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Too many years tearing down Even though we couldn't believe
"Eat my ass, Josh," Alex snapped, struggling to zip her ankle boot shut while standing shakily. It'd taken all of ten minutes after she'd abruptly ended the interview for him to come calling. The frontman was an earworm she couldn't seem to shake, and all he wanted to whine were words of reunion.
A bark of laughter rang through the speaker at her uncouth insult. Josh found hassling her hilarious, one of his favorite pastimes, really. And, usually, she played along, but now she found it irksome. Sometimes, sleeping dogs were just meant to lie, you know?
"That's not very ladylike, Alex," his admonishing voice called from across the room.
Her eyes rolled—like he was one to talk. "You're ladylike enough for the both of us," she bit back, doubling down on the disgruntled dig. She'd managed to put her shoes in place and was now staring at the idle phone in agitation. "I don't know what you expected," she huffed, perching her hands on her hips.
Another tittering chuckle reverberated through the empty hotel room. "Butterflies, rainbows, love. Is that too much to ask?"
Yes, it was too much to ask. He knew it, and she knew it. Hell, they all knew it, but they persisted in pestering her regardless. Josh wasn't her fairy godmother, despite dressing like one, and he couldn't grant wishes of reconciliation. "I was just doing my job," she argued, though it lacked conviction.
"Yes, just doing your job, I'm sure," Josh mused, and she could picture the condescending way his chin came to rest on his fingertips. "And a mere two hundred and twelve miles away. Now that, I find interesting."
Alex was glad he couldn't see the telling blush that rose to her face. Ok, so it hadn't been entirely incidental, her proximity. Had she offered to do the interview? Yes. After all, she was still on amicable terms with three-fourths of the band. And, she actually was doing a piece on Dirty Streets. Though, to be fair, those two things had lined up intentionally.
If she said she hadn't wondered what it would be like, seeing them, seeing him again, she'd be struck down by lightning as a deceiver. It had been nearly two years, and even though time was supposed to heal all wounds, most days, it still felt like she was bleeding out. Today, today had just dug the knife in deeper.
"Alex," Josh sang her name when the silence became too stifling.
She didn't know what to do now. Clearly, Jake still held residual resentments, hence the beer pong quip that had ended the interview. But, if he had elevated beyond everything, then why make the bitter remark at all? Alex was wavering between blissful ignorance and blinding veracity. "I really do have work," she reasoned, picking at a stubborn piece of lint sitting on her shoulder.
"But after?" Josh asked hopefully, followed by the sound of shuffling on the other end. He was probably hiding in some storage closet so as not to be caught consorting with the enemy. Coward.
