Night in the Ruts

I Know - Steven

She's totally playing me.  I know it.  Joe knows it.  I told him about it and he said she was playing me but he also said to let it drop because she's seventeen and that's technically illegal.  I'm not really sure what he thought I was thinking when he said that's, but I'm sure they weren't the same things.  Quite similar, but a little different.

        I don't know why I was drawn to her.

        She's mysterious, in a way that makes me want to figure every little detail out.  I'm just not sure why.  Of course, she's beyond gorgeous, she just doesn't happen to show it.

        Ever since I saw her standing frozen outside my 'dressing room' after the show in Rhode Island, I knew she was something special.  Her sister scared the shit out of me when she came out of the room.  Now she I believed was brought in for the band.  Charlie?  No way.

        It's hard to tell if she's into me, because she's keeping up this I've-got-a-boyfriend façade, but I've got a feeling she's about to crack.

        She has the most beautiful eyes in the world–I could write a whole song about them–like a deep, deep ocean.  If she were to wear one of those long, gypsy dresses, I'd've thought that she were some sort of gypsy-angel thing sent down to take me.  I'm not sure where she'd take me, but I know that it would be great.  Maybe she'd just take me.  I'd be okay with that.

        Anyway, my conversation with Joe this morning went something like this.  The girls had left early, before we were awake, so it was just the two of us.  We were talking about Charlie, who at the time was still known as Penny Lane (after I reminded him who that was).

        "She's totally playing you," he said knowingly.  Fuck him.

        "Yeah, I know.  But why?"

        "I dunno.  Ask her.  Why d'you care?" Joe asked, stealing my joint before I could even light it.  Asshole.

        "Have you seen her?" I asked, incredulous as to why I wouldn't care.

        "Yeah.  So why do you care?"

        "She's fuckin' gorgeous, number one," I said; it's obvious, right?

        "Oh-kay," Joe replied slowly, ridiculing me.

        "Seriously!" I exclaimed, getting pissed.  "I don't know what it is that draws me to her, it's some outside force or something fucked like that!  I really want–I don't even know.  Just forget about it.  It's stupid, anyway, right?"

        Joe looked up at me finally.  I hate how he just hangs his head with his hair in his face, seeming like he's ignoring you.  "You've done the unspeakable."  I stare at him in plain confusion.  "You've fallen in love."

        I laughed then.  I actually laughed out loud.  Joe pierced me with his eyes, no hint of a smile, and I froze.  "You're serious," I said dully.

        "Yeah.  You hardly know the chick, you didn't fuck her, you hardly kissed her, all you did was talk to her and now you can't stop thinking about her.  Obviously you've got some sort of feeling going on," Joe said simply.  And every word was true, too.

        There's no way I could've fallen in love with Penny Lane.  I'm simply fascinated in her.  That's all.  She's so self-secluded that I could talk to her for hours and not learn a thing about her.

        What's happening to me?  Have I already peaked my career?  I've only just formed a band with these guys!  I can't be done yet!  I can't fall in love until I'm done with this career.  I don't think I can fall in love in general.  The classic 'rockstar' persona is sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll.  No love, no marriage, no family, no kids, no... No mushy-gushy.  Just coke, music, and fucking.