A/N: I was rereading this. Phyllis makes me laugh.
Turn around
Every now and then
I get a little bit lonely
And you're never coming 'round
Turn around
Ever now and then
I get a little bit tired
Of listening to the sound of my tears
Turn around
Every now and then
I get a little bit nervous
That the best of all the years have gone by
Turn around
Every now and then
I get a little bit terrified
And then I see the look in your eyes
Turn around bright eyes
Every now and then I fall apart
Turn around bright eyes
Every now and then I fall apart
Turn around
Every now and then
I get a little bit restless
And I dream of something wild
Turn around
Every now and then
I get a little bit helpless
And I'm lying like a child in your arms
Turn around
Every now and then
I get a little bit angry
And I know I've got to get out and cry
Turn around
Every now and then
I get a little bit terrified
But then I see the look in your eyes
Turn around bright eyes
Every now and then I fall apart
Turn around bright eyes
Every now and then I fall apart
And I need you now tonight
And I need you more than ever
And if you'll only hold me tight
We'll be holding on forever
And we'll only be making it right
'Cause we'll never be wrong together
We can take it to the end of the line
Your love is like a shadow on me all the time
I don't know what to do
But I'm always in the dark
We're living in a powder keg
And it's giving off sparks
I really need you tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight
Yes, I was just singing Bonnie Tyler in my car…while I was on the way to pick up Alana from Phyllis's prison of death.
I should probably take this CD out of my stereo before I get to the clinic. She already thinks I'm a strange guy. I don't need to give her another reason to make fun of me. I make fun of myself enough.
And I'm sure she'd run and tell Phyllis all about my little "Total Eclipse of the Heart" outburst. Phyllis might be a little old for that song though. She's probably been working in this place for like…ever and hasn't come out of her dungeon.
Maybe if I sign DX's theme, it will cheer the ol' Phyll-bag up. She might get the wrong idea, though.
Okay, I need to see Alana and get that mental image out of my mind now.
Just let me stash this CD in the glove compartment first…
"Oh, it's you, Mr. Punk."
"Oh, it's me, Mist—Ms. Phyllis." Ooh, that was a close one.
She arched her nasty painted on eyebrow at me. I think she caught it. Oops.
"Where are you taking our pride and joy today?"
Hm, haven't thought of that. Shit.
"I don't know. Wherever she wants to go, I guess."
"So you'll be content in strip clubs and smoking bars?"
Did she just say strip clubs? Ooh…
No.
"Uh…"
Phyllis totally just shunned me to the side and phoned Alana's room. They have phones in there? Might someone try to strangle themselves with the cord?
I shouldn't be thinking about that kind of stuff right now.
The way Phyllis makes it sound, I'm going to end up being strangled.
"He's here."
Damn straight, I am.
Alana got here rather quickly. Is she secretly excited to see the Punkaroonie? Ha! Victory is mine!
"You're late."
How do I explain this? Do I tell her I got stuck at a red light next to some gangsters while I was blasting Bonnie Tyler and they heard me so they decided to chase me down with their guns for fabricating their ears with actual musical genius?
"I hit traffic." Nice save.
"Have fun, Alana. Good luck, Mr. Punk," Phyllis said. Hm, maybe she doesn't hate me after all.
"Bye, Phyllis," I said with a cheesy grin and little finger wave. I don't think she found that as adorable as I thought it was. She's looking at me as if I was a dog with three heads.
"So, uh…where do you want to go?" I asked. Hey, I'm not a psychic.
"Punk, what is today?"
"Tuesday."
"So…don't you have a show tonight?"
Shit.
"Yeah, I do. I totally forgot. Did you want to come with me and hangout backstage?"
"Sure. Hey, do you have any tissues or something. I desperately need to blow my nose."
"Yeah, there's some napkins in the glove compartment."
Uh-oh.
She grabbed the CD. No…
"'Punk's Awesome Mix'? What the hell is this?" she asked.
Don't put it in…
She put it in.
And cue the piano.
Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head. Then she started laughing to the point of tears. "You seriously listen to this junk?"
"Bonnie Tyler is not junk!" I had to defend it somehow…
"You know who you remind me of?"
"What?"
"Have you ever seen Harold and Kumar go to White Castle?"
"That movie is amazing."
"You remind me of the 'extreme' punks. You know, they act all hardcore but they listen to eighties chick music when no one's watching."
"Bonnie Tyler is extreme!"
"All you're missing is the Mountain Dew…"
"Aw man, thanks for reminding me, Alana! I need to get some before the show…"
We listened to most of the CD. She even started singing along to the random Bryan Adams I had on there, too.
And she thinks I'm a loser…
"So, um…is everyone nice backstage?" she asked. Ooh, how do I answer that?
"Well, most people are. There's some bitches you have to worry about, like Kelly Kelly."
"She sounds like an idiot."
"She is."
We stopped at a gas station so I could fill up and get some fucking Mountain Dew. Then we headed over to the arena.
"You know, it's been awhile since I brought a girl to a show with me…" Wow, I sounded like a loser.
"Can't get any?"
"That hurt, Alana."
Right when we walked in the arena, all hell broke loose.
"PHIL BROOKS! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"
Um…
I wasn't aware this was a tri-branded show…