Thursday, June 03, 2004
I finished my fiction.
I think i'll call it "Breaking Things & Closed Doors" featuring Jeremiah Rangel and Matt Lovato of MEST and mentions of Quinn Allman of The Used. If you can't imagined them, go find their pictures.
You look at the bedroom door for what seemed like the 53814732985th time and it is still closed, just as you left it the day before. You sigh in defeat, looking back up at the ceiling. You shut your eyes, letting the tears slip from the sides of your already puffy eyes. You hate him for fucking everything up but still, deep in the back of your head, you wish he comes barging in through the closed door, begging you for your forgiveness. You blink your eyes to drive the tears away and you look at the glowing clock next to your bedside table. 3:06AM. You have been lying around like this since 11AM yesterday. About half an hour after you walked in on him with...that fucking bastard.
You hate yourself for being so weak, for not being able to stand up and do shit to get your mind off of him. You haven't even touched a single cigarette since that fight, for God's sake and that's not typical of Jere the Chimney. Your friends didn't give you that nickname for nothing. You look at the door again, still closed.
Matt was probably with him. Fucking. Again.
You scrunch up your eyes, you don't want to think about that. You feel that sharp jab of pain in your heart again. Your heart is breaking all over again. That scene of Matt calling out his name, thrusting his hips into his and not yours, repeats in your head. Matt spilling inside him and then Matt meeting your eyes in panic. You hate that, he knew that it would kill you to know this but he did it anyway. All those time during tour where you waited willingly and loving-fucking-ly for Matt on your bed while Matt fucked his brains out. And him, you trusted him. You promote his band, you even wore his band's fucking shirt to your album's photo shoot for God's sake. It's fucking printed in the album, that was how much his friendship means to you. It hurt you so bad to know they were all lies. You hate Quinn, hate him for lying to you, betraying your trust, fucking your boyfriend while you tell other people how great a friend he was. You feel so stupid, those other people might have known what Matt and him were up to, only you were the stupid, blind fuck that didn't know what was going on. And still, you want Matt. Hate him, Jere, HATE HIM!, You keep telling yourself that. Doesn't really work. You try to think of all the bad things he'd done to you but your mind keeps wondering off to all the good times you had together so that one's out, too. You scream out in frustration. Doesn't make you feel that much better.
Suddenly, you have the biggest urge to break something. You eye the clock for a long time before deciding that it would be the victim of your anger. You grab it and throw it as hard as you can. It makes a loud thud as it hits the door. You watch it fall into pieces. You never knew you were that strong.
"J..Jere?" A squeak can be heard as the door of your bedroom opens. Your heart skips a beat as you realize who it is. "Jere?" Matt asks, a little more confident this time. You feel like running up to him and kissing him and telling him that you would gladly have him back when it hit you that he maybe just want to make the break-up official and it hurt you bad to realize that he let you ran away, crying your balls out while he sat there in bed with Quinn, looking panicked and fucking traumatized. That makes you mad and seeing Matt's sad pale face in the dark room didn't help make it better.
That angers you. A lot. The fact that this low excuse of a boyfriend, make that ex-boyfriend, has the guts to come into your bedroom, after fucking one of your close friends not even twenty-four hours ago.
Matt's eyes scan the room and his eyes lends on your lanky form in bed. He swallows his saliva and walks toward your lying form.
"Jere." He pokes your arm with his finger. He thinks you are sleeping and all you could do is stare at him, afraid if you open your mouth, you'll explode and kill him. "Oh, you're awake". You nod your head slowly, your eyes shooting daggers at him. You silently wish that looks can actually kill. He takes a deep breath as he looks down on your face, his eyes staring at your face lovingly. All fake, all so fucking fake, you hate yourself for believing that he actually loved you. All those times, Matt and Quinn, going out to buy weed together, going out to buy beer together, going out to buy YOU cigarettes, all fucking lies, excuses to get away and fuck each others' brains out.
He sighs. Jere, look. I won't say that Quinn started it first and I won't lie and tell you that he doesn't mean anything to me, okay? I want to be honest with you. I fucked us up really bad. Really, really bad and I know there's probably a zero chance of me getting back with you..." He clears his throat and looks away for a while. You continue staring back at him, there's only three things that makes Matt clear his throat; one to indicate clearly that he doesn't know what's going on, two, to choke back his tears and three, to just plainly clear his throat from getting jammed up.
"...but I want to try and make things right. This isn't fair for you, you did nothing but love me..."
"Damn right" You mutter, interrupting him. He looks relieved that you actually said something, you immediately regret saying anything at all to him.
"And I want you to know, I do love you. So very much. And Quinn, I love him." You feel another stab of pain go through your heart. "But not in the way that I love you. You are THE one and Quinn is just...a friend."
"Who fucks the shit out of you" You add bitterly, unable to stop yourself from speaking. You want to strangle him to death, how dare he say that fucking name in this house.
"Yes, who fucks the shit out of me" He says, knowing that there is truth to that statement. "That's just it, Jere, he is just that to me. A fuck buddy. You can call me a selfish bastard if you want to but I wanted him and he was putty in my arms, he was so easy, it was just a chance I couldn't give up" Matt hesitates before continuing, he knows you that well because that is exactly what you want to call him; 'a selfish bastard'. "And I keep on coming back for more. Quinn would wait willingly for me, he knows I wouldn't let go of you and he didn't care, he wanted me the way I wanted him. Whenever I look at you, it scared me to know that I can act like nothing has happened and lead you to believe what a great boyfriend I am. My walks to Quinn's bus, hotel room or whatever, are always filled with the thoughts of you, really. I'd always think about how you would react to the fact of knowing what Quinn and I have and the guilt that I'll feel at that time but it disappears when Quinn stands naked in front of me, lust clearly visible in his eyes."
You shut your eyes tight, you are so angry that you might cry. The tears are threatening to fall again. You don't want the image of a naked Quinn flooding in your head. He slips his hand onto yours and your hand lay helplessly motionless. He understands your move and takes his hand away.
He continues. "But in my head, images of you finding out about Quinn and I are no match on how you reacted when you found out. That was what I needed, you to find out. The guilt I felt was too much for me. You, the way your eyes portrayed the betrayal you felt, it was heartbreaking. I realized how I fucked up so bad. I'm really sorry. So, so sorry..." He sniffs. He is actually crying, his hand goes up to his face and he wipes the coming tears with the back of his hand. You want to go over and wipe it away for him but what he said upsets you. He knew he was going to hurt you and he didn't care, he has to see you hurt first to end things. You have never felt so used yet so loved at the same time.
But the anger rises again. He fucked things up, just so he can have a cheap piece of ass. Images of yourself, happily taking the pack of cigarettes from Matt after the two of them went off to buy them together, fucking each other before giving it to you, plays in your head. All those beers you drank from Matt and Quinn's shopping, you trusted them so much.
Matt's sniffs gets louder and it is starting to annoy you. "Jere, say something" he cries out. You sit up from your lying position.
"Matt, just please, get out of here. I don't want to see your fucking face ever again." You say quietly. You use that tone whenever you are in serious business. You are so angry, you feel like grabbing him yourself and throwing him out of your house. Choosing that whore who sleeps with everyone over you. How could he?
"Jere, I am so sorry...just if you would give me on more chance, I prom-"
"Fuck. Off. FUCK OFF! I DON'T WANT TO FUCKING HEAR IT! JUST GO THE FUCK AWAY!" You begin shouting, standing up.
He wipes his eyes again and sighs in defeat. He nods his head slowly, fully understanding that he isn't welcomed here anymore. "I'll always love you, Jere." and with that he walks out of your room, shutting the door behind him. You scream out loud, grabbing the picture frame of Matt and you together on tour, he probably just finished fucking Quinn at that time when you both took that picture, you throw it to the closed door and the glass broke into pieces. You sigh out loud and then begin crying again. You lay back on your bed, staring at the blurry looking ceiling.
You hate him but undeniably love him as well. You lay there in bed for another hour, thinking about Matt, how his honesty is one of the reasons why you love him so. He couldn't lie to you. Ever. Even when he was with Quinn, he never actually told a lie. It isn't exactly a lie when they told you that they were going out to buy some shit because even if they fuck each other during that time, they'd come back with the shit that they told you they were going to buy. All those stupid, romantic things that he did to you, comes rolling back in your head. Like whenever you feel out of place or uncomfortable, he could see it and he'll lace his fingers with yours and tell you that he's there to feel out of place with you. Like that time when Tony spilt tomato juice on your white t-shirt and Matt purposely spilled the juice over his grey t-shirt just so you won't feel embarrassed. Like that time, when a guy in Warped called both of you a fag and other nasty names when he saw the both of you holding hands, you chose to ignore it but Matt came and punched the fucking asshole right in the face and said "even fags can take care of themselves". Like that time, when you dog died, he was the one who actually agreed to your crazed state of mind of wanting a proper burial for 'Gumballs' the dog. You smile in spite of yourself as you remember that burial day. It was raining hard and you were crying so hard under the black umbrella while he said the obituary, soaking wet, looking so handsome in his black suit.
You lean back to the bed, staring at the ceiling. You are starting to regret ever sending him away. He was honest to you and the truth didn't really hurt as bad now as it did before when he told you. You understand him, he couldn't help himself, he is only human. People make mistakes and you sooner or later would make mistakes and you know that he will forgive you for it so you should do the same thing for him, too. Quinn is hot and the way he hangs around Matt, Matt would have to have a hell of a will power to not give in to Quinn's seducings. You would give in to that piece of meat yourself.
You sit up straight on your bed. You couldn't let go of Matt, you just can't. You've been through a lot of hell with him. He is your first boyfriend. He was the one that made you realize you didn't want girls. You can't let go of him that easily. Over something stupid as a fuck buddy, you don't care if he had Quinn lots of times, the thing now is he called it off with Quinn, he regretted ever doing it and he wants you and loves you and will continue loving you until you get it to your head that he is the one for you.
You stand up from the bed and quickly reached the phone lying on the floor a few feet away from you. You dial the familiar number and wait for someone to answer the ringing tone.
"Hello?" A croaked voice said, Matt must have been crying again.
"Matt?" You ask hopefully.
A sudden shift of movement. "Jere? Is that you?" Surprise clearly in his voice.
"Yeah" The tears are building up in your eyes for some reason. "Listen Matt, whatever I said just now, I didn't mean any of it. I'm willing to give us another try".
Silence. "Jere, I've carried enough burden in my heart right now. Playing with my feelings like this would not help at all" Matt, insecurity visible in his voice.
You laugh. That's so typical of Matt, he always think that people are bullshitting him when they tell him a very good news. "No, Matt. I'm not kidding" Tears are running down your cheeks now. You are annoyed at yourself for crying. Being emo has its downfalls. "I want us to work things out again..."
You could hear Matt's smile through the phone. "Jere, I love you so fucking much. I swear, this time, I won't fuck shit up. Let's begin again"
You grin to yourself. Matt is yours to love again, just like it always should have been. Just you and him.
End. Not my best story. But yeah. Thanks for reading.
Envy drowned in words at 19:32
[- 0 wrecked words -]
