Videotape, Radiohead
KaraAlissa: You are the greatest, Little Valo: Thank you so much! That's exactly what I'm going for :D
Everyone is brilliant, and I love you all
She felt terrible. She felt like shit actually. Phil stood across the kitchen from her, begging, pleading with her to stop. But She wouldn't stop, Adrianna stood at the china cabinet, throwing any precious heirloom she could at him. His defense? Nothing. He was taking it like a real man.
"Dee, Baby." She responded by throwing a plate at his head.
"Please." He pleaded, his hands pressed into the praying position.
She couldn't help but smile as a shocked expression came across his face as she pushed everything on the kitchen counter to the floor in one swift motion. The last utensils they'd be wanting.
"Where are you going?" He asked following behind her captiously, in complete fear of where the rampage would lead, following her up the stairs and down the hall toward the bedroom.
"I can't believe you!" She screamed as she turned around, throwing a punch at his face. He grabbed her hand in mid air and held it to his chest softly. "You need to calm down..."
"You don't think, you just act. That's your biggest flaw!" She screamed at him, pulling away and storming into the bedroom. Phil rolled his eyes and followed into the bed room. "I told him that because..."
"Because you're a selfish prick!" She screamed, he was now positive the neighbors could hear. She smirked at him, with an evil glint in her eye and reached under the bed. She pulled out a shoe box and he began to panic. "Baby..."
She walked to the other side of the bed, pouring it out. "Stop." He said. It was going to hurt her a lot more than it hurt him, and as much as he hated to admit it. He didn't want to hurt her anymore.
She held up a photo and sneered. Her, that fucking slut. Maria.
Her perfect hair framing her perfect face, her perfect naked body sprawled out across that hotel bed, at least she hoped it was a hotel bed, if it were the same bed She and Phil had shared so many nights she wouldn't be able to take it.
"That's not mine." He snapped at her.
"Well who's is it then? Mine!?" She screamed.
"When?" She stated, no tone in her voice.
He took a deep breath and sighed. "I want the truth, Phillip." She confirmed, crossing her arms over her chest. He closed his eyes, he couldn't watch.
"This time last year. She asked me if I wanted to go back to her hotel room. I did." He whispered, opening his eyes on the last word, seeing her blank face. She turned the photo to face him, she was staring right into the camera, her legs spread and her chest pushed out, all for him.
Adrianna smirked as she slowly tore right down the middle of the picture. She threw one half at him, and he picked it up off the floor. She looked at the picture and smiled. "Tell her I say hi." She shoved the picture in her pocket and turned around to sit on the bed with her back facing him.
He couldn't help but smile, she was so like him. "I love you, Dee."
"Don't lie to me Phil, Not now." He nodded, although she couldn't see. "If there's one thing I hate, it's liars."
"Dee." He mumbled. "This is it, huh?" He said, putting his hands into his pockets.
She nodded, "The last straw."
He sighed and walked around to her side of the bed. Tears rolled freely down her face, although she had no expression. "I'm going back to LA tomorrow; Mom sent me a plane ticket yesterday."
"Oh." He said. "So soon?" She glared up at him as he stood in front of her.
"You're back on the road next week Phil. Don't act as if you give a shit if I'm here or not." She snapped, he took a step back. "Okay..."
"...You better start packing then."
"Yeah, I better start packing then."
She was lying. She hated liars. She hated herself. She was living her life one big lie. What she really wanted was for Phil to ask her to stay, ask her for his forgiveness.
Sophie was right, Phil wasn't like that.
Dee nodded, standing up but not looking at him, wiping her face from all the tears. "Dee. Before you pack." She turned to look at him. "I'm sorry. For keeping the house for myself."
She shrugged, "You're selfish, what can I say?"
He didn't argue, she had the last say. She didn't want the last say, she wanted him to yell and scream and fight her for every inch, every bit of power. Fighting was the only way to talk to him. But no, she was lying when she called it fighting.
To them, it was proper communication.
