Disclaimer : Just messing with these people. Do not own.
AN: Thanks to all my reviewers. Thee is nothing better then thinking, ok, well that's the last of the reviews, and then one stray review comes a while later. A real motivator!
The tone is changed in this chapter. Her pain is thawing. So the style is slightly lighter and not as depressing as the last chapter. And this one is better edited.
For the Sour.Skittles.
Last Time
'HOW COULD YOU JUST-just change you're life for me? I asked, stunned.
Now he looked positively queasy.
'Maybe for hope that one day you'd change yours for me.' He said it so quietly I almost didn't hear him.
Almost.
And that is when I knew that there was no justice in this world.
Even a fairytale could change, even the prince could turn beast.
And, I was starting to realize, as I looked at Paul, even the beast, for the sake of love…could turn prince.
Present Time Two Days After Mid-Life Crisis
Ok, so I totally freaked when I finally found it. I mean, we had been apartment-hunting for ages and ages and I was beginning to think that I would never, NEVER find an apartment that wasn't a studio but with one bedroom, a coffee shop nearby, my office nearby, Paul's place nearby (don't look at me, he insisted), AND fitting my budget.
But I did. Or, I should say, Paul did.
It was a cozy, typical Manhattan style apartment building. And I could get the lease on it straight away.
I inspected the inner rooms while Paul talked to the landlord, Jim. It wasn't huge, but it would do.
The kitchen was so small maybe four people would fit, and that would be squeeze. There was a living room, which admittedly was quite spacious. And there was just one bedroom where I'd try and squash my double bed- I mean, some new furniture.
Because my previous bed had been a king size. That I had shared with Jesse…
Along with a flat screen TV, 6-DVD Player, A Top-notch kitchen, and a special room that we called the study where Jesse and I used to crash in after our long exhausting days.
Past tense. Ouch. That hurt.
'STOP it Suze! Thinking like this is just gonna hurt you more instead of helping you heal', said a voice deep in my consciousness. I kid you not.
ARRGH! What kind of inner voice is this? A shrink?! Now even my own brain is against me! I'm losing all my sanity!!
…Not that I had much left to start with, anyways.
But I refuse to even let my mind boss me around. I'm a mature professional adult now, thank you very much. I have dealt with a break-up between me and the love of life quite well, If I do say so myself.
Shut up. The bit where I got wasted doesn't count.
So I am perfectly capable of dealing with the problem of the voice in my head maturely and with dignity.
If I want to think about Jesse, there's nothing you can do to stop me!!! HE left ME, remember? So, duh, I'm still in love incase you've forgotten! I defy you! So…hah! I yelled at the annoying little voice. In my head, no less.
Right, Suze, great job. Why don't you just go ahead and have an argument with yourself, huh?
I so need help.
I finished my inspection of my-soon-to-be apartment and walked back to Paul. He looked at me all satisfied.
'I got you a great rent,' He whispered conspiratorially, behind the landlord's back. (What's that you say? You want a description of my pot-bellied landlord who has absolutely no fashion sense at All? I mean, come on, a pale green shirt with a tie which looked puked on? Trust me, you don't. Want a description, I mean.)
'How much?' I whispered back.
He told me. I nearly fell when he told me. I would have fallen straight onto the maroon carpet in the hallway and totally gotten carpet burns if Paul hadn't caught me.
Paul really came through for me, I swear. I mean with the rent thing and the fact he saved me from carpet burns.
And no, I didn't really feel anything when his his muscular tanned arm shot out and steadied me by the shoulders, with no effort at all. Or when he looked at me all smirky and said 'Jeez, Simon, watch where you're going.'
Nope. Nothing. Really!
I was about to retaliate when the door of the apartment next to mine opened, and a man with a small dalmation walked out.
And well that kinda diverted me because…
He was HOT. I mean it. He was kind of tall, taller then Paul, but not TOO tall. Kind of like a big bear. A big cuddly bear. Sigh…and that's not all - he had shaggy black hair, which kept covering his eyes, an added plus point. Really, really cute.
He had this kind of just-got-out-of-bed-don't-bug-me kind of look. And yes, I'm proud to say I noticed all of this when the three of us were waiting for the elevator. See? My boss is wrong. I am observant. Just not when a senior management boss walks right in and I mistake him for the new electrician.
What? They both wear blue suits! Ugh. Give me a hottie anyday.
When the elevator finally reached the 11th floor, it was a little awkward with all of us trying to cram in. Especially with "Shaggy's" dalmation. We all kind of stood in the four different corners. Me and Shaggy were beside the elevator doors, and Paul and Pot Belly leaned against the gilted mirror. The elevator was kinda shabby with this faded maroon wallpaper and soft music which wouldn't have been out of place in a haunted mansion.
I can see that changes will be made…by me, of course. Yup, I have plans for this place.
Unhh…is it just me or it Shaggy watching me in the mirror underneath his impossibly long lashes? It's that or he's scrutinizing Pot Belly.
Well, I don't think he's doing that. At least, I hope not.
Suddenly, while I was musing about Shaggy, his dalmation leaped up in front of me, and I admit it, I kinda shrieked in fright. Hey, you would too.
But it turned out the dog was harmless; the big cutie smooochy-poochie (the dog, NOT the owner. Just clearing that up) just licked my whole hand.
'Whoa boy, easy there,' I said, laughing a little. I shook my hands trying unsuccessfully to get the slobber off me.
The Shaggy guy managed to grab hold of the dog's collar. 'Sorry about that,' He said, his voice all low, not really meeting my eyes.
I flashed him my best smile. 'It's no problem at all.' He gave me a shy smile. The landlord, Mr Bradley, made a sound like he was gagging on something in his throat.
Unbelievable, the rudeness of some people…
Paul must have noticed too, because he was standing firmly planted on two feet, his hands crossed, stonily watching the numbers flick by on the electronic screen thingy.
As if he couldn't wait to get out of there.
'We'll give you a call.' He muttered to Pot Belly, pushed in front of Shaggy and the Scooby and practically hauled me by the elbow out of there before I could so much as ask Shaggy what his name was.
I swear, I do so not get him sometimes.
Later that same day
Back at his flat we each opened a can of beer and sprawled out on his couches. I was beat…but at least I found a home. On a Sunday, no less.
Somehow, though, I didn't feel as victorious as I had before.
It all seemed rather pointless. I was as dry emotionally as a sponge in the sun, I was staying in a seedy hotel, and, from now on, I am officially friendless. Because all of Jesse's friends were….well, Jesse's friends, not really mine. And besides, hanging out with them would be just plain weird.
Well, I'm nice right? Except for the occasional tantrum and bitchy attack, I'm a nice person. I think. Hmm, if I'm so nice, why did Jesse leave me?
No. No, he didn't, he just speeded up the inevitable. Yeah, that's right, we're just not meant to be. And I'll make my own new friends. How hard can it be?
I'll show Jesse, I thought viciously as I downed the rest of the beer in one gulp. I don't need him.
Who needs a hot Latino guy who can practically read you're mind? Who gets me? Who understands the way I work? Respects the way I prefer to kick ghost butt on my own? I don't. Nope, not me. I'm over him already.
'So, Suze, want to get out here for a while?' Paul said from his bean bag, eyeing my beer can apprehensively. I bet he heard the sloshing around in the practically empty can.
'Why?' I snapped.
'Well…it's a beautiful day. We can…go…out..' He finished lamely, and then jumped up.
'Hey, I have the greatest idea ever!' He said in a bad attempt to look excited. Doesn't work on me, Paul, I thought grimly. I knew what he was trying to do.
'I know what you're trying to do, you know, and it won't work.' I said boredly.
He raised an eyebrow. 'Oh really? What if I said all I'm trying to do is convince you to come with me to my club for a game of tennis, huh? I'll teach you and I have a spare racket.' He said, smirking and looking pleased with himself for getting out of the awkward situation.
Something told me he wasn't exactly used dealing with girls who'd just been divorced, drunk, very hung over and hung up on her ex.
But as soon as he mentioned tennis, my cheeks began to heat up.
Unhh, this is not good. This was - was worse then Jesse! He hadn't just read my mind, he'd just exposed my greatest fear!
I probably sound crazy right about now.
I knew I was definitely crazy when 30 minutes later I found myself in Paul's car, in shorts and a polo shirt (we stopped by the hotel. Thank god I'd be outta there, the hotel I mean.) on the way to Paul's - no doubt - posh country club.
We reached the parking lot and I nervously thought…he'll find out any minute now…
He signed my name in the guest form at the reception. Susannah Simon.
I had a sudden vision of me in college, late at night in my dorm, writing over and over again over my notebook, Susannah De Silva, over and over again…
I mentally shook myself and followed him outside. His club was posh and refined; the kind where rich country club wives met over Sunday brunch and gossiped about the latest scandal. There were six tennis courts, and four of them were taken. Paul led me to one pretty much isolated from the rest.
I guess he thought I'd need the space for all the balls I served off course.
'Ok, well, I'll just give you some easy shots, just hit them back using you're right hand, like this, is called forehand -'
'Paul, I pretty much know how to play.' I said tersely.
'Oh – alright then, let's play.' He said looking taken aback.
We served and I rallied back. Back and forth, back and forth. I began to relax a little, losing my self with the rhythm. Finally after about forty-five minutes we stopped for water.
'Suze, where did you learn to play?' Asked Paul, truly surprised. 'And so good, I mean your backhand is damn awesome!' He said in awe.
'I – unhh – I just – felt like taking lessons.' I mumbled quietly, taking a long gulp and hiding my face from him.
It didn't work. He was just too damn fast; he jumped to conclusions so fast, but unfortunately this time they were the right conclusions.
He narrowed his eyes and swiveled me around by the shoulders. I choked on my water. 'When did you begin, Suze? When did you start playing?' He said, his eyes boring into mine. I spluttered, 'None of your business, Paul!'
'Oh c'mon, there must be some reason why, all of a sudden you began to learn, huh?' He said, a grin beginning to form on his face.
'Oh shut up,' I snapped, blushing furiously now.
'Hmm…are you sure it's not because...'He pretended to think. 'You wanted to be like a certain someone? You wanted to feel…somehow linked with this certain someone?' He mused out loud, knowing how much it was driving me nuts.
'Ok, FINE, so I took lessons to see what you liked so much about it, ok?' I burst out. STUPID STUPID STUPID. 'I just wanted to see what the great mighty Paul Slater, badass all around, actually enjoyed doing, is that such a bad thing?' I was so red by know that I could feel the heat bouncing off my skin.
This was so embarrassing. I hadn't meant to tell anyone about my real reason to learn tennis. Jesse hadn't minded when I said I wanted to learn, just shrugged and helped me find a good coach.
'Oh no, it's not a bad thing at all.' Said Paul. He leaned closer to me, and I could see sweat droplets clinging t his skin, and his hair plastered all over his forehead. Somehow he still managed to look hot. He leaned up close to me, right there next to the water cooler, and whispered next to my ear, 'In fact, I'm touched you still thought of me during all this time. I would have never believed –' He paused there, hesitating, confusion over his face and, after a moment of hesistaion and - longing? - pulled back.
My heart was pounding. OH please, don't pull away, one part of my brain said. The other part wanted to run, far far away.
After that no one of mentioned where I'd learned tennis. He looked kind of shy and he kept stealing small glances at me, like trying to figure something out.
As for me, I pretty much remained silent and wondered the whole time…why was Paul so different? He was much less, well, horny, he wasn't as rude, he just…cared more, y'know? Maybe it was because he respected the fact that I was trying so very hard not to fall apart, trying to put up this farce that nothing is wrong, but really, I'm dying inside. Maybe he understands. Understands how I miss Jesse so incredible much, how much I feel like a puppy kicked out of a home…
Wow. Intense analysis of Suze Simon's pathetic love life. Meh.
What felt like hours later, we headed back to his car, arguing just like the way we used to. About music, no less.
'Really Suze. Jesse's made you soft.' He smirked, ignoring my flinch at hearing Jesse's name. 'Never thought you'd be the one to listen to Red Hot Chilli Peppers.'
'It's Jesse's favourite band!' I defended him. Hey, they're good, just not hardcore, so what?
'What do you listen to, emo music?' I challenged. Then I realized the ridiculous-ness of what I'd said and we both burst out laughing.
We reached his Mustang and he opened the door for me.
'M'lady', He said.
Wow. Déjà vu.
I smiled softly at him. 'Thanks'. I lightly punched him on the arm. 'For…everything. For…well, you know what I mean.' He just stood there with his hands in his pockets and his ears turned kind of crimson.
'No problem, babe.' He gave me a half-hearted smile, and suddenly I got the feeling that he was so much older then me. Strange.
He slid into the driver's seat and said, 'Well you see, someone's gotta be nice to you, seeing as Jesse has corrupted you. I mean, jeez, you were humming Pink in the shower this morning, you know.' He said, smugly grinning. I stuck my tongue out at him.
Scratch that. He isn't mature at ALL. And err, neither am I.
'And how would you know what I was singing in the shower if I was humming?' I asked nastily. He turned red and stuttered something but I didn't let him finish.
'Don't worry Paul, why don't you just go home and listen to the Paris Hilton CD I found under your bed, huh? I said smugly.
He looked at me in horror. 'Oh crap! Suze! Its-it's not what you th-! Damn, that's low even for you!' He said grumpily. He turned red enough to make a lobster jealous.
Gotcha!
Ha. I so rock. I think.
Simon : 1
Slater : 2
A/N: Well now, I didn't take too long to update, did I? I'm not sure what the length of this story is going to be, but it's way too long (the plot, I mean) to be a one shot. So this will probably be some kind of short story thingy, with multiple chapters.
Thanks for reading, feedback are appreciated more then compliments, and I hope you had a great Halloween!
Xoxox.Jyocka.xoxoX