So Real

Yeah, so this is the second part of my "Story." I don't know what this is.

He sluffed her off of the bar stool and over his shoulder. "Damn Martinis" he muttered. Sighing, he carried her back to the bedroom and laid her on the king sized bed. The bedroom was different from the rest of her apartment, it was decidedly "her." Her walls were a rich aquamarine trimmed with a white molding wrapping itself around the whole room. It was Victorian meets the Bahamas complete with a fake banana tree nestled in the corner and a walk out balcony closed off by windowed doors with French shutters.

She slept peacefully with her dark hair splayed out behind her like a crown. Biting his lip, he tried to figure out what to do with himself. Should he flop down next to her or go crash on the couch in the living room? It wasn't until he felt a slight pressure on his hand, did he realize her hand was still clutching his. "Oh Well" he resolved, and climbed into bed next to her.

The sunlight found it's way through her shutters and right into her eyes. Blinkingly, she adjusted to the light and turned over to peek at the clock, but instead of seeing the glow of the red numbers all she saw was a block of Black and White. Slowly pushing herself up she saw that it was 7:32, "God damn," she thought. Then she turned to inspect the monochromatic block that had hijacked the other side of her bed. The monochromatic block happened to have stout arms and legs, very hairy arms and legs at that. She then came to realize that this quadrilimbed shape was actually a man lying in her bed. She prodded him (whoever "he" was) with her foot. Her only response was a annoyed grunt, followed by him rolling over towards her.

Gasping as she recognized the strange man's face, she jumped out of her bed staring dumbfounded at him. "How, When, What, WHY!" she asked herself. She looked back at the sleeping figure, noticing that he was still fully clothed, she breathed a sigh of relief. Deeming him harmless while he was in a deep state of sleep she padded to her bathroom to go take a shower.

He blinked his eyes twice and sat up in the bed. He looked around and noticed the girly decor and wondered where he was. He heard the busy street below, and looked out over the window. He could tell he was on Ponce De Leon drive, but it still didn't give him a clue to what girl's apartment he was in. The only person who could afford to live on this part of Ponce was his friend Jason, who lived in an apartment right over the store he ran with that girl. That's when he realized, he was in her apartment. With the sharp pain of a bad hangover, the previous night started coming back to him. He was consoling her after she caught her girlfriend cheating on her, and they had ended up drinking quite a bit before passing out. Comforted on knowing where he was and who he was with, he rolled away from the light to go back to sleep. Five minutes later he heard a knock on the one of the doors. He called out for her, but there was no response. Hearing some water running he figured she was in the shower. Meanwhile, the knocking turned into incessant banging. With a sigh he got up, briefly thanking god that he had clothes on, and went to answer the door. Looking through the peephole he saw a tall woman, with a spiky peacock haircut wearing Harvard sweats. He opened the door, only to be brushed past immediately by the tall woman with a look of disdain. "Well is she here, is she okay? She hasn't been answering her phone." Her accent was a thick Boston one, with a hint of Jersey twang, "this must be that bitch Gina" he thought to himself.

"Uhh.. I think she's in the shower" he replied trying to figure out how he was going to get out of the apartment before the shit hit the fan. "Uh, hold on." he went back to the bedroom, to buy some time. He heard the water stop and went to warn her.

She was toweling the last of the water off of her legs when he burst through the door. "Could you knock?" she asked angrily. He smirked and retorted "It's not like I haven't seen it all before." She didn't find it funny but went along drying off. "Well what's so important that you had to barge in on me in the bathroom?" she asked. "Uh, well Gina's in the front room, and she wants to see you." At the mention of that name, the recent events rushed into her head. Gina's accidental voicemail, the crying, the dinner, him. Her legs gave out and she fell onto the bathroom floor. As he went to go help her up, she lifted her head marked with silent tears. "Why would you let her in?" she sighed.

"I didn't she barged past me, and demanded to speak to you." Seeing the pain in her eyes he tried to save her from what was sure to be a very ugly confrontation. "I'll go kick her out." he turned on his heel and made for the door when she called out. "Wait," she hiccuped from her crying, "don't tell her I know." He half smiled, and agreed.

"She doesn't want to see you" he said as he walked back into the living room. Gina looked confused and then mad. "What are you talking about?" she asked angrily. "She said, that she doesn't want to see you, and she'll call you later. Right now, it's best for you to leave." Gina's brow furrowed farther, threatening to become one very thick caterpillar-like unibrow. "Well since we're playing telephone, tell her that if she's gonna act this way I'd rather not see her until she grows the hell up."