No More No More

Bushy-Bushy-(not-so)-Blond-Hairdo

Joe and I left that morning, arriving in Boston by the afternoon.  Joe held my hand all the way up the stairs.  Why'd we make that goddamn pact to be friends?

        The guys were getting stoned in the living room; Steven was pacing back and forth holding a bottle of whiskey.  He didn't notice Joe and me.  "Guys, c'mon!  Tom, get your bass... We need some more tracks!" he exclaimed.

        None of the boys answered, but they looked in the general direction of where Joe and I stood awkwardly in the doorway.  "Annie's back!" Joey shouted excitedly.

        Steven whirled around to look at me, his eyes instantly dropping to my hand in Joe's.  "Joe," Steven said curtly, "Annie."  Steven had a bit of trouble masking any emotion in his voice when he said my name.  Why is he so upset over this?  He's the one that cheated!

        I chew on my lip, a hard rock in my stomach.  Why'd I agree to come?

      Joe doesn't leave my side for the duration of the day.  Literally, he's always touching me.  The scary part of it (at least for me) is that I don't mind it.  Steven seems to, though.  He's always calling for Joe's attention, trying to pull him away.  Anywhere Joe goes, though, he takes me with him.  Steven doesn't like that one bit.  Especially when it's time to go to bed.  I had fallen asleep curled against Joe on the couch, oblivious to Steven's glances.  When I drifted into unconsciousness, Joe was smoking a blunt and all I could think about was how peaceful things were, despite the recent events... But then again, maybe Joe was just blowing the smoke too close to my face.

The boys recorded today.  I didn't want to go to the studio, but I did anyway.  It's not fun sitting in the booth with the record producers always hitting on you or picking out every little bad detail in a song or predicting which tracks will be a hit.  But Joe (again) did not want me to leave his side, so I went.

        They only got through three songs.  I'm not sure how many takes they'll keep, but it all sounded good to me.  But I also wasn't really listening.  It's otherworldly to watch Joe play.  You get so engrossed in the way he lives the music that you forget about life and you feel like you're a part of his guitar.  (Also the record producers smoke funny, expensive stuff in the tiny sound room).  The way a cigarette or joint hangs from his lips while he plays, like playing comes as second nature to him.  Add his mysterious attitude to all that with the tight pants and the unbuttoned shirt and the hair in his face and it's kind of, well... Strangely captivatingly charming, quite tantalizingly enthralling, and rather enchantingly seductive.

        What the fuck did I just say?

        Long story short, I could not tear my eyes off of Joe and it's really pissing me off that I'm thinking what I'm thinking.  Do you know what I'm thinking?  Of course not... I haven't told you!  I don't particularly want to tell you though.  Some of you will understand...some of you have been in my position (I'm sure we can agree that it sucks)...most, however, will think I'm ridiculous.  Annie, you just found out he was cheating a few days ago!  You loved him with all your heart; your heart has barely had time to mend and now you're thinking this?!  How dare you?

        I don't know.  I don't know how I can think this... I've been trying to not think it for quite a long time but I can't help that he is insanely mind-bogglingly attractive.  I can't help that I'm telling myself to forget the friendship pact and just go out with him already––

        Shit I said it out loud––well, thought, actually...but whatever.  There's no going back now.  I'll never get this off my mind until I either make myself deny it (which seems more than impossible) or tell him and make it happen.  There's no way I can tell him though... I'd never be able to get through that without him laughing at me.  We've been friends for as long as I can remember; Joe laughs at anything ridiculous that I say.  Believe me... This sounds pretty ridiculous.