A/N: I wrote this chapter a little differently on purpose, because I wanted Rob's POV to be very different from Kristen's. When I heard this song, I didn't immediately think, "OHMYGOD! Rob/Kristen song!" but then I started listening more closely and I twisted the lyrics a bit and I almost started crying because it sounded so much like a Rob/Kristen thing! Honest. It was really sad and then I emailed one of my friends and she saw the light too, so I decided to write about it. Lolz. Anyway, enjoy! The next chapter after this one will be the one where Kristen confronts Rob.
As I listened to my iPod, I smiled and got a water from the refrigerator. It was early afternoon and the shuffle setting was a great way to start the 'day'!
I wake up every evening with a big smile on my face…. And it never feels out of place…
I certainly did wake up in the evening. Only because I partied all night with my friends and then crashed for the majority of the morning and afternoon. The All American Rejects certainly had my lifestyle down. The smile did feel out of place, though. It was as fake as the rest of my "happiness" at the moment. Kristen was probably still pissed at me and even if she wasn't, she was all the way across the ocean, which did me no good in the "finding out if she really is pissed" department. I hadn't bothered to get numbers of people on set besides Kris and Catherine, but as the latter was no longer on 'production' calling her would do me no good now.
When you see my face, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell. When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell.
Kris was giving me hell. Not talking.
The fight in Berlin that neither of us had a solution for, and then
her leaving as soon as the promotions were done. Bolting out of the
room, and jetting off on the next flight. I didn't want to give her
hell, but I was in hell, burning… she just didn't understand,
couldn't feel the pain. I slammed down the bottle of water and
stared out the window. She probably never would walk my way again,
save from in a movie. She never would be my lover, I would never hold
her, save from in a movie. The one girl I had actually loved. I swept
my hand across the table in a rage and the water bottle fell to the
floor, the thin plastic not making much noise, thus depriving me of
any satisfaction that a crash would have provided.
Hope it
gives you hell, hope it gives you hell.
Gives you hell indeed. One of us was giving, one was receiving. Who was doing what? That was the bloody mystery. I certainly wasn't doing much, sitting here, waiting for something to happen. Getting pissed drunk every night and not giving a shit. She seemed fine, happy even, smoking her "ciggie." I wanted to shout across the waters separating us that she shouldn't smoke, that it was bad for her lungs, that she was killing herself. But I couldn't, not just because of the water, but because that would make me a hypocrite and I knew that she despised hypocrites more than almost anything else. How lame was it to be subjecting yourself to the imaginary judgment of someone who doesn't even care about you? Someone who clearly doesn't care about you, doesn't give a crap!
Where's your picket fence, love? And where's that shiny car….. and did it ever get you far?
Where was the fence separating us now? Did the ocean qualify, or was it that wall that her 'love' for her 'boyfriend' had built between us. Why did I care? Truly, she had bolted, running from the room before goodbye's were possible. What did she think would have happened? Did she think I would have tried to do something to her? Really?! Or was it just that she wanted space, space to think, space to be apart. She did have a shiny car. I could see that from the photos that were taken in the parking lot of Sundance, along with that ciggie. Her shiny silver Honda. It didn't ever get her far, it really didn't get her far! I could still see her, the fans could see her, the damn paparazzi could see her. What was she hiding from?
I've never seen you so tense, love. Poor Kris. She was still a baby compared to the rest of the cast. Even Taylor was big enough to handle himself in a crowd and not get pushed over. I remembered the feeling of Kristen hanging on to me at various premieres, specifically America and England. She felt so fragile. Never seen you fall so hard. Damn straight she fell hard. She had always said that smoking was strange and not a "becoming" habit of mine. And yet, there she was with a damn cigarette of her own! Do you even know where you are? Did she? Or was her body there, without her mind. She looked deep in thought at the time those pictures were taken. I couldn't miss this girl that I wasn't even supposed to love, to like, to yearn after.
Truth be told, I miss you. And truth be told, I'm lyin'! I wasn't lying like the people in the song, but call my life a lie, and you hit the nail on the head. I didn't even have a defense for myself about that one. Look at me now, sitting in the kitchen of my house, thinking about this girl who I barely even knew, if I were to be honest with myself.
Hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! I wanted to sort my life out, not give her hell. Giving Kris hell was the last thing on my mind. This song was pretty much speaking to every aspect of my life and I could do nothing to contradict it. Listening was like waging a war with your own mind, and losing.
Hope you find a man that's worth a damn and he treats you well…. Hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell….
Wow. I was still stuck here. In this same old rut, and I was supposed to be getting ready for my flight to America, for the Oscars on Sunday. I didn't have a date, but I wished more than anything to take Kris with me, down that long red carpet, paved with reporters and the legacies of other stars. I knew that would never happen, but I still hadn't asked anyone to be my date. I was considering Nikki, but I knew she'd do anything, she was practically my best friend. Oh well. I left for America in two hours, I would talk to Kris when I got there.
As I shut off my iPod and headed out the door, I contemplated the whole 'twilight' gig, all the people, all the places we went. I didn't even really remember. I just remembered one person. Kristen Stewart. A shy girl of seventeen, almost eighteen, with brown hair and deep green eyes that always seemed to have a secret. Then she matured even more and I only grew to love the grown-up girl more deeply than I had the girl I met months before filming had started.
As I boarded the red-eye to America, I closed my eyes and even though I thought of other things, Kristen came, unbidden into my mind's eye. And there she settled, smiling and happy, while I slept. As I fell into sleep, I resolved to see and talk to her in the next twenty-four hours. I would do that much, I promised myself.
A/N: hope you liked it! Don't forget to review, review, review, review! I'll get the next chapter up really soon. As in, as soon as I finish typing it. Which should be in the next few minutes!!!! Yay!!!!!!
