A strong distaste for confrontation,
Leaves no room for self expression,
such a strain to remain so docile,
Though don't you know it all takes its toll...
"It Never Gets Easier" by Straylight Run
Bella sighed to herself as she sat by herself in the little bakery by her apartment. She would occasionally glance up from picking at her triple chocolate muffin to glance out of the windows at the emotionless grey sky through the rain-beaded window. She was aware of the occasional glances thrown her way by random patrons but she didn't even react. Every once in awhile, the waitress would come refresh her coffee and she would respond automatically. She was drinking it black by this point and usually she had to have enough sugar to give an elephant 'diabeetus' for it to even have a chance of being consumed.
Her thoughts were on Paul and the conversation they'd had the previous day. She was trying to wrap her head around the Paul she thought she knew and who he actually was. The two weren't so completely different that she thought she was going to split her skull open, but she did have a lot to think about.
Paul sighed and turned to look into Bella's eyes. He could see the fear swirling in their depths, with flickers of hope. He didn't want to crush this beautiful woman. Someway.. Somehow.. She had taken up residence in a small portion of his heart. He knew that it would hurt if she left, no matter how small that space was. She was in there, tucked among his mom and very few others..
"I don't want to hurt you, Bella.."
She raised an eyebrow, trying to hard to keep an indifferent mask on her face, "Then don't."
"It's not that simple. Some of the things I have to tell you, you probably won't like. I really hope they don't make you hate me, but they could make you want to have nothing to do with me again.. Even if we did just have amazing sex."
Bella let out a small giggle and peered at him through her thick lashes, "Should I be afraid?"
He shook his head, "I don't know. I know that I'm entirely afraid of your reaction.."
"Just spit it out."
"When you came to the club.. I wasn't working upstairs."
She frowned, "Then where were you? You do really work there, right?"
He nodded, "I work there.. But I was on the bottom floor."
"Then why weren't you behind the bar?"
"I wasn't bartending that night.. Do you remember a few of the things we talked about?"
He knew the minute she understood what he was telling her. He saw the shock and disbelief hit her like a bolt of lightening. She stood up and started pacing, "No. No. You told me you're a-"
"I am a bartender. When it's pink nights, I bartend. I didn't lie about looking at the girls though, they're like my family."
"No. You're kidding. You have to be. I saw you in your fireman uniform the day we met. You're a firefighter."
She turned to fix him with a glare only to be confused by the anguish she saw in his eyes. The grimace on his face and the way he clenched his fists as he stared at her.. She was having emotional whiplash.
"I was a firefighter. I was even told I was one of the best. They recruited me straight away and trained me. I loved my job, I loved helping people. Being a fireman was a dream job and I loved living my dream. My partner was a fantastic mentor and we grew close like family. I thought I was close with everyone.. But there was an incident with a big rig and I did some things in front of a guy I wasn't supposed to. I wasn't exactly by the book. There was no three-strike option with it and they turned me away. I got angry but then I panicked. Ma is so sick and I had to be able to take care of her.. I saw this ad in the paper.."
His voice caught and Bella sat beside him with a soft look in her eyes that he missed. She placed her hand ontop of one of his fists but he pulled away and stood up.
"I don't like what I have to do. I know it's not a job my ma would be proud to say her son has. She thinks I'm strictly a bartender, or at least she plays like that."
"Paul.."
"Don't say anything. Don't say you accept it, don't cuss me out yet, don't do nothin'. Just think about it. And once you've thought of what all of this means, how all of our tomorrows would play out, then you can make your decision. Once all of that's done, call me. I'll listen while you tell me you either love me or hate me."
He quickly brushed a kiss, soft but so heartfelt, across her lips before rushing out of her apartment.
Paul was a stripper...
The night she had tried to ambush him at work, he had just gotten done taking off his clothes for several women, strangers...
It started to support his sick mother, and more than likely is the reason he still strips..
He's ashamed of himself. The sheer amount of self-loathing he was putting off almost knocked her over. It was a vast difference from the cocky, self-assured, sex-on-legs Paul that she had equated him with.
But did it change him?
Paul's choice of work didn't change who he was, not any more than the fact that she wanted to be a dancer and she was a fucking waitress. Actually, shouldn't she admire what he was doing to help his mother? She didn't ask what was wrong with Sophia and Paul didn't volunteer, but the sorrow about her condition had been visible as Paul spoke.
She remembered the look on his face in the VIP room when he asked about her thoughts on stripping. Who was she to judge? She hadn't hit bottom enough to have to swallow her pride. Sure, someone can say that they would never put theirself in that position, and she had, but when push comes to shove who would honestly put their money where their mouth was and just let someone else suffer? Paul was not struggling. Paul was keeping his mother comfortable and seemingly happy. Paul was young and alive and did such fuck-awesome things to her body that she couldn't remember her name. She had started to care for Paul when she had thought he was a simple fireman/bartender..
She stood with determination, threw down some bills and walked out into the rain. Paul left before she could tell him ANYTHING and she'd be damned if she would give him her answer over a text or cellphone conversation.
"And you jus' left?!" Donnie exclaimed, waving his hands in the air with shock written all over his face. Paul had just finished his story about what had happened between himself and Bella, needing to tell someone (anyone) about it.
"What else could I do?"
The flat look that graced his friend's face made him mentally groan.
"What else could you'a done? You could'a let the broad talk! What if she has secrets too, eh? Because I can almost guarantee you she does. All dames do."
Paul resisted the urge to bang his head against the brick building wall they were leaning against, "I wasn't ready to hear her tell me how morally reprehensible I am."
Donnie raised an eyebrow, "Reprehensible, eh? Pretty big word for a classless stripper like you."
A middle finger was raised in reply and Donnie started laughing, "Boy'o, you should'a stuck around. She might'a surprised you."
Paul's phone burned in his pocket. He so badly wanted it to ring or chirp or vibrate or something signifying contact from Bella. He tried to tell himself it hadn't been that long but he was in agony.
"Why am I so hung up on this girl!?" He growled.
"What girl?"
The voice caused Paul to freeze, dread gripping his insides. Donnie was looking behind him with a confused expression and Paul strung together cuss words in his head so horrible, even a sailor would disapprove.
"Who're you?" Donnie grumped, crossing his arms.
"Pauly knows who I am. Don'cha babycakes?"
Paul slowly turned, "Sammy."
She had curled her hair up and Paul almost winced at her heavy makeup. Once, he had thought Samantha James was a beautiful girl. He'd charmed her (or so he thought) and was so sure she was Wifey material. When he brought her home to his mother, the two clashed. At the time, he had chalked it up to his ma not wanting to let someone else take care of her baby boy.. Until he went out with the guys after a tough call and found her wrapped around some string bean in a bar as if she were an octopus. He cut her loose and she turned into a stalker! She followed him, called him constantly and tried to scare off any girl who got close to him. He had thought he had given her the slip..
Obviously not.
She smiled brightly, popping her gum and making him grimace, "Hiya Pauly."
"Yo. This girl looks like if you lit a fire too close, all the paint on her would cause her to burst into flames!" Donnie commented under his breath, causing Paul to snicker.
"So Pauly" she said, looking 'casually' at her nails, "What girl?"
"I don't answer to you, Sammy."
Her voice was grating his nerves and he wanted so badly to go deaf temporarily. How had he ever thought Samantha James was the one? Her voice was like the kid from Teen Beach Movie who had giant hair, or that Fran Dress-hair lady.. She was so vapid and knew nothing about anything. The girl was born and bred in New York and yet she stood in front of him with another team's colors on her head!
"Awh. Baby boy. You know you love me."
He rolled his eyes, "What do you want, Sam? I've no time for you or games."
Her eyes flashed, "But you've got some hard-on for some waitress chick? Is that it?"
He felt ice settle in his stomach, "How do you know anything about her?"
"Oh, I've got my ways. You should know that by now. I probably know more about her than you do."
"Stay out of it!"
"Look. I've sat by and let you take your clothes off for gals who obvi ain't gettin' any. But I'm not gonna let it fly, you fuckin this girl and talkin about her this way. You're mine."
"That is so not what he said last night, bitch."
Paul felt his heart flutter (but not in a chick way, of course) when he heard Bella's voice. His body grew warm as she walked around the corner and leaned against the brick wall, a smirk gracing her beautiful lips. Her jeans looked painted on and he caught the sparkle of her belly ring as it caught the sun light. The crop top and black-leather jacket she was wearing should have been illegal. It made him want to grab her and pin her against the wall. He knew the wonderful things he could do to that body.. He was getting hard just thinking about it.
Sammy hissed and curled up like a feral cat, "What'd you say, bitch?"
Bella rolled her eyes and started walking slowly up the lane towards them, her heels clicking dramatically with each step, "You heard me.. Or does all that spray-tan eat up some precious brain cells? You look like a rat from Jersey."
Paul and Donnie couldn't help but laugh and Sammy growled in indignation, "You little whore!"
"Whore? Oh, you better look in the mirror. You're even painted up all pretty."
Sammy coiled like a cobra when Bella walked close and Paul smirked as she just slipped by him and curled her body against his, "Hiya Paul."
He let out her name like a prayer, "Belladonna."
"You and me, we have things to discuss."
He looked her up and down and smirked before motioning to the EMPLOYEE ONLY door of the club, "After you."
Donnie held the door open and they went inside, Sammy shrieking and cussing at them as the door closed without her.