November 22
Today, Jean came and sat in front of me at Lunch. Ritzy was serving detention (yet again) so I was all alone.
And doing just fine too.
Jean asked me how was life like she was some physcotherapist or something, with a wry look on her crimped face. I gave her a disturbed look, hoping she'd go away, but she just sat there, gaping at the food before me.
"Just peachy," I lied, stuffing the rest of the sandwich I was eating into my mouth. Then she stared at my chewing, as if my munching actually mattered.
Of course I knew she wanted something. It's not everyday you see Miss Popular, that's-my-real-hair-color come sit with a freak like me. Oh no. This day was different. Jean wanted something. From me. Xavier must be proud.
Then Jean said," Rogue? Is that a new hairdo? Cuz I swear it wasn't like that a week ago..."
I remembered frowning. She was certainly acting pretty much like Scott when he asked to use me to get to her.
I wondered if this was any different.
"Cut the crap, Grey," I told her, and she put a hand to her throat as if shocked that I said a cuss word in a 150 mi radius from her, "whaddya want?"
She looked annoyed, but said anyway, "Well, you know, I was asked to speak at this conference at Washington for mutants," she said all spiffy.
"No," I said, breaking her off. She pretended that I knew though and did the obscene - she started picking at my food.
That meant she was nervous about something.
"And I'd be gone for like, what? It's not a complete week.. I'll be back before Thanksgiving...oh how do I put this?"
"Four days?" I suggested, forcing myself to speak. Jean gave an ebullient nod, her mouth full of my food.
"Yeah, that's it! Gosh, Rogue, you could be so smart sometimes, ya know?" she said, and continued picking at my food. She didn't even look to see if I was disgusted.
"Jean, where is this going?" I asked mildly. She stopped picking at my food.
"Well, um, you see... I need a small favor," she said. I watched as she clawed out bits of bread under her perfectly manicured nails. It wasn't as amusing as it sounds.
Then she said, "I need you to watch Remy when I'm gone."
I laughed a no and frowned. "What is this really about, Jean? You don't trust your boyfriend?" I slurred the last word to show mockery. She didn't seem to notice.
"Well, no, I should, huh?" Great answer. I huffed my response.
"Why're you asking me?" Silence. Then I caught Jean's glance and followed it to my gloves. "My powers." It made sense. I wouldn't be able to touch him for lust. Perfect for Jean to use.
Jean sprung at the chance. "So would you?"
I picked up my tray and headed for the trash can. She followed. "Please Rogue? You don't even have to come near him! Just watch him for me, please!" she begged. I was and still am thoroughly disgusted.
"Jean, he's not a dog. He doesn't need a leash to for you to tug him to where he needs to go," I said, throwing away my trash.
"No, he's my boyfriend," she said so defensively I wanted to laugh. But her seriousness struck me. She wasn't kidding.
"He doesn't need to be reminded. He loves you." The words rolled off my tongue. Jean looked sullen.
"I know." She put her head down and looked away sadly. I sighed, far as I could remember.
"Fine. I'll watch your damn boyfriend," I mumbled. She immediately brightened.
"Thank you!" She took a step forward to hug me but I pushed the tray into her.
"Don't."
"Right," she said, pulling her shirt down, "see you later then."
Good grief. Why can't I ever say no for a change? The toilet paper comes back into play, and so soon, so soon.
November 23
Ding dong! The witch is Gone!! I've made up a dance just to celebrate! Okay, not really but hey, she's GONE!!
I watched her go this morning. Remy was loading her luggages (she has four. I guess one for everyday) into her new SUV that Xavier gave to her. I guess he wanted a kiss but she jumped into the vehicle, claiming loudly that she'd be late for her plane. Then she rolled down the window, blew a kiss to Remy shouting, "I love you!", and drove out of the gate. She almost missed the turn, nearly heading into a rock, then swerved and was out of sight.
Thus her departure which begins my spying.
6:30 p.m.
Remy came home from school and locked himself in his room. This could be eaiser than I thought.
November 24
Okay. There is something VERY wrong going on here!
REMY IS GONE!!!
I was bringing juice and cookies to him after school (so I could see if he had another girl in there with him), when I knocked and his door just opened. I looked in and went by his bed. He had made a make-shift person with pillows under his stupid covers!
Well, I'll be off. I bet he's downtown looking for a hooker. God, the things I do. And I claim I have a life.
10 p.m.
Well I found Remy. In his ROOM!!
He obviously snuck off and returned when I was out looking for him. And since it's like close to winter, the air was freaking chilly and my nose could've practically fallen off when I got home. I opened his stupid door and looked to see him in there. He turned, saw me, and threw a card. I closed the door just when it went KA BOOM! And I've confined myself by the fire next to you ever since.
11 p.m.
I can't sleep. I decided to stay in the living room since it's much warmer than in that cell I must call a room.
I swear, it's colder than hell in there.
November 25, 1 a.m.
I hear footsteps.
1:11 a.m.
Okay. I have confirmed it's Remy. Let's see what he's doing up so late.
5:30 a.m.
This has been unmistakenly one hellva morning.
But I'm so freakin tired it's not even funny.
I snuck into the trunk of the X Jeep using the leftover powers of Kitty after she accidentally brushed against my shoulder as I passed her nail polish to her a few hours ago. Anyway, I was trying to get comfortable the whole way (squished between Evan's skateboard he "lost" and Scott's surfboard he practically abandoned) until the jeep suddenly stopped and the trunk suddenly opened.
It was LeBeau.
"Putain! Get out!!" he yelled as I stumbled out, hitting my ankle against the hood and landing on my hands. He closed the trunk and pulled me to my feet. Then He cussed me out in French and asked what I was doing. Of course I couldn't tell him I was spying on him on behalf of Jean - that would be just a teeny bit awkward. I just said I was looking for something when I fell in. He didn't believe me.
Well, it wasn't that convincing of a story.
So then he tells me it wasn't safe where we were so I had to follow him around the block. He then opened his trench coat and pulled out a small box, which he shook out and inflated into some sort of table. Then he sat on a rotting brick wall and laid out a row of cards in front of me and explained that there were lots of people just standing around with loads of cash and nothing better to do.
So begun his night of card playing.
I watched in the back while others joined the circle. Remy played four rounds of poker and blackjack each - winning everything from Rolexs to dimond rings, even to one guy's martimony band. A grand total of eight people and everytime Remy won. It kinda makes you wonder if he were cheating or if he were the real thing. It was about six in the morn when Remy finally deflated the table and neatly packed it away into his pocket.
"So," he said, huffing. A perfect air cloud formed between us, "let's go home."
But before we could, a group of guys stopped us. Told us we had to give up the money cuz they knew we were fakes. We were cheaters. Or at least Remy was. I was about to take my gloves off when Remy gave me the pillow case with the stash.
"Run," he ordered softly and strictly. I tried to argue but he didn't want any of it. So I ran and they ran after me. The night was filled with explosions and fire but I still could hear them running after me. Cussing, I dove behind the X jeep and threw the stash inside. Remy was right behind me, explosions igniting. The guys were no where close when we drove off. Smart for Remy, he had taken off the license plates and hid them inside the jeep. So that was it. He parked the jeep, replaced the plates and we stalked into the mansion. Time for school.
5 p.m.
Jubilation told me she needed some help on her French antique project. Something about going down to Clairemont's tomorrow. And she asked for me to come along since I knew the place better than she did.
Well then, we'll see tomorrow.
November 26
I changed into some fresh clothes after school and made my way downstairs where Jubes was waiting. She scorned me for taking up her "precious" time and pulled me by the wrist down to the garage... where LeBeau awaited.
I asked what was he doing here, and she explained he could speak French.
"I do too!" I declared. Then Remy asked for me to say something in the language.
I knew I shudda paid attention in that class. So we loaded ourselves into the jeep and drove off.
Clairemont's is this Frenchy plaza where rich people like to dine and buy and where people like us (or I should say of the likes of us) like to grab a cup of coffee and sit under these laced umbrellas while in wicker furniture.
I hate the place, really. I think if they could, they'd paint the place pink. That's it, just pink. It's actually a place where Jean would hang. But of course the wicker and everything else is white, which is why I complied.
When we arrived there, Jubes jumped on the chance to visit a store with tinted windows that said, "Antiques". It was pricey, so we had to leave. They were stupid things to sell too - they had this one thing with this fancy French name that I forgot, with snails glued to parchment. The man said it was a 'modern masterpiece'. I said the 'artist' didn't have anything else to do but glue escargot to paper and call it 'art'. The man scoffed and Jubes laughed. Remy, who was off to the side, smirked and turned away to grin.
When we got out, Jubes said that she wanted to check out the next store (I think it was called Merde. I wonder why), and I said I'd wait outside. Remy said he wanted to try the coffee and opened his wallet, gave Jubes a few twenties and told her to knock herself out. She smiled and ran inside.
"What was that about?" I asked Remy, following him to the coffee shop across the square. He looked at me, the mild wind blowing at the collar of his trench coat.
"About what? The money or me giving the money?" I thought about it. Both looked doubtful. I didn't answer and we entered the small cafe.
The walls were painted blue with green vines stretching across the front. The smell of grounded coffee beans was strong in the air - the aroma tantilizing. I can smell it 'til now.
"You drink?" Remy asked me.
"Who doesn't?" I answered. He looked at me through his contact lenses (they were grey today) and ordered two mochas. When we went to the condiments, I poured the hazlenut powder so that it made an ant hill on my drink - my favorite thing in the world is just piling powder. A coffee worker started cursing me in French because of it and I ran out of there with the powder still in my hands. Remy followed afterwards and walked with me to one of the lacey umbrellas where we sat opposite each other. We didn't speak until Remy said, "You always do dat?"
"Do what?" I asked, absent-mindly.
"Pour powder until de stingy owner yells you out of de cafe?"
"Sure, why not?" I answered, still mesmerized on my drink. Each time I sipped, I added more powder. Remy watched me with a hint of amusement.
"What?" I asked, angrily. He jumped, as if been burned.
"Watching you be a crime too?" he asked, calming himself. I frowned so as to make him feel uneasy but to no affect. Then he looked down and traced the blue imprint of a flower on the cup before him with his finger. "I didn't think you'd be talkin' ta me again," he said, as if out of place. I sipped and poured, ignoring his comment. "Becuz I thought.."
I forgot to mention that on Tuesdays and Thursdays, there's this accordion player that comes to your table and sings while he plays. You're supposed to give him a tip after his song, and some people come to Clairemont's just to hear him. He's okay - I haven't exactly heard him until today.
Well, he starts making his way to our table while Remy was talking, and he's singing this really high song while playing it on his accordion. He stops in front of the railing that runs along a running man-made brook (it's supposed to make Clairemont's romantic) and continues singing. Well, he suddenly sings this really high note and Remy, apparently fed up, grabs my powder and throws it at the guy. He gets hit (and whether it be from the impact or shock I still don't know) and then falls over the railing and into the brook, accordion and all.
Hilarious. Absolutely hilarious.
People around us got up and gathered around the railing to see their beloved accordion player raise from the brook all wet, yelling French and Italian curses at them and at the 'guy over there' (and he knows a lot of them curses too). But Remy doesn't seem to take notice and continues to talk.
"Because I thought you's be still mad at me."
"Remy, I think other people would be mad at you right at the moment," I told him, as we both rose and ran into 'Merde'. Jubes had found a mirror that the owner claimed was an antique and had just finished purchasing it, so we took her and ran all the way to the jeep, away from the angry mob around the square.
I'd just like to say we got out of there in perfect time - I swear they were passing out pitchforks that they probably had stashed in the back somewhere for a squabble like this right before we rolled out of their parking lot. Then when we got out of the car, Jubes tripped and broke the mirror. She started to cry so Remy said he'd piece it back together, though I don't see how he could, being that it IS an antique and all.
But whatever. I had fun. I hate to say it, but Jean should really separate from Remy more often.
November 27
Damn, she's back. She returned before I got home, and then when I did, she said she got me something from Washington. It was a shirt that said Washington.
Thrilled I am. NOt.
Oh, and Remy replaced the mirror so now Jubes is happy.
It's starting to rain.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________
Response to Reviews:
AJ: I think the best way to visualize a rose blanket would be ivy woven into each other and roses woven into it so the heads rise over the foilage. Does that help?
Klucky: Ripping of the glass. Hmm. It's the shrill sound that the glass door makes when you fling it open violently. I think it makes a ripping noise that is really made with wheels not glass, but it's a glass door so it kinda makes sense. I know, explaining it has confused me also.
Sujakata: Hehehe. By this story, do you really think I even have a fiber in my body that likes Scott? I'd like to thank whoever made up his character - which we all love to hate. Also, what you said about Morwen - well let's just say I wouldn't have said it cuz I have no guts ~.^ And Never underestimate those Pantene Pro-v commericals. I bet if you ask, that's what Jean uses (though I don't know how you would). And seriously, it DOES blind people. Trust me on that.
Erica: In chapter One, Rogue compares herself to toilet paper, and since Remy read her diary, he knows about that. Him saying "Toilet paper is not reuseable!" implies to her diary, so it's like an inside joke that permits rivalry between Remy and Rogue. Kinda makes you wonder if they'd ever end up together ^.^
FuryGrrl: Hmph. Interesting. I think the fact is, I protray this story to a sense where it might seem unrealistic, and yet on the basis is specifically true. I know, people want to see what they protray on the Evo show, but this is a perspective where Rogue is *human* (persay) and it's like relating people in your own life to the people in hers. This, in a sense, is deeper than Evo. Jean and Scott do give some umph into the picture, but for once wouldn't you like to see how not so good they are? Evo shows it, but you know there's gotta be something more. Bashing and dense as my story may seem (or is), there is a truth behind it all.
Everyone who has reviewed for Ch. 3 & 4: Everything Remy does is for a reason! (I think I'll include that in some latter chapter) So don't freak out when Remy does something out of the blue or seems stupid enough to actually pull it through. It all works out in the end; trust him. And thank you for reviewing! The fact that you ARE reviewing keeps me writing! If you weren't to review, then I wouldn't know people read it, and thus it would stop my writing. So thank you again!
BTW: Don't expect Rogue/Remy just yet, unless you don't want a second 'book' (which I hope you do!)
Today, Jean came and sat in front of me at Lunch. Ritzy was serving detention (yet again) so I was all alone.
And doing just fine too.
Jean asked me how was life like she was some physcotherapist or something, with a wry look on her crimped face. I gave her a disturbed look, hoping she'd go away, but she just sat there, gaping at the food before me.
"Just peachy," I lied, stuffing the rest of the sandwich I was eating into my mouth. Then she stared at my chewing, as if my munching actually mattered.
Of course I knew she wanted something. It's not everyday you see Miss Popular, that's-my-real-hair-color come sit with a freak like me. Oh no. This day was different. Jean wanted something. From me. Xavier must be proud.
Then Jean said," Rogue? Is that a new hairdo? Cuz I swear it wasn't like that a week ago..."
I remembered frowning. She was certainly acting pretty much like Scott when he asked to use me to get to her.
I wondered if this was any different.
"Cut the crap, Grey," I told her, and she put a hand to her throat as if shocked that I said a cuss word in a 150 mi radius from her, "whaddya want?"
She looked annoyed, but said anyway, "Well, you know, I was asked to speak at this conference at Washington for mutants," she said all spiffy.
"No," I said, breaking her off. She pretended that I knew though and did the obscene - she started picking at my food.
That meant she was nervous about something.
"And I'd be gone for like, what? It's not a complete week.. I'll be back before Thanksgiving...oh how do I put this?"
"Four days?" I suggested, forcing myself to speak. Jean gave an ebullient nod, her mouth full of my food.
"Yeah, that's it! Gosh, Rogue, you could be so smart sometimes, ya know?" she said, and continued picking at my food. She didn't even look to see if I was disgusted.
"Jean, where is this going?" I asked mildly. She stopped picking at my food.
"Well, um, you see... I need a small favor," she said. I watched as she clawed out bits of bread under her perfectly manicured nails. It wasn't as amusing as it sounds.
Then she said, "I need you to watch Remy when I'm gone."
I laughed a no and frowned. "What is this really about, Jean? You don't trust your boyfriend?" I slurred the last word to show mockery. She didn't seem to notice.
"Well, no, I should, huh?" Great answer. I huffed my response.
"Why're you asking me?" Silence. Then I caught Jean's glance and followed it to my gloves. "My powers." It made sense. I wouldn't be able to touch him for lust. Perfect for Jean to use.
Jean sprung at the chance. "So would you?"
I picked up my tray and headed for the trash can. She followed. "Please Rogue? You don't even have to come near him! Just watch him for me, please!" she begged. I was and still am thoroughly disgusted.
"Jean, he's not a dog. He doesn't need a leash to for you to tug him to where he needs to go," I said, throwing away my trash.
"No, he's my boyfriend," she said so defensively I wanted to laugh. But her seriousness struck me. She wasn't kidding.
"He doesn't need to be reminded. He loves you." The words rolled off my tongue. Jean looked sullen.
"I know." She put her head down and looked away sadly. I sighed, far as I could remember.
"Fine. I'll watch your damn boyfriend," I mumbled. She immediately brightened.
"Thank you!" She took a step forward to hug me but I pushed the tray into her.
"Don't."
"Right," she said, pulling her shirt down, "see you later then."
Good grief. Why can't I ever say no for a change? The toilet paper comes back into play, and so soon, so soon.
November 23
Ding dong! The witch is Gone!! I've made up a dance just to celebrate! Okay, not really but hey, she's GONE!!
I watched her go this morning. Remy was loading her luggages (she has four. I guess one for everyday) into her new SUV that Xavier gave to her. I guess he wanted a kiss but she jumped into the vehicle, claiming loudly that she'd be late for her plane. Then she rolled down the window, blew a kiss to Remy shouting, "I love you!", and drove out of the gate. She almost missed the turn, nearly heading into a rock, then swerved and was out of sight.
Thus her departure which begins my spying.
6:30 p.m.
Remy came home from school and locked himself in his room. This could be eaiser than I thought.
November 24
Okay. There is something VERY wrong going on here!
REMY IS GONE!!!
I was bringing juice and cookies to him after school (so I could see if he had another girl in there with him), when I knocked and his door just opened. I looked in and went by his bed. He had made a make-shift person with pillows under his stupid covers!
Well, I'll be off. I bet he's downtown looking for a hooker. God, the things I do. And I claim I have a life.
10 p.m.
Well I found Remy. In his ROOM!!
He obviously snuck off and returned when I was out looking for him. And since it's like close to winter, the air was freaking chilly and my nose could've practically fallen off when I got home. I opened his stupid door and looked to see him in there. He turned, saw me, and threw a card. I closed the door just when it went KA BOOM! And I've confined myself by the fire next to you ever since.
11 p.m.
I can't sleep. I decided to stay in the living room since it's much warmer than in that cell I must call a room.
I swear, it's colder than hell in there.
November 25, 1 a.m.
I hear footsteps.
1:11 a.m.
Okay. I have confirmed it's Remy. Let's see what he's doing up so late.
5:30 a.m.
This has been unmistakenly one hellva morning.
But I'm so freakin tired it's not even funny.
I snuck into the trunk of the X Jeep using the leftover powers of Kitty after she accidentally brushed against my shoulder as I passed her nail polish to her a few hours ago. Anyway, I was trying to get comfortable the whole way (squished between Evan's skateboard he "lost" and Scott's surfboard he practically abandoned) until the jeep suddenly stopped and the trunk suddenly opened.
It was LeBeau.
"Putain! Get out!!" he yelled as I stumbled out, hitting my ankle against the hood and landing on my hands. He closed the trunk and pulled me to my feet. Then He cussed me out in French and asked what I was doing. Of course I couldn't tell him I was spying on him on behalf of Jean - that would be just a teeny bit awkward. I just said I was looking for something when I fell in. He didn't believe me.
Well, it wasn't that convincing of a story.
So then he tells me it wasn't safe where we were so I had to follow him around the block. He then opened his trench coat and pulled out a small box, which he shook out and inflated into some sort of table. Then he sat on a rotting brick wall and laid out a row of cards in front of me and explained that there were lots of people just standing around with loads of cash and nothing better to do.
So begun his night of card playing.
I watched in the back while others joined the circle. Remy played four rounds of poker and blackjack each - winning everything from Rolexs to dimond rings, even to one guy's martimony band. A grand total of eight people and everytime Remy won. It kinda makes you wonder if he were cheating or if he were the real thing. It was about six in the morn when Remy finally deflated the table and neatly packed it away into his pocket.
"So," he said, huffing. A perfect air cloud formed between us, "let's go home."
But before we could, a group of guys stopped us. Told us we had to give up the money cuz they knew we were fakes. We were cheaters. Or at least Remy was. I was about to take my gloves off when Remy gave me the pillow case with the stash.
"Run," he ordered softly and strictly. I tried to argue but he didn't want any of it. So I ran and they ran after me. The night was filled with explosions and fire but I still could hear them running after me. Cussing, I dove behind the X jeep and threw the stash inside. Remy was right behind me, explosions igniting. The guys were no where close when we drove off. Smart for Remy, he had taken off the license plates and hid them inside the jeep. So that was it. He parked the jeep, replaced the plates and we stalked into the mansion. Time for school.
5 p.m.
Jubilation told me she needed some help on her French antique project. Something about going down to Clairemont's tomorrow. And she asked for me to come along since I knew the place better than she did.
Well then, we'll see tomorrow.
November 26
I changed into some fresh clothes after school and made my way downstairs where Jubes was waiting. She scorned me for taking up her "precious" time and pulled me by the wrist down to the garage... where LeBeau awaited.
I asked what was he doing here, and she explained he could speak French.
"I do too!" I declared. Then Remy asked for me to say something in the language.
I knew I shudda paid attention in that class. So we loaded ourselves into the jeep and drove off.
Clairemont's is this Frenchy plaza where rich people like to dine and buy and where people like us (or I should say of the likes of us) like to grab a cup of coffee and sit under these laced umbrellas while in wicker furniture.
I hate the place, really. I think if they could, they'd paint the place pink. That's it, just pink. It's actually a place where Jean would hang. But of course the wicker and everything else is white, which is why I complied.
When we arrived there, Jubes jumped on the chance to visit a store with tinted windows that said, "Antiques". It was pricey, so we had to leave. They were stupid things to sell too - they had this one thing with this fancy French name that I forgot, with snails glued to parchment. The man said it was a 'modern masterpiece'. I said the 'artist' didn't have anything else to do but glue escargot to paper and call it 'art'. The man scoffed and Jubes laughed. Remy, who was off to the side, smirked and turned away to grin.
When we got out, Jubes said that she wanted to check out the next store (I think it was called Merde. I wonder why), and I said I'd wait outside. Remy said he wanted to try the coffee and opened his wallet, gave Jubes a few twenties and told her to knock herself out. She smiled and ran inside.
"What was that about?" I asked Remy, following him to the coffee shop across the square. He looked at me, the mild wind blowing at the collar of his trench coat.
"About what? The money or me giving the money?" I thought about it. Both looked doubtful. I didn't answer and we entered the small cafe.
The walls were painted blue with green vines stretching across the front. The smell of grounded coffee beans was strong in the air - the aroma tantilizing. I can smell it 'til now.
"You drink?" Remy asked me.
"Who doesn't?" I answered. He looked at me through his contact lenses (they were grey today) and ordered two mochas. When we went to the condiments, I poured the hazlenut powder so that it made an ant hill on my drink - my favorite thing in the world is just piling powder. A coffee worker started cursing me in French because of it and I ran out of there with the powder still in my hands. Remy followed afterwards and walked with me to one of the lacey umbrellas where we sat opposite each other. We didn't speak until Remy said, "You always do dat?"
"Do what?" I asked, absent-mindly.
"Pour powder until de stingy owner yells you out of de cafe?"
"Sure, why not?" I answered, still mesmerized on my drink. Each time I sipped, I added more powder. Remy watched me with a hint of amusement.
"What?" I asked, angrily. He jumped, as if been burned.
"Watching you be a crime too?" he asked, calming himself. I frowned so as to make him feel uneasy but to no affect. Then he looked down and traced the blue imprint of a flower on the cup before him with his finger. "I didn't think you'd be talkin' ta me again," he said, as if out of place. I sipped and poured, ignoring his comment. "Becuz I thought.."
I forgot to mention that on Tuesdays and Thursdays, there's this accordion player that comes to your table and sings while he plays. You're supposed to give him a tip after his song, and some people come to Clairemont's just to hear him. He's okay - I haven't exactly heard him until today.
Well, he starts making his way to our table while Remy was talking, and he's singing this really high song while playing it on his accordion. He stops in front of the railing that runs along a running man-made brook (it's supposed to make Clairemont's romantic) and continues singing. Well, he suddenly sings this really high note and Remy, apparently fed up, grabs my powder and throws it at the guy. He gets hit (and whether it be from the impact or shock I still don't know) and then falls over the railing and into the brook, accordion and all.
Hilarious. Absolutely hilarious.
People around us got up and gathered around the railing to see their beloved accordion player raise from the brook all wet, yelling French and Italian curses at them and at the 'guy over there' (and he knows a lot of them curses too). But Remy doesn't seem to take notice and continues to talk.
"Because I thought you's be still mad at me."
"Remy, I think other people would be mad at you right at the moment," I told him, as we both rose and ran into 'Merde'. Jubes had found a mirror that the owner claimed was an antique and had just finished purchasing it, so we took her and ran all the way to the jeep, away from the angry mob around the square.
I'd just like to say we got out of there in perfect time - I swear they were passing out pitchforks that they probably had stashed in the back somewhere for a squabble like this right before we rolled out of their parking lot. Then when we got out of the car, Jubes tripped and broke the mirror. She started to cry so Remy said he'd piece it back together, though I don't see how he could, being that it IS an antique and all.
But whatever. I had fun. I hate to say it, but Jean should really separate from Remy more often.
November 27
Damn, she's back. She returned before I got home, and then when I did, she said she got me something from Washington. It was a shirt that said Washington.
Thrilled I am. NOt.
Oh, and Remy replaced the mirror so now Jubes is happy.
It's starting to rain.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________
Response to Reviews:
AJ: I think the best way to visualize a rose blanket would be ivy woven into each other and roses woven into it so the heads rise over the foilage. Does that help?
Klucky: Ripping of the glass. Hmm. It's the shrill sound that the glass door makes when you fling it open violently. I think it makes a ripping noise that is really made with wheels not glass, but it's a glass door so it kinda makes sense. I know, explaining it has confused me also.
Sujakata: Hehehe. By this story, do you really think I even have a fiber in my body that likes Scott? I'd like to thank whoever made up his character - which we all love to hate. Also, what you said about Morwen - well let's just say I wouldn't have said it cuz I have no guts ~.^ And Never underestimate those Pantene Pro-v commericals. I bet if you ask, that's what Jean uses (though I don't know how you would). And seriously, it DOES blind people. Trust me on that.
Erica: In chapter One, Rogue compares herself to toilet paper, and since Remy read her diary, he knows about that. Him saying "Toilet paper is not reuseable!" implies to her diary, so it's like an inside joke that permits rivalry between Remy and Rogue. Kinda makes you wonder if they'd ever end up together ^.^
FuryGrrl: Hmph. Interesting. I think the fact is, I protray this story to a sense where it might seem unrealistic, and yet on the basis is specifically true. I know, people want to see what they protray on the Evo show, but this is a perspective where Rogue is *human* (persay) and it's like relating people in your own life to the people in hers. This, in a sense, is deeper than Evo. Jean and Scott do give some umph into the picture, but for once wouldn't you like to see how not so good they are? Evo shows it, but you know there's gotta be something more. Bashing and dense as my story may seem (or is), there is a truth behind it all.
Everyone who has reviewed for Ch. 3 & 4: Everything Remy does is for a reason! (I think I'll include that in some latter chapter) So don't freak out when Remy does something out of the blue or seems stupid enough to actually pull it through. It all works out in the end; trust him. And thank you for reviewing! The fact that you ARE reviewing keeps me writing! If you weren't to review, then I wouldn't know people read it, and thus it would stop my writing. So thank you again!
BTW: Don't expect Rogue/Remy just yet, unless you don't want a second 'book' (which I hope you do!)