*still not mine*

"I know exactly what you're thinking. But I swear this time I won't let you down. I'm not as selfish as I used to be. That was a part of me that never made me proud. Right now I think I would try anything, anything at all to keep you satisfied. God I hope you see what losing you will do to me. All I want is one more chance, so tell me… What do I have to do to make you happy? What do I have to do to make you understand? What do I have to do to make you want me? And if I can't make you want me what do I have to do?" –Stabbing Westward-


Chapter Two:



I still don't get why, out of all the not fucked up assholes, and even the only half way fucked up assholes, in this city, she picked a loser like me. I mean, there's no better way to describe me then; I slept from dawn till dusk, played lousy gigs in hole-in-the-wall bars, fucked anything that came into my path, and spent the rest of the time so smashed off my ass that I couldn't tell you which way was up. Yet, after my shows, she'd always be the one to come up to me and cling to my arm, giving disapproving looks to me and all the people she had to share me with.

She was the one who got me hooked up with Mark and everybody to begin with. Me being the dumb ass that I am, I got myself evicted from the only shoddy, overpriced, one room shit hole I could actually afford and had no fucking clue what I would do, where I would go…

She stumbled away from her desk to answer the pounding on her door. Yanking it open, she smirked slightly and leaned against the door frame, staring up at the sopping wet musician who had all his possessions strapped to his back. "Something the matter, Roge?" she asked nonchalantly, stepping aside so he could squeeze in past her.

He flopped down on her bed, kicking his muddy feet up on the blanket. "I need a place to crash…" He watched her as she retook her seat at the desk, studying every movement she made, the tensing and relaxing of the muscles on her back, the way she fiddled with her hair, until she turned to face him again. "Can I sleep on the floor until I find somewhere?"

She furrowed her brow slightly. "Maureen'll kill me…" she mumbled, tapping her fingers against the top of her word processor as she chewed on her bottom lip. "She was really pissed last time she tripped over you…"

He sat up and slid over to her, batting his eyes in an attempt to be cute. "It'll only be a couple of days, I'll find somewhere to stay real quick. I bet my drummer will let me stay with him. Just gotta track him down first…" He reached over and ran a heavily callused thumb up and down her free hand. "And I can always sleep on the bed… Then she'd trip over you when she came in."

She shook her head and whacked him lightly, then moved over to sit beside him. "Maybe you could talk to her boyfriend, I think he needs another roommate. He always needs new roommates…" She looked over at her clock. "She should be stumbling in a few hours from now." Moving an inch closer to him, she pushed some wet hair out of his face. "You're gonna get sick if you stay in that wet shit all night."

He turned around slightly, pulling his legs up Indian style beneath him. "Warm me up?" he asked, grinning as he put his hands on her shins and pulled her closer to him. When she shivered under his touch, he started to move his hands quickly up and down her bare legs. "Or warm you up, maybe…" he whispered, leaning his face in till it was only inches away from hers. She turned her face as he moved in to kiss her and his lips landing flatly on her cheek. "What?" he groaned, eyeing her as she moved back to her desk chair. He turned around, frowning. "What did I do this time?"

She kept her back facing him as she buried her head in her arms on the table. She felt his hand brush against her back and she jerked away, craning her neck to look at him. "And how long will this last this time? One night, a week?"

He groaned again and fell back on the bed. "Jesus, April!" Frowning, he pulled himself upright, crossing his legs again. "What do you want me to do? I said I was sorry about last time!"

"Sorry that you fucked me, sorry that you fucked that girl the same day or sorry that you got caught?" Her head snapped to the door as it slammed open and Maureen and her four-eyed boyfriend came in. "I think you should go," she whispered, not looking back at him.

"April…" he whispered, reaching for her hand again. When she yanked it away, he sighed and picked at one of his bags. "Where'm I gonna go now?"

She shook her head, then looked over at the newcomers. "Hey, Mark… You still have an empty couch in your place?"

The blond pushed up his glasses and nodded. "Uh, yeah… Collins', uh, boyfriend moved out…"

She pointed at Roger. "Here. Just… get him out of here." She turned around again and stared at her desk.

While Maureen and Mark talked softly amongst themselves, Roger slid over behind her and started to rub her arms lightly. "I'm sorry…" He turned her chair so she was forced to face him and, kneeling down in front of her, rested his chin on her knees, eyes imploring her to forgive him. He dropped his hands onto his own knees. "I'll make you forgive me," he whispered, moving his hands up to squeeze her legs lightly before standing to pick up his stuff from the floor. Watching her for a minute more, he sighed before turning and looking at the other two. "I'm ready," he mumbled, shuffling his feet around as he made his way out the door…

Needless to say, Mark was not too happy to have to take me home with him. I mean, how would you feel if you had planned on getting some quick ass and got sent home with blue balls and some jackass punk?

God, I hated to see her like that.