What Might've Been (Cricky)

The Hollywood Ending

We were about a week into the tour when we finally got to stay at a hotel. I was happy to finally get to sleep somewhere more comfortable than a van's bench. My happiness was greeted with even more good news when I found out that I'd be sharing a room with Chris. I'd decided to take some initiative. I was going to kiss him. 

I'd invited Chris to dinner that night, and he'd agreed. It was a more elegant restaurant, so I'd told him to dress a little more formally. I too was partaking in this, at least as much as I possibly could. I'd gone without makeup and with a button down shirt, but there was nothing I could do about my tattoos, long hair, and piercings. 

Oh well, if conservative assholes want to rain on my parade, let them try. I've brought an umbrella anyway. Since there was no chance of bringing another car on tour with us, we had to walk to the restaurant. This would work great with my plans. We walked there in initial silence, fingers laced together. Chris's formal clothes almost matched mine. The only striking difference was the fact that he'd worn a tie too. I'll admit it, it was a nice touch. "It's amusing to me that we're still going for the 'formal goth' look," I told him.

"Black on black on black on black," He chuckled. "But there's really no other way to go, is there?"

"This is true."  When was I supposed to execute this plan? Would there be a good moment? Would I just....know? It dawned on me in that moment that Chris was about six inches taller than me. This would be a lot harder than I thought. 

"Something else on your mind?" He asked, reading me. 

"Just thinking," I assured him. It wasn't a complete lie. Fuck it. I looked up at him. "You have something on your face," I told him.

"I do-?"

"Yeah; right here." I pulled on his arm and stood on the tips of my toes, touching our lips together for a brief moment. When I let go, I regretted it immediately. "I-I that was stupid of me," I apologized.

"No, no!" Chris waved his hands dismissively. "It's alright! I was wondering when you were gonna do something like that, actually. Might I say, well played." He smiled. "Very Hollywood."

A heat rushed to my face as I continued to walk forward. He re-laced our fingers and walked in the awkward silence with me. All I could think about was the softness of Chris's lips, the closeness of his perfect eyebrows, his sweet breath on mine for a moment. It left a tingly feeling all through me. I'd not felt this way since high school. 

Our date was very slow, and filled with a lot of wine. I didn't realize how many I'd had until my tongue felt heavy in my mouth and the lights seemed to twinkle light night stars. This amount of wine made me tell Chris that he was beautiful so many times I think I was honestly just sitting there staring at him. 

At the end of the night, he served as a sort of crutch while I stumbled around on the street. "You might wanna start walking before you're sick all over your clothes," Chris advised me. 

"Mmmhhm," I nodded slowly, head feeling like it was a thousand pounds. We walked in an odd fashion for another twenty minutes before finally getting to the hotel at which we were staying. Chris  practically pulled me inside, and he helped me up into the elevator to our floor. 

He slid the key card into the door and pushed me inside, following and putting up a 'do not disturb' sign afterwards. I fell down onto the bed, shoes and all. Chris took his shoes off before pulling down the sheets on his side and slipping under them. I followed this and then moved to start ripping his shirt off. "No, no," He told me. "You're drunk."

"Nikki Sixx probably had sex a thousand times when he was high!" I complained. 

"You're not Nikki Sixx, and I'm not a groupie," He disputed the point calmly. He kissed my lips softly. "Now go to sleep."

"How can I go to sleep when you're in this bed with me and all I wanna do is get off?!" My voice grew whiny. 

"That's just the wine talking. You'll regret it tomorrow, and I'm not taking advantage of your vulnerability." I leaned forward and kissed him several times, trying desperately to slip my tongue into his mouth and change his mind. 

"I'm not that drunk. Just a few more kisses and I'll rock your world."

Chris laughed softly. He got out of the bed and went into the bathroom. I felt a surge of disappointment flow all through me. He came back with a cap full of fluid. "Drink this," he told me. 

"What is it?" I asked, taking the cap from his hand. 

"It'll help you sleep."

I drained the whole thing as though it were a very tiny shot. It was a very short time between me drinking that and darkness taking me over. I felt a soft touch on my forehead which I could only assume was Chris kissing me. I fell asleep immediately afterwards.