The Aftermath

Late Night Rendezvous

There I was, on my motorcycle, a black and green one. Y'know, to match my whole vibe? The chicks around were out and about, hangin' around in their tiny tops and puffing out cigarette smoke. Now, as much as I don't want to offend those little dime pieces, they stink like shit. Not even I smoked that much, for my age at least. Gwen was at home, said she wasn't feeling well. The weird thing was that, whenever a girl said that kind of crap to me, it always turned out that she didn't want to see me. I mean, who the hell wouldn't want to see Duncan? Himself? Me? That's crazy shit, bro.

It's just that I really don't feel like myself today. Where's the thrill? The excitement? Someone who I can laugh at or laugh with. It's like nothing makes me happy nowadays, other than Gwen of course. She likes what I like, music, bands, movies, all types of stuff. Wasn't really used to that stuff with her. She'd be forcing me to listen to her classical performances on the piano and violin. Man, I never really understood how people really play instruments like that, or just read music in general. But getting back to what I was saying; me, trying to be the supportive boyfriend I am, or was, had to endure ten fucking minutes of that ear torture every once in a while back then. I did miss the yelling though, it felt funny.

Oh god, fuck no. What am I thinking? I don't want to hear or see any more of that psycho bitch.

I pass by Gwen's house, trying to keep as quiet as I can as I hop off my motorcycle. Her window isn't that hard to climb up to so I had no worries slipping off the brick walls. To be honest, Gwen's mom doesn't have any problem with me coming inside the house anytime, but I prefer to do it this way. It's the way I'm used to. I was used to a certain someone scold me every time I did it and it was one of my favourite hobbies ever since.

Shitshitshit. Don't think about her. Not her.

I could hear some rock music distinctly playing and see a faint ray of light shining through the slightly open window. Gwen giggling while she was what I could assume was typing on her keyboard. A monitor and some video website thingy I've probably seen at one point. Pasty liked blogging and filming herself on the internet a lot, she preferred to keep her personal life private. We all saw how that turned out: total fail, am I right? 

"Hey Pasty," I smirked as I poked my head through the window, my hand pushing the window up so I could enter her room.

"Crap! Duncan, you almost scared the hell out of me! Anyways...everyone, fans, give a warm welcome to Duncan! You've seen him before, haven't you guys?" Gwen dragged me into the video frame while I chuckled in response. Her arm was wrapped around my waist, showing me off to the virtual audience. I looked back at the camera then back at her.

I just continued to stare at her, not knowing what to say until I just coughed up the words, "Aren't you quite excited to see me?" 

"Yeah, well, kinda." Her fingers raked themselves through my mohawk.

It felt all too familiar.