My Bloody Idiot

When Brian left, I figured I’d probably make something to fill my yelling stomach and go to sleep. Boy, was I wrong. I was bored out of my mind! I had never been the one to cook... like ever, but I made a chili con carne and a lasagna and I had the honor to fully destroy a tiramisu cake I tried to make. I had stood by the oven and made enough food to feed an army. And I still was bored beyond limits.

Even that plastic surgeon reality show Botched didn’t cease my boredom, so instead I gathered all my make-up from upstairs and scattered it all over the coffee table in the living room, trying to make my face at least look like I wasn’t dead inside with the help of those magic youtube tutorials.

It was needless to say I stabbed my eyes more times than I liked to admit. It took me forty minutes to pull off a winged eyeliner look and another twenty minutes to glue some fluffy fake eyelashes on my eyes. When I turned over the package those beasts came in and saw the price, I nearly had a heart-attack. Why the fuck did I spend thirty bucks for something I didn’t even remember buying anymore? „Well, this better get me some D tonight...” It was ridiculous how much they charged for little pieces of hair you glued to your bloody face.

As far as it went for the reflection in the mirror- I’d tap that. Those eyebrows were on fleek, girl. I was no Jeffry Star, but, man, it looked like I knew my shit, which was surprising, knowing my daily make up routine consisted of washing my face and putting on a pair of sunglasses. Sure, I mean, I couldn’t see what was happening above the lash line, but who needed to see the sky anyway, right? It was like two tiny roofs were above my eyes.

I saw my mum walking down the stairs right as I was done inspecting my masterpiece. „Mum!” She shot me a questioning look right when she noticed my excitement, „I finally get the deal with these eyelashes! This is how pornstars don’t get cum in their eyes! This is bloody brilliant...”

„You know...” She started, a frown appearing on her face, „Sometimes I’m not quite sure if I raised you the right way...” gee, you think?

„I grew up in a tour bus,” My eyes fixed on her in what seemed to be a stare-down, before I continued, „What did you expect?”

„Point taken,” She nodded and continued to the kitchen.

„But ain’t I a genius, huh?!” I shouted back at her as I threw all the make-up junk in the small bag, „I bet you’d never even thought about it.”

She returned with a glass of juice in her hand and a smug smirk on her face, „Why do you think I wear them daily?”

„Mum... You’re disgusting.” I grimaced in disgust as I stood up from the couch.

„Are those my pants?” She asked right when she flunked down on the couch, at the exact spot I had been warming up and rested her feet on the coffee table. I looked down on the pair of ripped up denim’s. „And you cut holes in them...”

„I was creating art thank you very much,” I replied and yanked the leather jacket from underneath her and her bony behind.

„And why on earth are you wearing a top that barely covers your tits?” She cocked her light eyebrow, measuring me with her eyes from top to bottom, „Please tell me that’s your bra and you just forgot to put on some actual clothes...”

I simply waved her off as I threw the leather jacket over my arm, digging deep in my pocket for my car keys as I went towards the front door. „Bye mum!”

„Bye! Don’t become a stripper!”

I couldn’t bare but roll my eyes as I closed the door after myself and walked over the freshly mowed grass to get to the black Camaro. I figured I’m still taking my pills so I won’t be drinking, so it’s safe to say I won’t crash the car in to a civilian walking down the sidewalk, but what I hadn’t figured out was where the heck was I even going. I just knew I had a full face of war paint on and I had to go and show my gorgeous self off. Frankly, I looked like an expensive hooker...

The leather jacket landed on the passenger seat. As I started up the engine and backed out of the driveway, Flo Rida’s Whistle came on the radio. What’s this? The most crappy summer hit’s of 2013? Although, I had to admit, it put me in the right mood to drop it like it’s hot tonight.

I rolled down my windows, letting the wind throw my hair around as I drove down the Main street. Sun was setting over the horizon and I realized there was nowhere else I’d rather be, but the sunny California. The small british muffin in the big ol’ Orange County...

Of course I ended pulling up in the parking lot of Johnny’s, because where else would I go? To that Malibu barbie place around the corner? Yeah, like that’s ever gonna happen...

I parked the car right next to the slick Jaguar Saint had obsessed over for years. I kid you not she celebrated for a week straight when she finally bought the car. I got out of the car to see the barber shop next to the saloon closing up and one of the barbers heading in for the daily glass of whiskey.

As soon as I approached the entrance, I started questioning if I’m in the right place since the catchy Club Can’t Handle Me was blaring through the speakers. I walked in with an amused frown on my face only to see the bar full with guy’s and girls who I couldn’t quite call Johnny’s regulars. You just don’t march in the bar with six inch heels and a dress barely covering your ass, hoping you won’t get groped.

I spotted Saint behind the bar dancing along the song as she filled some glasses and Monk who seemed to be high on something. I had never seen him running around like a frenzied chipmunk.

I barely managed my way through the crowd in one piece. „What the hell is this?” I yelled over Flo Rida, catching Saint’s attention.

She pointed towards something in the back with her head. Johnny himself was standing by the door to the storage room, eyefucking some blond. „He claims he’s in love,” Saint laughed, reaching for a bottle of rum, „but what’s with you? You look...hot, which is very unusual for you.”

„I was bored...” I shrugged, scanning the place, „can you imagine how much these lashes cost? Who in their best mind would buy this shit for thirty bucks?”

„Well... You,” She smirked as she handed two glasses to the chump left from me. Monk greeted me right as he passed Saint with a cigarette between his lips. I took the greeting back with a nod of my head. „So what’s it gonna be tonight?”

„Oh so finally I have your undivided attention?” I laughed. I was in a surprisingly good mood. Started to scare me. „I’m driving tonight so I guess I’ll start with coffee.”

„Coffee?” She exasperated. „This is not Starbucks, hun.”

My eyes shifted from her to the coffee machine right behind her back and then again to her. „So the beast behind you is just for the decor, right?”

„How did you know?” A corner of her bright red lips raised in a cocky smirk, „Look, I tell you what, I make you a White Russian and you say ‘thanks, Saint, you’re the best’, ‘cause that’s the closest you’ll come to a coffee in this place.”

I shot her a patient look. „Well, you got the milk part right, so brownie points for you.”

„No, Vex, not even you get a coffee. Deal with it.” She crossed her arms over her black tank top, as if to emphasize the whole thing. Deal with it? I’ll remember the goddamn phrase when one of her weekly hangovers will be slowly killing her and I’ll blast some great screamo hits through the whole neighborhood.

I rolled my eyes. „How long ago exactly did you break the coffee machine?”

It seemed she was waging the thought for a moment, „I’d say a week or so.”

She was too easy. I knew Saint couldn’t go without her daily six cups of coffee, but I wasn’t even gonna offer bringing her some, since Starbucks was probably already closed by now. „So what’s your dopamine tonight?”

Saint raised a glass filled with a dark brown liquid. „Black Russian. Kahlua, vodka and coke.”

„Isn’t that your car outside?” I frowned, pointing to the exit.

„One drink every two hours, Vex. I think I’m good.” Well, I guess whatever floats her goat.

„Just don’t come calling for me to bail you out when you get arrested.” I said and she simply waved me off as she sipped on her drink, scanning the bar behind my back. ‘

„Ooo, your ex finally starts to look alive,” She grinned, chewing on the black straw.

„My ex?” I raised an eyebrow as I turned my back to the counter and tried to find whomever she was talking about.

„Yeah, in the booth with the bimbo,” She explained. Was it needless to say my vision wasn’t the best to start with and it took me a good while to find who she was talking about? „When he came in today, I swear he looked like he was about to kill a bitch.”

My eyes landed on Brian. He was laughing over something and of course, he was with Jennifer. Seemed a bit drunk even from where I was standing. „Seems fine to me.” I shrugged as I turned back to face her.

Saint’s eyes narrowed on me. „What did you do, Riley Clarke?”

„I swear to God, I had nothing to do with it,” My hands instantly shot up in defense. At least I thought I didn’t.

„Mkey...” She mused, her eyes still squinted on me, „I kinda don’t wanna believe you, but mkey...”

„The chick however... She came by today, looking for Brian.” I shook my head in the direction of Jennifer as I boosted my forearms on the counter.

„Yeah, she visited us too. Matt called and couldn’t understand why the fuck a hooker was knocking on his door,” Saint did an impression of her boyfriend and if I might say – a pretty darn good one.

„Well, she left me a gift too,” I extended my arm over the counter to point out those three long scratch-marks. Saint leaned over, a great frown taking over her face.

„Holy shit... Now I’m mad.” She announced as she trailed the ruined tattoo of a rose with her finger, „I’m gonna go have a little chat with the bitch.”

„No, Saint. I’m her producer.” I explained. I really didn’t need to complicate this shitty relationship even more.

„And you being her producer is a green light for her to harass you?” It was never good when Saint got mad. I sighed heavily. „Are you sure I can’t punch her in the face?”

„Yes.” I closed my eyes as I took a deep breath.

„What if I break her nose just a little?” I opened my eyes to see her showing the small distance between her thumb and index fingers. „This much, Vex, only this much...”

„Better pass me a beer.” I spoke just as Monk returned from wherever he was before, ‘cause there’s no way you can smoke for that long. And this is me not drinking. I sighed. But on a good note - it seemed the place was starting to clear out. „Hey, love, you up for some pool?”

„I’m working, Vex,” She retorted just as she popped a beer open and slid towards me.

„Go, have some fun,” Monk patted on her naked shoulder as he passed her by, „I’ll throw a bottle if I’ll need something.”

„I bet you a hundred you still don’t know how to play,” I teased as I picked up the bottle of Coors Light and started off to the back of the bar, where the pool table was.

„You can start kissing your money goodbye,” She smirked as she walked around the counter. I spotted two guys in leather vests already occupying the pool table. Saint boosted herself up on the side of the pool table, „Boy’s you mind if we join you?”

„Oh we’re just leaving, Saint.” The bigger one placed the cue on the table while the other one pulled a displeased frown over his face.

„What the fuck, man? We’re not finished here.”

„You better start moving, Toby.” He took the cue from the little guy and placed it neatly besides the other one and pushed him towards the bar. He tried fighting back and the last thing I heard was ‘you don’t want to piss them off’. Oh well.

Just as I had taken the cue, I heard a voice behind me, „Can we play?”

Both me and Saint turned to look over the chick with deep creases between our eyebrows. There was Jen... Holding Syn’s hand. Saint started, „Actually—„

„We didn’t set the score last time,” Jennifer smiled sweetly as she cut Saint off. Was she talking about the time I nearly died? Well I think it was pretty obvious who one. Me!

„Not everything is a competition, Jennifer,” I replied as I turned my back on her. If you don’t get it, this is me telling you to fuck off.

„Oh come on, Clarke. Five hundred to the one who wins.” Brian spoke. It was apparent he’d been drinking, I doubt he could even move the white ball from it’s spot even if he wanted to.

Me and Saint shared a look. „Fine,” I shrugged, giving her the cue. „You start.” I stepped back to see Jennifer leaning over the table and breaking the freshly made rack. Jennifer pocketed four of the balls on the first shot. When she was about to strike again, she looked back over her shoulder at Brian with a smirk on her face. The dude wasn’t even looking at her, but was fixing his gaze on the table with a straight face.

It was needless to say she didn’t pocket any of the balls.

Saint handed me her cue with a smile that screamed – knock her dead. „Your turn, babe.”

It was my call to figure with which of those rounded beauties me and Saint will be playing. Without thinking twice I picked the solid ones and pocketed one of them in a straight hit.

„Always the sucker for the solids,” Brian smirked in his glass.

As I went around the table to stand at the end of it, I figured Brian would move out of the way – I know – how naive on my part. As I bent over the table, I could almost feel his crotch against my ass. „Where did you storm off earlier?” I said as I missed a shot. Fuck. „I made enough Chili Con Carne to last a month, for Christ sake.”

I watched as he changed his glass in for the cue from Jennifer. „I had some stuff to take care of.” He shoots and he strikes.

„So you’re staying somewhere else tonight?”

„I’m not sure yet,” He replied as a frown grew on his face as he missed a ball and Saint went for her strikes. „Depends.” He smiled charmingly at me, before fixing his eyes on the table again.

„On what?” I questioned as I moved out of Saint’s way and ended standing next to Brian. His browns fixed on me, before he pointed to Jennifer, who was now trying to pocket a ball.

„You’re unbelievable,” I chuckled with a roll of my eyes.

„Can you honestly shut the fuck up for like one second?” I was honestly taken aback, when Jennifer straightened out and I swear I could see all those ways she imagined she would inflict pain on me just by looking at her eyes.

I could hear Brian take a deep breath, while I just tried to wipe her pitiful being out of the existence with my glare. „You’re done?” I raised my eyebrow, amused.

„Your turn.” She gestured towards the pool-table just as Saint handed me the cue. If she thought I didn’t hear her calling me a bitch, she really was young and stupid.

She was really walking a fine like here, but I guess she was hit in the head enough times to not realize that I could simply walk away from producing her and then she’d need a rabbit’s foot, a four-leave clover and a unicorn shitting rainbows to get another producer to sign up for this bullshit.

„Pick a pocket, Saint.” I spoke calmly as I leaned over the table and focused on the white ball. I imagined it to be Jen’s face and I kid you not, I had never hated an object as much as I hated that one ball at this same moment.

„What the fuck are you doing?” Jen screamed somewhere behind me. With the corner of my eye, I could see Brian pinching the bridge of his nose. „You still have four balls!”

„Top left.” Saint said, completely ignoring the psycho.

I nodded, thinking of all the options to end this game as quickly as humanly possible. Brian was already pulling for his wallet.

I took a breath and simply went for it. All those balls neatly rolled in the pockets one by one, ending with the eight-ball, travelling it’s way to the top left pocket. A satisfied smirk pulled at my lips as I straightened, seeing how Brian placed five Franklin’s on the side of the table.

„Pleasure doing business, Haner.” I saluted, taking those banknotes and handing all of them to Saint.

„As always, Clarke.” He said right as Saint handed me my beer and Jen looked like she was losing it.

„How did she do it?” Her eyes were still fixed on the pool table.

„Come on, Jen, let’s go.” Brian said with a roll of his eyes.

„You!” She pointed her finger with that long acrylic nail towards me. „You sooo cheated, you little bitch!” Didn’t your mother teach you it isn’t polite pointing fingers at people?

„Cheated?” I laughed confused, turning my head to face Saint. „Can you even cheat in eight-ball?”

She shrugged, her eyes staying on the brunette. „I don’t know, Vex, but she really pisses me off, so can we go back before I’ve punched her?”

„Lead the way,” I chuckled as she started walking away. I looked back at Brian over my shoulder and winked at him, bringing a small smirk on his lips, while the psycho was left raging there.

Out of nowhere that fucking eight-ball went flying just an inch from my ear hitting Saint straight in her blond nape.

„You’ve got to be fucking kidding me...”

Notes