Channel Surfing
"See, it doesn't work that way. You and me? We're not built for this shit. We were never meant to go out on dates or shit, you said so yourself. Hurting, fucking, hey... seems like it's all we're both good at. At least for each other."Faith's words echoed in the back of my head the entire silent way back to the hotel, all the way up to the room
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Of course it did.
Then Wes started laughing and couldn't stop. It was getting on my fucking nerves, so I stepped over to where he was watching the TV and even hadda smirk to myself.
"Showgirls, huh? The VH-1 version, no less." I shook my head and finished off my cig before actually braving the weather - nah, not the shit outside but the one right here - and started watching with him. Hadda admit, the guy had good taste.
One of the most cheesiest, fucking idiot piece of shit movies ever made, and I fucking loved it. The VH-1 version, of course, had this shitty drawn-on bra and panties all over the the girls that looked so fake, it was worse than the move itself ( ... )
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I glanced up, seeing Faith standing behind the couch, watching me watch the movie. It was a hopeful sign, but I reminded myself not to push, lest things go terribly wrong again.
"Good Lord, is that why they're not swearing? I knew there was something horribly wrong. More than how terrible the movie is, of course."
Amazing. Light conversation. Perhaps Joe Eszterhas' classic God-awful piece of exploitative trash could finally do the world some good.
The scene switched to the inside of the strip club, the overly red-lit one where the main character began her 'dancing' career, and my jaw fell. It looked as if a crayon-wielding two year-old had been at the film negative, drawing bikinis on the women. I laughed out loud.
"That's... that's just..."
Looking up at Faith and finding her laughing as well, I gestured at the other end of the sofa.
"Faith, sit-- we'll watch the disaster." I slid the bottle of whiskey to the middle of the low table, so it was well within both our reach.
" ( ... )
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"Yeah," I agreed. "pretty much." Cuz, what else could you really say? It was Showgirls for crying out loud.
"Faith, sit-- we'll watch the disaster."
I eyed him as he made room for me to sit, drinks all ready to go, and I slipped down next to him. Not talking. Yeah, we were fucking good at that. Fight, fuck, avoid. I'd said it before and hell... here we were again. Onto step number three.
Didn't really mind it all that much though. The cigs had helped calm me a bit, and as I took a sip of the whiskey, it burned and made it all better at once. Sorta like the way Wes had made me feel when he'd taken that belt across me, hurting me.
Couldn't explain it, but there ya had it. And I didn't wanna fuck it all up again, so I tried to just sit and watch the horror show on TV next to the man who could break, bend, and mold me the same as I could do to him.
Wes brought over a menu for more food and I finally broke out into a grin. A real one.
"What're you in the mood for?""Shit, you hafta ask? Pizza, Wes. Thought ( ... )
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