A/N: Thank you all for the awesome feedback! Fourteen reviews is the most I have ever gotten for one chapter of any story! I'm glad you all enjoy Jasper' snarkiness like me. :) Hopefully you like chapter two and keep reading!
Disclaimer: The song mentioned is Advice (pilgrim) by The Stevedores The plot belongs to me. The characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Happy reading.
Advice (pilgrim)
"How dare you sneak out of the house without saying anything!"
Well, that's sneaking out, mamma.
"Maria was nice enough to stop by and perhaps put what happened between you two behind her, but you just couldn't have that, right?"
You'd love that wouldn't you.
"And your sister! She's engaged, Jasper, do you realize how you walked away from her night too?"
You made it Maria's night.
The front door opened as the answering machine still blared. All chatter suddenly disappeared, but I refused to turn around from the closet. When we invite people over, Edward and I always come separately so one of us can shove everything dirty into the closet—and not that kind of dirty, like laundry and shit. Bella knew better, but never said anything about our always-locked closet. Still, Edward got pissed if I didn't keep at it.
"There's no use talking to you about this over the phone," she sounded defeated, although I knew otherwise. "You're still invited for Christmas and I hope you reconsider and show your family some respect." Or—what my mom was actually trying to say—show my ex-fiancé the engagement ring that she gave back to me, still kept in my dresser drawer under some mismatched socks.
"END OF NEW MESSAGES."
There was silence for a few seconds as I kicked the last bit of crap in the closet and shut the door behind me. I looked up and Edward and Bella were walking into the kitchen. Miss. Alice was staring at me, but not in a disproving way, not in a sympathetic 'I-feel-sorry-for-you' stare… It was curious and—analytical.
"Still sneaking out of the house?" Bella called from the other room, causing our gaze to be broken.
"Yep," I replied, crossing the room to open Peter's old bedroom door, which was now the music room for all of my babies. I pulled out ol' faithful (also known as my first guitar) and shut the door behind me, walking back to the living room to see Alice was looking around the apartment with those big doe eyes of hers.
"Still haven't changed your phone number?" Bella continued, mocking me. Some background: every time my mom called, I would threaten to change our number.
"You're funny," I spat back. I held the neck of the guitar in one hand as I pulled up a cushioned worn-down armchair with the other. I cleared my throat and Alice turned. I offered her the seat. She stared some more. I tilted my head, waiting. One corner of her lips tugged up, in a sort-of 'thank you', and she took the seat. Hmm, that was weird.
I sat back on the couch, tucking the instrument under my arm and sliding my hand up the fret board soothingly, not strumming or plucking anything, just feeling the relief of the steel strings against my calloused fingertips.
"You play the keyboard, guitar, and you sing," Alice interrupted my therapy session and I glanced up to meet her wide eyes. I nodded slightly before leaving her trance. "Is that all?" she asked.
"Not exactly," I replied, keeping some mystery of my own. I smirked at my childish act, but continued anyway. I was used to playing the mystery role with the ladies, but having a girl—nay, woman—be the mysterious one was throwing me off my game.
You have to step back and put yourself in my shoes. I have only dated malicious bloodthirsty—or perhaps ego-thirsty is a better phrase—women: Maria being the epitome of vain malevolence. I'm used to interior motives, lies, and facades and I would like to think of myself as a psychologist in a way. I can weed out the bitches from the ever-so-rare all around good girls. It's a gift.
Now I don't use women, but I do play a bit of a game with them to decipher what the fuck is going on in their pretty little heads. This doesn't work when the girl is playing a game of her own and mocking me. It's like when a BAU agent goes to crack the serial killer, but they get distracted because the killer is trying to learn more about the agent and keep them away from the real case.
All right, I exaggerate, but just keep this all in mind and don't call me an asshole. There is an explanation for my madness. Every woman has a motive and don't deny it.
"What else?" she continued to press, tucking her denim-clad legs underneath her as she leaned toward me, propping her elbow up on the arm of the chair to get comfortable. She was at the edge of her seat like an excited kid looking for her grandfather to tell her a good 'when I was your age' story. Not that I was the grandfather and—you get the fucking picture.
Thankfully Edward saved me.
"You want anything to drink, Jasper?" he called from the other room as I heard the cabinets' hinges squeak in protest as they open and shut noisily.
"Coffee."
"Black?"
"You read my mind."
"Coffee turns your teeth yellow," Alice noted with a joking disproving look. I focused back on the strings, grasping a new plucking pattern I had been struggling with for a while.
"Are you a dentist?" I joked right back. She smiled and looked down into her lap, shaking her head, but not correcting me. Hmm, still up to the mystery game. All right, fine. Well there were two possibilities for Alice's coming to our show tonight.
The first was this was a set-up. Bella had always felt—sympathetic (god, I hate that word) toward me ever since Maria left. She saw it coming—who didn't?—and I think she felt guilty that she didn't warn me of it. If she had warned me, I probably would've called her a couple four letter words and told her to fuck off. She did the right thing, but these set-ups sucked.
They were always girls who she met through a friend or once in high school and happened to fall into contact with again, but knew nothing about. Lauren Mallory, for fucking example, was head cheerleader in high school, but was in the same group of friends as Bella. The two met through an old alumni thing on Facebook and she seemed decent enough for Jasper, I guess.
She still sends me threatening messages from an empty account with the alias 'Mauren Lallory.' Alright, she's not that stupid, but she might as well have made the name just that. Who else would message me with, 'you're a fucking asshole for dumping Lauren'? Clever, Ms. Mallory, you are quite clever.
The second reason for Alice's unexpected appearance this evening was what made more sense, of course it could be a combination of the two; I wouldn't put it past Bella to set me up with someone who lives with her.
"You're Bella's new roommate, aren't you?" It finally clicked.
Bella had been living with her bitch-of-a-roommate Jessica Stanley since before I met her. When Jessica got engaged to cheating womanizer—though he's as dorky as Steve Urkel-Mike Newton, she packed up and left without any help with the rent or any real notice. Bella was pissed, but definitely not surprised. Last I heard, Bella put an ad in the paper and Edward was trying to contact old friends from college to see if anyone was interested. More so that Edward could make sure that whoever it was wasn't just some pervert from Craig's List.
Last I heard… Hmm, that was probably a year ago? Right around the time that Maria left. I guess I grew uninterested in Bella's roomie search—and rightly so.
"Not really 'new,'" Alice began to get technical, but shifted uncomfortably and rephrased. "Yeah, I guess… Edward's an old family friend and mentioned the apartment when my—uh, previous living arrangements kind of fell through." Well that was a heavy-weighted statement. She was good at keeping people interested.
No, damn it. She was using my material. I was the mysterious, keep-you-wanting-more guy! Fuck…
Still, curiosity got to me; it seemed Alice had a bit more experience at the anonymity act than I had given her credit for. What really bothered me—and somewhat impressed me—was her nonchalance, as if she didn't mean for this to be an act. I'm not paranoid, I swear.
I opened my mouth to ask more, but Edward and Bella came in from the kitchen. Bella sat next to me, handing me my coffee and Edward sat in the other armchair.
"You're a saint," I told Bella with a grateful smile as I let my guitar fall in my lap and I cradled the coffee with my life. She rolled her eyes before addressing Alice.
"Normally we prep him with people skills, but how did he hold up?" she always pretended like I was a jackass—I mean some of the time I am and I suck at small talk, but there is no need to be snippy, Miss. Swan.
And I told her that: "There is no need to be snippy, Miss. Swan." She stuck her tongue out at me as I took another gulp of the bitter beverage.
Alice smirked and shook her head. "Small talk's not his forte, but he was polite," she defended me. I nodded in her direction and took another mouthful of the coffee.
"What'd you think about these two on stage tonight?" she continued to talk like we weren't here. I furrowed my brow and looked up at Edward in protest. He was too whipped to restrain his girlfriend. Ugh. I made some grunt or noise of objection.
"Wait, you're supposed to talk about this when we're not here. Why are you talking about us like we aren't here?" I interjected franticly.
"It was cool. Do you play at that bar all the time or do you go to different venues?" Alice ignored my panic and continued to—somewhat encourage our music. 'Cool' is good, right? She didn't say 'rancid' or 'shitty'. 'Cool' is definitely good in my book.
"Mostly that bar and one or two others downtown. There aren't a lot of places that will let an unnamed band jam," Edward shrugged, and then turned to glare at me. Fuck, what'd I do? "We'd figure out a name if you weren't always late to rehearsal."
"Dude, unfair! You know why I was late tonight," I practically whimpered, pausing in my comeback to take another swig of caffeine. "We'd figure out a name if you weren't so stubborn on your poetic references."
"It's not poetry, it's classical renowned musicians. Mozart's—"
"Don't finish the name, there are ladies present," I interrupted with a smirk. Bella snorted and Alice giggled. Edward groaned and slouched back in the chair, rolling his eyes, before leaning forward to snatch my baby from my lap for his own selfish impulsive musical needs. We'd kiss and make up later.
"Well," Alice began. "Once you figure out your name, I have a couple venues that would probably let you play." … What?
"What?" What? I speak my mind.
"Alice is a party planner," Bella explained offhandedly. "She works with ballrooms mostly, but she added a few bars and nightclubs to rent out." Alice is a party planner? Yeah, I guess I could see her as quite the party animal… That last thought was sarcastic—obviously. Maybe I caught her on an off day.
"A couple of big name agents hang out in a few nightclubs I just rented for an engagement party," Alice added excitedly. What? "I think some of them would definitely be interested." What—no. Definitely not.
"Awesome," Edward said; glancing up to look at me, all the anger from thirty seconds ago was gone. He was looking for approval from his other band mate… I wasn't giving it.
The last thing our anonymous band needs is exposure. I love Peter, but I'm embarrassed of his even being in our band. Let alone Edward, who was dragged out of his poetic emo conformity and brought to rock n' roll by little old me.
"Thanks, but uh—no thanks," I said, my voice definitely sounded a lot nicer on the inside than it did when it actually came out. Ugh. Two glares burned holes in my skin while Alice looked hurt and disappointed.
"Jazz, don't be an ass," Bella argued.
"No, it's fine," Alice waved a hand, dismissing my douchey-ness.
"No, it's not fine. What the hell is your problem tonight?" Bella's voice began rising in volume. The only thing worse than a fight with Bella was Edward's verbal kick in the ass following said fight with Bella.
"Look, I'm sorry, really," I addressed this to Alice, ignoring Bella. "I'm just not into some mainstream yuppie changing our music to fit what the radio is playing, you know?" Alice nodded, but I don't think she really got what I was saying. "Really, thank you for the offer, but we have one-third of our band drunk off his ass every night. I doubt we're even in the shape to be molded into some cookie cutter pop mess by some big shot producer."
Bella looked toward Edward for help, but I ignored their mumbling to make sure Alice at least tried to acknowledge my sincerity. The problem with being a jackass ninety-nine percent of the time was the fact that no one understood when I was being genuine. It was like the boy who cried wolf, except the wolf was Bella and she will eat me.
Pause. Why did it bother me so much that I hurt Alice? Unpause. I have no answer for you…
"It's okay," Alice assured me, leaning back from her previous kid-listening-to-grandpa position. She stretched her legs out in front of her and looked down at her shoes as her feet swung, seemingly unfazed by the ordeal. Then why was Bella making such a big deal out of this? "The offer still stands if you ever reconsider it," Alice added.
"Thanks." I guess that was the least damage I had done. Normally I'd say something and keep at my opinion, never apologizing, but I felt like I had to make an effort here. Not for the sake of my getting out of the Whitlock Christmas Party, but for Bella's sake.
I abhorred Jessica Stanley—so much so that I use the word 'abhor' only for her. Every time I visited Bella, I would deal with the twenty-questions at the front door by Jess before I was allowed in. Or she'd make me do something ridiculous and I'd argue with her to the point where I forgot why I came to see Bella in the first place.
I want to be able to visit my best friend knowing that it will be as easy as knocking on the door and being let inside without having to play a round of Fear Factor.
… Yeah, sure, that's it.
"I'm going to bed," I said, getting up and holding my coffee mug in one hand. I grabbed a pillow off the floor and chucked it at Bella's head. "G'night." I grabbed the guitar from Edward's lap and he stuck his tongue out at me, crossing his arms like a petulant child. I smirked in victory, going to put away ol' faithful.
I crossed the living room, grabbing the phone on my way to the music room. I hung up the guitar on one of the wall stands and shut the door before crossing the hall to my bedroom. I shut the door behind me and immediately started dialing Rosalie's number.
"It's one in the morning, Jasper," Rosalie answered, though sounding annoyed about what time it was, she didn't seem groggy and answered on the first ring. She hadn't been sleeping; she'd been waiting for my call.
"I know, I'm sorry," I began, sitting at the edge of my bed and looking around my cluttered room at nothing in particular, but trying to think of something to say.
Piles of sheet music, wrinkled from abuse and indecisive creativity, lined the windowsill. Laundry was helping the floor win a game of hide-and-go-seek. My dresser drawers were half open or falling apart, clothes bursting from the cracks in the wood. Broken lamp on top of the dresser, hundreds of unfinished notebooks scattered on every surface, ceiling fan caked with dust… Ironically, my bed was made in the mess of a room; I couldn't leave the house with an unmade bed.
"What else?" Rosalie grew impatient. I sighed, flopping back onto the bed and closing my eyes. I pinched the bridge of my nose with my thumb and pointer finger.
"Did I say 'congratulations'?" I asked, feebly.
"Yes, you did," her voice seemed to lighten at the compliment. Of course when we talk about her, she would forgive me for mass murder.
Still, I loved my twin sister and she was getting married—what she always wanted. A 'congratulations' was definitely in order, especially when she chose Emmett and not the douche Royce King, who was the male version of Maria, I guess you could say. He was a womanizer, manipulated Rose, got her paranoid and unhealthily self-conscious to the point where… Well, you can imagine.
Emmett met her a few years later and the two had been inseparable—literally. I loved Emmett like the brother I never had. He warmed up to me pretty quick, took my sarcasm and attitude well, and he was a nasty wrestling partner. He was a childish dork who watched Saturday morning cartoons and played Candy Land in the privacy of his own home. He would make a pretty awesome dad, which is all Rosalie truly wanted.
So they're getting married in a few months. They would have gotten married sooner if Rosalie didn't want to perfect every detail of the wedding, but it's Rosalie and that's how it's going to be.
"I know Emmett wants to ask you this himself, but I'll just give you a head's up." Oh, this is gonna be good. "He wants you to be his best man."
"I, uh—what?" seems like I've been saying that a lot tonight.
"He's an only child and you're the closest family he has," she explained earnestly. I don't think I've ever heard Rosalie sound that sincere and—hopeful. "This means you'll be involved in wedding plans, but Vera is going to help me with most of that. Just be aware you're going to have to stand with dad and—be somewhat civil around him and mom."
I paused, not really knowing what to say. I mean, Rose and I were pretty close, but obviously we were more so than that. To have her fiancé want me to be the best man—this is pretty huge. Emmett was a nice guy and I definitely approve of the two of them. I've dealt with my parents for twenty-four years; I can handle one night of limited snarky remarks.
"Jasper, you still there?" she interrupted my inner monologue. I made a mumble of a reply, too flattered to speak. Did I just say 'flattered'? "So, what do you think?" she sounded nervous. Ha! Rosalie? Nervous? Tonight was definitely number one on my list of weird nights.
"I have to walk Vera down the aisle?" I asked with a dramatic sigh.
Rosalie laughed. "Well that's normally how the best man and maid of honor come in," she said, still laughing. "Vera's nice. You like Vera."
"Vera's husband's a hard ass and he's going to beat me up if I even look at her," I was, once again, being a little dramatic, but to make my sister laugh, I'd keep this up for an hour. It was nice to hear her happy.
"I'll tell John to behave," she assured me, her laughter dying off. All amusement fled the conversation as my subconscious spoke the next few words.
"Can you put me down for a 'plus one'?" Where the fuck did that come from?
I heard Rosalie choke on something and clear her throat. "'Plus one' like you're bringing a date?" she asked incredulously. I closed my eyes tightly and winced in regret. Why did I say that? "Who? Oh my God, why didn't you say anything tonight to mom and dad? It would've stopped the whole Maria shpeal. Can you believe she's moved back? I mean, seriously, it's like she can't let you move on and stop thinking about her—"
"Rose," I groaned, sitting up and slouching forward. She immediately stopped her rambling and apologized. I knew she didn't mean any harm by it. She was as shocked and pissed as I was.
"I'm not seeing anyone, I just may ask a—friend to come and help em avoid the Maria thing, if it happens again," I tried to explain. Rosalie mulled it over with a few 'hmm's, but didn't really let it go.
"A friend, huh?" she asked with a deviousness undertone. She read right through my bullshit.
"More like an acquaintance."
"Ah, now she's just an acquaintance," she was like a fucking echo.
"Nothing happened and probably nothing will," I continued, pausing as I heard laughter from the other room. Alice's soprano giggles giving me a few unmentionable (for fear of being ridiculed by you lovely people) reactions. "I may end up bringing Edward or something as cover."
"Ugh," Rosalie complained in distaste. "At least bring the drunk one."
"Peter?"
"Yeah, he's the life of any party," she said with another laugh. "I'll put you down for a plus one, baby bro."
"Thanks," we both sat in silence for a minute or two, just enjoying each other's indirect company, before I heard a bang and Emmett cuss in the background.
"If you spilled that on the new couch—" Rosalie began to threaten. "Oh, for the love of god…"
"I'll talk to you tomorrow," I said quickly, not wanting to get involved.
"Bye," she practically growled before the line went dead. I'd call again tomorrow to see if Emmett survived.
A/N: Why I chose this song (Advice [pilgrim]):
"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."
Ah, The Shining. I think the edge to that Stevedores song really fits well with Jasper's attitude and still coping with the Maria situation. Alright, what do you all think? Did I do a good job with chapter two? Please leave a review and tell me what you think! Like/Hate? Let me know. Thanks for reading.