Posted in fan fiction, fanfiction, fiction, my writing, Simple Plan, Writing

“We should be.” (Bed Hair – Eleven)

Dear Diary,

Pierre is really, really good at fooling the public that he’s happy. That everything is fine in his life and he’s content and enjoying the moments with the band. But, tonight…everyone, and I mean everyone, got to see the real face of Pierre Charles Bouvier.

I knew the truth about us had to come about sooner, rather than later. You know, it being better to clear the air before we embarked on a big tour together. Chuck always used to say that when Pierre and I were still together, by the way. And it did make things easier. Always, no matter the issue. But, this…the way Pierre went about it. Crap…I don’t even want to put words to page. All I can say is that, the shrink he’s seeing (David told me about her)? I hope someone makes him get a hold of her so he can deal with his anger.

I’m still shaking. I can’t even think straight, not really.

It started out okay, to begin with. I was sitting with Bianca and Mark, opposite David who was getting on with both of them like a house on fire. Andy and Ben were engaged in an intense discussion with Seb and Pat about the current state of the music industry. Chuck was busy on his phone, probably checking schedules…workaholic. And Jeff was chatting up one of the waitresses.

And then Pierre arrived, late. No apologies. The only spare seat was next to David, opposite Mark. That was probably the biggest accidental mistake that happened that night. If he’d been at the other end of the table it might not have been such a big issue. The thing was Mark was sitting next to me at this point, having switched with Bianca – her idea. And he was quite close to me.

It all went downhill from there…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Hey, Pierre. Took your time.” David was the first to greet the singer. I could see tension on his face. I couldn’t imagine what was going on in Pierre’s mind, though.

Pierre answered in a low tone, “I was talking to Ms Farrar.”

I frowned. “You’re seeing someone?”

Pierre looked at me, expression guarded. “A shrink. Have…had relationship troubles.” He gripped the back of the chair, the tendons tightening beneath the skin of his hands.

“Oh…that’s no good.” I said, staying as neutral as I could, though his honesty was a shock. “Hope Ms Farrar is helping you through it.”

Pierre’s eyes narrowed. “Sure, act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

I blinked, a little surprised by his statement. Not because what he said wasn’t true, but by the fact that he even voiced it; it seemed to come out of nowhere. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Pierre’s voice rose when he spoke next. “Bullshit. That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

“What the hell, dude?” Mark, who had remained silent next to me until this point, blinked at Pierre, sitting back in his chair. Pierre didn’t even bother looking his way, just continued to glare at me.

David snagged the singer’s sleeve. “Pierre, sit down…you’re causing a scene…” Pierre shot him a hard look in response.

“Marly, what is he talking about?” Bianca said, leaning over the table toward me. “Is he saying what I think he’s saying?”

Pierre scoffed, “Yeah…I am. She was my girlfriend.”

I levelled a cold look at him. “I have a name, Pierre.”

“Seriously?” Bianca muttered. “With that attitude, I can’t imagine why she’d want to be…”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Pierre snapped, glowering beneath his brows at her.

Bianca just sighed, rolling her eyes. I could tell she didn’t want to be drawn into an argument, and I didn’t blame her. I didn’t want this conversation to happen…not here. This was escalating in a way I hadn’t anticipated, and I wasn’t sure how to handle it.

Chuck spoke up from the other end of the table, aware that other patrons in the restaurant were glancing our way. “Pierre. Sit. Down.”

“Stay out of this, Charles,” Pierre bit out, voice harsh.

Everyone else at our table were all now paying attention to us, having stopped their conversations. None of them intervening, though.

I trembled, feeling a sudden anger rise up inside me. “Pierre. Pierre. Look at me.”

“What?” His gaze swung back to me.

“Why are you doing this? What have I done to you?” Yeah, I know. Stupid question of the day…but part of me needed to hear his explanation.

Pierre’s eyebrows raised. “You left me.”

“Damn it, Pierre…I had to finish school.”

“Yeah, you had to fly across to the other side of the country and do that?”

“I explained why.”

Pierre laughed, mirthless. “Sure you did. And you met someone else, hey?” He jerked his chin at Mark.

“What?” I shook my head. “No. Mark is my colleague. And a friend. That’s all.”

“Not for want of trying, though…” Mark said half under his breath. Well, that’s what I think he said…

Pierre sneered, lip curling, “He’s obviously into you.”

“Why is that any of your business? We’re not together anymore, Pierre.” His animosity was frustrating, and I was ready to just end it with that statement.

“We should be,” Pierre said. Getting in the final word.

I opened my mouth then shut it again, staring at him, incredulous. Then I shook my head hard. “I can’t do this, Pierre. I’m not having this conversation with you.” I looked over at the others, standing. “Sorry guys…I gotta go.” I pushed my seat back, grabbing my purse. “I…I’ll see you back at the room.” This last I said to Bianca before making for the entrance of the restaurant.

No one stopped me, which was a relief. I needed to get outside, catch my breath, and figure out what I was going to do about all this.

I paused just outside of the restaurant, glancing back through the window. The crew and both bands appeared at a loss. I could just see Pierre, finally seated with his head down, and Chuck evidently berating him. I turned away and forced myself to walk away, heading aimlessly down the street as I started to think.

I couldn’t fathom what had just happened. All I knew was if this was going to become a problem…then maybe going on this tour was a bad idea. A very bad idea. But, how to break that to Mark and Bianca…

* * * * *


I looked up from my journal, setting my pen down. Bianca stood in the doorway of our room, brow furrowed, her usually happy expression replaced by confusion.

“Hey…didn’t hear you get back.”

Bianca shook her head as she entered the room and flopped onto her bed. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“About Pierre and I?” I didn’t really need to ask the question, it was obvious what she was referring to. However, I needed to ask the question, for myself. If only to make it easier to explain my decision.

Bianca’s lips tightened. “Yeah. I mean…he was your boyfriend.”

“Yes. He was.” I rolled my neck and leaned back on my chair. “And evidently, he hasn’t gotten over the fact that I broke it off with him.”

“How come?”

I rubbed at my face. “I needed to come home whilst I finished my studies.”

“And, you couldn’t do the long distance thing?”

“I thought it was best this way.” I sighed. “Isn’t that reasonable?”

Bianca tilted her head to the side, studying me for a moment. “Do you think it was reasonable?”

I bit my lip then nodded. “Yes. It is reasonable. He’s just…” Pausing, I thought about the fact that Pierre said he was seeing a shrink. “I didn’t think it’d be so hard on him. I mean…he was busy planning a new album, recording and then planning a tour…” I trailed off thinking that the tour was the one we were all on right now. Or at least, the one we were about to embark on.

“Speaking of,” Bianca started, voice faltering a little, before she forged on. “Mark and I get the impression you might bail on us.”

I blinked at her. “You’re perceptive.”

“You shouldn’t. I need a girl buddy. And we still need our merch sorted. Also, all this testosterone around me isn’t healthy.” A slight smirk curled at the corner of her mouth.

I couldn’t help smile a little in return. “I don’t know…”

Bianca actually got off the bed and onto her knees, clasping her hands in front of her. “Please…I neeeeed you, Marlz…”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Seriously, Bianca…” Exhaling, I smiled more. “Alright…alright. But, I need to speak to Pat about how it’s going to work.” I swivelled on the chair, frowning a little. “I’m not dealing with Pierre…”

Bianca stood up again. “Okay, you do that and I’ll let Mark know you’re still with us.” Her smile lit up her eyes and I couldn’t help but feel that everything would be okay. That I’d made the right decision.

Only time would tell.

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