My Bloody Idiot

That was the quickest shower I had ever taken, I mean... How dared he just appear on my doorsteps in the middle of the night with that smug smirk, demanding that I get ready in less than an hour. Women couldn’t get ready in that small amount of time! It wasn’t humanly possible... I would’ve said this is a fucking kidnapping if he hadn’t given me the privilege to wash away that very smell every mum knew all too well, but maybe it was, in fact, a kidnapping only he appeared to be a very polite kidnapper.

After the shower my hair had lost all the pink and now I was standing in front of the mirror with platinum blond hair, hardly recognizing myself. I tried my best to cover up the dark circles, but he-hey, the last time I had gone make-up hunting was before Rosie was born so... yeah, you’re on the right track, all my best make-up had been already used up a couple months ago. I looked like a bloody albino.

But, on the good note – I had found those baggy pants I had been pretty sure I had lost at some crazy party and the best part – they still fit. It was a true Christmas miracle. Seemed like even all those late night pizza’s hadn’t been enough to get some meat on these bones.

Once my eyes dropped to the electronic clock on the nightstand I figured I’m quickly running out of time, so I just pulled on my boots and threw on the leather jacket not thinking twice about the way I looked and just jogged down the stairs to see Brian sitting on the couch, lazily scrolling through his phone.

„I’m done,” I announced, pulling my hair out from underneath the leather jacket, looking around the place, realizing his mother figure was gone. „Where did Suzy go?”

„Home.” A single word reply? Well... okay. Whatever floats his boat. For a moment he kept scrolling, frowning slightly, before he pushed himself up with a heavy sigh. „So you’re finally ready?”

„Hey, you said forty minutes, I still have-,” I cut myself off to look at the clock on the wall above the fireplace, „- another four minutes and thirty... twenty nine... twenty eight seconds.” He’s been back for less an hour and he’s already being a bitch about something? I’m fucking raising his children while he’s on tour doing only god knows what and he dares to have an attitude? Fuck you.

„The car’s already waiting,” He said with a grin as he slid his phone in the pocket of his jacket.

„Car?” I frowned, feeling his hand resting on the small of my back as he guided me outside. „You mind telling me where the fuck are we going?”

„You’ll see.” He replied too fucking arrogantly if you ask me, but when I finally stepped outside I saw why he had that smug smirk on his face. A goddamn limo was waiting for us. This must be something special. Is this some anniversary I have forgotten about, ‘cause we all know I’m really bad with dates. I mean, I could manage to forget my own birthday, so if this truly was some kind of an anniversary, he had no right to be mad at me for not remembering our first kiss or some bullshit along those lines.

„A fucking limo?” I cocked an eyebrow as I looked up at him. „What is going on, Brian?”

„I’m a bit drunk, so, obviously, I can’t drive,” He said as we walked towards the black limousine. Well obviously he was drunk. Why would I even think he could manage a day without a single drop of alcohol being on tour? Something told me this evening would include a bit more of his excessive drinking, some strippers and maybe a shitty karaoke, ‘cause we all knew this specimen here loved to sing under the heavy influence of miss Laphroaig.

I wasn’t too far off. It was the very middle of the night so it was hard to tell where the limo driver was taking us. All I could tell it was outside the borders of Huntington Beach. The whole ride Brian had been silent and texting back and forth with someone, which rose an eyebrow or two, but I was too tired and confused to question why and what he was doing. When the limo stopped and Brian helped me out of the vehicle, I thought he had lost his mind.

No, I’ll rephrase that. He had clearly lost his bloody marbles.

A private jet was standing in front of me. A private jet which was apparently ready to take off.

You have to be fucking kidding me...

„Okay. Explain. Now.” I wasn’t the rockstar of the century, so excuse me if I’m not used to this particular lifestyle. This was... a bit too much.

„We’re just going for a little trip,” He smiled, guiding me forward.

„Good evening, mister Haner,” One of the blondes in a navy blue stewardess uniform greeted him, „Miss Clarke,” She nodded politely, „The plane is ready to take off whenever you’re ready.”

„Then off we go, Sue,” Brian winked as he dragged me inside.

„Would you care for a drink?” She asked as soon as we both sat down. I had the deepest frown known to man. What the hell was going on? We had this plane for all by ourselves... There was nobody on it, except the crew. Why the hell had he arranged all this?

„The usual. Make it two.” He said simply, returning his gaze to me. The stewardess left with a nod.

„The usual?” How often did he travel like this? „And how the fuck did she know my name? Where the hell are we going? Brian, I swear to God, if you don’t start answering, I’ll—„

„Relax,” He cut me off, „I promise – you’re gonna like it.”

„You know that confidence will kill you someday.”

„Yeah,” He snorted, the grin still permanent, „Sure. You love my confidence.”

„Yeah,” I mimicked his action, „In your dreams.”

This was all too much. Even tho my dad used to be the big celebrity in his day and so was my mum in a way, I had never traveled like this. My eyes landed on all the shopping bags neatly sitting on the leather couch beside us. „Brian? What are those?” I pointed towards the couch, his grin growing even wider. Can you stop with the grinning? Like... really. Starting to creep me out.

„Take a look.” He said as the stewardess brought him two glasses of what I assumed to be his favorite brand of whiskey. He placed one on the table between us, raising the other to his lips as he took a mouthful.

By then I strongly believed the frown was permanently engraved on my face. I stood up to walk over to all the shopping bags, only to see logo’s of Gucci, Chanel, Versace and even Sephora. Sephora? Make-up? „Brian? Is this for me?!” My eyebrows shot up. I thought I couldn’t be even more shocked, but guess what- ding-dong-bloody-wrong. As I turned my head to look back at him, there he was... My fiance, standing with the biggest bouquet of baby pink roses I have ever seen. „Wh-what...”

„Happy Birthday, Riles.”

„B-birthday?” I stammered, my knees going week and me falling flat on my ass on the floor. Birthday. My... birthday? Today was my birthday? Now what did I tell you... I fucking sucked when it came to dates. I had forgotten it’s my birthday. Yet a-fucking-gain.

„I knew you’d forget, which made everything super easy for me,” He chuckled, kneeling down beside me. „Baby... I’m sorry I left you all alone with Rosie and Ralph, but I swear to God there hasn’t been a single day when you all didn’t cross my mind.” I could only blink as he spoke. „I love you so much and if I could, I’d give you even more than all this.”

„I... I’m speechless.” I whispered, not understanding a single thing.

„And on the floor,” He chuckled, „But I kinda predicted this.”

„Brian... I never asked for this... this insane luxury.”

„I know...” He sighed and put the bouquet aside as he sat down beside me, taking my chin between his thumb and index fingers, „But you deserve this. Every part of it. From now on I’ll promise to be around a little bit more and to take care of the kids so you’d have some time for yourself.”

„Oh please,” I waved him off, „You don’t know the first thing when it comes to taking care of Rosie or Ralph... or yourself for that matter.”

„Can you just appreciate the thought, for fuck sake?” His dark eyebrow arched as his browns narrowed on me. And this is where he’ll throw in my face how much he payed for all this unnecessary bullshit. Why? Because he probably fucked up at one point during the tour and this is him repenting for his sins, ‘cause have you seen the size of that bouquet? There’s no way he didn’t shag a groupie...

„What’s her name?” I squinted my eyes.

„For the love of God... Riley!” His fingers ran through his hair.

„Oh come on, Haner... Half a year without sex? That’s not you, so what the fuck is her name?” I questioned watching as he stood up and walked over to the expensive table, taking the glass and shotgunning it. „Brian,” My voice portrayed a warning, „all this stuff... You fucked up royally, didn’t you?”

He was standing with his back turned against me. His shoulders tensed up, he knew exactly who I had pictured on top of him.

„You know I can go zero to a homicidal bitch really fucking quick, so...”

„You know who...” He said barely louder than a whisper.

Slowly I stood up, shooting daggers at him. I beg your fucking pardon? „What the fuck is wrong with you? You proposed to me... we adopted Ralph together... We got Rosie... What the bloody hell are you doing?”

He sat down on the armrest of the chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was the palest I had ever seen him. „I-I... Fuck, Clarke...” He sighed heavily, his hand dropping to his glass which he was holding in his lap, „I promise I didn’t sleep with her.”

„Well what then? ‘Cause you did in fact do something...” The guilt was too prominent for this to be a quick peck on the cheek.

„You’ll hate me... You’ll never forgive me,” He mumbled, not having the courage to raise his eyes from the bloody glass in his hands.

„What the fuck did you do?!” I screamed. I swear, I’m a calm person by nature, but stretching this all out like this... It got on my last fucking nerves.

„We had a show in Vegas... I was fucking wasted...” Please tell me he didn’t... He couldn’t have, right? He couldn’t... „We fucking got married...” He raised his hand to show a super cheep wedding band which at best could’ve past for a piece of wire simply wrapped around his finger.

„Why the FUCK are you still wearing it?!” I screamed, pointing to the bloody thing.

I... I just couldn’t. All I could do was curse profusely, even a two word sentence which wouldn’t consist of words like ‘fucking’ and ‘asshole’ standing side by side, was too hard to get out of myself at the moment. At one point during all this charade I thought that maybe he had gotten the private jet to take me to Vegas so we both could get hitched, but no... I had no fucking idea where this plane was taking us, neither did I want to know, because there’s no way this plane is not turning around and taking me back home.

He married Jennifer instead of me... That fucking prick.

He didn’t dare to say a word.

„No... You know what... I’m taking the kids and I’m returning to London. Have a happy life with your new wife, there’s no way in Hell I’ll let you near them. Fucking father of the year...”

Suddenly his eyes shot up to my face. He was furious. „You’re not taking my kids.”

„Your?” I faked a laugh, „What exactly makes them yours? The fact you don’t know shit about them or the fact that you oh-so generously participated in, for example, Rosie’s first months.”

„I was on tour,” He spat through gritted teeth.

„Must’ve been one heck of a tour if you managed to get hitched to the fucking opening act. Your kids will be really proud to find out daddy’s a fucking dick—„ Within a second I was on the ground. The coppery taste in my mouth left no questions of what had just happened. Brian had hit me with what felt like all his strentgth, forcing me to bite the inner side of my cheek.

„Fuck... I’m... Riley... Fuck, I didn’t mean to...”

I felt him coming closer, so I raised my hand, stopping him in his tracks. „Turn the plane around.”

„Of-of course. Sue, tell Scott to head back,” I heard him say as I leaned against the couch, rubbing my hands over my face.

„Of course, mister Haner.”

„Riley... Babe... Should I bring you some ice?”

„No,” I sighed, „But I’d appreciate if I’d never have to see you in my life.”

Notes

So, I've outdone myself. I had never written an unhappy ending, but here you have it.
Please do leave a comment if you want a sequel, 'cause I'm sure I could come up with a bit more of a drama, if not, well, we can all imagine that Riley went back to London and became a single mother.

And by the way, I had in fact started this chapter with the thought of bringing them to Vegas to get them both married, but it looked like neither Riley, nor Brian were up for that kinda ending, so, don't blame me, blame them. They lead their own lives.

Anyhow, a big thanks to everyone who followed this story, I couldn't wish for better readers. Thank you and goodnight!

Oh and p.s. sorry this took me so long to write, but I was just stuck working at a local metal festival, so I didn't have the time neither the energy. :/