You're the Only One [Max Green] That Died 02

Chapter 2

Amy groaned with resentment as red light poured through her closed eyelids. The sound of distant bird chirps marked a sign that it was now early morning. Amy rolled over sloppily in her bed, causing her body to get entwined with the mint comforter. She lunged her head deeply under the pillow causing her eyes to be engulfed in a small dark cave. She wished nothing more than to stay put in this safe sanctuary, to be rid of all her life's stress.

Of course, her small significant wish wasn't answered, and was met with a brutal turn out.

Before Amy could even take her head out from under her pillow cave, a couple of loud and impatient bangs sounded on her front door. No doubt in her mind, she knew it was going to be her friend Sara standing on the other side, tapping one foot and observing her nail beds with mild curiosity. At this point in her heavy exhaustion, Amy could care less about answering the door to let her friend enter. All she wanted to do was remain in her bed and possibly snooze the rest of her life in deep slumber.

Bang bang bang.

Amy groaned loudly this time and rubbed her face against the softness of her cotton pillow. She knew Sara wouldn't cease her banging until Amy personally went to answer the door. Slowly and unwillingly, Amy turned her direction towards the alarm clock perched on the dark night stand beside her bed. The vibrant red digital letters read 8:30 am.

"What does she want..," Amy said, her voice tired and croaky.

Amy could not configure the fact as to why Sara would possibly need her assistance this early in the morning. Even though the two were close, never had Sara barged at her door at the peak of the day. Not unless it was a drastic emergency. Amy new that it wasn't; she could tell. The reason being, Sara's bang on the door was loud, but in no way had it left any evidence of it being urgent.

Bang bang bang.

"One minute…," Amy mumbled with her lips against her drool-marked pillow.

After a while, she gave up the use of trying to fall back to sleep, and grudgingly got out of bed. She lazily swung her legs over the side of the bed followed limply by her heavy head which was now bowed down in rest. She slowly lifted it up, and set her bare feet onto the hardwood of her bedroom floor.

The sharp coldness of the floor sent shocking shivers through her pajama-wearing body. The sudden temperature around her skin caused her to gradually awaken, though she still felt the great urge to crawl back into her heavenly mattress.

As Amy took her first steps across her bedroom floor, she felt a jolt of sudden soreness and pain, causing her to grunt.

"For the love…," Amy winced, rubbing her sore hips and painfully squinting her eyes shut.

She walked more cautiously, making sure to not make any drastic movements with her seemingly-crippled body. She felt like a leper. Moving one throbbing foot in front of the other, she came to realize the reason for her unexpected ache. The concert. The words rang in her head like warning signs, causing her face to warm up with frustration. The concert. In which she experienced impatience, anger, annoyance, boredom, embarrassment and near the end…anger.

As she approached the hall in which led to the living room and small kitchen in her condominium, the bangs on the door bit by bit got louder as the distance between her and the door closed.

Bang bang bang.

"I'm coming, already…," said Amy, whispering tiredly to the rattling door.

As soon as her pale hand turned the brass knob of the wooden door, Sara barged in the room, almost knocking Amy over in the process. Before Amy could fully turn to face Sara or find her balance, Sara started talking automatically.

"Do you know how long I've been standing there? Twenty minutes!" Sarah exclaimed, answering her own rhetorical question. Her black-painted fingers lay balanced on her skinny-jeaned hips.

Amy sent her a tired glare. "It's not even 9 in the morning, Sar! What the hell are you doing here?"

Sara's perturbed look automatically transformed into a sheepish grin. Without replying she day-dreamingly smiled up at Amy's white ceiling, and crossed her hands together over her chest. To add to her ditzy moment, she walked fairly and spun in circles, guiding herself into Amy's cluttered kitchen.

"Ronnie," whispered Sara, talking as if she was consuming some sort of heroin. Her blue eyes swam with admiration and excitement. Though this did not make Amy any less aggravated.

"Ronnie?" Amy exclaimed. "That's why you're here?!"

Sara gave her a guilty grin and engulfed her in a hug. Amy stiffened at Sara's unexpected action; never had she seen her friend so…out if it.

Giving Amy one last squeeze, Sara let loose of her. Amy watched with annoyance and mild amusement as her friend danced around the tiled kitchen floor before finally pluming down on one of the high stools surrounding the table.

"Oh Amy, I couldn't stop thinking about him last night!" exclaimed Sara, resting her head on the palms of her hands. "It's like…he was imprinted into my skull, or something."

Amy raised an eyebrow at her friend. "Sar, you just met the guy last night."

Sara stood up straighter at this comment, her eyes swarming with defense and delight. "But I've known about him for so long! And the way he talked to me last night…oh Amy I couldn't stop smiling. I probably looked like such a fool."

Amy automatically put on her friendly façade. "Oh no, you looked anything but a fool last night, Sar. I saw the way the lead was looking at you," said Amy, sending a playful wink.

Sara bit her nails impulsively. Amy could see her cheeks turning a mild rose shade and her legs were bobbing up and down on the rest of the stool. "Really? He was really looking at me?"

Amy inwardly rolled her eyes. Yes, the singer had been looking at her, but not with the same reasons as Sara probably assumed Amy meant. The singer, Ronnie his name was, had looked at Sara almost hungrily, which Amy had noticed with great detest. She didn't like the fact that a random musician was studying her friend as if she were a piece of steak.

"Oh, yes." Amy replied, making her way willingly to the white refrigerator.

She hadn't eaten since yesterday morning, and at that time she had only consumed a bowl of Special K cereal. She hadn't felt like eating much before the concert yesterday; her stomach was heaving too much nervousness. But at this very moment, all her stomach pleaded for was for any food whatsoever, and Amy was quite eager to satisfy its needs.

She opened the fridge door forcefully, sticking her head into the cold atmosphere.

"You want anything?" she asked Sara, not even bothering to turn away from the multiple items stored inside the refrigerator.

"Got any juice?" asked Sara from behind the table.

Without turning around, Amy nodded swiftly while grabbing a half-empty (or half-full as the optimists would say) cartoon of Vitamin C and placing it on the granite counter beside her. She quickly dove back in the fridge and grabbed the cartoon of Skim milk while placing it symmetrically to the juice.

Amy made her way to the cupboards above the black stove, and grabbed a drinking glass and a blue bowl. She poured the liquidly orange substance into the glass and quickly set it in front of Sara's thirsty eyes.

"Thanks," Sara said shortly before dunking her mouth greedily into the glass.

Amy just shook her head and lightly chuckled as she made her way to the pantry beside the stove. When she opened the narrow wooden doors, she saw her jumbo Special K cereal box and snatched it from the middle shelf. Pouring the browned flakes and milk into her bowl, she settled herself across from Sara and slumped down on a stool.

They ate in comfortable silence for a while. Amy pondered her current situation and how she got here; her condominium on a crowded street in Chicago. Amy was currently eighteen years old, and in her remaining year in high school. Her parents were psychology professors and taught at Queen's University in Kingston. Of course, they hadn't always taught there. They used to reside in The University of Chicago, up until Amy was seventeen. That was when they found that they had been promoted to teach at one of the best universities in Canada instead. Amy of course, living in Chicago her whole life and being so immensely attached to it, refused to move. After great unwillingness, her parents finally agreed to let her stay at home. They of course told her she needed to get a job, possibly loans. She knew she would eventually be in debt, but she could care less; Chicago was her home.

So here she was, a girl of eighteen living on her own in a cluttered yet comfortable condominium, only accompanied by furniture and her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She wouldn't have it any other way. And as an addition, Sara would pop in almost regularly, just to either check up on her or to spend the night with.

Amy worked with Sara at the same music and record store; Music Land. It was convenient for Amy since it was only a few blocks from home and she could easily transport without paying for a taxi. Her pay was pretty fair, seeing as she worked numerous amounts of days during the week after school. Her and Sara had worked their since they were sixteen, and they both had found a strange comfort within the place of music.

Amy found it ironic at times though, to work in a music store when she had no regard for any form of music at all. But it was close in location and the pay wasn't half bad, so she diminished any selfish thoughts and continued to work whole-heartedly at Music Land.

And now, here she was, eating a stale breakfast with her best friend in a condominium in down town Chicago. Everything seemed in place for her, until her thoughts drifted to yesterday...

"What the fucks up your ass, sweetheart?"

Those were the words that egotistical punk had spoken. That prick, who appeared as if he owned the universe itself; the prick who appeared he was superior to all living kind; the prick who had icy depths; the prick, Max. Amy had regretted accompanying Sara to that concert; she regretted it with so much force, she knew she rather would have had a local root-canal operation without anesthesia, rather than relive that horrible moment. But she didn't need to worry; she wasn't going to see that bastard anytime soon.

She noticed with questioning eyes that Sara was fidgeting with her hands while looking intently at them. Amy raised an eyebrow at her nervous actions.

"What's wrong, Sar?" asked Amy with serene concern.

Sara shook her head, dismissing Amy's question of worry. "Nothing."

Amy snorted. "Spit it out, Trent."

Sara sighed and her blue eyes slowly traveled to Amy's dark ones, looking at her with plead.

"I invited Ronnie over."

Amy stood up so suddenly, the table shifted slightly and her stool fell limp against the kitchen floor. "You did what?"

Sara attempted at giving Amy her best smile, but when Amy's eyes clouded, the smile disappeared.

"Well…he told me to call him, to see if he was busy," explained Sara, playing with her multiple bracelets. "And so, while I was waiting for you to open the damn door this morning, I called him and asked him if he was free."

Amy crossed her arms in frustration. "Then what did you say?"

"After he told me he was free, I invited him over."

Amy's breath caught short in her throat, the room in an instant appeared smaller. "That crack head is going to be inside my house…"

Sara stood up immediately and went to Amy's side, squeezing her arm as she often did. "Don't say that, Amy. He's a nice guy."

Amy frowned unconvinced at her friend. "Can't say much for his companions."

Sara's eyes turned guilty immediately. "About that….."

Amy snatched her arm back from Sara's grip and snarled. "What are you getting at?"

"Well Omar and Robert went to see some action movie together, leaving Ronnie and the others alone….and bored."

"Go on," Amy groaned while burying her face in her hands.

"So when I invited Ronnie, he automatically asked if he could bring along Bryan and Max," explained Sara. "And you know I couldn't say no…."

"Max," Amy gasped between her palms. "In my house."

Amy instantly felt Sara's fingers on her shoulders, a sign for her to calm down. "I'm sorry Amy, if I would've known you were going to respond like this…"

Amy snapped her head up and plastered a false smile on her face. "No no, it's fine. " She straightened herself out and patted down her now wrinkled pajama top. "Just fine."

Amy received a quizzical look from Sara. "Are you…sure?"

She nodded her head perkily to Sara's response. "Yes. Because I can't be bothered by those insane humans if I'm not here."

Sara's posture straightened up at her friend's words. "What do you mean not here?"

Amy smiled with confidence and gently picked up her fallen stool that was now on the floor.

"What I mean is, when they come over, I won't be here. Simple as that."

Sara's eyes widened with realization and horror. "You…you can't leave me alone with them."

Amy raised an eyebrow slightly. "Oh? I thought you enjoyed their company."

Sara quickly put her hands up in defense. "I do! But can you imagine how awkward it would be if I'm alone in the house with three young adults?"

Amy shrugged her shoulders lightly. "That's why cable was invented."

Sara groaned and slumped her shoulders. "Amy, come on! I don't want to spend time with them by watching some reality show! And what if they get hungry? I can't cook for my life, and you know it."

Amy smiled at her friend. "There is a thing called take out."

"But I don't have any money!"

Amy's smile faltered. "Sara, stop making excuses."

Sara put her hands on her hips. "You're the one with the constant excuses!"

Amy turned her back to Sara and stared at the television set from across the room. "Oh please."

Sara sighed. "Amy, do you realize you're making them drive you out of your own house?"

Amy snapped back to look at Sara. "That's not true!"

Sara raised an accusing eyebrow at her.

Amy sighed. "I just can't stand them. I mean, I've never met any guys, or people for that matter, who are so conceited."

"You just met them yesterday," explained Sara. "Why don't you just give them a chance?"

Amy's eyes quickly darkened. "That Max doesn't need a second impression for me to figure out what kind of guy he is."

Sara looked sympathetically at her. "Okay, he is a bit of a…jerk. But come on, what about Bryan? "

The corner of Amy's lips rose. "You know, he kind of reminds me of you. He's an interesting character."

Sara grinned. "See?"

Amy sighed in defeat and shook her head. "Fine. I'll stay. But only because I don't want to feel as if they're making me leave my own home."

Sara jumped slightly into the air while clapping her hands rapidly. "Thank you!"

Amy shook her head and suppressed a grin. "Yeah, yeah."

Amy was on her way to her room when awareness crept up on her. "Sara..."

Sara looked at her friend with question. "Yeah?"

"What time are they supposed to be coming over?"

Sara's eyes widened slightly as she plunged her hand deep in her pocket to grab her phone. After she flipped it open, she looked at Amy with panic.

"Half an hour."

Amy inhaled an immense intake of oxygen. "It's only 9 o'clock!"

Sara's once excited eyes now swam with a hint of guilt and embarrassment. "I thought we were going to be ready earlier."

Amy shook her head slightly. "Don't worry about it. Just…plan ahead next time."

And with my consent, Amy thought mentally.

And with that, Amy reluctantly went back into her bedroom to get rid of the night wear she was currently attiring. She made her way briskly to her closet, and opened the doors open with force. Without fully observing the clothing in her jumbled closet, she randomly grabbed a pair of jeans and a floral white and green tank top.

When she was fully dressed, she made her way to the bathroom. She quickly splashed icy water on her face in a hurry, and brushed her teeth vigorously.

She hated rushing. Amy was always one to enjoy and savor her time, not feel as if she was in military counseling. Her stomach compressed with dread as she thought of the company she was soon going to encounter. Her head was swarmed by dismayed thoughts…dismayed thoughts of them.

After she attempted to tame her out-of-bed hair, she left the bathroom and went to join Sara who was situated on the sofa watching a repeat of Two and a Half Men. Amy slumped dramatically beside her, causing Sara to yelp in surprise and fright.

Amy chuckled victoriously.

"That wasn't amusing, Sturgis," Sara said with a frown, calling Amy by her last name.

Amy flinched at the unattractive name. "Please refrain from calling me that."

"Only if you refrain from sneaking up on me unexpectedly," retorted Sara.

Amy nodded and stuck out her hand jokingly. "Deal."

"Deal," repeated Sara, shaking Amy's outstretched hand.

Bang bang bang.

Amy's grin was suddenly wiped clean of her face as she heard the terrifying sound. "Already?"

Sara leaped off of the couch with a squeal. "Behave, please."

Amy rolled her eyes and got off the couch. "Yes, mother dear."

Sara ignored her retort and made her way hurriedly to the front door. Before she opened it, Amy saw her fixing her hair absentmindedly.

"Just answer the damn thing, your hair looks fine," said Amy with slight impatience.

Sara gave her a quick frown before unlocking the door and opening it with a satisfying click.

Amy saw Green first, wearing a usual black t-shirt with his usual black painted-on pants. His hair looked as messy as it had been the night of the concert, proving that he didn't need to act crazy in order to obtain chaotic hair. His eyes were also the same from the previous night; harsh and secretive.

Next walked in Ronnie, wearing his trade-mark narcissistic smirk. He was wearing a dark blue shirt which seemed to be ripped at various places across his torso, revealing some skin. Amy noticed this with revolt.

The Bryan guy walked in last, a childish grin plastered on the centre of his face. He was wearing a red t-shirt, and thankfully, it wasn't ripped. His presence seemed the most modest out of the rest of the group, giving Amy a feeling of slight relief.

"Glad you could make it, guys," said Sara, her eyes dancing with life.

Ronnie walked directly in front of her and gave her a twisted grin. "It was our pleasure."

Sara's usual pale face splattered deeply with a rose shade. Amy resisted the urge to groan with reluctance.

"Yeah, we were dead back on the bus," replied Bryan. "Max was almost starting a conversation with his cereal bowl."

This reply caused Max to lazily give Bryan a firm slap in the back of the head. "Liar."

Bryan shot him a nasty stare. "What was that for, dick head?"

Max shook his head and looked at the ceiling. "My amusement."

Bryan crossed his arms like a child. "Tool."

Ronnie stepped into their quarrel, like a father stopping his children from fighting. Though, Amy couldn't picture Ronnie being even close to a paternal figure.

"Grow up you guys, honestly," he turned to Sara with a slight hint of apology. "See what I have to live with?"

Sara chuckled animatedly. "I'm sure they're not that bad."

Ronnie snorted repulsively. "Wrong, doll."

Despite Ronnie's disagreement, his nickname for her caused Sara to blush once again. Amy extremely wanted to question her friend's sanity.

Without warning, Bryan's eyes snapped to Amy's direction, as if realizing her presence for the first time. "Oh, hey there. You were the no-appreciation-for-music chick from last night."

Amy squinted her eyes slightly in a pissed off manner. "That was me, yes."

As if Bryan noticed her defensive look, his facial expression evolved into friendliness. "That's alright. Everyone to their own, I guess."

Amy's eyes grew bigger with shock. "Yeah….exactly."

Bryan smiled and nodded at her.

"Oh yeah," piped in Ronnie with his loud voice. "I remember you. You were that chick who pissed off this kid," he said pointing to Max.

Max sent him a glare. "Pissed me off? I wasn't affected whatsoever."

Amy turned her dark gaze on him. "That's typical. Not affected by any means other than yourself."

Amy heard Sara groan beside her.

"What are you saying?" snarled Max, turning on her, his green eyes turning into hard stones.

"You're selfish, is what I'm saying."

"And you're an emotionless bitch."

"I think you've mistaken me for yourself, seeing as you're the one who's emotionless!"

"No, you're wrong there, sweetheart. As long as I appreciate music, I'll have feeling."

"So because I don't take a listen to your foolish noise I have no feeling?"

"That's exactly what I mean."

"Stop it!" yelled Sara, physically getting in between the two arguing young adults.

Amy exhaled the breath she was holding, and she stomped off to her bedroom, hands into fists at her sides. When she entered her safe sanctuary, she grabbed a random book that was perched on the black book shelf next to her window, and took it to her bed. She lay down in a comfortable position before opening the book to the first page. She noticed her book of choice was Rose Madder by Stephen King. Without wait, she started reading, eager to escape her irritating reality.

She sits in the corner, trying to draw air out of a room which seemed to have plenty just a few minutes ago and now seems to have none. From what sounds like a great distance she can hear a thin whoop-whoop sound, and she knows this is air going down her throat and then sliding back out again in a series of feverish little gasps, but that doesn't change the feeling that she's drowning here in the corner of her living room, looking at the shredded remains of the paperback novel she was reading when her husband---BANG!

Amy sat up with a panicked start, her heart thudding rapidly in her chest. The startling noise had come from the kitchen; she knew that as a fact.

Instantly, with her Rose Madder book still in her hands, she rushed out of her bedroom, dashed down the hallway, and sped to the kitchen. The scenery in front of her caused her breath to go short.

"W-w-what…happened?" gasped Amy, her free hand which wasn't holding the book, went straight to her chest.

The room, which was pleasantly clean a few hours before was now mostly covered in melted cheese. The counters, the table, the floor, and part of the ceiling now held an orange and white substance. The microwave's door had a dark hole in it, causing Amy to see its disgusting oozy insides.

Sara walked guiltily in front of Amy. "Well….we were hungry…and you know I can't cook---

"Why didn't you ask me to cook something?" Amy asked with sternness shooting from her voice.

"Well, you seemed upset when you went off to your room…so we didn't want to bother you," Sara said, her eyes wide with fault.

Amy pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers and exhaled. "How did this happen….to my kitchen?"

Sara swallowed her existing saliva and answered. "Well, we saw your package of Pizza Pockets in the freezer…and they looked pretty easy to make…"

"It was Max's fault," Bryan chirped, appearing to not want Sara to take the blame.

Max shot him an icy glare. "What the fuck."

Bryan shrugged. "She was going to find out anyway, man."

Bryan looked at Amy and continued. "Max decided it was okay to cook the Pizza Pockets while they were still in the package."

An empty can of Coca-Cola zoomed straight into the side of Bryan's platinum head, causing him to yelp and touch his hair. "What gives, Green?"

"You were asking for it."

Amy turned to Max with vengeance. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

Max growled at her with detest. "All because you have some book in your hand you feel the need to comment on my stupidity?"

Amy raised an eyebrow at him. "Not at all actually. Just your brainless actions seemed to prove enough."

"You're a fucking geek."

"Because I'm reading a book?" Amy asked sarcastically. "It's called having intelligence."

"It's called having no life."

"And you think your life is better than mine?" Amy asked while glaring daggers.

"I know it, sweetheart," Max replied, approaching her with vengeance.

"I think you should leave," Amy replied pointing at the front door to her left.

"Was just about to," replied Max, storming off towards the front door. He forcefully opened the door, and walked out without a backwards glance.

"I'll meet you guys in the fucking bus!" was all they could hear from the hallway. Ronnie and Bryan looked at each other and shook their heads knowingly.

"We should head out," stated Ronnie looking at Sara and Amy. "Max gets impatient."

"Who fucking cares what he thinks?" mumbled Amy under her breath.

Bryan, apparently hearing her comment, chuckled lightly. "Believe it or not, he's decent at times."

"I'll believe it when I see it," replied Amy, turning to Bryan.

Bryan shrugged and gave her a pat on the shoulders. "Sorry about the kitchen by the way."

Amy shook her head shortly. "Don't worry about it, Sara will help me clean it later."

Sara groaned beside her. "Seriously?"

Amy nodded. "A lesson given is a lesson learned."

Sara grunted. "You really need to stop reading clichés."

Amy smiled at her amusingly. "When the Earth stands still."

Ronnie approached Sara. "Thanks for hanging, it was much more….entertaining than our bus." He then looked at Amy. "Thanks for the hang out. Sorry about the kitchen."

Amy simply shook her head in dismissal.

"See you later then?" Sara asked Ronnie with hopeful eyes.

Ronnie smirked at her and nodded. "For sure, babe."

With a final wave to Sara and a smile to Amy, Bryan walked out the door, soon followed by Ronnie.

"I think that was enough hanging out for one day," said Amy, turning to her poor distorted kitchen.

Sara smiled and shook her head. "Nah."

Amy ignored her and picked up a paper towel.

"Time to clean up this dump."