What If #justwriteit #fanfic

Chapter 4: Jesse

Chapter Four: Jesse

I couldn't stop thinking about that phone number in my hand. Somehow, some way, I was going to decipher those missing first three digits. Fairly certain it was the area code, I awakened Siri to retrieve the information I needed. Apparently, Michigan has a million area codes.

Not wanting to randomly text people, I decided to investigate further. Reverse look up, something I invested in due to random phone calls I received on a regular basis. A miracle, I found her missing digits.

I hesitated. Maybe I shouldn't bother. My lifestyle was a wild one, one I really shouldn't bring an innocent bystander along for. And Brooke did seem so completely innocent. Then again, I should know better than to judge based on how someone appears. I've been so very wrong in the past. You'd think I would have learned many lessons by now.

The guys were getting ready to leave and I was right there with them. Each of them had a cling-on, except for me. Probably the first time in a long time I was going back to the hotel alone. I was quite okay with that, I could use some down time anyway.

An hour later, I was sprawled out on the comfortable hotel bed, staring mindlessly at the flat screen television. I don't even think I could say what show was on, my brain was too filled with those tortured green eyes.

Brooke had a story. Sure, everyone has one. It's what happens when life takes hold. One experience after the other builds and molds us into who we are and who we become. But hers, it was swimming in her eyes and, for reasons I couldn't put into words, I wanted to know what it was. What her story was.

Ever since Down Rulers hit super stardom, I have lived a selfish life. I'm not too ashamed to admit it. I give everything I have to the fans when I am onstage. But, offstage, I was a taker. I was becoming someone that I wouldn't ever want to know yet, I was stuck with me. Something needed to change or I would explode. I just didn't know how to change this habit that has become my life.

Performing, drinking and women. Three things that made up who I am today. At 26, I can't even count how many bodies I had been with. In the end, that's really all they become to me...bodies. Faces blur into each other and make up one giant face that encompasses all of them. Eyes, tits, legs, hips, lips...all interchangeable parts.

Here's the thing, I've 'loved' many women in my life. Back before the band became big, I had a girl I was seeing. We'd been together a couple years when, like magic, Down Rulers, with Stephen stepping in as lead singer, hit the top of the charts in the UK and US, at the same time. Suddenly, the girl who had been so sweet and supportive only wanted more and more things and more and more time with me. And, nothing I did made her happy. She became clingy and paranoid, certain I was cheating on her, even before I really ever did.

My so-called normal relationship became a train wreck and we both had to get off the tracks to save ourselves. After that, touring and making videos became a way of life. Each stop we made was one step further away from who I used to be. I'm not sure I want my old life back but yet, there are parts of it I miss. Privacy, for example. And trust. Trust is something that left when hit records and fans stepped in.

I trusted no one, except the guys and even then, just barely. Mostly, I didn't trust women. For many of them, I would be considered a stepping stone or a way out. I don't think anyone really wanted me for me, for what was inside me. So, I created a barrier and kept emotions out of the scene. Instead of letting women take advantage of me, I turned it around. No one got in.

I had become the kind of guy my mother warned my sisters about. Yet, if she knew what I was, she'd make excuses for me, I was infallible in her eyes. She didn't know about the drinking, though. The drinking; my escape from myself. I knew why I drank. I just didn't know how to stop. I didn't truly know if I could stop.

I laughed at myself, because tonight I was exceptionally sober. Which completely explained why I was 'going there' in my mind.

No, I probably should just leave Brooke alone. She didn't deserve to know a wreck like me. But, what if. I couldn't get those words out of my head, what if. What if she was my what if?

I thumbed the napkin again, the numbers scribbled in blue pen were already memorized.

What could it hurt? Three days, in my world, is a long time. It would just be a dinner. Or coffee. I'd even go stone sober. I swear. I just need to know, to understand what it was about her that I was so incredibly drawn to. Aside from those eyes. And the way her full lips turned up at the corners. And those curls my hands could get lost in. And the breathy sound of her voice.

Grabbing my phone, I turned it on. The battery was on red. Okay, fine. I'll just let it charge for a bit and then text her. I'd hate to start out a conversation with my phone dying midway. Or, maybe I'm just making excuses.

I checked the time, it was almost one in the morning. She was probably long asleep. Most people, on a week night, went to bed at normal hours. 1am wasn't a normal hour. Or, maybe it was. I just didn't know anymore, it had been a long time since normal was part of my vocabulary.

Oh hell, what have I got to lose? She'll either respond or she won't. I won't know unless I do it. I sort of wished Stephen were around so I could bounce my obsessing off of him, he always knew what to say to talk me down.

What would I say to her? I didn't want to come on too strong, scaring her off was the last thing I wanted to do. I should just be honest. Girls liked guys who were honest. And, I'm a guy, she's a girl. So, there's that. Oh fuck, I'm so overthinking this whole thing.

I typed and deleted a few bazillion times. Long messages. Short messages. I got to the point where I was driving myself insane.

Rolling over on my back, I stared at the ceiling. Breathe, Jesse. In through the nose and out through the mouth. This isn't that difficult, you idiot. It's a stupid text message. For fucks sake, it's not like you're actually dialing a phone and expecting to hear a human voice. It's simple letters that make up words which form a semi- coherent message.

Meanwhile, all I could think about was the fact that she left without saying goodbye. Hey, that's a fine enough text, I think. Simple, straightforward and to the point. I wonder if she'll even know who is texting her. Should I sign my name?

Nope, I'll just type "You left without saying goodbye." and hit send.

And that's what I did.

I turned over on my side, with my phone right next to my ear, and fell asleep.