Deep Breath | G.Dolan

Christmas

I was sitting in my room after successfully having put little white lights all over. I was a little late considering there were only about four more days until Christmas...and I'm Muslim so I don't even celebrate it. But it's still my favourite holiday, so whatever.

"Jingle balls, jingle balls, jingle all the way, I'm changing the words and I don't care and Grayson Dolan is an ass. Hey!" I said singing as I flicked on the little lights for the first time. One of them burned out and made a huge popping noise. I jumped. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. He's not a complete ass." I laughed to myself. "Dashing through the hoes, in a baby blue Porsche sleigh, all the boobs we go, laughing all the way. Getting ass from here, getting ass from there, my name's Grayson Dolan and I don't even care, hey! I'm a dick, I'm a prick, I hate my best friend. I haven't talked to her in three weeks so I'm a fucking bend-er. Jingle balls, jingle—"

"What was that?" My bedroom door opened. "I heard a gun shot."

"One of the lights broke," I said pointing to it.

"Don't set my house on fire," he said and closed the door. I continued to whisper sing my song.

Ever since the whole night of the fight "do you love him" pussy shit Grayson has barely said 3 words to me a day FOR ALMOST THREE WEEKS. It's not even like I'm not trying to get him to talk to me he just won't budge. Here's an example of a conversation:

"Hey Grayson, how was your day, tell me it in detail."

"I had some good cheese." AND THAT'S ALL I'LL GET FOR THE ENTIRE FUCKING DAY. He did not want to talk to me. And Ethan said he's like that when he's with them too.

"I'm telling you he's not himself," Ethan said on the phone yesterday. I asked him if he thought it was my fault and he ever so nicely said, "Hell fucking yes." He has such a gentle way with words.

"By the way, we're leaving not tomorrow, the next day," Grayson said coming back in the room.

"Leaving where?" I asked.

"To my mums...for Christmas, Ethan is at Emma's this year." he said. He never asked me to come with him.

"You never told me I was coming home with you for Christmas," I said. Because I kind of have—

"What, do you have plans?" he asked crossing his arms and leaning against the door.

"Yeah, I do. I was going to take the train and spend the weekend in Washington..." It was quiet. "D.C," I said putting my hair up in a bun and checking myself out in the mirror.

"Washington? By yourself? On Christmas?" Then he got it. "You're not going alone." I shook my head. "Fine," he said and slammed the door. How did that song go again? Oh well, I'll just make up a new one.

"Jingle bells, fuck you Grayson I hate you and you hate me and we're never going to be the same again because you're a prick who only likes to talk about cheese and walk around being depressed like a homeless puppy I hate you I hate you I hate you." I think I beat the shit out of Marky Mark in the process of singing that.

"Listen, babe, you're going to hate me," Ian said as I sat in his living room.

"You're cancelling D.C," I said back almost immediately. "What's your excuse this time? Record deal?"

"Actually...yeah," he said with a huge smile on his face. "They want us to leave tonight for London. That's huge! Me and my band and my sister are going," he said getting excited and holding my face in his hands. I couldn't be mad at something like that.

"You have a sister?" He nodded and shrugged. "You always have the best excuses don't you?" I said smiling. He kissed me on the cheek. "How long are you going to be gone for?"