CHAPTER – 3
LOVE ISN'T... A BED OF ROSES
"Snake?" I asked in utter confusion as I stared at her, wondering if she was in her senses as she definitely didn't look like she was okay.
Her eyes widened even more and she looked down at my couch, where she was standing currently. Shutting her eyes, she murmured something to herself, which I couldn't understand.
"What?" I waited for her to make sense of her weird actions which were doing nothing in making my already burdened mind lighten up even a bit.
She lifted her shoulders, probably trying to shrug and stepping down from my dear couch all at the same time. "Oh... nothing. I just asked because snakes and I usually don't get along very well. Trust me, they are so scared of me that whenever they hear that I'm in a city, they slither their way out of the damn town. They just can't stand me and my strong personality," she blabbered as if she was talking science and knew exactly what she was talking about.
'What the actual f*ck is wrong with her?' I wondered and was about to say out loud, but didn't. Instead, I chose to say, "You sure do have a hell amount of imagination for a writer." 'And I hope you have an equal amount of understanding of sarcasm,' I mentally added.
"How do you know that I'm a writer?" she asked and took a step towards me, as if I wasn't supposed to have even an ounce of knowledge about her.
True, I didn't have even an ounce of knowledge about her in these four months, but now she was here... in my apartment. Of all the places I could have seen her, met her, it had to be my own apartment. And it was awful that I still couldn't get over this little fact. I took a few steps towards her, which made her step back. Leaning closer to her, I couldn't help but recall that night, when I had her so close to me... Ordering myself to stay focused and not getting lost in her eyes, I whispered, "Because I have been stalking you for a couple of months and I have been waiting for you to acknowledge my existence in this huge world." I, just for the joy of watching her surprised expressions, exaggerated my actions of last four months. I was so not a stalker! I was just an artist who was searching for his muse. Searching, not stalking!
As expected, her eyes widened dramatically, and I stopped myself from laughing at her. Instead, I rolled my eyes at her in complete hopelessness and mumbled, "Such a hopeless romantic. Simply pathetic." With that, I turned around, made my way towards my bedroom, and finished my grand exit by shutting the door with a loud bang.
Locking the door behind, I let out a sigh that I had been holding for long. Throwing my head back I ran my hand over my face. This was f*cking unbelievable! While I was busy evaluating and trying to understand the situation, she started shouting from the other side of the door, "Open the door, you idiot. What are you doing inside? Is this some way of treating a guest?" I closed my eyes tightly.
Couldn't she understand that the only motive of coming inside my room was that I wanted to make sense of everything that was happening peacefully? Going by the speed at which she was banging my door, I concluded that no, she wasn't that brilliant. Letting out a tired sigh, I rushed towards the music player that had been last used about a month ago and immediately hit play after switching it on. "Just open the-" Her yells were now covered by the loud music of some singer whose CD Harry had brought some time back.
For both of us, it was oddly satisfying to listen to CDs in the world of internet.
I knew that I was being nothing but an a*s to Liana, but I couldn't help it. I needed time to be alone and get a grip over the situation, my actions, reactions, and just about everything. What else could I do? Could I just go and tell her that, 'Hey, remember the night when you came to know that your f*cked up boyfriend was cheating on you? Well, we almost had sex that night. Yep, sounds cool, right?'
"Yeah right!" I grunted as I threw myself on the bed, once again realizing the irony of the entire situation. "This is so f*cked up," I mumbled to myself, rubbing my forehead in frustration.
I could vaguely hear her yell something or the other from the other side, and I tried to shut her voice, not letting her affect me in anyway. And what the loud music and my messed up mind brought together was the memory of the night when I met her four months back...
***********
With a tightly clenched jaw, I cancelled Dylan's fifth call. Wasn't cancelling someone's call enough indication about the fact that the person you are trying to phone is simply not interested in talking to you at the given moment? Of course, it was. But my elder brother was plain dumb and too persistent for his own good. And I was way too rude and short tempered for anyone's good.
As well as Dylan knew me, he shouldn't have been calling me continuously after everything that happened at Ryan Parker's f*cked up party. But like I said, Dylan was plain dumb and damn too persistent. And I knew Dylan well enough to know he would continue calling me till I answer the phone which would only result in me throwing off my anger at him, which I didn't want to do. So, before he could call again, I switched off my phone and slipped it in my pant's pocket.
A humorless chuckle escaped my lips as for the nth time my mind recalled everything that had happened at the Parker residence merely half an hour back. Seriously, what else was I expecting - a grand welcome, or a warm hug from a 'father' to his 'son', or that warm twinkle in his eyes that used to appear whenever he saw Dylan for seeing me after years? "Yeah, sure." I shook my head at my thoughts and my eyes landed on an old bar on the street.
Making a quick decision of getting drunk, thereby, forgetting about the sh*t that just happened, and finding an easy lay for tonight, I parked my car at a parking space that, luckily, just got empty.
One step inside the bar and one look at the ambience was all it took for me to be happy about my decision. This was the perfect place after such a crappy day. This wasn't even going to be the last place where Harry or Dylan would search for me.
The interior was worn out with paint scraping out at places that even the old, loosely hung paintings couldn't hide. Judging by the loud creaking noises that the chairs made upon any kind of movement, the furniture needed a rather quick replacement. A look at the crowd and I concluded that they were feeling exactly opposite of me. They looked happy.
With a sneer, I sat at the only empty table near the bar area. The chair made a creaking noise which made me flinch slightly. Almost immediately, a waiter came over and asked for my order. In another two minutes, he came back with a cheaper version of the scotch that I had ordered. As if that glass of scotch was the only thing that could give some peace to my overburdened and stressed out mind, I took a huge gulp of it in an instant. The moment it burnt my throat, my eyes closed on their own accord.
This was peace! And I was suddenly in my own heaven. Maybe I'll be seeing angels soon. 'Yeah right,' I mentally snorted.
Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes and they landed on a girl sitting on one of the stools at the bar area. The huge, goofy smile on her face spelled out that she was drunk out of her wits. Her clothes – an over-sized sweater and track pants were as mismatched with each other as she was with this bar. Clearly, she didn't belong here. And much more clearly, there was nothing attractive about her.
But still, I couldn't stop myself from staring at her eyes that were puffy due to continuous crying, her runny nose, her red cheeks, and her lips that were stretched in a goofy smile which was contradicting every other feature of her face. Being an artist meant being observant. I knew an emotion in a glance. And by the looks of her, I knew that from outside she looked just like every other person here – happy. But from the inside, she was just like me – f*cked up.
For the next few minutes, during which I finished my drink, I found myself trying not to look in her direction. I concluded that she was alone here in this bar. In the last ten or so minutes, nobody had approached her and she was busy talking absolute gibberish to the bartender, who was himself busy with his job. She looked wasted, and add to that, she looked like she was ordering some more alcohol. The girl was crazy, it was obvious.
Didn't she know how f*cked up this world is? Especially when you are drunk out of your mind and alone? And what the hell was she even thinking when she entered this bar?
It was complete curiosity and slightest bit of concern for a complete stranger that made me gulp the contents of my glass in an instant and walk towards her.
"I don't have any twin. You're hallucinating," the bartender told her as he snapped his fingers in front of her.
She giggled as if a joke had been cracked. "Hello's son eating? Who is Hello's son? Is it 'Hi' or 'Hey'? And what is he eating?"
My lips twitched up at her slurred out words, but the bartender didn't look as amused as me. "Nobody. I don't think you should have anything else," the bartender told her with a huff. His opinion was very similar to mine, given the condition of this girl.
The girl shook her head, and cried out in utter helplessness, "But I want to have s*x with the bartender followed by a screaming org*sm!"
An involuntary chuckle escaped my lips and I chose to drop my input in their conversation. "Never has these cocktails sounded more appealing."
The bartender looked towards me and said, "She just had s*x on the beach. Thrice."
"Yup!" She turned towards me with a laugh and I had the first proper look of her face. The face that I thought was plain just a few minutes back. My eyes stayed fixed at her eyes as she continued saying something or the other. Her eyes were green, a beautiful shade of green with specks of brown and I just couldn't stop myself from looking into them. "And let me tell you that it was out of this w-wo-world." She stuttered and I got time to regain some senses that seem to have gone away with the last drink I had finished. "Wow!" she breathed.
I turned towards the bartender while she looked my way and ordered yet another scotch for myself. I needed it.
"Bob, where are my drinks?" she piped in when he placed my order.
The bartender, whose name tag was 'Kevin', looked towards me in complete helpless expressions as if asking me what should be done next. When he didn't get any reply from me, he turned back towards her and said, "It'll take some time to make those cocktails. Wait. Okay?" The girl pouted like a little child, who has been deprived of candy and started playing with the long sleeve of her over-sized sweater.
I leaned against the bar and asked Kevin, "Why is she calling you Bob when your name tag says you are Kevin?"
"I stopped asking her the exact same question when she threatened to call me 'Shrek' after her sixth drink." He sighed with a small smile, making the girl laugh. My head snapped towards her, she had a nice laugh.
I let my curiosity take the best of me and I asked her the question that had been bugging me since I laid my eyes on her. "What is a girl like you doing here? You don't belong here."
Instead of answering me like a normal person would have, she laughed. "What's the count, Bob?" she asked Kevin with wide eyes and a proud smile on her face.
"Thirteen," Kevin replied with a laugh while I looked between them in confusion.
"Oops! Unlucky thirteen," she mumbled. Before I could voice out my confusion, she started dragging my drink towards her which I stopped. I wasn't stupid enough to let her drink some more given the condition she was in. She pouted again. "Sharing is caring."
Care? F*ck caring! Narrowing my eyes at her I asked, "Who said I care?" With that I looked back at Kevin and asked him, "What thirteen?"
She interrupted us before Bob could answer. "Thirteen! You don't know thirteen? Eleven, twelve, thirteen..." She looked at me as if I was out of my mind and I needed to understand some basics of life... like counting numbers...
I rolled my eyes at her drunken state, while Kevin chuckled and answered him, "You're the thirteenth guy who has said the exact same things to her since the last three hours that she's been here."
"Wow! I am in demand. Don't I feel special? It calls for a celebration." She giggled and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't help but smile a little at her behavior. This girl was crazy. Again, she tried to pick up my drink, which I stopped her from doing. "You're not even letting me celebrate my popularity. What's wrong with you? No, first tell me, who are you and why are you here to spoil my fun? You're such a spoil sport," she blabbered with a sad frown on her face.
I narrowed my eyes at her, trying to make her understand that everything she was saying was plain gibberish and she needed to shut up. "What happened to the earlier twelve?" I asked Kevin, not removing my eyes from her face. How the hell could someone look so... so... nice even after crying?
"She sneezed in their faces." Kevin informed me and both of them started laughing, making me smile in the process. I could just imagine the scene in front of me. I was glad that she hadn't sneezed in my face... yet.
She stopped laughing and stared back at me. "I'm going to sneeze in your face, too. I have severe cold. Nolan was going to give me medicine but he gave me betrayal, which let me tell you, is a very bitter medicine. Have you ever had it? You won't like it. I'm telling you. I know everything." Ahh... betrayal! So this was the case. Getting a slight drift of the reason of her current situation, I tilted my head to the side and kept staring at her. I watched as she breathed out as if she just realized what she has told me. "Where is my s*x and org*sm?" she asked Kevin.
Kevin turned towards me and asked, "Can I trust you enough to look after her while I attend other customers?" There was something in his voice that told me that he was actually serious about taking care of this girl. Wasn't I here for the same reason? Wasn't it slightest bit of concern that had made me leave my table and come towards her? I took a sip of my drink and nodded my head. He seemed satisfied with my reply as he looked back at her and told her, "Don't go anywhere. My shift ends in an hour. I'll take you to my home. My wife will take care of you tonight. Is that clear?"
"Aww," she cooed. "You're so sweet. I love you, Bob." I pressed my lips to stop the laughter that was threatening to erupt. She continued, "But, don't worry. I'll go to my friend, Steph's apartment. She lives... somewhere."
Once again, I let my curiosity get the best of me and asked her, "What's your name?" Her head snapped towards me and she gave me one more opportunity to look at her. Her hair was totally unkempt, her eyes were puffy, giving away the fact that she had cried before getting highly drunk. Her cheeks and nose were red, maybe due to the fact that she had cold. And yet, I couldn't help myself from looking away from her.
"You've beautiful eyes," she mumbled, bringing me back from my thoughts. Taken aback at her confession and my thoughts that were way too dangerous for me, I diverted my gaze from her. But, she continued, "So grey, grey... and grey." She giggled and my lips twitched up. "Just like Christian Grey."
"Oh please!" The last statement, made me groan in annoyance.
She ignored my protest at being called a sex maniac and continued with her rant, "But Christian was a nice man. He never cheated on Ana. Nolan cheated on Ana."
So, her name is Ana... Understanding dawned upon me as I put two and two together. "So does that make Nolan a bad man?" I asked, looking straight in her eyes.
Her answer was instant, "Yes." And so was the turnaround. "No."
I chuckled at her naivety and said in a bitter tone, "F*cking love. He gives you the bitter medicine 'betrayal' and still you call him a 'nice man'? Are you usually this crazy or is it the alcohol effect?"
Uncertainty overtook her expressions and she started looking around as if searching for something. That search ended when she picked up a bottle of cheap liquor from the counter and took a sip from it... then another and another. I didn't stop her this time. "Why are you here? You don't belong to this place," she asked, as she looked at me from head to toe, probably taking in my suit.
With a little smile on my face, trying to change the sudden bitter mood that had spread in the air, I asked her, "You're the first girl to use this line on me tonight. Is this your way of hitting on me?"
Frowning, she asked with slumped shoulders, "Why would I hit on you? I'm heartbroken." She looked back at the liquor and took a few more sips. Something was eating her up and she needed to vent it out. She didn't have to be like me. Been there. Done that!
Feeling my gaze on her, she diverted her attention from the precious bottle and looked at me. "What?"
"Spill it!" I ordered.
She hugged the whiskey bottle close to her heart and with eyes wide open in panic, exclaimed, "No!"
Shaking my head at her, I laughed and clarified, "Not the whiskey. Spill your sob story."
She smiled at me. Not that goofy smile or a drunken smile. A proper smile as if she wasn't drunk at all. And for a moment, I just stared at her, getting disarmed by her heartwarming smile. "He cheated on me and impregnated a hooker." She stated as if there was no pain behind her words and it was a truth she had accepted.
"And you still love him?" I asked away, the one question whose answer was way too obvious given her situation.
Again, she answered in an instant, "No." And again, in another instant, she did a turnaround. "Yes."
I rolled my eyes at her naivety. She was, after all, nothing but a stupid girl who had been heartbroken and who still had tears in her eyes for an a*shole who broke her heart. Taking a sip of my drink, I told her a simple fact, "If you still love that a*shole, then you are an idiot."
"I am. Aren't I? You know, when I was meeting an old couple for a week, taking their interviews, writing their story for the world to know, he was cheating on me, in our apartment, in our bed." I watched as she took another sip of the whiskey and smiled as she stared ahead. Despite of the smile on her lips, there was nothing but pain in those green eyes and that just made me hate love more than ever. She continued, "When I was busy picturing Nolan and me as the old couple that we would have been after so many years, and thinking about how we would be like that, so in love even after years; when I was so f*cking sure of my future with him; that bastard was f*cking someone else in my bed." A breathless laugh escaped her lips and she ran her fingers through her hair. "I am such an idiot." Her laughs, her smiles were doing nothing in hiding the tears that had clouded her eyes. They were doing absolutely nothing in hiding her pain, her frustration, her anger. As if taking out all her anger on her hair, she tried to pull out her hair out of the tight bun they were tied in. "Oh just pull out," she hissed.
If it would have been a normal situation, I wouldn't have left this chance to say a joke or two about what she had just said. But, doing so right now would have worsened the situation. The least I could do was help her. I pulled the band that was tying her hair together and in a second, her hairs were loose, framing her face, making her look prettier. I handed her the band, keeping my thoughts at the deepest darkest corner of my mind. She looked at me with eyes that were brimming with tears and lips that were stretched in a smile. "Thanks," she mumbled and ran her fingers through her hair. "Messy hair, messy relations, messy night, and messy life," she said with a sardonic smile.
Smirking, I added, "Messy love."
She nodded with a chuckle and I removed my gaze from her and observed the crowd in the front. Love is a mess. Good that she realized it. "What's your sob story?" she asked, taking me by slight surprise.
Story? My story? That too sob? I didn't do sob stories. I wanted to tell her but kept quiet. There were already way too many f*cked up rumors about me in this city. Could I trust this girl who had just shared her sob story with me? But she was just a stranger, and going by her drunken state, I was pretty sure that either she couldn't recognize me or she just didn't care. And either of the two was a safe option for me.
Maybe... maybe just like her, I, too, needed to vent it out of my system and once that would be done, I would be fine. Staring at her for some time, I contemplated my options. She was a stranger and what were the odds that we would meet again in a city like New York where there were millions of people, too busy with their respective lives?
Making my choice, I shot a smile in her direction and managed to say, "My drug addict parents died when I was six and my mother's sister adopted me. We all tried to be a 'happy family' but then I grew up and everybody assumed the worst about me." A bitter chuckle escaped my lips as I recalled all the times in my past which f*cked me up in the worst way possible. Thankfully, I was over all that now and I looked back at her with a smirk. "Messy childhood, messy relations, messy party, and messy life."
She smiled warily at me and asked, "Messy love?"
A chuckle escaped my lips at her question and I told her one simple truth of my life, "I'm not naïve to fall in bullsh*t."
"Bullsh*t?" she repeated me as if she couldn't understand what I just said.
"Uh.. huh!" Taking a sip of my drink, I stared in her green eyes. "Even my parents didn't love me at all. They loved their addiction more than me. Why do you think I would believe in a f*cking myth?" I waited for her to answer my question, and as expected, when she didn't answer, I asked her a question again, "You were in love, right?" She nodded in response, probably not understanding where I was going with these questions. With a smirk, I asked her, "And what exactly did you get out of love?"
Deep in thought for a moment, she didn't respond. With a chuckle, I continued, "All you got in return is pain, heartbreak, betrayal, and lies. Nothing, but lies. Because, Miss Ana, love is a f*cking lie. Why love somebody when you know that it won't last for even a few months or years, forget about 'forever'? Why fall in sh*t when you know that it will dig you deeper and deeper in insufferable pain? Love left you with nothing but self pity. Love is a useless and senseless emotion that only weak feel. Love is nothing but a waste of time. Erase that f*cking emotion from your heart and you'll live a life much more happily and without any pain. Love is bullsh*t, Ana. Nothing but bullsh*t." There I ended my words of wisdom. She was an idiot if she couldn't understand and face the facts of life. And fact was that love wasn't a bed of roses.
"Love is bullsh*t," she repeated me, nodding her head in agreement. "You are right. So right. Love is bullsh*t. Love is bullsh*t."
After a few moments of silence, as we both dwelled into our thoughts, she asked, "What did they assume about you?"
Was I ready to tell her everything about me? What I had told earlier was basic, and sadly, same things happen to a huge population in the world. It isn't like I had the saddest story in the world. I knew people had worst than me, but what she asked now was way too personal. I stared at her, contemplating everything again. She was just a stranger who wouldn't care or even remember anything about tonight. But still, I couldn't just open up to anybody. I was never the guy who shared his feelings or past with anyone. And she was not someone who could change me.
Before I could change the topic, she did that for me. "Did I tell you how beautiful your eyes are?" she asked me, looking into my eyes, and thankfully, forgetting about the question she had just asked me.
I looked at her in amusement and just for the sake of some fun and hearing her sing my praises, I played along. "Not that I can recall."
"Really?" She grabbed my collar and pulled me towards her, taking me by complete surprise. "You have beautiful eyes," she whispered.
'So do you,' I wanted to say, as I stared back in her eyes, but I neither was I as naïve as she was, nor was I that drunk.
"So... wow," she continued in complete awe and my lips twitched up in smile. She was so not immune to my looks and it was good to know that this physical tension was not just one sided. I watched as her eyes travelled to my lips and I grabbed that opportunity to do the same. And suddenly, I wanted to do nothing more than kiss those perfect lips of hers. To make matters worse for me, and as a test of my will power, she ran her tongue over her lips.
Just as I was about to tell her that I didn't have any more self control by kissing her senseless, she pulled me towards her and kissed me. Of course, how could I let this go? The moment she kissed me, I let all sane thoughts go away and kissed her back, telling her with that kiss how much I had wanted to kiss her since I saw her across this bar. Cupping her chin, I angled her face to deepen the kiss and she leaned against me, making me go mad with the lust I was feeling for her. I let my hands roam from her waist to her back and eventually, let them slip inside her sweater and then her thin singlet. Her soft skin was cold against my touch and I felt her shiver in delight as a gasp escaped her lips. I took that very opportunity to slip my tongue in her mouth and let the war between two very hot and eager tongues start. She moaned, while I grunted in pure pleasure. Running out of breath, I bit her bottom lip and pulled back from the kiss.
Her cheeks turned crimson red, but despite of blushing, she didn't remove her gaze from me. In silence, she was telling me that she wanted exactly what I wanted.
"Do you have Blue Balls?" she breathed out, gasping for air.
Laughter threatened to erupt from my lips and I told her honestly, "Oh, you have no idea." With that I leaned into her for another kiss. I wanted her. The kiss and her eyes had messed things up in my sane head.
She pulled away laughing at me and turned towards the bar to order. "I want a glass of Blue Balls," she called Kevin.
He shook his head. "You are not getting any alcohol now." She pouted as her shoulders slumped down a bit.
I kissed her pout, making her giggle. "You can have my blue balls in a glass." I smirked, making her laugh. How could someone have such a nice laugh? The last girl I slept around laughed like a f*cking donkey!
My need for her increased with each passing second and I couldn't really do anything about it with the way she was looking at me with those beautiful eyes of hers. And those lips which were stretched in a beautiful smile. Without removing my gaze from her, I kept some cash on the counter and pulled her up. Without giving her time to understand things, I started dragging her towards the exit of the bar. "Bye, Bob!" I heard her yell and that made me smile some more.
For a moment, I thought of dropping her home, and not continuing things like this. She was drunk out of her wits and for some f*cked up weird reason, I wanted her to see and feel me without being under the influence of alcohol. I turned around to ask her where her friend lived, so I could drop her there. But the moment I looked at her face, all I could think about was 'F*ck, self control for one night.' With that, I pinned her against the wall of the alley near the parking lot and kissed her again. Kissing her again, made me curse my sane mind. How could I let go this... how could I let go her? Maybe this is exactly what she needed too after being heartbroken.
I decided to stop thinking and get lost in the way she was kissing me back, sliding her tongue in my mouth, moaning to her heart's content, making me draw her closer to me than she already was. I started kissing down to her throat and a giggle escaped her lips. And as I continued kissing her throat, nibbling her ear lobe, her giggles got converted into sobs, making me push myself away from her.
This was not how this was supposed to happen. She was supposed to enjoy and forget about that a*shole boyfriend of hers. She was not supposed to cry. And here she was doing exactly that. I watched as she slid down the rough, uneven wall while crying and crouched down to hide her face between her hands. A few curses left my lips as I realized what the actual f*ck could have happened had she not gotten back to her senses. I cursed my sane mind for not staying rooted to its decision of dropping her home.
Seeing her like this, made me hate love all the more. I did the only thing I could do. I hugged her and let her cry on my shoulders.
What was left with me the next morning was a perfectly clear memory of her and a very severe cold.
******************
A/N
Peoples! How are you? Terribly sorry for not updating since months!
But tell me, have I lost my writing charm or is it still there? XD How was it? Love it? Hate it?
This is probably the chapter all you have been waiting for since forever. This is what happened that night in Ashton's pov! But how did she reach Steph's home? Well, you'll get to know things eventually.
So, yes, I'm back to my writing mode after such a long break which included me getting married & settling down with my new family. And then settling in a completely different city (Bangalore) with my husband, and managing home (like the imperfect cook I am), office (like a typical overworked & underpaid employee), and just about everything! Life is being such a life... I tell you! :)
I hope you guys are doing well. And are not 'that' upset with me... :') But, see, this was a terribly long chapter! So, I deserve LOVE... and VOTES... and COMMENTS!
Much love,
Richa <3