Vince

Bench Warmers

I started laughing but I stopped after the look I was given. I was trying my best not to continue laughing, but the frown on Vince's face made it so difficult.

"It's not funny. I'm suffering," Vince said, readjusting how he was sitting.

"I know it isn't funny, I'm sorry." I was unable to wipe the smile off my face.

"If only god didn't curse me with such a big dick, maybe I wouldn't be in this situation." Vince dramatically wiped a fake tear from his eye.

"If this woman keeps hurting you then maybe you shouldn't film together," I considered.

"My fans love her. I've tried bringing in new women but they don't have the same response," Vince sighed.

"That's unfortunate."

"How're you feeling now? Ready to go back inside?" Vince asked.

"I don't think so. Go back if you want. I'm probably just going to go home," I replied.

"One guy shouldn't be able to ruin your night. I'll order all your drinks for you if you want," Vince offered.

"It's not about the drinks. Well, it is a little bit. That guy was a douchebag and I'd like to see him get bit by a rabid animal, but that's not why I'm so upset," I explained.

Vince looked over at me with such sympathetic eyes that I felt compelled to continue, "I lost my brother to a drunk driver."

"And that's why you don't drink." Vince nodded in understanding.

I felt my throat tighten and I had to fight to get the words out, "My parents were always very careful when it came to their kids. They had us call them before we left and they would know how long it should take us to get home. When my brother didn't get back..."

Vince placed his hand on my shoulder and I let my tears fall silently down my face, "The police said that the driver was going eighty miles an hour. My brother was too young to know to get the hell off the road when someone was driving like that. He was twelve."

Vince said nothing. He just allowed me to cry for as long as I needed. When I was finally out of tears, he stood up and offered me his hand.

"Let's get you home."

I took his hand and we began walking. I was glad that Vince had decided not to call a cab. The wind rushed past my face and started to dry my tears. By the time we reached my house I was fine again.

"Would you want to come in?" I asked, "I can repay you for the fries."

Vince nodded and I opened the door for him. He walked inside my home and sat on a stool near the counter.

"Do you mind giving me a minute to change? My feet are dead from walking in these heels," I groaned.

"Shit I didn't think about that," Vince said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

"Hey, it's fine. No worries," I said, walking off to change.

I felt free the second my bare feet hit the carpet in my room. I struggled for a good five minutes to try to get the zipper down on my dress with no success. I walked out of my room to find Vince still sitting where I left him.

"Zipper?" I asked.

I turned my back to him and felt his hands move my hair to one side. I could feel him struggling with the zipper too and I was starting to become impatient.

"I think this thing is really stuck," Vince said after a minute.

"There's nothing you can do?" I asked, the hope draining from my system.