This chapter sucked, I know. But oh well. Enjoy I guess.
Okay, these boys were getting on my nerves. Zak was complaining about everything, the cameras getting foggy, the snow, the ice. Aaron was getting annoyed because his camera was getting snow on it – and Nick wanted to go home and spend the weekend with his wife – not at some romantic get away with his best buds. I thought it was hilarious. All the boys were getting aggravated at each other, until finally they started bickering. I stayed on the sidelines laughing with Ashley. She knew how I felt. I loved Sadbury, it was a beautiful city. While the boys filmed, Billy overtook my role with pictures for Ashley and I could explore the city.
We went everywhere – we toured some “Witch Houses” that apparently Witches from Salem had escaped to and lived in. We thought the people who owned the houses were totally bonkers – but it was for the fun of it, and we sure as hell annoyed some people who were interested in it. We even got yelled at a few times – totally hilarious. Ashley and I were making fun of a lady who was reenacting a hanging (now that I look back at it – we probably shouldn't have laughed in the first place). And someone started screaming us saying we were being disrespectful. Not that we cared any. We ended up leaving after that.
Ashley and I made it back to the hotel around midnight, later than what we expect – and totally drunk out of our wits. Okay, maybe it wasn't such a good idea to go to the pub.
-Zak's POV-
Where were they?
Maybe I was just being paranoid. Pacing the room, hand in my hair, raking through it – occasionally pulling out a few hairs. They should've been back to the hotel by now. Maybe I should go look for them, yeah. That what I should do. I picked up the keys off the counter, and began pulling on my vans – but just then, the door opened. A drunk Marilyn plowed through the door, putting half her weight on Nick. My eyes bugged out of my head at this sight.
“Marilyn?!” I half-yelled, “Oh thank god!” I stood up quickly, half running the few strides to her. I collected her in my arms. Nick put her in my arms.
“I found her and Ashley passed out in the lobby of the Inn when Aaron and I got back,” Nick explained, “The bell hop said he found them, and he didn't touch them.” I internally laughed at this. I simply nodded, and watch Marilyn as her glazed eyes and feminine smile looked up at me.
“Maaaan,” She whispered, “Who are you? Boy, are you smokiiin'!” I ignored her comment, knowing it was a whiskey covered one, even though it was true. I rolled my eyes.
“Thanks for bringing her up here,” I thanked Nick, “Where's Ashley?”
“Jay got her, he was with us. He was freaking out as much as YOU were.” Nick laughed, “That's why I don't bring my wife on these travels – too much trouble.” I laughed at that also. There was a lot of trouble the girls ended up getting themselves into if we didn't get ourselves into it. It's like we reversed trouble.
“Thanks, man.” I smiled, “I totally owe you one.”
“Yeah, you do.” Nick smiled, “G'night. See ya later.”
Nick closed the door and left myself and drunk Marilyn alone. She was nearly passed out in my arms, mumbling junk that I couldn't possibly understand. “Marilyn?” I whispered to you, “Are you okay? Baby, why are you drunk? Why did you drink?”
“It was soo much fun,” Marilyn smiled as I stood her up straight, “C'mere.” She slopply put her hands around my neck and laid a wet kiss on my cheek.
“No, Marilyn.” I attempted to argue. She ran her hands down my torso. “No, Marilyn!” I yelled, “No!” Marilyns eyes turned sad.
“But I-” She began.
“No.” I said, “We aren't doing this while you are drunk.” The room turned silent, and I knew from somewhere in the room, Jerusha was onlooking. I held her in my hands, until I finally helped her over to the bed, “c'mon Marilyn. Go to sleep. I hate you when you're like this.”
“You hate me?” Marilyn yelled, as if she could digest what I was saying, “If you hate me why did you give me this ring? Why did you tell me you loved me?” I stared at her, silent.
“Marilyn, that's not what I ment.” I argued, “I was referring to your drunk state I-”
“No you didn't.” Marilyn argued, “You hate me, You hate everything about me.” I didn't say anything. I just stood there and put my head back. She laid on the bed, and threw herself backwords.
“Whatever, Marilyn.” I said, “I'm not arguing with you. You're drunk as hell, go to sleep and do something with yourself. I'm going out this door and so help me god if you follow me – I won't come back.”
And I left.