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Remember Part 7 The early morning light filtered through the curtains and pierced through my eyelids. I squeezed them tighter and immediately felt the pounding in my ears grow louder. Turning away from the sun, I blinked my eyes open and focused on the face lying next to me. My clouded mind was telling me it should just be Scott, but that’s not who I saw. I sat up and looked around quickly. This isn’t my apartment…wait, I’m in Chicago. But this isn’t my hotel room. I saw my clothes on the floor and looked down at myself. I was naked, as was David next to me. The buzzing in my head became a roar as my hangover came on full force. Oh no…no, no, no! How did I end up here? “Morning, babe.” He sat up on his elbow, smiling at me. I was still in a state of confusion. “Don’t ‘morning, babe’ me! What the hell am I doing here?” His smiled faded and he sighed, letting his head drop back on the pillow. “You don’t remember last night.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement edged with disappointment. I tried to recount the events as they slowly but surely came back to me. The House of Blues with Cali and Brad…lots of tequila…talking to Mike, Fuzz and Dan…Jagermeister shots…David pulling me into the dressing room… “Oh my God! David, how could you do this to me?” “What?” “Taking advantage of me when I was drunk!” He sat up and stared at me incredulously, his brows furrowing in anger. “Taking advantage of you? I didn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to do!” “I know I told you to stop!” “Yeah, right before you stuck your tongue down my throat!” I shook my head, pain shooting through my neck. “Yes you did and you can’t say I made you do that! I didn’t make you say how much you wanted me…how much you liked what I was doing to you…and I know you weren’t lying! I know you can’t lie when you’re drunk.” That much was true, alcohol was my truth serum. I felt sadness welling up inside me as the memories of last night unfolded, and the realization of what I had done…what I had done to Scott and our relationship…set in. How could I have let this happen? I changed my ways. I don’t lie and cheat. Not like Scott. Wait a second, that’s not right. Why would I think that? Then it dawned on me and I looked at David, angrily, tightening the sheet around me and moving to the edge of the bed. “You! You were feeding me all those lies! Telling me Scott was cheating on me!” “I wasn’t telling you something you didn’t already know.” “No! You were just messing with my head…twisting things around.” I stood up and glared down at him. I couldn’t bear to have him near me. “Now I remember why I left you! You were always trying to manipulate and control me.” “Why is this all my fault?! Just because Stapp can’t stay away from other women and you can’t stay away from me, you say I’m controlling you?” “I can't stay away from you? You were the one that pulled me into the dressing room!” Anger flashed in his eyes, but his tone softer when he spoke again. “I didn't make you come to the show last night. If I was so terrible to you, why did you even come to see me?” I didn’t answer him. Instead I turned away and began picking up my clothes, still holding the sheet around me with one hand. David crawled to my side of the bed and tugged on the sheet until I was backed up to the side of the mattress. I clutched my clothes to my chest and refused to look at him. He knelt behind me on the bed, wrapping his arms around my waist and softly kissing the exposed skin on my neck and back. “Please, David, just stop.” “I don’t want to fight with you, baby.” He whispered in between kisses. I sighed. “But whenever we’re not fighting, we’re fucking…and I don’t think I want to do either one anymore.” He rested his forehead on my shoulder briefly, then let me go. “I’m going to take a shower. Will you be here when I get out?” I shook my head. “Fine. Do whatever you want.” He stormed into the bathroom and I hurriedly got dressed, and left. I hailed a cab out on Dearborn Street and fretted most of the way back to my hotel. I feared that Scott tried to call me last night and may be suspicious. There were no messages on my hotel phone. I dumped my cell out of my purse. It was out of juice. I called my voicemail from the room phone as I dug through my suitcase for my charger. Three messages: One from Beata, what time is she picking me up today. The next from Cali, did I make it back all right. (I guess as all right as I’m going to be.) The last from Scott, the saved message I got before I went out last night. Well, nothing sounded too horrible so far. It was only about 9:30 out there, so I figured I would give Scott a wake up call--share our hangover woes. Maybe hearing his voice would calm me and I could start trying to put last night into the distant past. Copyright TMS2004 Disturbed Fanfic Page Remember - Part 8   page created with Webpage Designer (NS)