[VicFuentes] I Want

[VicFuentes] I Want [ChapterSixteen]

Author's Note:

I know that this is late. Today sucked. I got bit three times and the bites broke skin twice. So I had to go to the doctor. I was supposed to get blood work done, but they tried to get blood three times and it didn't work. My arm is bit and my stomach is bit twice. I had at least three panic attacks at the doctor's office and one at work. Apparently, by law, they have to test my blood to Hepatitis and HIV, which no one thinks that I have, but having to be tested for it (by law) caused yet another panic attack. Overall, today sucked, but here's an update!

“Will you get out of your bunk? Someone is here to see you.” Groaning, I roll over, resting on my side, facing the wall of the bus, ignoring the person standing in the walkway, grateful for the curtain covering me from the world, not wanting to get up, feeling pathetic, hurt, stupid, ugly, worthless, used. “Sydney, get out of the bunk and come to the front of the bus.” It’s Heath, I know his voice, his irritated tone, though I know his tone isn’t directed towards me, well, I hope it isn’t directed towards me, I didn’t do anything to him, I don’t want him to be mad at me.

Turning over, my back pressed against the thick mattress, the soft fabric of the sheets brushing against my bare arms, I frown, the fight replaying in my mind, his face the only thing I can see, but it’s not the happy face, it’s the angry face, like I did something wrong when all I did was tell Paul what was wrong and have a panic attack. “And exactly who is the person you are trying to get me to talk to?” I never know what these guys have planned, never know what they're going to say, going to do, going to make me do, it’s all just a guessing game with them, especially Heath, he doesn’t tend to think things through.

Without warning, without caring, without anticipation, I grip the end of the curtain, pushing it back, off to the side, letting it slide open, still in my clothes from the concert, didn’t change, didn’t do anything besides climb into my bunk. Heath glances at me, taking in my appearance, a confused expression washes over his face, the first thing I do after a concert is change, he takes a step back, giving me room to jump out of my bunk, to move.

“It’s Vic.” It doesn’t take long for me to throw my legs back in my bunk and lay down, my head hitting the pillow; I don’t want to face him, I don’t want to talk about him, it’s not fair that he gets to walk back in my life and suddenly care enough to truly run after me. “Sydney, are you serious? You were ready to come out of your bunk until I told you who it was.” Then you shouldn’t have told me that it was him, how else do you expect me to act, you seem to forget that you’ve known me for years and this is how I would react.

Laughing a humorless laugh, I shake my head, sitting up slowly carefully, as to not bump my head against the top of the bunk. “If he really wants to talk to me, he can come and get me himself. Oh, my goodness, even better, tell him to send Cara because I just love when she listens to my conversation with someone else and claims that I told her everything I said.” I'm overreacting, at some point I realized that, but he, I'm his rebound, it’s so much clearer now, and that hurts, that kills me, he lied, he told such a huge lie that made me feel so good about myself.

Heaving a sigh, he runs his hands through his hair, knowing that what I'm saying is valid, at least in my mind, that Connor told him what I had said, that they're all angry with Vic, not just me, but it's a day old relationship, this is pathetic. When does the honeymoon stage of my relationship kick in? Oh right, it’s before I meet his parents and his ex-girlfriend.

"We stopped him from coming back here." His comment doesn't shock me, but it makes me realize that maybe Vic is trying; the guys will do anything for me, and maybe this is them trying to make sure that what happened before doesn't happen again, that Vic and I can't yell at each other with an audience. I don't want them watching me, I don't want them watching Vic, I want to fix my relationship on my own, as much as it sucks that I have to, as much as it scares me, as much damage as my mind has already done, I have to do it.

Biting down on my lower lip, I kick my legs over the side of the bunk, jumping down, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jeans, suddenly missing the feeling of Vic holding my hand, intertwining our fingers together, tugging me close, sending a shockwave of euphoria through my veins, and he has to feel that too - right? "I, we, tell him to come to the back room?" I don't wait for him to respond, to tell me that he'll comply with my request, because I know he will, the look on his face tells me that he wants this to work, that maybe he saw what I saw in the beginning of this.

Hugging my arms to my torso, I walk to the back of the bus, the room, with the plush couches, the television, the place to relax, not as hectic as the front of the bus, not as homey as the bunks of the bus, but the best place to get away from everything and just talk, which is what Vic and I need. Keeping the door open behind me, knowing - well, hoping - that Vic is walking towards the back of the bus to join me, I plop down on the couch, the huge couch, sinking into it, feeling the tears reappearing in my eyes, burning my eyelids.

He walks in, his hair a mess, still wet, either from his set or a shower, his eyes glassy with what appears to be tears, and he forces a sweet smile to spread across his lips, as if it pains him to do so, and I feel my heart aching. Without saying anything, he closes the door behind him, running a hand through his damp hair, biting down on his lower lip as he sits on the empty space on the couch next to me. "You're not a rebound." It cracks, his voice, and it causes me to look up at him, a whole new wave of tears crashing against my eyelids, it takes everything to not cry, to not break down.

"Are you sure about that?" It's all I can muster up without stuttering, without wanting to yell, without wanting to get upset, without telling him that everything we have or I though we had or he thinks we have is no longer anything, because I want it to be something, I'm just not sure what he wants it to be. Pulling my knees up to my chest, letting my back rest against the couch, I run a hand through my hair as I place my elbows on my knees.

Nodding his head, he looks at me, regret filling his eyes, he knows he made me feel like I am a rebound, he knows all of this is his fault, that he made me feel like crap because of his own decisions. "You, the way I feel about you is scary, and it feels so good. My mom sees that we should be together; she knows that it's all in the way I look at you. She doesn't know how to react when she sees me like that when she's only known how I look around Cara."

I know what he means by what he's saying, why he's saying it, but I'm not Cara, I never will be, I don't want to be her.

"And when you just took off, Mike wouldn't let me get a word in at first, because he started yelling about how we were taught to not judge a book by it's cover. You're gorgeous, Syd, everything about you. She thinks you're gorgeous, I swear, and even if she didn't, I wouldn't give a shit because all that matters is how I feel about you. And I'm rambling and I'm dodging the most important part. Sydney, when Cara told me that you talked to her, which Paul said didn't really happen, I freaked. I thought that you turned to her instead of to me and you were being distant. I can't help how my parents react to things. I want to change them sometimes, trust me. But, I can't. All I can do is love you until the day I die."

A single tear rolls down my cheek, my red cheek, from the burning blush that painted my skin while he was talking. He leans forward, placing his calloused hand on my cheek, his thumb brushing the tear away, and I bite down on my lip. "I know, it seems like it's happening so fast. But, what's meant to be is meant to be. Sydney, I've never been so sure of anything in my life. I can't lose you."

Nodding my head, I want to yell at him, I want to be angry, I want to storm off, I want to tell myself that this day old relationship isn't worth it. But I don't yell, I'm not angry, I stay here, I strongly believe that this relationship is the right thing for me.

"You haven't lost me."