[VicFuentes] Dance, If It Moves You

Eight.

"One's philosophy is not best expressed in words; it is expressed in the choices one makes... and the choices we make are ultimately our responsibility." - Eleanor Roosevelt

Combing my fingers through my hair, I bite down on my lower lip, noting that I'm stuck here, between him and the door, my heart is racing, I can feel it beating in my stomach, that's not normal, I don't like this, this feeling, being stuck here with him. Swallowing the lump in my throat, feeling it fight to remain where it is, I shove my hands into the back pockets of my jeans, lowering my gaze to the floor, not wanting to look into his gorgeous, brown eyes, because once I do, I'm screwed, like a teenager again, it's not okay. I don't like this.

"Is there something wrong between the two of us?" His voice, there's pain laced in it, and I don't know why, it's only been a week into the tour, and we're not really friends, we never were, so I don't get why he's in so much pain, it's not fair to me, I didn't do anything to deserve to feel guilty. I sing the song he wants me to sing and I perform and I spend time with the guys, in my band, and that's it, that's really all there is to touring, a few photo shoots here and there, not a single interview on my part, it's just what happens on tour, we're not good friends with the guys in Pierce The Veil yet, and there's no reason for him to be this upset.

Opening my mouth to say something, anything, to give him an answer, I close it, my lips pressing together firmly, I don't know what to say, there isn't anything to say. He found out about Katharine and he didn't say anything, he judged me, and that's not okay, I don't want to spend my time with someone like that, at all, it's not fair to me and it's not fair to my daughter. Vic knows nothing about me, I mean, he knows some things, but he doesn't know me and that's not, it's weird, he cares and it makes no sense to me, why does he care? "I don't know what you're talking about." It's a stupid lie, a pathetic one, he knows that I know what he's talking about, I was friendlier in the beginning.

Lolling his head backwards, he lets out a humorless laugh; this is stupid, why am I here, why is he here, there's no reason to corner me, we don't need to talk, at all, we're just touring, we don't need to be friends or lovers or, even, enemies. "I don't get why you're not letting us all become friends. It makes no sense. What the hell went wrong? You were happy the first day. We went out for hot chocolate and had a good time. Why did you stop talking to me?" No one cares as much as he does, besides Bailey and the guys, he shouldn't care this much, because he doesn't know me, he'll get bored, he'll realize that being my friend means that he's Katharine's friend, it's just, everything is complicated, and he either doesn't get it yet or he does and doesn't care, but I'll go with the first one.

"You didn't talk to me, Vic." I'm in tears, I don't know why, I can feel the water filling in my eyes, it's not something I do, I hate crying, it's weak and it's vulnerable and I hate everything about it; he makes me feel all of these feelings that I don't understand, that I don't miss feeling. "And my daughter is the most important person in my entire life. I get that you didn't expect that, but you said nothing and you had that judgment in your eyes and I can't deal with that, I get it enough and I don't need it on tour when I get it at home." I'm venting, ranting, and I can't stop, my brain is screaming for my lips to slam shut, but my heart, it's telling me that I can trust him, that he isn't going to leave, that it's okay. "You judged me and you don't even know my story."

A week, that's really all it took for me to break, for my heart to win over my brain, and the guys knew it was happening, they encouraged it, they probably told him that I would be hiding backstage while they did the interview, I'm not stupid, they've tried to set me up before, but, even then, my heart wasn't aching for those guys that they threw at me like it is now.

That's scary.

It's terrifying.

I hate it.

It's not like me.

"Then tell me your story. Open up. This tour doesn't have to be bad."