[VicFuentes] I Want

[VicFuentes] I Want [ChapterFifteen]

Author's Note:

I know that it's short, but I want to end it where I did. The next chapter will be longer, I promise!

“Don’t touch me.” My voice is harsh, biting, seething with venom, poisonous venom, dripping with hatred, the smile on his face falters, melts into a frown, surprises him, but it doesn’t surprise me, I didn’t want it to happen, I didn’t want to sound angry, yet the tone of my voice speaks volumes, I wouldn’t stay calm for long. Hot water, tears, cloud my eyes, blurring my vision, threatening to fall, but I refuse to let them, not for him, not for this day old relationship, not for my sanity, it wasn’t going to happen, not now, not ever, only in privacy, which I rarely get. “Just get ready for your set.” Pulling my hand away from his, I turn my head to the side, not wanting to witness his eyes filling with gloom and confusion, wanting to finally stand my ground, realizing that maybe this relationship needs his touch, not mine.

Drawing his eyebrows together, he places his hand on my shoulder, tugging, turning me until I was facing him, but I let my gaze fall to the floor, trying to stop the tears, blinking rapidly, focusing on my breathing, anything but looking up at him, because once I do the tears will fall. “What is going on?” His voice is serious, stern, almost as harsh as mine, his words bitter, leaving me confused as to why he suddenly cares, then feeling stupid for wanting him to put me over his family, then feeling worthless when I realize he didn’t stand up for me, the yelling I heard – it was Mike’s voice the entire time.

Chewing on my lower lip, I run a hand through my hair, inhaling deeply, lifting my head to look at him, finally look at him, exhaling slowly, shaking my head as I roll my eyes, wanting to say so much, but not wanting to say anything at all. “I would like to take a shower in the shitty little space that they blocked off with a cheap curtain and installed a low pressure showerhead in, if you don’t mind.” It’s the only excuse I can think of, one that won’t explode into a fight, well, one that will stop me from simply dumping everything on him before he has to go on stage, before he has to go and make his family and his ex-girlfriend proud. I've given up on befriending her, as soon as she started talking about her life, all she talked about, didn’t let me say a word, and that was it, I simply walked away; why not, considering his mother already hates me.

I love my tattoos, all three of them: where they're placed, what they mean to me, how they look, who did them, why I got them, who was with me when I got them done, how much time and effort was spent on creating them, everything. It’s not easy, being judged, all the time, for things that make you happy, for things that remind you of moments in life that you never want to fade away from your mind. She makes me hate them.

“Why don’t you say what you really want to say to me? Hash it all out. Go ahead, Sydney. You’ve already told Cara your problems. Does she come first now?” I laughed a humorless laugh, not knowing why, not being able to stop myself, but it sounds so messed up coming from his mouth, that this is all my fault, that I'm the one in the wrong when he couldn’t even stop his mother from insulting me. Shaking my head, I shrug my shoulders, my laugh subsiding, no energy left in my body to continue this, not now, not with him, but he wants to, he wants to talk about this, and I don’t know why he suddenly seems to care. “I'm waiting.”

Blinking, I nod my head, running my tongue across my lower lip before biting down on it, feeling my heartbeat race, I never meant for this to happen, if I simply let him pull me into a hug none of this would have happened, I should have let it go, but I couldn’t, it hurts too much. “Do you honestly think that I would talk to Cara? If you haven’t noticed, Vic, I have friends of my own and I don’t need to befriend your ex-girlfriend. Unlike you, when I lose someone in my life, I don’t have to go looking for rebounds.” That’s all I am to him, a rebound, nothing more than that, he played me, told me what I wanted to hear and used it to his advantage, felt loved and then saw her, saw what he was missing, everything that he wanted in his relationship, and it fucking sucks because it’s never hurt this bad.

Tilting his head to the side, he raises an eyebrow, his face serious, stern, angry, I did something wrong, everything I've done today was wrong, just look at me, the tattooed mess. “You think you're a rebound?” I don’t answer him, because I do, I know I'm a rebound, if you love someone, you fight for that person, you fight for your family to approve of that person, and Cara is so beautiful, she doesn’t tour, she has a backup plan, they have history – a long history. “You’ve got to be kidding me right now.”

“Syd, we need you.” It’s Connor, his voice interrupting the two of us, and I know he’s been listening, standing off to the side, the same guitar case from before is still in his hand, he didn’t go far, didn’t continue walking when he heard the screaming, his face holding so many emotions. “It’s a band thing. We want to figure out what to do about that thing we were discussing earlier.” There’s no thing, not from earlier, not at all, I know what he’s doing, he sees it written all over my face, he knows what happened earlier with Paul, he’s terrified, he wants to be there when it happens next time, he wants to make sure that there is no next time if he can.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I nod my head in his direction, not glancing at Vic before I walk off with Connor, the two of us wandering through the back of the venue to the bus in silence, a comforting silence, just knowing that he’s here makes it better. Tears made their way down my cheeks, glistening in the light from the ceilings, leaving trails of visible pain, not caring that I didn’t want them to fall, at least not in front of someone, if only they would have remained hidden until I reached my bunk.

Wiping my hands over my eyes, pushing away all the water, trying to cool down my warm skin, I sigh, lolling my head back, keeping my arms attached to my body, hugging myself. “I,” don’t want to tour anymore, not this tour, not with them, this was a mistake, the worst mistake of my life, I should have just become a teacher, stable and not so overwhelming. Connor turns his head to the side, raising an eyebrow, waiting for me to finish my sentence, anticipating what I'm about to say. “Next time I don’t want something, make sure I don’t get it.”