Our Song
It was you.
Annabelle’s POV
Waking up at 6 AM on a Sunday is not my idea of fun. Waking up at someone pounding at your door while you phone is ringing non-stop is worse. I mean, who the hell is up at 6 AM ON A SUNDAY?!?! Letting out a sigh, I throw the sheets off of me, sitting up &; rubbing my face, trying to at least be awake enough to make it to the door &; rip the head of this obnoxious person. I swear, if it’s Mr. Woodard again complaining about my phone ringing too much & too loud, I might physically hurt him. I run a hand through my hair only to have my fingers tangle in it. “Uh” I groan painfully tugging at my hair to free my fingers. “Just what I needed” The pounding on the door didn’t subdued, so I got up, walking barefoot to the front door. “I’M COMING” I screamed. This person is starting to piss me off. “Geez” I say to myself finally making it to the front door. I opened it, without looking through the peephole, only to find my best friend standing there with his cell phone attached to one ear & his fist ready to pound on my door again. “What the fuck do you want, Brian, at this ungodly hour?” I ask, glaring at him.
“Well, good morning to you too” He says, a small smile appearing on his face. I scoff, letting him walk behind me. I walked into the kitchen, wanting to grab a bottle with water &; head back to my room. I almost feel my bed calling me. “Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m doing here at this [i]‘ungodly hour’[/i]?” He says, placing 2 cup filled with hot coffee on the small kitchen table. I look at it. “Black, no sugar… just like you like it” He says smiling, handing me a cup. I yawn cause I honestly just want to go to bed. “You should always style your hair like that. It suits you” He says pointing at my head while he sips from his coffee. I flip him off but can’t help run my hand through my hair, only for it to trap my fingers once again. So I just give up.
“What do you want?” I ask him, taking the sit next to him.
“I, uh… want to talk to you about something” He says, not looking at me. He starts fidgeting with his cup &; spinning it.
“You came all the way here just cuz you want to tell me something?” I ask, almost disbelieved. He nods, still not looking at me. “You could’ve called” I say, sipping from my coffee, hissing when the hot liquid reaches my tongue.
“I would’ve but I knew it would’ve gone straight to your answering machine or voice mail. Besides, what I have to tell you it’s kind of a face-to-face thing” He says. I notice his fidgeting is getting worse, so I place my hand on top of his cup. He knows I hate when he does that. This made him look up at me. “Sorry” He almost whispers to me.
“Ok. So now that you’re here, can you tell me whatever it is that you came for? I don’t want to sound like a bitch, but I would really love to go back to bed & have a few more hours of sleep before I have to go to my parents’ house for lunch”
My family is a very traditional, almost abnormal, family. My mom is that hyper chirpy mother that makes my brother & I go to her house every Sunday for lunch for us to have those ‘family times’ like we used to have when we all lived under the same roof. You can’t blame her. She feels her nest empty. She always says that we grew up too fast. She just wants things to be the way they were before we, my brother & I, took off to make a life out of ourselves.
I have an older brother named Jeremy. He’s 5 years older to be exact which makes him 28 at the time. He’s a lawyer with the white picket fence house, the perfect wife & the cutest kids EVER. Yeah, I love my nephews. Neil is 6 & he’s just a handful. I had been stuck babysitting him twice… & that was all I needed to know that kid needed a Ritalin or something. Then there’s Kevin, who has the most amazing baby blue eyes I’ve seen & who’s just [i]way[/i] too smart for a 3-year old. He often made me feel stupid.
Then there’s me. I’m not that smart. I’m not that hot. I’m not that nice. I’m not that funny. That's me: I'm not that. I’m just the average 23 years old girl that was born with the amazing talent of seeing beauty in almost everything hence me becoming an artist. It all started when my mom enrolled me in ballet when I was 4, making me a ballerina. When I quitted ballet at 17, she made me take dance lessons, telling me I should embrace my ‘inherited sassiness’ while I was young. When I was 12, my grandfather gave me a camera for a birthday. I developed a love and fascination with photography. Then he paid for photography lessons for me before I went away to New York when I graduated high school. You can say that photography was what ignited my ‘artistic spark’. That’s why my apartment if filled with pictures and paintings. Some good, some bad, but all filled with good memories.
Then my Dad pitched his musical knowledge to my brother and me. He thought me how to play the piano when I was 8. When I saw my brother playing the guitar, I demanded I wanted to learn so he bought me one. Him being a music teacher himself, taught me how to write and read music. He always told me that whenever I was feeling down, or wasn’t in the mood for painting or drawing, to let music ‘wash it all away’, which proved to be one of the best advices I’ve ever gotten in my life. That’s why I have pages & pages, notebooks & notebooks, filled with thoughts, lyrics & whatever nonsense that came to mind at a certain point.
So, as you can see… I’m just an artistic girl. I don’t complain though. I was never good for studying. I was always a hands-on type of girl.
“So?” I ask Brian again.
You might want to know how the hell Brian & I met. Simple… through our fathers. Papa Gates & my dad, Alex, used to play together. So we grew up together. We attended the same school, different grades of course. Being good childhood friends, we met the ‘gang’ as they used to call themselves, at school. They were always around, eating my cereal, changing whatever I was watching & getting into all kind of troubles. I think that’s why my brother became a lawyer. Maybe he, subconsciously, wanted to beat the system for all the times he ended up locked up with the guys.
When I came back from New York, I started working with the guys, drawing for their album’s covers, creating backgrounds for photo shoots even making a couple of designs for Vengeance University. So, you can pretty much see that me & the guys have always been together, even after my brother went to law school, became a family guy & started covering his tattoos.
He sighs. “I think I screwed up yesterday” He says almost in a whisper, his stare cast down.
“What? You need to elaborate a little bit more, Bri. I’m sleep deprived so that makes me a lot slower than I normally am” I say, sipping from my coffee again.
“It’s… Michelle” He says, looking at me with those brown eyes that drive every girl crazy.
“What do you mean?”
“I got home a couple of nights ago wasted” Like that was weird. “And, apparently, I got all chatty talked to her about… marriage” He says, looking down again. And at that exact moment, the coffee that was making its way from my lips to my tongue came out. Yep… I spat my coffee… all over Brian.
“Crap. Sorry, Bri” I say embarrassed & quickly getting up to grab a small kitchen towel start wiping at his face while he laughs, with his eyes close. “I’m so sorry. It’s just… you can’t drop that bomb to me just like that” I say, completely cleaning his face & noticing his red t-shirt had small coffee spots. “I’ll get you a clean shirt” I say walking out of the kitchen & into my bedroom.
“I don’t think I’m gonna fit into one of you shirts, Ann” I hear him shout to me. I walk to the kitchen again, with a blue t-shirt… [i]his favorite t-shirt[/i]. “IT WAS YOU” He exclaims, noticing the shirt I handed to him. “I could’ve sworn Jimmy was the one that took it” He says, taking his stained shirt off, exposing that toned body that any fan girl would die to run a hand over. Hell, to even see it. It’s not that it didn’t faze me, it’s just that I don’t think about Brian like that. He’s like another big brother. I have 5 big brothers & Johnny. Johnny & I are always getting into troubles. He’s my partner in crime.
He puts the shirt on & throws the other one at the kitchen counter. I don’t think he cares; it’s just a plain red shirt. We stayed silent for a moment, letting everything sink.
“Marriage? Wow” I say, leaning against the counter, biting my lip while I thought about the words he has said. ‘Marriage’ & ‘Brian’… huh… I would NEVER thought of putting that in one sentence. “So, you proposed to her?”
“What? NO” He exclaims rapidly. “No” He says again a lot calmer.
“Then what?” I ask, furrowing my brows, not understanding.
“She wants for us to take the next step” He says, rubbing his forehead. “Apparently I said I was ready to take the next step. But, I mean, are you gonna believe a drunken person?” He says. I thought about it for a while.
“Well…” I swallowed. “From experience, I can say that kids & drunks don’t lie” I say, knowing that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He just looked at me, almost confused. “Can you blame her, Brian? You guys have been together for a while now. A [i]long while[/i]. You guys live together, spend almost every waking moment with each other. You guys are practically married” I shrug the last part walking over the table, grabbing my cup & sipping from it.
“Did she talk to you? Did she tell you to talk me into it?” He asked, narrowing his eyes in a ‘menacing’ way.
“What? No” I say rolling my eyes. “Look, if you don’t want to get married, then don’t. Talk to [i]her[/i] & tell her that you’re just not ready. I’m sure she’ll understand” I say a bit annoyed.
“What if she doesn’t?” He asks me, worry in his voice. Then his face changed & I saw that expression that I knew was when he came up with those bad ideas that involved me & some awkward situation. “Would you do it for me?” He asks, walking to me.
“WHAT? NO”
“Pleeeaaassseee” He whines, embracing me in a hug… a very [i]tight[/i] hug.
“You gotta be kidding me. This is your problem &, I won’t say that I would like to help you, but I think I’m just gonna enjoy watching you squirm while you talk to her. You are a big boy… I’m sure you’ll find a way to lay it down to her” I say to him, looking up at him to see a small pout on his face, but I don’t cave. He should know by now, that never worked for him when it came to me. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe my warm & cozy bed is waiting for me” I say starting to walk out of the kitchen. “Lock the door when you leave, ok?” I say, climbing into my king sized bed & wrapping the yellow sheets over me. Ah… I missed you bed. I know you miss me too. Suddenly, I feel the bed sink & my sheet being tug. I let out a frustrated sigh and turn around to find a shirtless & shoeless Brian lying by my side.
“What are you… some kind of sheet monster? Share some sheets” He says, closing his eyes. A small smile is tugging at his lips, knowing that I’m glaring at him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I say, leaning up a little to tug a bit at my sheet so he can have some more.
“Sleeping. In case you haven’t noticed its 6:52 AM. It’s way too early for me” He says, exhaling.
“Uh… I think you have a bed you can go lay down in… AT YOUR HOUSE”
“It’s too far & I’m too lazy to drive all the way there” He replies, not opening his eyes. He lets out a satisfied sigh, throwing his parts of the sheets over his shoulders. I groan, turning around & laying on my side.
“You should’ve thought of that when you came panicking at 6” I mutter. I feel Brian’s arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him.
“Would you shut up already? I want to sleep” He says letting out another exhale. I scoff & let sleep wash me over on the arms of my best friend.
Waking up at 6 AM on a Sunday is not my idea of fun. Waking up at someone pounding at your door while you phone is ringing non-stop is worse. I mean, who the hell is up at 6 AM ON A SUNDAY?!?! Letting out a sigh, I throw the sheets off of me, sitting up &; rubbing my face, trying to at least be awake enough to make it to the door &; rip the head of this obnoxious person. I swear, if it’s Mr. Woodard again complaining about my phone ringing too much & too loud, I might physically hurt him. I run a hand through my hair only to have my fingers tangle in it. “Uh” I groan painfully tugging at my hair to free my fingers. “Just what I needed” The pounding on the door didn’t subdued, so I got up, walking barefoot to the front door. “I’M COMING” I screamed. This person is starting to piss me off. “Geez” I say to myself finally making it to the front door. I opened it, without looking through the peephole, only to find my best friend standing there with his cell phone attached to one ear & his fist ready to pound on my door again. “What the fuck do you want, Brian, at this ungodly hour?” I ask, glaring at him.
“Well, good morning to you too” He says, a small smile appearing on his face. I scoff, letting him walk behind me. I walked into the kitchen, wanting to grab a bottle with water &; head back to my room. I almost feel my bed calling me. “Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m doing here at this [i]‘ungodly hour’[/i]?” He says, placing 2 cup filled with hot coffee on the small kitchen table. I look at it. “Black, no sugar… just like you like it” He says smiling, handing me a cup. I yawn cause I honestly just want to go to bed. “You should always style your hair like that. It suits you” He says pointing at my head while he sips from his coffee. I flip him off but can’t help run my hand through my hair, only for it to trap my fingers once again. So I just give up.
“What do you want?” I ask him, taking the sit next to him.
“I, uh… want to talk to you about something” He says, not looking at me. He starts fidgeting with his cup &; spinning it.
“You came all the way here just cuz you want to tell me something?” I ask, almost disbelieved. He nods, still not looking at me. “You could’ve called” I say, sipping from my coffee, hissing when the hot liquid reaches my tongue.
“I would’ve but I knew it would’ve gone straight to your answering machine or voice mail. Besides, what I have to tell you it’s kind of a face-to-face thing” He says. I notice his fidgeting is getting worse, so I place my hand on top of his cup. He knows I hate when he does that. This made him look up at me. “Sorry” He almost whispers to me.
“Ok. So now that you’re here, can you tell me whatever it is that you came for? I don’t want to sound like a bitch, but I would really love to go back to bed & have a few more hours of sleep before I have to go to my parents’ house for lunch”
My family is a very traditional, almost abnormal, family. My mom is that hyper chirpy mother that makes my brother & I go to her house every Sunday for lunch for us to have those ‘family times’ like we used to have when we all lived under the same roof. You can’t blame her. She feels her nest empty. She always says that we grew up too fast. She just wants things to be the way they were before we, my brother & I, took off to make a life out of ourselves.
I have an older brother named Jeremy. He’s 5 years older to be exact which makes him 28 at the time. He’s a lawyer with the white picket fence house, the perfect wife & the cutest kids EVER. Yeah, I love my nephews. Neil is 6 & he’s just a handful. I had been stuck babysitting him twice… & that was all I needed to know that kid needed a Ritalin or something. Then there’s Kevin, who has the most amazing baby blue eyes I’ve seen & who’s just [i]way[/i] too smart for a 3-year old. He often made me feel stupid.
Then there’s me. I’m not that smart. I’m not that hot. I’m not that nice. I’m not that funny. That's me: I'm not that. I’m just the average 23 years old girl that was born with the amazing talent of seeing beauty in almost everything hence me becoming an artist. It all started when my mom enrolled me in ballet when I was 4, making me a ballerina. When I quitted ballet at 17, she made me take dance lessons, telling me I should embrace my ‘inherited sassiness’ while I was young. When I was 12, my grandfather gave me a camera for a birthday. I developed a love and fascination with photography. Then he paid for photography lessons for me before I went away to New York when I graduated high school. You can say that photography was what ignited my ‘artistic spark’. That’s why my apartment if filled with pictures and paintings. Some good, some bad, but all filled with good memories.
Then my Dad pitched his musical knowledge to my brother and me. He thought me how to play the piano when I was 8. When I saw my brother playing the guitar, I demanded I wanted to learn so he bought me one. Him being a music teacher himself, taught me how to write and read music. He always told me that whenever I was feeling down, or wasn’t in the mood for painting or drawing, to let music ‘wash it all away’, which proved to be one of the best advices I’ve ever gotten in my life. That’s why I have pages & pages, notebooks & notebooks, filled with thoughts, lyrics & whatever nonsense that came to mind at a certain point.
So, as you can see… I’m just an artistic girl. I don’t complain though. I was never good for studying. I was always a hands-on type of girl.
“So?” I ask Brian again.
You might want to know how the hell Brian & I met. Simple… through our fathers. Papa Gates & my dad, Alex, used to play together. So we grew up together. We attended the same school, different grades of course. Being good childhood friends, we met the ‘gang’ as they used to call themselves, at school. They were always around, eating my cereal, changing whatever I was watching & getting into all kind of troubles. I think that’s why my brother became a lawyer. Maybe he, subconsciously, wanted to beat the system for all the times he ended up locked up with the guys.
When I came back from New York, I started working with the guys, drawing for their album’s covers, creating backgrounds for photo shoots even making a couple of designs for Vengeance University. So, you can pretty much see that me & the guys have always been together, even after my brother went to law school, became a family guy & started covering his tattoos.
He sighs. “I think I screwed up yesterday” He says almost in a whisper, his stare cast down.
“What? You need to elaborate a little bit more, Bri. I’m sleep deprived so that makes me a lot slower than I normally am” I say, sipping from my coffee again.
“It’s… Michelle” He says, looking at me with those brown eyes that drive every girl crazy.
“What do you mean?”
“I got home a couple of nights ago wasted” Like that was weird. “And, apparently, I got all chatty talked to her about… marriage” He says, looking down again. And at that exact moment, the coffee that was making its way from my lips to my tongue came out. Yep… I spat my coffee… all over Brian.
“Crap. Sorry, Bri” I say embarrassed & quickly getting up to grab a small kitchen towel start wiping at his face while he laughs, with his eyes close. “I’m so sorry. It’s just… you can’t drop that bomb to me just like that” I say, completely cleaning his face & noticing his red t-shirt had small coffee spots. “I’ll get you a clean shirt” I say walking out of the kitchen & into my bedroom.
“I don’t think I’m gonna fit into one of you shirts, Ann” I hear him shout to me. I walk to the kitchen again, with a blue t-shirt… [i]his favorite t-shirt[/i]. “IT WAS YOU” He exclaims, noticing the shirt I handed to him. “I could’ve sworn Jimmy was the one that took it” He says, taking his stained shirt off, exposing that toned body that any fan girl would die to run a hand over. Hell, to even see it. It’s not that it didn’t faze me, it’s just that I don’t think about Brian like that. He’s like another big brother. I have 5 big brothers & Johnny. Johnny & I are always getting into troubles. He’s my partner in crime.
He puts the shirt on & throws the other one at the kitchen counter. I don’t think he cares; it’s just a plain red shirt. We stayed silent for a moment, letting everything sink.
“Marriage? Wow” I say, leaning against the counter, biting my lip while I thought about the words he has said. ‘Marriage’ & ‘Brian’… huh… I would NEVER thought of putting that in one sentence. “So, you proposed to her?”
“What? NO” He exclaims rapidly. “No” He says again a lot calmer.
“Then what?” I ask, furrowing my brows, not understanding.
“She wants for us to take the next step” He says, rubbing his forehead. “Apparently I said I was ready to take the next step. But, I mean, are you gonna believe a drunken person?” He says. I thought about it for a while.
“Well…” I swallowed. “From experience, I can say that kids & drunks don’t lie” I say, knowing that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He just looked at me, almost confused. “Can you blame her, Brian? You guys have been together for a while now. A [i]long while[/i]. You guys live together, spend almost every waking moment with each other. You guys are practically married” I shrug the last part walking over the table, grabbing my cup & sipping from it.
“Did she talk to you? Did she tell you to talk me into it?” He asked, narrowing his eyes in a ‘menacing’ way.
“What? No” I say rolling my eyes. “Look, if you don’t want to get married, then don’t. Talk to [i]her[/i] & tell her that you’re just not ready. I’m sure she’ll understand” I say a bit annoyed.
“What if she doesn’t?” He asks me, worry in his voice. Then his face changed & I saw that expression that I knew was when he came up with those bad ideas that involved me & some awkward situation. “Would you do it for me?” He asks, walking to me.
“WHAT? NO”
“Pleeeaaassseee” He whines, embracing me in a hug… a very [i]tight[/i] hug.
“You gotta be kidding me. This is your problem &, I won’t say that I would like to help you, but I think I’m just gonna enjoy watching you squirm while you talk to her. You are a big boy… I’m sure you’ll find a way to lay it down to her” I say to him, looking up at him to see a small pout on his face, but I don’t cave. He should know by now, that never worked for him when it came to me. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe my warm & cozy bed is waiting for me” I say starting to walk out of the kitchen. “Lock the door when you leave, ok?” I say, climbing into my king sized bed & wrapping the yellow sheets over me. Ah… I missed you bed. I know you miss me too. Suddenly, I feel the bed sink & my sheet being tug. I let out a frustrated sigh and turn around to find a shirtless & shoeless Brian lying by my side.
“What are you… some kind of sheet monster? Share some sheets” He says, closing his eyes. A small smile is tugging at his lips, knowing that I’m glaring at him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I say, leaning up a little to tug a bit at my sheet so he can have some more.
“Sleeping. In case you haven’t noticed its 6:52 AM. It’s way too early for me” He says, exhaling.
“Uh… I think you have a bed you can go lay down in… AT YOUR HOUSE”
“It’s too far & I’m too lazy to drive all the way there” He replies, not opening his eyes. He lets out a satisfied sigh, throwing his parts of the sheets over his shoulders. I groan, turning around & laying on my side.
“You should’ve thought of that when you came panicking at 6” I mutter. I feel Brian’s arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him.
“Would you shut up already? I want to sleep” He says letting out another exhale. I scoff & let sleep wash me over on the arms of my best friend.
The sequel is up. I don't know why it doesn't show up here. Go to my profile & you'll see it. It's called Second Chance. Hope you enjoy it!
3/28/13