3.9 Part One: A Not So Joyful Bundle

   “Can I come in?” I burst into Liz Tarry's room, the Goth girl I'd befriended since we'd arrived.
   “What the hell?!” She exclaimed, sitting up in bed. “It's five am!”
   “I know. I just...I need...talk. I need to talk.” I gestured to the couch with my head. “Mind if I sit?”
   “Might as well.” She sighed, rolling her eyes, climbing out of bed. “What?” She snapped, crankily.

   “I brought you a frappe.” I tossed her the glass bottle. She popped off the lid and took a sip, a tiny smile forming at the edges of her lips. She never smiled. “Your welcome.”
   “Didn't say thank you.”
   “I know. You should have.”
   “Seriously, girl. What's up with you? And I saw the 'Enjoy, XOXO Peter' on it.”
   “Well...look...” I tossed her my GLITZ cover that had come out a month ago.
   “It's you in your underwear with your hair covering your boobs.” 

   “Flip to page six!”
   “It's sugary relationship crap about you and Peter. Why the hell would I want to read about your sex life when I'm constantly hearing it across the hall?"
   "Our sex life- you can't-"
   "You guys are bunnies. Everything you said is here. What's the big deal?" 
   "Read that." I pointed towards a sentence.  
   “Ehem. Let me get my reading voice. Dark tortured soul, stereotypical goth sugar.”
   "Hey, I'm kinda goth-y." I pointed at my outfit.
   "No, you're I shopped twenty minutes at some expensive version of Hot Topic."
   "Are you Goth or just really mean?" I mumbled.
   "Sorry. I have like three hours of sleep."
   "Eh." I shrugged.
   "'GM: You suddenly cancelled your tour and decided to hit the books. You also have a new relationship blooming with a college man. Are the two related? Are you thinking of a more serious relationship?'
   G: [Laughing] My relationship is something I'd prefer to keep quiet but I will say that he's going back to school- he isn't eighteen, he's actually older than I am. I cancelled my tour for [pauses] personal reasons...
   GM: Personal reasons?
   G: I had a complicated relationship that ended badly.
   GM: Are you confirming Scandal Weekly's article from two weeks ago, saying you where dating an inmate?
   G: My current boyfriend is not an inmate. I had to be a witness at a trial.
   GM: Ah. Are you and your current romance planning on anything beyond college?
   G: Beyond college? We haven't thought much about it. I am living with him, though. I'm eager to earn my degree and I'm so lucky that he's supporting me. I love the man to death.
   GM: But there currently aren't any plans of marriage? Or starting a family?
   G: I'm twenty, he's twenty-two. We're planning on waiting a little while before anything serious.
   GM: So you aren't pregnant?
   G: Wow, direct. Um...no. I'm not expecting at all.' Okay, why was I suppose to realize?"
   "I'm not pregnant in that picture."
   "I can tell...oh my...are you?"
   "I'm a month and a half pregnant. That magazine cam out  in October and I was two weeks. I...the first night I came to college..." I felt the tears well up in my eyes. "What do I do? I just....Peter. He needs this. Needs it. I haven't told him or anyone really. I don't know what to do."
    "Wow..." She took a breath. "This is...not surprising. Considering how much- it is, it's just. You're an adult. This is managable. Tell Peter. It is-"
    "Defiantly! I wouldn't cheat on him, ever."
    "You need to tell Peter. You love him, you said you did. Let him know. You could live in a mini home near campus while he completes his degree or, he could put everything on pause. G, he'd do that for you."
     "No..." Peter couldn't put everything on hold for me. He already was living with me and everything he'd done for me...he needed to be able to live.
     "G, you can't hide. You need Peter to know. If he was pregnant you would want to know."
     "He can't get-"

     "That's besides the point. Tell him. Okay? I love ya, girl, but seriously? You have a child. For a month and a half, you've had a child in your stomach and the daddy doesn't know. Things happen, but you have to tell."
     "Okay..." I lied, taking a breath. I'll tell. I'll do it. No, I can't. I will-won't- inner turmoil. "Thanks." I stood up, hurrying to my room. Peter had left a sticky note on the door. "Gone to class, see you in an hour. Love Peter." I read. I felt horrible. I needed to tell him. Now. I sat down on a couch and began testing him.

----

    "You're going to announce a pregnancy over text? Your PREGNANT?!"
    "Mom. You knew I would have to be, eventually. I mean, babies don't magically appear."
    "But over text? Even I was classy enough to wait until my wedding day."
    "Wedding day?"
    "The first one. Before Antoinette...I can't believe I waited so long..."

----

Gabrielle: Hey.
Peter: Hey, what's up?
Gabrielle: I....
Gabrielle: I need to tall
Gabrielle: Talk. Auto correct. Just after class, okay? ASAP.
Peter: Six pm? Are you okay?
Gabrielle: Yeah got to go. Class. Love y-
Peter: Gabrielle?
Peter: Gabrielle, all you alright?
[One missed call from PETER]

Peter's POV

   Gabrielle. She has to be okay. She has to be. What could be wrong? Nothing to bad, right? I'm her emergency contact. The school would call me. She's okay. Isn't she? She has to be. Please, please, let her be. She has to be. I couldn't live without her.

To Be Continued....

3.8: Uni Parties

   We arrived on campus, over bags all packed, ready to go. I nervously took Peter's hand as we walked up to our dorm. We had agreed on coed dorms, considering that the only other reasonable option was a home that neither of us wanted to have to keep up with. Also, Peter insisted that I be social. I hadn't been to college before, unlike everyone who I was living with; I felt unintelligent. But I was here now and there was no turning back.
     "Let's go check out our room." I smiled, pulling him to our third floor bedroom.
     "It's..." He said.
     "I decorated before." I shrugged. "Do you like it?"
     "Yes." He smiled at me, nodded. I was assuming he thought that I would be better off sharing a room at some idiotic sorority that need a secret handshake and matching four hundred dollar jean; not that I couldn't afford it, I just found it completely ridiculous.

      "Why don't we-" I began kissing him. He picked me up and carried me to the bed. He laid down with me on top.
      "Dudes!" Somebody called. "It's like noon. We can hear the moaning."  I rolled my eyes.
      "Gabrielle, I don't..."
      "Neither do I...should we?"
      "We could...."
      "Risk it?" We both agreed.

----

   "Remeber what I said Gabrielle."
   "No details. Got it."
   "None."
   "It was mind blowing sex. That's all I'm going to say."
   "That's a detail." She sighed. 
   "Well, you should expect it...it was college."
   "You know, I went online."
   "Peter couldn't he needed-"
   "I know. Just mentioning it."

----

      "Wow...." I took a breath after we were done. "Wow..."
      "Yeah." He gave me a little smile.
      "Hey!" Someone opened our door.
      "Eek!" I screamed, racing to find something to cover myself with.
      "Dudes...seriously?" He asked, as if we where the weird ones.
      "You just walked in on us!" I screamed.
      "Sorry...and you," He pointed at Peter, "Nailed like a ten."
      "Get OUT!" We both screamed.
      "Chill...frat party at ten...you see more there, anyways." He left, slamming the door.
      "Pervert." I muttered. "I should call campus police for SEXUAL HARASSMENT." I screamed. "So...Peter." I stood up and walked over to our dresser. "Frat party?"
      "Never been." He shrugged.
      "We have to go then! Please....please, please, please!"
      "It's horny college kids drinking too much and puking their guts out."
      "Come on, you barely drink. You're like one of those I'll drink at weddings and funerals and whenever my family comes to town and birthdays and Valentine's Day people. So, one of us stays sober and makes sure we don't do anything stupid and one of us will get drunk. I'm voting myself to be the one who'd totally hung over the next morning."
       "Okay..." He laughed. "But as soon as you start dancing on the table in your underwear, I'm cutting you off."
       "I only did that once! And it was at a bachelor's party someone hired me to sing at! Maybe...I got a little drunk at the bar that night; then where offering me shots...but nothing happened; I was fine. Besides, they paid me to."
       "I'm not letting you strip down in front of college kids."
       "Wasn't planning on it anyways."I huffed.

----
     
   "Where you a stripper?!" My mother exclaimed.
   "NO! How could you-"
   "You danced in your underwear while tipsy. And they paid you to. What am I suppose to think?"
   "That I make really bad life choices."
   "Isn't that a stripper's job description?"
   "Mom. Stop. I was young and stupid and I sang. None of them got within a two yard radius of me anyway. I was dating Peter at the time and he knew the guys. He didn't want me to...but I reluctantly agreed. He made sure I didn't do anything too dumb the whole time. Did I tell you I got a GLITZ cover? It was the thirteenth of September when we arrived at Uni, so they got we a week before. They're releasing it October one. The lasagna was delicious." I said, changing the subject.
     "Thanks." She smiled. "But we're not done talking about this. Go on."
     "Okay, so we went to a frat party..."

----

   "Woo!" I screamed. Pete was holding me up as we did a keg stand."Peter." I giggled. "Let's go dowwwnsta-yyys."
    "Okay." He glanced around at the lights and music and red cups lining the floors. He was uncomfortable; he wasn't one for parties, but I loved them so he had agreed to come.
     We shuffled downstairs. There wasn't anyone down there; it was surprisingly empty.
     "I know, let's play beer pong."

----

    "Did I teach you anything as a child? Or was I just like, yeah parties. Sex. Drinking. Phft. Wait until marriage. Because that's insane advice that doesn't work. If you're going to mhpfht with some guy, use protection dammit."
     "You cussed! Kinda. and you're a little late on the sex ed stuff, mom."
     "I know...I feel guilty, though."
     "Don't...technically..." Dad made me so P.O.-ed that I moved out. Not you. But I didn't say that; it was a stain the was being bleached out with everything from Clorox to toothpaste and hand soap. "So, neither of us knew how to play the game. So we just drank every time one of us said: 'How do you play' 'Are we doing this right' or 'Huh'."

      "Efficient system." She rolled her eyes.
      "Yeah...you should see Peter confused. He wanted to play by the rules and was totally adorable...man he..." I shook my head. My mother smiled."He still managed to stay sober, though."

----

    "Come on..." I called out. Letsss gooo."
    "To our dorm?'
    "Silly..." I stumbled into him, and gave him a big kiss. "We paint the town." I pointed towards a bag of spray paints.
    "That's stealing."
    "Nah...we return it....we leave it on side walk...or throw some cash where it was. We okay." I nodded with a huge smile on my face.
    "Gabrielle, we shouldn't."
    "Pleassssse? Prettttty please? I get myself a Fine Arts degreeee I neeedd to practice."
    "You're majoring in performance arts."
    "Same thinnng." I ghrabbed the bag and began stumbling up the stairs.
    "Gabrielle!" He called, rushing after me. I'd managed to exit the frat house and stumble; leaning against the billboard.
    "Look...." I pointed. They dare somebodddy to graffiti duhhh Student Union. We go."
    "Fine." He sighed. "Then we're going home." I nodded. Peter helped me get to the Student Union. I grabbed a can of spray paint out of the bag, shaking it and taking off the lid. I helf down the top and looked away.

    "Look!" I tried tossing the can in the air, like I did when I was making drinks. "Ow! Ow! Ow!" I screamed. I'd hit myself in the head. My vision blurred more. I was seeing triples.
     "Gabrielle? Are you okay?"
     "You're a triplet? You shouldaa tooold me. I could have tried any figure out the difference between you."
     "Gabrielle, I'm not a triplet. We're taking you to the nurse to get some advil. You might have a concussion or something."
     "I fine. Hehe. I have THREE hands!"
     "We're going. Now. No questions asked." He picked me up and carried me to the nurse.

----

    "Gabrielle."
    "Yeah?"
    "You....you where an idiot."
    "Yep."
    "And that man," She paused, "Is probably some sort of I don't know. Bt you're lucky he was there."
    "I know." I smiled. "He took my to the Union where the nurse was..."
    "And? Where you alright?"
    "I was drunk and had hit my head. She gave me some meds to help with the pain and told Peter that rest and relaxation and I'd be fine. Also, I'd probably be incredibly hungover and vomit my guts out tomorrow morning..."
     "Remind me why I ask."
     "Uh....you got this surprised look on your face and shouted 'What the-! What happened?' And I sat down and told you."
      "Oui..." She nodded. "Go on."

----

      "You're cute." A blonde flirted with Peter in the Student Union lobby. "Maybe we could study a little." She winked.

      "Hey...I'm riggghtttt here." I was medicated, drunk, and probably couldn't tell you my address or who the current president was, but I knew when someone was flirting with my boyfriend.
      "Girl." She looked me up and down, giving me a look as if to say 'Really? That bitch thinks she'll mess with me?'. "Hey, aren't you Madame G?'

       "Oui...me French. I sing." I nodded, happily.
       "I'm sorry, we should be going." Peter interupted me.
       "But....but we could...I mean....famous and you and me. And her. I'd be like the most popular girl...besides, the guys would flip. Now that I know, you're both kinda hot."
       "No." He said firmly, taking my arm. He dragged me home.As soon as we where in our room, I hit the bed; fast asleep.
  
----

      "Was that girl a-?"
      "Nope. Just wanting a claim to fame. She only wanted Peter, but when you have a D-Lister, two stars, and are technically famous, people get...creepy."

----

    "Oh gaw..." I woke up with a splitting headache. It was six am; too early. I had my first class at nine and Peter's first was at eight.
     "Hey." Peter was up, showered and dressed in a new outfit.
     "What time is it? Like three am?"
     "You went to bed at three-thirty. It's six."
     "I need sleep or Advil or something...hangover food."
     "I can get you-"
     "Oh-gaw!" I stood up, my last night's clothing wrinkly, covered in stains. I bent over the trashcan and spilled my guts. Peter bent down, holding my hair back.
     "Let's get you to the bathroom." I nodded, silently. I limped to the bathrooms, crouching over the toilet. I curled up in a little ball on the floor, laying on towels as Peter sat beside me, rubbing my back. "It'll be okay."
      "I feel like I'm dying..." This was worse than any other time I had gotten drunk. The time passed and soon Peter had to go to class. "Go..." I mumbled.
      "I can stay, if you need me."
      "No, no go..." I mumbled.
      "Are you sure?"
     "Yes. Yeah.  I'll bebetter...I've taken some meds. I'm fine. I feel it passing.”
     “Do you need to go to the hospital?”
     “Nope. I'm fine.” I sat up. “Really. Go.”
     “Gabrielle. I shouldn't. You need to rest.”
     “I'm fine. Go. You want to help me, go to class. Get your degree than we can go home.”
    “We could go now.” I sighed.


----


     “He's persist, isn’t he?”
     “Yeah...he...care so much...you know." I chuckled. " I ended up going to class. In yesterday's clothes, smelling horrible probably."
      "Really?" She shook her head. "That's probably the first time you intentionally went to class when you could have skipped."
       "Peter wanted me to do the best thing for my future...he's supportive as hell."
       "Didn't know hell had a support group."
       "Mère." Mother. "Vous avez réellement fait une blague." You actually made ​​a joke. "Je t'aime." I love you.

----

       Peter. I loved him. He'd asked me to come to uni with him and dammit I would; I'm going to class, hell or hungover. I didn't know what this would spiral into, though. I was clueless. And I despise and love it all at once.

3.3 Part Two: Talking Stars

   "G, we just need to finish your make up, then we're ready."

   "Okay." I nodded, glancing at the mirror. The girl in the mirror stared back at me, smiling, raising an eyebrow. I was going on the semi-popular talk show STARLIGHT with Jesse DiLonni. "I'm just so happy, you know?" I asked the stylist. "Can you believe-"

   "On in five. We're ready for G." The production manager called out. 

   "Of course!" I called out, standing up. I stole a glance at him, he was extremely handsome.

   "Stand right here." He directed me towards a spot on the set. "When Jess," Jess? Was he dating her? Was it some coworkers with benefits deal? The first man since...I mentally took a deep breath, Jason. I could say-think his name without crying. That was a step, right?"When she introduces you, walk out."
     "Gotcha." I moved to wear he pointed towards.

     "Places!" He shouted. "Ready in Five, four, three, two..."

     "Hey, guys! I'm Jessa DiLonni and this is Starlight, where we know stars. Today we have a fab guest, - French beauty who released not one, but two singles at the diner a few days ago that you can buy today! Give it up for Madame G!" Someone hit the applause button as the prerecorded claps sounded.

 Click HERE for EXCLUSIVE pictures from Madame G's concert where she released her singles, Circles & Dimes and Glass Hearts.

     "Hey, J!" I smile and waved at the camera, then took my seat.

      "G," She glanced at the telepromtor, " You're skyrocketing into fame. D-list celeb, two stars, that's new! You're the local fav; how do you feel?"

      "I feel great. It's defiantly a change, being stopped in the street and people asking for my autograph and the paparazzi chasing me. Overall, um," I tried thinking of something more to say; I refused to have my interview scripted. "Overall, I'm so thankful that my fans and everyone is so supportive."

   "Your single, Addict has become number three on the USA charts, and your newly released singles Glass Hearts and Circles & Dimes are rising, but you've yet to sell out of the country- can you explain?"

     "I'm trying to get use to my fame here." I laughed. "In all honesty, I haven't thought much of going world wide. I'm releasing an EP-"

    "Extended play?"

    "Yeah." I nodded. "In about a month. There will be all three singles and four more brand new songs available only on the EP."

    "Will it be sold in other countries?"

    "Yes. We're testing the markets in Ireland, France, Switzerland, South Korea, Brazil, Japan, South Africa, and Canada."

    "You're half French and have a controversial image, with your sexy, mysterious appearance, and a wardrobe of corsets, lace, fishnet tights, skulls, all ranging in black and purple. How is your family reacting?"

    "My family? We're....not exactly communicating right now..."

    "I take it they didn't respond well to your image."

   "Not exactly." I glanced uneasily at the camera.

   "Ohhh." Jesse gasped, sensing that we should move on. "Let's talk about something everyone's starving to know- boys. You have no problem baring an abundance of cleavage and often push boundaries with your shrinking hemline, it would suprise me if you didn't have a number of male suitors." She raised an eyebrow.
    "Actually, I'm single." I laughed. "But, I have my eye on someone."
    "With your staus, I'm sure it would be impossible for them to say no!"
    "I'm no so sure."
    "Come on.  Now, can you tell us about past relationships?"
    "I've had," I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, "One. As a teenager."
    "I'm sure he wished it hadn't ended!"
   "He died." I blurted out, before I could stop myself. "I mean, of embarrassment. Yeah. Next question?"
   "We have a few questions from the fans, I think now would be a perfect time to ask them."
   "Great."
   "Question one, from iLUVwafflez62: U R only 18 (Gurl, same az mee!) and R soo famous!? Whaz with dat?"
   "Um, is that a question? I just really feel so lucky that everyone has loved my music, as I've said. Do they want to know how I'm famous? Practice and patience and begging for a contract usually does the trick."

    "Question two, from mybigfu- oh. That's...descriptive. Way, too descriptive. Question two: Have you ever gotin so drunk you did it in the-nope not saying that word."
    "I'm....not going to answer that."
    "I wouldn't either. Question three, from CalliGalXOXO: What's your favorite alcoholic drink?"
    "Alcoholic drink...techniclly I'm under aged, kids at home, don't drink until you're twenty-one, I'm kind of a hypocrite, I suppose, but I love sugar water; super sweet wines. When it comes to like getting hammered at a dance club or the pub I like the fruity little drinks."
    "So do I! I can't handle whiskey or scotch. Question four, from BBallKING: What do u like in a guy, cuz I single."
    "What do I like in a guy? One, he isn't an internet creep, two he's sweet and funny and I'm not sure. I don't really have a type. I'd have to meet you. I guess having a hot butt probably gives you points." I giggled. "I probably did a shot before I got here."
    "This just in: Madame G, drunk on sugar water wine, likes guys with great butts."
    "I'm not drunk.
Seriously, sweet, funny, not stupid, and you'll do fine. Gender roles are kind of old fashioned I guess, I ask you out, you ask, me I don't care."
    "Thank you darling, we'll be right back with the famous nip slip!"
    "And we're on break!" The man yelled.
    "MAKEUP!" Jesse screamed, as the makeup girl quickly rushed over to her.
    "Hey." I smiled.
    "Hey, I'm Daniel."
    "I'm-"
    "Madame G. I know." He smiled.
    "Yeah. I'm getting use to people knowing who I am." I laughed.
    "What does the G stand for? I've always wondered."
    "Gabrielle."
    "Can I call you Gabby?"
    "Sure. Hey, do you want to go for a drink? I know this great bar, Plasma 501."
    "Pick you up at eleven?"
    "Sounds good." I pecked him on the cheek, then sauntered away. Eleven. Eleven. My heart beat quickly. I was so excited to finally....a man. Moving on, slowly and surely.
     I rushed home on my motorcycle.I hadn't been a date since...forever, really. Jason and I didn't date; we met, we fell in love, and we both worked our butts off to try and pay the bills. Any free time was spent cleaning or doing what horny teens did.
     I skimmed my closet, looking for something appropriate. Mys eyes caught on a sheer, lacy corset. Black lace and gorgeous it was defiantly something people normally reserved for the bedroom. I tried it on, pulling it tight enough so it pushed me up, thank goodness I was already naturally huge with a double D, but not so tight that I couldn't breath. I glanced at myself in the mirror. The lace  wasn't covering anything; I was showing my entire chest off.

      I drove to the club, nervously. My outfit defiantly was having me round the bases, but an actually relationship? I was clueless. I parked; something nearly impossible to do in a city as large as Bridgeport and stepped into the building, making a beeline for the elevator.
   "Daniel..." I smiled, looking at him throwing darts. They all landed perfectly in the center.
   "Gabby. Can I buy you a drink?" I nodded. He took my hand, while making no effort to hide the fact that he was staring at my chest.
   "My eyes are up here."
   "Sorry...it's just..."
   "Don't wear a mini skirt and lace corset unless you reek of desperation."
   "You aren't desperate."
   "I'm trying way to hard to impress you though, right?"
   "I like it." He shrugged. "Scotch." He turned towards the bartender. "And a fruity cocktail for her." He gestured at me.
    "How do you know I like-"
    "Talk show."
    "Oh, yeah." I blushed. This couldn't have been going well. The night progressed and we chatted, while doing shots, until it was closing time. "Come on," I giggled, stumbling to the elevator.

    "Baby, what the hell are you doing? I want to," He slurred. He was the mean drunk and I was the giggly clueless. He pushed me into the elevator, or I fell, not completely sure of what I was doing. He pressed me against the wall, and began kissing me. His kisses where rough and sweet; he wasn't mess around. I lifted my leg, wrapping it around him, using the other to hit the button so the elevator stopped moving. "Come on." He tried to lift up my skirt.
   "What..."
   "Please, baby. You're taunting me with that damn outfit, bitch." He slapped my butt and began moving faster.
   "Okay." I panicked, quickly agreeing and giving him complete control. "We gonna have sex."  He was rough; we where rolling around, unaware of what was going on. I felt my shoulder hit some buttons; with a lurch, we where moving. "Quick." I was laying on the floor, trying to adjust my outfit. The doors opened and Daniel helped me up. I was bruised, but I didn't mind. I hadn't known what happened.

   I stumbled out to the parking lot, pulling Daniel onto my motorcycle. He drove while I slurred out directions to my home. I unlocked the door, dragging him to the basement.
   "You have a BAR in your basement?"
   "Yeah." I giggled. "Me gonna make you rinks." I pointed at him. "I hope daddy likes it."
   "Never say that again."
   "I'm never saying that again." We both said at the same time. The daddy thing was way, way creepy.
   "What can you make?"
   "Hehehe...drinks. I dunno. It can't be too hard."

   I rummaged around, looking for something. I had never mixed drinks before and doing it while drunk wasn't any easier.
   "I keep spilling!" I stuck out my bottom lip, pouting. Vodka was puddled around my feet.
   "Just," Daniel began directing me. "Now shake it up and pour."
   "I cannn do thaaaat."

   "Cheers." Daniel smiled, as I clinked glasses with him. I  poured the drink down my throat, most of it sloshing onto me, instead of going into my mouth.

   "You handsome." I sipped my drink, leaning forwards across the bar. I ended up falling, the bottles pressed against me, hurting. "Ow, ow!" I screamed, as Daniel picked me up and sat me in a chair. "Kiss me." I screamed. "Kiss me. Our hearts are made of glass and I don't know, no I don't know, if they will last until tomorrow. They're shattering, they're shattering. Take a leap and kiss me." I sang a line from my song, Glass Hearts.

   "What are you doing?" I screamed, when Daniel leaned forwards and planted one on me.
   "You said kiss you, so I did."
   "I was singing."
   "Oh. Well, you taste goooood."
   "You do, too. Let's go do it...it was fuunnnn. There's a couch over there." I pointed at one of the three couches; my vision was blurry, I was seeing triple.

   He began kissing me, quickly pulling my corset tighter, tighter, tighter. It was as tight as it could be. I could barely breath with my chest pushed up further then I thought was humanly possible. I kissed him, pulling his shirt off, feeling his muscles. I kissed him and kissed him, until I couldn't remember what happened next.

----

   "Gabrielle! He raped you!"

   "Mom. He didn't. We where bot drunk and I wanted him, so bad. You should have seen him! He was all muscle and his- it, his, was huge. And sex...that man...oh..." I stopped and glanced at my mother, who was incredibly uncomfortable.

    "Was that when-?"

    "No. Don't worry, you'll find out when."

    "Mama!" The tiny voice shouted.

    "Mother. Should I-?"

    "Don't worry, Antoinette will put him to bed."

    "But shouldn't I? I haven't' seen you all in so long, the least I could do is take care of-"

    "Just continue the story."

----
  

   I woke up, confused. I was laying in bed, being squeezed to death. I glanced down. I was in zebra panties and my corset that was trying to kill me. I got out of bed and loosened it, revealing purple bruises. The television was on.

    "Next, we have Kay with exclusive celeb news! Madame G and her one night hookup!"
    "WHAT!?" I screamed. Daniel...I had asked him out and....I couldn't remember... I ran out of my room, down the stairs. "Hello?" I yelled, trying to figure out if someone was in my house.
    "Hey." Daniel smiled at me.
    "What?" I turned towards him. He was sitting on my couch, in my living room, reading my paper. "Are you naked!?"

    "Of course not. My clothing is in the washing machine. So...." He shrugged, lifting up the paper. He was wearing white briefs. "You're on the cover."
    "Give me that!" I ran forwards, tripping over the coffee table.
    "Gabby!" He shouted, helping me up.
    "Thanks." I grabbed the paper. A picture of me with Daniel in the elevator going at it was underneath the headline 'MADAME G: SECRET LOVER OR ONE NIGHT STAND?' "Are we dating? Did we hookup?"
    "Turn the page." Pictures of myself, without clothing or dignity.

   "We did, didn't we? Are we dating? Because one night stands.....no."
   "Do you want to date?"
   "I don't know anything about you."
   "I'm a police officer who makes extra money by working at Jesse DiLonni's no budget, trashy internet talk show that has approximently negative seven- wait, eight viewers. I-"
    "Go on."
    "Should we be completely honest?" I nodded. "I'm thirty five."
    "So, seventeen years older than me. That isn't a big deal."
    "Five years ago...I lost my job...I was broke, living in a crappy apartment. My girlfriend tried helping me out, but...I turned to alcohol. I was an alcoholic. I hit her...she...I'm horrible. She dumped me and turned me into the police. I was scared; I wasn't a woman beater. I was assigned to an AA group. I went to Alcoholics Anonymous for four years...until I was deemed well. About a year ago, a police officer, the one who arrested me...I called him. There was a man, mugging an old lady. I called and he came and...he offered me an interview. I was physically fit and...I've been sober for so long...I haven't touched a drop since the police came, five years ago."
    "No..I liquored up a former....I'm horrible."
    "I shouldn't have. It was my fault. I...thought I could handle it. My temper...when I drink....I should go..."
    "No. I understand." I took a breath. "My high school sweet heart was shot. I don't know who did it, but it kills me. Every single day, whenever I sing, I look out into the crowd and wonder who did it. Are they standing there, with a gun, waiting for me? Am I next." I-I..." I broke down, into tears. "I loved him...my family thought I was going to fast and that I would ruin my life, so I gave them the finger and ran away. They moved to England with my sister, she's going to boarding school. She's sixteen, now. I miss them. I went to therapy and just go out. I have a high school diploma and no college. I'm broken."
    "You aren't."
    "I'm going to go clean up."
    "I'll get dressed."
    I went to the bathroom, wiping away my tears. I got dressed quickly and cleaned off my smudged makeup and covered up my dark circles.
    "Gabby?" I heard Daniel knock.
    "Come in."

    "Will you be my girlfriend?"
    "Yes!" I gasped. "Yes, I will. Ow."
    "What?"
     "Nothing, my back hurts."
     "I can massage it for you."
     "Really? That would be great." I smiled. "Ohhh. Ohhh, yeah. Yes, that way. Yes...harder...oh, yes!" I moaned. "That felt so good." I said, when he stopped. "Daniel." I smiled at him, seductively. "Want to try and make me moan like that again?"
     "Huh?"
     "In the bedroom, you know I'm. Never mind. Do you want to...it?"
     "What do you think?" He asked, picking me up, whisking me off to paradise.

   We began secretly dating, trying to keep our relationship out of the limelight. After we had dated for awhile, I invited him to move in with me and he gladly accepted. Occasionally, his temper would flare up and I'd end up with bruises, but it wasn't anything makeup couldn't cover. He was so sweet and doting, I couldn't help but fly to him like bees to honey. I knew I needed to leave if anything got too bad; my mother told me the story of my Grandma Alyce and Johnny, my grandfather, even though I never met him and my Grandma left him when my mom was little.
   It wasn't long before I was in complete bliss with Daniel; my celebrity status wasn't rising, nor was status as a singer, with my first EP release settling down, I needed new material I was distracted by my happiness with Daniel, though. The children's show, Sundae Ponies, offered me a fabulous deal if I'd write their theme song.

Ice Cream by Madame G

With you, oh, oh, oh my life is so sweet.

We're cherries on a sundae

And I can't help but sing

Cause we're ice cream and rootbeer
Peanut butter and jelly

Friendship and love forever

Because we're Sundae Ponies

Running through the fields

Happiness isn't limited

Together forever

Oh-oh-oh 

Sundae Ponies

Life is an ice cream cone

Sticky sweet

Dreams of strawberries and chocolate delights

Vanilla cream and choclatey chip-ity cookie dreams

La di da di da la oh la la la

Ooh yeah, yeah, yeah di yeah

Baby me and you together

Yeah, di da, yeah

Loving you isn't limited cause it's all limitless

Love oh di da yeah 

3.7: Testing Love

   "Hey, Peter." I walked inside. He was nervously sitting at the kitchen table.
   "Hello..."
   "What's up? Are you okay?!" I rushed to him. Let him be okay. Please. I need him.
   "I'm fine, it's just..." He took a breath. It was the beginning of September. The cool, fresh air filled the room, filtering through the open windows. As I breathed it in, my lungs felt like a knife was slicing through them. "Gabrielle, I have to go back to college."
   "Huh?" I was confused. I was expecting a break up; or worse. Not this. "That's great?"
   "Yeah." He nodded. "It is...I only have a bachelors. I need a masters...I'm one of the only teachers without one and I need the advantage. I earned partial credit; it would only take me one year of school."
    "That's...great." I repeated. I was confused. This was a big deal; at least to him. But college wasn't, was it? I mean, I hadn't been. No one expected me to. No one really expected anything from me. My high school guidance counselor barely said a word to be and thought maybe I should just try and not be pregnant and maybe work as a waitress for the rest of my life or be a stay at home mom once I graduated.
    "I want you to come with."
    "What?" College. I wasn't college person. Me dumb. Me no Uni. My mind transferred back to child talk.  "Small." I pointed at my brain. Peter chuckled.
     "You could earn a Fine Arts degree, for your performance career. It might help you get gigs and seem a little more professional."
     "Ah...kay. Okay." I had no idea what else I could say. No? Be alone, again. For a year? No thanks, I'll at least flunk my way through an Arts degree; ever idiot could get one, right? I mean, I have enough cash to buy one, I just have to show up to the classes.
     "Will you take the aptitude test?"
     "Sure."

     He handed me a thick booklet. There was a test for each subject for each degree, as well as the base subjects, math and English. I was positive I failed every other section, except for the one I loved. I handed him my test, nervously, as he scored it.
    "You earned credit towards a Fine Arts degree!" He exclaimed, smiling.
    "Yay! Can I see my scores?"
    "Umm...sure."

Business- 0 credit

Communication- 0 credit (Includes English)

Fine Arts- 6 credit (322 of 400)

Physical Education- 0 credit

Science and Medicine- 0 credit (Includes Math)

Technology- 0 credit

    I felt incredibly stupid. I'd barely gotten the Art credit and I didn't earn one for anything else. Not only that, I scored an apprentice credit. They practically hand those out. I leaned forwards and kissed Peter.
    "Bedroom..." I mumbled, pulling him forwards.
    "Bedroom?" He stopped for a minute, then smiled.

    We began making out, as I slowly took off his coat and his took off my sweater.
     "I love you." Peter whispered.
     "I love you, too." I whispered, currently pinned against the mirror, wishing he would be quiet. I loved the man, but I was trying to...
     "Are we really-?"
     "Uh, huh." I nodded. "I think so. I'm ready."
     "I am, too."
     "Should we-?"
     "Bed."

     I nervously relaxed. This would be the first time with him. Peter. For me it had been two months, for him probably longer. Not since....Daniel...before him, Jason. I hadn't exactly waited long between the two. Dammit. I loved Peter. P-e-t-e-r. He's who mattered today; tonight. He been gave talking, kissing me, whispering things. He was sexy. Defiantly sexy.

    "Oh mi gawsh...." I moaned. Peter. Damn. The man knew exactly what he was doing.

    He laid me on my back as his lips where planted upon mine. I-

----

    "Gabrielle. Please. I am you mother."
    "You wanted the details."
    "I don't need all of them. I understand you had sex."
    "Way to take the romance out of it. Seriously, I was just getting to the steamy parts. Like when Peter-"
     "I don't need the details. If the whole point of this was to have me know your defiantly not a virgin, Message received. Loud and clear."
     "Fine." I grumbled. "But just to let you know, Peter was the best."
     "Why are you telling me this?!?!"
     "Uh...you asked how. I told you. Besides, it makes for a better story."
     "NO. I understand."
     "Okay, okay."
     "What happened next?"
     "Well, Peter and I, you know. Then, I showered and he, you know with me, and then we went to bed and in the morning he made French toast and we on the counter."
     "Did I not say skip the sex scenes?"
     "He's very, very- I mean two young, fit people and damn he is so-"
     "After you two made like bunnies, what happened?"
     "Well, I did a GLITZ magazine photo shoot and Peter thought for another week, then we packed and left for Uni."
      "Whahh!"  I heard the cries come from the other room.
      "Should I-" I asked.
      "Probably. I'll make us sandwiches, then we continue the story?"
      "Sounds good to me. I'll go help Antoinette."
      I stood up and stretched, looking around the home. It was almost impossible to believe. All of them, here. With me. "Wow..." I whispered.  So much had happened. So many memories. From Jason to Daniel to Peter and...wow. I smiled and headed towards the cries, ready to help Antoinette. The years gone by, were merely memories. I hadn't forgotten a moment.

 ----

NOTE: Hi! Blogger inserted this weird space-graph thing when I put one of the pictures into the story. Anyways, there's this weird gap/space/Microsoft Excel boxes, but the chapter is still over. Thanks for reading! Chapter 3.8 is coming soon (so far I've done 3 chapters from the 20-23. I'm not sure if I'll publish another one around Wednesday or wait closer to Saturday/Sunday/Monday.).

3.6: Together

    We had been living together for a month, when Peter finally suggested that we do something.
    "Like what?" I asked, curious. He didn't' seem like a bar or club person.
    "I'm not sure." He shrugged. "It's only four; most of the clubs aren't open yet, and even then..."
    "We could see a movie. Or the spa. Or the...gym."
    "Gym?" He laughed. "Why not?"
    "Really?" I giggled. "The gym?"
    "Have you ever been? There's a pool  and the view is amazing while you exercise."
    "Sounds great. Lemme get ready." I slid to the bathroom and changed into my gym shorts, tank top, and old Letterman jacket that was Peter's in college. He'd been on the varsity baseball team during his freshman year.
    I drove his Prius to the gym; he'd finally trusted me enough to not wreck his Earth saving mobile.

    "So...teaching kids. That has to be interesting." I tried making small talk in the elevator.
    "Yeah. It's defiantly a...."
    "Fudged up?"
    "Unique experience." I blushed. Peter tended not to cuss at all; he couldn't, being around children all day. I, on the other hand, wasn't so careful with what I said.

     "Sorry."

     "Sorry?"

     "I kinda cuss....a lot. More than you do."

     "You don't have to feel bad."

     "Oh...sorry. I mean. Never mind. Just, look treadmills. Wanna go run?" I blushed some more. I didn't know why I felt like I needed to impress him. I...damn. I mean darn. Hellllll-eck. Heck. "Wow..." I gasped. We'd climbed onto the treadmills. The view was amazing. I felt thousands of stories up; everyone else was a tiny ant. "This is amazing."

      "Yeah...it's  peaceful. The hustle and bustle of the city; you can see the pulse of life. The sounds of machines starting and the salty chlorine filling the air. The gym really is the best." 

       "I can't beleive I've never gone before."

       "You haven't?" 

       "No....I'm usally....busier." If busy meant dancing in music videos, drinking, and making out, then I was incredibly busy.

        "I come here on the weekends, after grading papers and making lesson plans."

        "It's nice. So, how's teaching?" I stumbled back to the elevator question. I was horrible at small talk.

        "I teach language arts and social studies. There's six teachers; three LA and SS teachers and three math and science teachers. For the first half of the day, my home room is taught by me and the second half they go to Mrs. Clark's and I get her home room."

        "Cool. Do you teach at Bridgeport Elementry School?"

        "Yep."

        "That's cool. I went there for third grade. Is Smith, Green, Parks, and Hendricks all still there?"

        "Yep. Smith and Hendricks are still LA and SS, Parks and Green are math and science."

        "I always hates Parks. It was like we had a thousand math problems everyday. And science? Seriously, it was videos from, like, a couple decades ago. Everything thought was out of date."

         "It's changed. They're cutting teachers, even though Parks has tenure, they could move her into PE or something and make her hate the job so much she quits."

         "Wow...they don't do that do you, do they?"

         "I'm a second year teacher; I don't have tenure, they could fire me whenever they want."

         "What?! That's terrible. I mean, you're a great teacher....I'd assume."

         "It's the law." He shrugged. I stared out the window. I was self employed, making money by singing songs....Peter was educated and could lose his job at any minute. I stepped on my foot and fell forwards.

          "Ow!" I screamed. A steering pain crept through my left leg.

          "Are you okay?!" Peter stopped his treadmill and rushed over to mine. 

          "My leg!" He helped me to a couch. He took my jacket off and made a little pillow for my head.

          "Are you okay? Where does it hurt?"

         "My leg...it hurts....it feels cramped...."

         "Does this," he rubbed my leg,"hurt more or less."

         "Less. Defiantly less."

         "Muscle cramps. You need to-"

         "Go to the spa."

         "What? No-"

         "Please? Pretty, pretty please? I'll feel better."

         "Fine." He sighed. 

         "Can you help me up?" He took a hold of my arm and helped me stand up. I limped to the elevator as he drove me to the spa. 

 

         "That really does feel good." Peter said, after we'd paid and received our massages and I had a mani pedi.

         "I know, right? I love this place."

         " We should go home know."

         "But I know a great bar."

         "You need to rest."

         "I'm good. Great. Better than good. Fabulous. I paid like seven thousand bucks for a massage. I am defiantly feeling better."

         "Gabrielle." 

         "Peter." He gave me a firm look. 

         "You are not drinking tonight. We should be at a hospital, making sure you aren't worse."

         "But wine, scotch, and vodka. Cocktails and rum and Bloody Mary and Piña-"

         "Is not what you'll be drinking tonight."

         "You care more about my health than I do!" Peter was so caring and adorable...and we'd probably sleep together if I did a couple shots. Damn. We can't- it would ruin our relationship. No shots. "On second though, no bar. But no hospital, either. I'm fine."

         "Are you sure?"

         "Yeah, let's just go home." We drove in silence, to his house. 

   

        "You should sleep in the bed." Peter suggested, once we'd changed into our PJs.

         "It's your night."

         "You're hurt, though."

         "Look, Peter. I know you care and I care about you, but I am fine." We only had one bed, so every other night we traded off. I slept on the couch, he slept in the bed. Couch, bed, couch, bed. I laid down on the couch and closed my eyes. "I'm going to sleep." He turned off the lights and sighed.

-Peter's POV- 

         She's amazing. She's creative and kind and funny. I stared out the windows, sighing. She had no idea how hard I was falling for. She had no idea how her laugh was a thousand bells that made me smile. Her voice was beautiful. She didn't know that when I was in class, teaching figurative language to eight and nine year olds and I said that she was as beautiful as a sunset was an example of a simile, I was talking about her.
        I walked into the bedroom and climbed underneath the covers. The bed was cold and empty. I stared at the clock, as the time ticked by. I felt my eyelids being weighed down as sleep lulled me in. My alarm clock went off, bright and early. Five thirty am. I had to be at school in two hours. I stood up and wandered to the kitchen.
       "He save me..." She murmured. "He nice..." She was sleep talking.
     

I felt a guilty pang as I hoped she meant me. It was ridiculous of me, really. She was famous. Yet all of all the people it was me sitting in the storage room hiding from my coworkers. Of anything I could be doing, I was there. I could have said no or gone to the library or bookstore or had a late meeting and decided that I would just go home after it. But I didn't. I felt horrible; her ex-boyfriend was insane, or at least they where trying to plead that in court; he still received a life sentence. He was locked up and I doubted they had kept the key.
I moved over to the stove and began preparing breakfast. It was early and I was hungry. My mind wasn't thinking straight as I put the meal into the oven.
“Peter?” She sleepily sat up and rubbed her eyes. “What time is it?”
“Sorry.” I glanced at the clock. Five-fifty. “I didn't mean to wake you up...”
“It's fine.” She smiled at me through the window. “You're,” She paused. “You're muscle-y. I didn't realize it at the gym...you should go topless more often.” She giggled.
“I thought it would make you uncomfortable...”
“Oh, defiantly no!” She looked around for a bit and stretched. “What's burning?”
“Huh?” I stopped staring at her.
“The smell. Somethings burning.” She gave me a little half smile and rolled her eyes.
“Oh, uh, the breakfast. I made...you put it in your body and it nourishes you.” I couldn’t think of the word.
“Food?”
“Yeah. That.” I blushed. “Would you like some?”
“Shouldn't you take it out of the oven first?”
“Oh. Yeah. Probably.” I opened the oven and reached. “Oh ssss-! Hot.”
“It is an oven.”
“Should have worn oven mitts.”
“Don't look at me, you're the one with the college degree.”
“Yes. Degree. I have that.”
“The food is still in the oven.”
“Yep.” I nodded. We stood for a minute glancing at each other.
“Planning on taking it out?”
“Uh huh.”
“When?”
“Soon....now.” I grabbed a mitt and took the pan out of the oven. I'm fairly certain firetrucks where pink in comparison to me. We ate quietly, occasionally mentioning the weather or last night. “I have to leave in ten minutes.” I glanced at my watch.

“Wait.”
“What?”
“We've been living together for one month.” I nodded. “And we haven't slept together yet.” Yet? That sounded promising.
“Yeah...Gabrielle, I like you.”
“Thank the fudging gummy bears! I've liked you a really, really one month time.”
“So have I!” I exclaimed. “You don't think a relationship would ruin...this?”
“This? What the hell is this?” She laughed. “Why would it? Seriously, we have enough sexual tension that we could probably beat the amount that Brennan and Booth had for the first six and a half seasons of BONES.”
“Will you go out with me?”
“Any girl who gets asked that by you, and you could probably ask any girl, who said no is insane. Or stupid. Am I like pretending that I'm neither.”
“You aren't.”
“Thanks. Keep thinking that. That's a yes, by the way.”
“You're very straight forward.”
“I'm tired of this flirty yes-no-maybe crap. I like you, you like me. Generally two people who like each other date. Unless they're in middle school, then the girl pretends that she doesn't and he's usually really popular and she so isn't. It leads to this awkward he's-”
“You had a really interesting time in middle school.”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “So, we're dating?”
“Guess so.”
“Peter Terrey. Gabrielle Janes...this sounds so official!” She squeled. “Hey, don't you have to go to work?”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“You could play hooky...”
“I couldn't. I'm one of the newest teachers....”
“That bites. Later? Well, we live with each other. We'll see each other if we do or don't.”
“Bye.” I said, happily.
“Bye.” She sang song. “Oh!” Her phone beeped. “I got a gig. Have ta go.”


I sat at my desk while everyone worked, excited.
“Mr. Terrey? Mr. Terrey?”
“Yes, Mikey?” I looked up.
“Sarah poked me!”
“He pulled my hair! He started it.” She shot back.
“She won't share the crayons so I can color my poem!”
“Mr. Terrey!” I sighed. Third graders, right?


-Gabrielle's POV-

----

“Funny story, mom.”

“Funnier then this?” She dryly said.

“You know Mikey and Sarah? They're in middle school, dating now. Then where at Bridgeport Elementary School volunteering to help out with the school festival and saw Peter. It's funny. You pull her hair in elementary school and she pokes you...then bam. You realize you liked him.”

“Isn't that how it always is?”

“Until you realize that at some point, it isn't true.”

“It's always true. He's just too dumb to realize it.”

----

“Welcome home, Peter.” I said. I was still dressed in my costume from my performance.

“Hey, I'm going to make dinner.”

“Sounds great. I'm going to change.”

After dinner, we danced. I laughed and he smiled. We found ourselves slowing down, the music lulling us into a kiss. That night, we slept side by side. Our breaths in time, peaceful. Our eyes drifted closed, as our hearts stayed steady. Because we where together and nothing could beat us.

3.5: Plotting, Clubbing, and Moving

Hey guys (and girls). I would like to give you a gigantic thank you for the 5,000  views. I never imagined by blog would become this popular!

-Thanks- *Hands out cake that has 5,000 Views spelled out across it in chocolate chips*

----

   "Mom? Mom, are you okay?"

   "They're plotting your MURDER. Of course I'm not!"

   "I hate to say the obvious, but I'm here today."

   "So you're okay?"

   "Yeah....or, at least I'm not dead yet."

   "Yet?"

   "Everyone dies. Every breath we take leads us closer to end, we just don't think about it. Every second I live is a second closer to my death."

    "Are you alright? Do you need a therapist?"

    "I'm quoting a line from my song Fire. You know, I'm on fire, barely breathing. Every second I have is  a second closer to the end."

     "Never heard of it."

     "I sung it in that movie. And at the Golden Mic Awards. I then won a Golden Mic for it. Really, you've never heard it? I had orange hair on the album cover."

      "Honey, I haven't sen you since you where a purple haired teenager. Give me a break."

      "Okay..." I sighed. "Seriously, though. I'm showing you the YouTube video. It's fu-" She glanced at me. "Awesome. Fun and awesome. Exactly what I was going to say. Not a bad word."

      "Good girl."

      "Am I a dog? Sorry. Let's just-how about I continue the story?"

      "Oui. Please."

   

----

   Daniel stood silently, in the Janes family cemetery. He looked at the ground, covered in ash and fallen and leaves. Harry and Alyce Laurel's graves where here. Her mother's, Tiffani's was not. She was still breathing; living. Gabrielle would soon join her grandmother, he though. Oh if it weren't for grandmother Dia-W might not seek revenge. She probably wouldn't still be alive, switching from vampire to wolf and back again over the decades. Her finally form; her werewolf prison, would be her last. If only life was so simple that she could simply be happy with life, but no. Life was a bitch and she needed justice, just like any lost soul. 

   Rain fell, as Daniel stared at the graves, tears poetically welling up in his eyes. He would not see Gabrielle's. He would be long gone. Not the one to slip her the spills, but the one to let her have them be given to her. He was not the murder, but what was the difference? He might as well of took a bullet to her, for he would be the one in chains if the plan fell through and he was caught. W covered her tracks and with death on her side Daniel was the only evidence. He would be locked up without the key helping him escape or an innocent mind to prey on, begging for release. His lost mind; his lost love Gabby was a scheme that needed to be executed. She was something  he was planning on pinning down from the start; his love for her was only incidental. Only an accident. Just like her death would be.

   "Hello?" He picked up his phone, halting the aggravating rings. "Ah, sweetheart." He smiled at the sound of her voice.

    "Daniel." She giggled, a thousand tiny bells ringing. "Let's meet, at the club. I have to preform, after all. Must not be late." 

     "Of course, Gabby. I'll be there in five." The hollowness hung in his voice, mocking him. You're life is dedicated to this? It asked. Shut up! He screamed. He was losing love; he did not need himself to suddenly check his own morals, for he had none. 

      

   Five minutes later, he was at the club. She was already done performing, slightly angry at him, a larger part of her scared of him. 

   "Let's play pool." She suggested. "There's a table upstairs."

   "We could do shots." She raised an eyebrow, clearly remembering the last time she'd agreed and the bruises that had appeared the next morning.

    "We could play pool."

    "Alright." He sighed. She was stubborn, besides at only midnight, the night was still young.

    "Yay!" She cheered, tugging him up the steps
. They began playing, ten minutes passing, then thirty, then an hour and more. The game continued perilously long, for Gabrielle was not a good player, taking long breaks to try and think of what to do, wasting time. 

    There she was. W. Standing there, sending h
and signals to Daniel. She was ready for Gabrielle to have her time cut short and waiting was not on the agenda. For the moon was falling from the sky and with the morning sun showing in five hours, it would be best to have Gabby gone by then.

    "Good job, Gabs."

    "But, the game isn't over."

    "I give in. You win."

    "Daniel." She laughed. "We have all night." She glanced at the clock. "Or morning, I suppose. It is nearing two a.m."

     "Here," Daniel led her over to the seating, a paparazzi near. Her murder suicide would be reasoned to be caused by her feeling so depressed about the break up that she just off herself. Drunk would be better, but they could stage that later. The dawn was breaking and the articles needed to be printed soon. "Gabrielle, this isn't working."

    "What?"

    "Our relationship. I can't stand you, with fame and money, prancing around in skimpy outfits. We need to have space. We should....we should stop dating."

     "What? What the hell?"

-Gabrielle's POV-

   "What the hell? Are you trying to sound sophisticated or some jack sugar? Because you sound snobby as hell. Seriously. No one talks like that. Are we in some old story with dialect from a century ago?"

    "You're a fudging bitch. Is that better?" He pushed me into the wall. I felt my body being thrown to the floor, him hitting me. I tried standing up, tackling him, but he kept pushing me down. I was laying on the cold ground, being beaten. Finally, he stopped, much to the bystanders approval. I leaned forwards and slapped him. "I will kill you!" He screamed, pulling a knife out of his pocket. Someone was dialing the police. 

    "Daniel?" I screamed. I turn and ran, down the stairs. There was a door at the bottom, near the restroom does. I quickly pushed it open, running inside.

     "Hello?" A guy, who was incredibly handsome...his eyes captivated me...asked.

     "Hi." I collapsed onto the couch.

    "What are you?" 

    "I'm hiding. Shhh."

    "I'm Peter. Hiding from my friends who dragged me here for my twenty second birthday."

    "Gabrielle. And yeah. My ex is trying to murder me."

    "What the HELL!" He shouted. "And you're acting perfectly calm?"

    "The police are coming. Besides, it isn't the first time I've gotten a death threat." 

    "Madame G. Gabby." I heard Daniel sing song. "I'm coming. Are you in the bathrooms?" I heard the doors open. 

     "Madame G? You're the singer?" I nodded.

     "Help me." I mouthed. I stood up and Peter stood with me.

     "Over here." He mouthed, pointing to a hallway. 

     "Madame G?" Daniel was in the same room as us, the only thing keeping me safe was the fact that he couldn't see around the corner. 

      "Ohhh. Oh baby." Peter groaned. "Yeah, yeah. Charlotte, yessss." 

      "Sorry, dude." I heard Daniel whisper, sneaking out the door. 

      "Charlotte?" I whispered. "What?!"

      "He went away and sex was the easiest way to get him to leave, without him asking many questions. Sorry."

      "No big deal." I shrugged. "Let's fudging get out of here, okay? Seriously, I've got a lot to live for."

      "Come one." We began running again.

      "Do you know where you're going?"

      "Nope." He flung open a door. "Turn around!" He whispered. I did; moments later we where back in the room with the couch.

      "A door!" I pointed. We scurried to it, quickly. We where outside, a fence surrounding us. "The gate's locked!" 

      "I'll lift you up." He gave me a boost, as I hurriedly went over the gate. Moments later, he was on the other side with me.

      "What are you doing here?" I whispered. "Who are you?"

      "Peter Terrey. Bridgeport Elementary School third grade teacher. Today, well Friday, so yesterday since it's Saturday morning, was my twenty-second birthday, my friends,  well coworkers, decided to take me here. I have a bachelors in elementary education and I specialized in language arts."
      "I'm Gabrielle Janes, I barely have a high school diploma,, and I make a living off singing in skimpy outfits."
      "Madame G?"
      "Yeah..." I sighed. "Did you here that?"
      "What?"
      "Shh...." We stopped talking and listened for a minute. "Someone's coming." I mouthed. I glanced around; I had no where to go.
       "Look." Peter pointed to the dumpsters.
       "Lift me up." I mouthed.
       "Wait, really?" He stopped, surprised. 

       "Yep..." I spoke slowly. He put his hands around my waist and elevated me into the trash. The stench of old gin and older towels used to wipe up whatever humans threw up once they consumed to much gin and bubbly barely considered alcohol cocktails. I moved to the side as Peter tried to lift himself in.

       "Dude...? Did you see this girl? Pink hair? Drank about three bubble gum cocktails. The fence is locked, could you help me out?" Sugar. Daniel. Hell. Times fudging ten. Sugar. Sugar.

        "I'm an employee of the city waste management-"

        "Stop! Poilce!" I heard the cries ring out. The door slammed shut. 

        "Quick!" Peter pulled me out and rushed me to the parking lot.

        "So, which one of these bad boys are yours? P.S. I'm hoping there's some sort of awesome convertible corvette on the other side. Just saying."

         "I drive a Prius. And m
y friends and I took the subway here."

         "A Prius?" I exclaimed. "Like a look at me, saving the damn Earth Prius?"

         "The one and only."

         "I like your style."

         "Thanks." We waited for a few moments, then I asked.
         "Can I drive?"
         "We're taking a taxi. I just called."
         "But I'm a good driver."
         "After you where dropped off at your house, I'd have to switch over to the drivers seat anyways. Besides, your in shock. We need to get you to a docotrs to make sure you're alright-"
         "I'm fine. I've had death threats before. I'm famous."
         "Are you sure?" He asked, nervously.
        "Absolutely. Oui. Look, if something's wrong I'm not going to go insane and sue everyone, okay? Relax."
         "Okay." He took a deep breath and seemed to relax that the mega millionaire wasn't suing the man with the teacher's salary.
          "May I come home with you?"
          "May you-"
          "You're an English teacher. Figured I should use may instead of can." He smiled. "We're not sleeping together. At all. There's so way."
          "Why are you telling me thi-"
          "I have this lets sleep with him habit. Plus, the paps will surround my home! I need someplace to go..."
          "Don't you have someone other than the man you just met?" He paused for a minute. "At a dance club."
          "I trust you."
          "Really?"
          "I'm a very trusting person. One of my flaws. Probably why my ex is being trialed for murder and attempted or accessory to murder."
          "Wait, what?"
          "I'm no going to bring a murder to your home. Please." The cab  pulled up and we both got in.
          "Fine." He sighed.
          "Where to?" The cabbie asked. Peter gave him his address.

          We pulled up and I glanced around. It was rather nice townhouse, surrounded by trees and skyscrapers.  "I've never lived in the city before." I commented. I'd grown up in my grandfather's home, then I lived with Jason...but we weren't living. We where surviving. Then, my gorgeous home...with Daniel. It was so lonely, at times. Even with another pulse, he was still empty; gone. He was a shell of a man that use to exist.
          "Live?"

          "Can I move in? I mean, with this murder thing, I'll cancel my tour...." He unlocked the door and led me up the steps. "I can pay the rent. All of it. Buy groceries and everything.  Remodel whatever you'd like. I have money. Use it."
          "Half the rent and we can figure out a split for food and electricity and cable and water. I won't take advantage of you; what you use for, we can pay for."   
          "Thank you." I said simply. "May I shower?"

          "You may. There's a bathroom down the hall."
          "Thanks. No peeking." I waved a finger at him.
          "I wouldn't..."
          "You won't. What? Are you gay? Or do you have a girlfriend? Damn, do you have a sexy teacher and principal thing?"
         "No, no, and no."
         "Why won't you peek?"
         "I respect your privacy."
         "Huh. Haven't really had that one before."
         "You said you didn't want to sleep together; we're just roommates. Nothing more."
         "Oh..." Damn. Usually the 'I won't sleep with you' act got the guys incredibly horny. "I'll, uh, go shower."
          "It's a tub."
          "I'll go bathe."
         I quickly bathe, then glanced around the bathroom. I hated my hair. Cotton candy plush.  Daniel's choice....I had to change it. Had to change it. I shuffled around underneath the sink and found a box of pitch black beard dye. They make beard dye? It was close enough to my naturally hair color, and my only option. I had to take it.

----

   "Hey, mom."
   "Gabrielle...."
   "Yep. Being lecturing me. Go."
   "No, I just...you moved in....with a stranger. Besides, no decent man has beard dye."
   "I know." I chuckled. "It wasn't his."
   "It wasn't?"
   "Nope."

----

     "Hey." I walked into what I assumed was his bedroom (it was). There was nice office in the corner.
     "Hey." He glanced at me, wrapped up in a towel. It barely covered me up; I had to keep pulling it up and then down. "Oh! You need clothing...and your hair?"
     "Do you use beard dye?"
     "What? No, my roommate did. He moved out and left a bunch of crap. I have some of this clothes still, he was kind of short. You might fit."
      "Great." I followed him to his dresser.
      "I have a jersey from our college; we where roommates, and a pair of jean shorts that look like they'll fit."
       "I"ll take it. Thanks." I took the clothing to the bathroom and tried them on. The jersey shrunk drastically after I slid it over my neck and chest.  The jean shorts had a belt, that I thankfully adjusted around my waist so they wouldn't fall down. "Peter?" I called out, once I exited the bathroom.
      "In the kitchen. I figured you'd be hungry."

      "You're a dream." I smiled. After everything that had happened, he was the best. He was the thing saving me.
      "Do you like macaroni?"
      "I love it."
      "Really?"
      "Thank you. For everything....I know...I'm just glad. That's all. I've had an interesting time, in life...and you're so nice and down to Earth and everything." He gave me a lopsided smile.
      "Gabrielle, I'm just trying to help. Generally, men don't abandon woman who have ax murders after them."
       "I know....and he's in jail now, I mean there will be a trial, but...."
       "Let's sit. The mac and cheese is done."
       "Okay." I followed him to the seating.
       "Gabrielle, what do you think will happen?"
       "With what?"
       "You living here."
       I shrugged. "Maybe  until you get bored living with me. Or you get married. Or move in with like you relationship."
      "I'm straight, okay?"
      "Thank goodness. I mean, I support gay rights. I voted yes when New York passed the marriage law and I think any state that doesn't allow it is an idiot- people deserve happiness, no matter what."
      "I'm glad you feel that way....people don't tend to support it where I'm from."
      "Where's that?"
      "The south."

      "Really?"
      "My mother is...she passed when I was younger...my dad couldn't take her death...."
      "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked."
      "It's fine. I should visit there, sometime....Appaloosa Plains."
      "Sounds wonderful."
      We sat in silence, eating. We had started something, unified in silence. I would be living here; maybe until tomorrow, maybe until yesterday's tomorrow, but I'd be living here. It was home, until I felt safe living in my big empty home again. Until Peter, as handsome as he was, started realizing that he should be dating somebody. Anyone. I wanted it to be me, but it couldn't. It was too soon...too soon....I couldn't wait until the time was perfect.