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*

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   "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.