Betrayal (Bruno Mars Fanfiction)

Chapter 2

I pick Janelle up off of the floor of the tour bus and she wraps her legs around my waist. Our lips move together, my mouth dominating hers. I turn and lift her up onto the table, leaning over her with my arms now on either side of her head. After a moment, she starts to sit up, wrapping one arm around my neck and moving the other to my zipper as she continues to kiss me. Her hips begin to grind against mine, sending shockwaves down my body.

Without breaking the contact of our lips, I lift her back onto my waist and move into the back room where my bunk is, isolated from the bunks of the rest of my band. I lay her down onto the mattress and move my hand down her body, touching and feeling her skin. I slide my hand up her shirt and clutch her breast, running my thumb across her nipple and eliciting a light moan from her lips, still against mine.

Suddenly, without warning, she scoots out from under me and backs up against the corner of the bed. She has a look of deep desperation in her eyes as she looks at me. Through the sound of our harsh breaths a moment later, she murmurs, “Wait…”

I awake suddenly in a deep haze, my phone still in my hand. Shit, I had forgotten about that night.

We had just left the stage; I had carried her off in my arms. When we had gotten backstage and I put her on the floor, she looked at me with that same desperate look she gave me in the bus. And then, without any hint of a warning, she kisses me. Deeply. One thing led to another, and the next thing I know, we’re in the tour bus, and I’m locking the door from the inside.

We never fucking went through with it, though. That night was the last show of the tour, and she didn’t want to start anything then. I respected that, and she awkwardly left the bus, her head down as she passed the band members waiting at the door. We hadn’t spoken much since then.

I look at the time; it’s 7:43 in the morning. I’m lying on the floor in my living room, leaning up against the edge of my couch. I check the notifications on my phone. 4 texts from Phil, 6 emails from Brandon. Janelle must not have gotten my voicemail yet… It’s probably for the best that she didn’t answer, considering how drunk I was.

I groggily open the texts from Phil.

2:24AM: Bro are u ok? i just got a text from ryan, said to check on u?

2:32AM: Hello?? i know you cant be asleep yet.

2:46AM: Did something happen?

3:02AM: Im coming over after i wake up. Call me

Shit.

I sit up, my phone still in my hand. I dial Phil’s number and press the phone to my ear. When he picks up, I can tell I just woke him up.

“Hey, did you get my tex—”

“Ryan slept with Jessica,” I interrupt him.

There is a long pause. “…what??”

“You heard what I said. I came home early last night and caught them.”

“What happened??” he questions, anger clearly building up inside of him.

“I beat his ass! But I think the only reason I could do it is because he was so surprised—”

“I damn sure hope he would be surprised! Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with him? You’ve known each other since you were kids.”

“I know,” I say sternly. I pause. “But I never want to see that asshole again.”

He’s silent for a moment. “…and…what about Jessica?”

“We’re fucking done. I don’t ever want to see that bitch again either.”

I can practically hear him cringing as I speak. “Bruno…there’s something you should know about Jessica…”

“…what?”

“She’s…uhh… I’ll… I’ll tell you later,” he stutters, “I need to go. I need to have a fucking conversation with Ryan. Don’t worry about coming into the studio today, I’ll tell Brandon you had a personal matter to deal with. I’m sorry bro.”

“Okay? I guess I’ll… talk to you later then…” What the fuck is he keeping from me?

“Yeah. Call me if you need anything. Bye.”

Can I trust no one anymore? Christ.

An hour later, I step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist. From the other room, I hear the ringtone from my cell phone start to sound. I quickly move into the bedroom, finding the pants I had worn and taking the phone out of the pocket.

Janelle.

I quickly answer the call and put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Bruno! I’m sorry I missed your call, I was sleeping,” she laughs, “Are you okay? I just listened to your message; you sounded a little drunk, but mostly really upset. I couldn’t understand half of what you were saying though…”

“I’m okay now. I was just drunk and I guess I was looking for someone to talk to,” I lie, “But since I have you on the line, how are you? I listened to a bit of Electric Lady, it sounds really good.”

“I’m great, actually! And thank you, that means a lot coming from you. Unorthodox Jukebox is amazing, I’m in love with Natalie.”

“Thank you. I worked really hard on it.”

“I can tell! It’s great,” she continues. “Gosh, we haven’t talked in forever. How’s your girlfriend? What was her name again?”

The thought of her makes me grind my teeth and I have to restrain myself from cursing her name.

“Jessica. She’s fine. We’re not dating anymore though, we broke up months ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You know how the media is. I’ve heard rumors.”

“I know, it’s cool… So, you wanna maybe come over sometime? We can hang out, maybe jam a little bit. Catch up.” What the fuck am I doing?

“Sure, that sounds fun. When are you free?”

“Any time. Tonight?” I ask. I’m so fucking stupid.

“Yeah, tonight’s good for me. You still in that big house here in LA?”

“Yep, that’s the one. I’ll send you the address if you need it.”

“Okay, great! See you tonight around 8 then!”

“Okay. See you soon. Bye.” I press the end button.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” I say after I hang up the phone. “There’s no way she’s gonna do anything with me.”

I quickly get dressed and start to clean up the house. I set the dresser back up, sweeping the shards of glass from the picture frames underneath it. I close the curtain in front of the broken window, making a mental note to get it fixed, and I set the bed upright again, stripping the sheets from the mattress to throw them away. After putting a fresh set of sheets on the bed, I move into the living room to clean up the mess there. By the time I’m done, it’s nearly 10.

I go into the living room and lay down on the couch, starting one of the latest recordings on my DVR of Breaking Bad. Soon, I drift into sleep.

I wake up to my phone ringing in my pocket. I answer it blindly without looking at the caller ID. “Hello?” I ask groggily.

“Bruno,” says a familiar voice. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine, Phil, what’s up?” I ask with a slightly rude hint to my voice, remembering the annoyance he had caused me this morning.

“I uhh… I need to tell you something. It’s been bothering me all day,” he states.

I look at the clock. It’s almost 7. Damn, that was a long nap.

“Okay, what is it? I have someone coming over at 8.”

“I really don’t know how to tell you this. She told me a few months ago… I don’t know why the fuck she hasn’t told you yet—”

“God damn it Phil, what is it?”

“Jessica is pregnant. It’s yours.”