A Foreign Love Song (Jake Bateman x Johnnie Guilbert)

14: Johnnie

I called up Jake a few minutes after Nikki had left, and we'd worked out next week's time. He'd come here again, mostly because I'd tried to tell him that I really didn't need him to be here at all. He answered after two rings. "What's up, Johnnie?"

"You got me a fucking therapist?!" I demanded, livid. "How could you do that?! I told you I was fucking fine!!"

"Did you like him?" He asked, sounding calm. Why is everyone so calm all of the time? I don't understand.

"Not at all! He's a complete dick who tricked me into talking to him by being nice to me!"

"Oh, no. How dare he?" Jake replied sarcastically. "So he's good at his job, what's the problem?"

"The problem is that I told you specifically not to do this!"

"You need the help, Johnnie. And it's for your own good. The last I want is for you to end up locked away, monitored twenty-four-seven. Is that what you want? At least this guy's only gonna show up once a week."

I put my head in one of my hands. "Why do you want to control my life?"

"I don't give a damn what you do with your life, what I want is for you to understand that you really need this help. It's like when.....when Max Green had to go to rehab and get clean. You need to detox that brain of yours one way or another." As he spoke, I rummaged through the drawers to find that notebook that Nikki was making me write. I found it, and took a pen next to it, writing in big, childish ink:

THIS IS THE MOST FUCKING STUPID THING I'VE EVER HAD TO DO! MY FRIENDS DON'T TRUST ME AND I DON'T EITHER! WHAT WILL FIX MY FUCKING BRAIN BUT A BULLET RIGHT THROUGH IT?!

Oh, shit. I shouldn't have written that. "Whatever, asshole," I said, and then I hung up on him. I tapped the pen against the edge of the paper, contemplating what else to write. If Nikki and Jake want a show, I'm going to give them a full fucking tour.

Sanity is overrated. I miss being lonely but I don't wanna be alone. What am I thinking about when I fall straight through the Earth? Why does a blade get me high? The end of my cigarette hurts worse than any stabs in the back but I want it anyway. My head feels worse than that pistol, so I want the latter more.
WHY DO I THINK ABOUT MY BEST FRIEND IN THE SHOWER???
These walls drip with nothing but the anxiety that's destroying my life. That's my, my, my, my Michelle. Will I make him proud? Will I make her proud? What if I could just.....feel happy all the time? Something to shut my brain off.
The blade.

I closed it with the pen inside. Is that insane enough to satisfy? Stay tuned.

I spent the rest of the week writing more things like that, filling the journal with my life's insanity. And when Nikki came, he asked for it. I handed it to him, feeling a little proud of myself for writing half of the shit that I had. Nikki read it all carefully, nodding as he read something particularly interesting. He closed the journal and smiled at me. "You have lonely heart syndrome," He said simply. 

"You're kidding, right? Did you read half of that?"

"I did. Most of it was just your strange attempts at getting yourself some attention. I'll admit, you almost fooled me. But I've seen all of this before."

I slumped back onto the couch, feeling lousy. "You didn't buy a word of it?"

"Not a single one. But I read between the lines, and saw the parts that matter. You're just hot for Jake and struggling with depression. You're trying to find a way to fill that hole in your heart, but you just can't find one that works." 

After Nikki gave me a list of things to try to boost my self-confidence, he left because the hour was up, stomping out in his spikey rock star boots. I decided a week of avoiding Jake was long enough, so I went to pay him a visit. 

I knocked on his door, cringing after I'd done so. Jake opened it, running his fingers through the pink part of his hair. He looked like he'd been experimenting with eye makeup, because his eye lids were covered with pink and glitter. "Hey, Johnnie. Everything okay?" 

"I've been meaning to apologize for a few things. Really apologize. I appreciate you looking out for me, I guess. And Nikki isn't so bad." I shrug, thinking about it. "And I'm sorry we had a lousy date, I wasn't thinking." 

"It wasn't that bad," He assured me. "At least until you cut yourself," He shuttered after he's said it. "That wasn't cool at all."

I looked down at my shoes, which might I add, weren't even half as cool as Nikki's. "You're right." I turned around, no longer in the mood to see him. "I'm gonna go."

"Already? You just got here!" Jake complained. "Can't you stay for just a little bit?"

I shook my head, my head just not able to have the capacity to stay right now. "No thanks. I'll see you around, though."

Jake saw through me though, knowing that I was going through one of my swings. "I won't talk to you, but I really do love your company," He said. I turned around and saw him leaning against the door frame. His eyes were pleading but sincere. I guess it wouldn't hurt to force myself to do this.

"Oh, alright," I sighed, complying. I entered his apartment as he stepped aside for me. I immediately slumped against his couch, finding that he'd been watching Paradise City. It was back on the first episode. I assumed that he started it over again, but I didn't want to say anything to him. Jake, knowing that I didn't want to stay anyways, sat in the chair on the other side of the rug that defined the area of the living room.

And we did this for a few episodes, which amounted to a few hours. We sat there in silence just watching, occasionally sneaking glances at each other. Jake looked like he had something on his mind, and after the fourth episode ended, I finally spoke up. "Thanks for this," I told him. 

"No problem," He shrugged. "But can I ask you just one thing?"

"If you want."

"Can we try going out on another date sometime?"