncertain. "What?"
"I wanna sleep in the smoosh room."
He raises a brow.
"The bed's bigger."
She's being tucked under the covers before she realizes he never answered and she's grabbing his hand, pulling him back when she notices he's trying to leave. It's not that she needs someone to sleep with her. She's a big girl. She just needs the extra cushion, the extra comfort. The fact that he's been so….sweet…has nothing to do with it. The fact that she cant remember the last time she's cuddled with Pauly is at the absolute back of her mind. The fact that she's kind of missed him isn't even entered into the equation. It's nothing like that. He's just there.
"Stay."
He immediately starts shaking his head, his frown telling her just how bad of an idea he thinks it is. But that doesn't matter right now. She's tired, and drunk, and she wants him to stay. Shouldn't that justify everything in the morning? Shouldn't that make waking up with him a little easier to digest? Some unclouded part of her brain sees the anxiety in the way his eyes are narrowed, the rigid set of his body and the way he's still partially turned toward the door, like he's having to fight to say no. If she were sober, she'd have let him. That look on his face, one nobody ever sees, that strange vulnerability she's always been able to pull out of him. . . . - it should have been enough for her to know that what she's doing is wrong. That she shouldn't make him stay. That he's telling her something with the way he's looking at her. Like maybe she's hurting him somehow.
But she isn't sober.
And when he crawls in the bed, when he wraps himself around her in the dark and she feels so at ease, when she hears something that sounds a lot like Roger's voice in the other room…..she really wishes sober was something attainable.
.
a/n. - Right, so somebody had to write one eventually, right? Reality shows really aren't my thing, but I've become quite addicted to these characters. So I decided to write a little something on them. I'm gonna go ahead and warn you; this is going to be a Jenni/Pauly fic. . . Obviously. But I'm sure I'll write from other character's POV's. This takes place in Italy, all other seasons apply, but the latest episode, Mike and Ron's big shebang, we'll just say that didn't happen. Or hasn't yet, anyway. I'm not expecting much response for this considering it's in Misc. TV Shows but. . . Oh well. =)
If you're reading, hope you enjoy! Reviews complete me, btw.