Hi ladies, well I've been writing a lot, so I really hope you enjoy this chapter, have a wonderful day everybody: )
"You're impossible" he said as he sat next to a tree.
"What do you mean?"
"Complicated… Different, I guess that's what happens when you read novels, we have that in common"
"I'll take it as a compliment, then" she said sitting right next to him.
"Well you shouldn't, girls want to be praised with compliments like 'You look beautiful just like …' and then you add a name of a model or an actress, but not with the adjective different" he finished, without looking at her, he knew she was staring.
"I don't mind it anymore, all my life I've been different, everyone who knows me knows that I'm strange; I'm not gonna lie, I did feel bad, I cried every time I returned from school" she sighed "I never told my mom, she was… is worried about my lack of people skills, I had a rough time, I once returned from school with my hair covered with stickers"
John, laughing asked "What happened?"
"I told the teacher that some girls in my team, hadn't read the book she assigned, so by that afternoon I had a complete new hair-do"
"That's for being a telltale" he teased.
"It wasn't my fault, was it? They wanted me to do my homework and also theirs, I'm not an idiot" she argued. "Besides, it was a short story; it's not my fault if they were dumb and illiterate"
"Wow, I would've hated you even more if we were together in school" he said "I was like those girls you mentioned"
"That's not what Norm told me"
"What? What did he say?" He asked.
"That the teachers said you were quite bright and a bookworm" she declared "A complete pain, but a clever one"
"He paid them to say that, I wasn't like that, all they want is to have a clean image of me, believe me I was a complete little fucke' " he said as he looked to the sky "They want me to become something I'm not, I can not change meself; I'm a failure, an ugly monster as you've said it yourself"
Michelle felt misery in his words, a gloom when he said that about himself. In her life , she hadn't felt an urge to make him feel better, or anyone else. "Am I becoming a nice person?"she asked in her thoughts.
"But that's alright with me, I can take my title as a rock star seriously" he said with a fake smile that disappeared rapidly.
"You don't have to act ghastly to be musician, John; why are you so afraid to become who you truly are? I know it's difficult; I once tried to avoid reading and focus on magazines as the other girls did, but it was painful, a lot of people may not like me …"
"No one" he teased again.
She then with a smile said "But I think I like me, and I can not run away from myself, so I must accept how socially incapable I am"
"What makes you think I'm not being meself, because I am, I'm a rock-and-roll star with a bad attitude and a sexy girlfriend, and one day I will die drunk in my mansion" he exclaimed "And you, milady , will live in your perfect little home with dogs or cats, I don't remember which one you said, the end"
She sighed with anger "Yeah, I guess you're right, silly me for thinking there was so much more beneath your awful exterior and manners"
Michelle stood up, she was bothered, there she was trying to speak calmly to him, to the only person she had truly felt a bond with, or something like a companionship; and he was being bad to her again.
"Nup, I'm hollow baby" he announced, as he took a harmonica from his trousers.
She noticed that, and so she sat again, but this time far from him, opened her purse, took a pen and a little brown notebook, and began to write.
John noticed that and stopped playing "What are you writing?" He inquired; he stood and walked towards her.
She waited a little to answer "What a twit you are"
John took it from her hands; she immediately stood up to get her notebook. John read that it had some words in front of every name, there was Paul, Ringo, George and of course John.
"What's this, George: guitar, eyes … Paul: watch …?"
"Can I have it back please; it's where I take notes for the book"
"Why did you write: hair, glasses, jaw … and harmo, in front of my name?"
"It was supposed to be harmonica, but you snatched it from me"
John gave her the notebook, and wondered "So, why did you?"
"To remind myself of which should I use when I describe your actions, for example with Ringo… I have some but my favorite is blink, he blinks a lot, when he speaks, so I should mention several times when I write about him, as if I were describing the personality of each one of you"
"You should mention his snoring; and what about the harmonica"
"How you randomly play it, we could be watching a movie and suddenly we hear you playing it, I haven't noticed it until now, but it seems to me that sometimes you play it when you want to say something but at the same time you regret it"
"No, I play it so I stop myself from punching people"
"Oh my God, I don't know why I even try, I really thought you cared, that you listened to my stories, but you are so…"
He interrupted "What about my hair? Does it want to say something too?"
"No, I wrote about it because you always mess with it, and it looks filthy and it makes me hurl a little"
She spoke with a lot of anger, and she got angrier when she saw him laughing. She read the next on her list.
"Oh, and your glasses, because it shows how fake you are, you can't stand contact glasses but you need them, so you go on stage without any of those, as blind as a bat, but it doesn't matter, right? , as long as you look great as the big dumbass rock star you like to be"
John was still mocking as she read the next thing she had written, she had trouble because she was shaking with frustration. Then she saw, she had written jaw, she remembered when she wrote that, it was in the train, when they went to Manchester, she had woken up before he did, she looked up and she notice how attractive he looked, she wrote it so she would remember the first time she'd felt in love or at least something close to that. She wasn't going to say that, how could she? That jaw she felt attracted to, was now moving due to his laughter; that boy was laughing at her. She put her notebook inside her purse.
"Let's go, now" she said, cheerless.
"No, don't you wanna hear mine?" he asked her.
"Oh please John, I think you exceed your joke about me limit for today" she announced as he walked away.
"Wait, I'm not going to make joke" he said standing in front of her.
She looked at him with suspicion.
"If I had a notebook I'd probably write, Girl"
"Wow, I supposed you had a lot of trouble finding that out" she said with sarcasm.
"Wait, it's from a draft I've been writing"
"For a song?" she asked, she couldn't hide her enthusiasm.
"A song, a book … a poem, I still don't know" He winked at her "You're right, let's go or they will leave us"
Thoughts? … was it good? Haha, thank you so much for your lovely comments.