Disclaimer: Don't own it.
Title: Oh, the story? Why, that's Drunks, Lovers, Sinners, And Saints. The chapter well, you big silly, that's named for the song quotes: ".44 Caliber Love Letter"
Genres: General, Angst, Drama, Romance. Hell, I could go on for a while…
Rated: 'M' -Why? You know why. Drugs, Sex, And Rock'n'Roll. (Though there will be considerably more drugs and sex than Rock'n'Roll) Though at the moment it's mostly for cursing.
Writing Tools: Microsoft Word, of course, Windows Media player, Trident Gum, my MP3 Player, the Internet, and (every writer's best friend) plenty of Caffeine.
Tunes: All three Alexisonfire albums In chronological order: Alexisonfire ('02), Watch Out! ('04) and Crisis ('06) The Smashing Pumpkins' Siamese Dream album, "Remember To Feel Real" by Armor for Sleep, "Calling All Cars", "All the Best Cowboys Have Daddy Issues", and "Sick Or Sane" by Senses Fail, oh, and "Napoleon Solo" by At The Drive-In.
People: Me, Myself, and I.
Author's Note: This is something I've been playing around with for a very long time. At least the concept is. The title, chapters, and quotes are all by the wonderful Canadian Post-Hardcore quintet Alexisonfire (who are amazing live and awesome song writers). In order to properly enjoy this particular work all the events of Season 6 should be henceforth disregarded. Unless I bring something up intentionally. Aw, you'll get the hang of it. I'm trying a different writing approach this time, smaller chapters, more frequent updates. Here's hoping it actually works.
The first step in forgetting
Is destroying all the evidence"
--- Alexisonfire "44. Caliber Love Letter"; Alexisonfire (self-titled debut)
Alex turned around and met Paige's warm blue-green eyes. The brunette leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to her lover's lips, "Mmmm… flattery will get you everywhere," she purred. Paige giggled and playfully pushed Alex back onto the bed.
"Hon, I could call your grandmother a crack-whore skank and it would get me 'everywhere'."
Alex scoffed, tried her best to sound insulted before reversing their positions, "Why, Ms. Michalchuk, no one insults my grandmother."
"Yeah. Now I'll have to punish you."
Paige gave a slightly silly smirk and began to speak-
"What the fuck?" Alex blinked blearily.
There were flashing blue lights on the nightstand.
"Fuckin' goddamn phone," she slurred and groped for the offending object, limbs heavy with sleep. With a few more mumbled epithets she flipped the phone open and brought it to her ear, "Whoever this is you better have a damn good reason for calling me on my day off at," she glanced at the alarm clock on the end table, "9 o'clock in the fuckin' morning."
She heard someone draw in a shaky breath, "Alex."
"Jay! What the hell are yo-"
"Alex, shut up."
His voice was too flat, too level to offer any comfort. Her pulse jumped.
He laughed shrilly; it sounded almost like crying, "Lexi, I'm in trouble. God," he sobbed a bit, "God, I screwed up bad, Lex."
The insane urge to hang up and hurl the phone across the room was powerful. If she didn't hear what he had to say than she wouldn't have to worry. Everything would be okay. Her fantasy was shattered by his next words.
"I need your help."
A million thoughts flashed through her mind. Somehow, all of them lead back to the memory of a thirteen-year-old Jay taking a punch from her mom's leech-of-the-week, (John, or Tom, or some other faceless name) after said leech had called her a bitch and Jay defended her honor by making a joke about the size of the man's penis. She knew what she would say this time. It was the same thing she would say every time.
"You've got it. You know you do," she sighed deeply, "Now tell me what the fuck you just got me into."
"Oh, Jesus, Al! Thank you, you don't know how much this-"
"What did you do, Jay?"
Silence on the other end, broken only by harsh breathing.
"J-just… meet me at my place."
A click signified the end of the conversation.
She let loose a strangled scream, flopping back onto the bed and bringing a pillow over her face.
Jay Hogart would be the death of her.
"With friends like you
Who needs Subtext?
This is a .44 Caliber Love Letter
Straight from my heart"
Paige closed the lid on her suitcase. Sara, her dorm mate of three semesters watched placidly from the doorway. She cocked her head and surveyed the stripped-down closet with mild curiosity, "So… how long are you going to be gone, again?"
Paige folded her hands behind her back and thought a moment, "Um… probably until classes start again, so… that'd be about , oh, three months?"
Sara nodded. Paige recognized the red eyes, the vapid smiles, the pauses between words. Sara was stoned out of her mind. The blonde sighed, it wouldn't be the first time. Despite her pot-headedness and tendency to get a bit cruel in her quest for gossip Paige and Sara got along okay for dorm mates. The fact that they were never forced into spending too much time together outside of the dorm was a large contributing factor. Still, there were plenty of friendly moments and enough mildly-fond memories to keep them on the better side of acquaintanceship.
Paige snapped the lock on her luggage. Sara blinked. Paige stood up and took one last glance at the pitifully small room (which she had always thought of as more of a large closet - disgrosting) and felt no sadness. Only an unbidden feeling that what she was about to do was somehow right. It was almost enough to let her forget about the butterflies in her stomach and the sweat gathering on her palms.
Her bags were uncharacteristically light when she lifted them off her bed. She was packing lightly, a medium-sized duffle bag of clothes and a suitcase of other essentials. She still had clothes in her old closet at home and she planned on indulging the urge to shop (possibly, quite literally, until she dropped) that she'd had to restrain during her time at Banting.
She had spent a week taking down her posters, and cleaning out her closet to make way for Sara's cousin (who's name escaped her at the moment). The girl would be staying with her roomie for the break and Paige had reluctantly offered her room after listening to Sara bemoan her distress for three straight weeks. And because she knew that if she didn't consent Sara would just sneak her cousin into Paige's room and that would mean risking damage to her stuff.
With a sigh she began to walk out of the room. Sara gazed at her serenely before following at a slower pace. The tranquil blue-haired girl yawned briefly and looked almost sad, "Well, I'll see you… whenever."
"Yeah, I guess," a sigh, "Bye, Sara."
She paused with her hand on the door knob and added as an afterthought, "Oh, and Sara?"
A brief pause as the words registered, "Yeah?"
"Don't let anyone have sex in my bed."
A snort that passed as a laugh was all she got in response.
More laughter followed her out the door and she was almost certain that she would be replacing her sheets, and probably her mattress, when she returned. Better Safe Than Sorry.
"Christened by your Bullet
I'm losing patience
Well, I guess…
It's my own fault"
End Notes: Review, or you can kiss another update goodbye. Yeah, that IS a threat.