ivybgreenflower: The Beatles (late period), surrounded by green plants and red flowers (Default)
Ivy ([personal profile] ivybgreenflower) wrote2004-04-16 12:21 am

The part of Dark Sweet Lady that was deleted last night, rewritten. (and thusly shorter.)



Vicki didn't bother to knock on the door, because the bass on Samara's stereo was doing it for her. She waltzed in and she only caught a teeny glimpse of a shoe-strewn living room and a lot of mascara-stained tissues before she her view was obstructed by a black flying object. It turned out to be Samara. "Ohhhhh Vicki I can't believe it it was so terrible why did he do that Vicki what did I do wrong how can I gethimbackImisshimshedoesn'tdeservehimandI-" Vicki clapped her hands on Samara's shoulders and shook her. "Sammi, Breathe," she ordered. Samara took a deep, shuddering breath. A pause. Then- "But Vicki it's not fair, I can't help it sometimesIjustgetannoyingbutthat'snoreasontotorturemeeee oh Viiiicckkkkiiiiiiiiiiiii..."
Vicki clamped her hand firmly over Samara's mouth and dragged her to the living room where she deposited her onto the couch. She went over to the little stereo that was blasting it's little heart out and switched it off. "Ok, Sammi, spill. Why is the record player broken, why are your shoes everywhere, and what happened with your ex and his new wh... housemate? You know, if I didn't know better, I'd think you'd had a wild one-night-stand with a male stripper who had a serious shoe fetish. Or you wanted to practice playing tennis! So you rented one of those ball-shooty-thingies and loaded it up with stilletos." Samara sniffed in reply. Vicki handed her a tissue and sat down next to her, patiently waiting. Samara opened her mouth to talk, but Vicki raised a hand to stop her. "Wait. Before you start... I want you to sign an oath, in blood, that you will put spaces between your words while telling me everything."
"Can we just pinkie swear instead?"
"Sure, but I'm holding you to it."
"Ok."
So they did.
Samara told Vicki everything. She told her about how Alicia was overly possessive of him, and how she touched him too much and how she called him "cuddlebunny".
She told Vicki about the record player. And the shoes. (Oh, God, the shoes.)
Vicki was sympathetic and she patted Samara on the back a bit. Then she left, taking the record player with her. "I have an ex who'll fix this up, no problem."
"But what if he won't?"
"He will. Or I'll tell his girlfriend about Miami."
"But that's black- Tell me about Miami!" Samara temproarily forgot her troubles in light of her first love, gossip.
"Sorry, but I don't like to drag people's names around in mud."
"Hmph."
"See you at work tomorrow."
"Thanks. See you."

The doorbell rang. Samara miserably got up off of the couch to answer it. She nearly threw her slipper at the guy who was standing there. "Sorry no pizza this time," he said, grinning. He stepped forward. "Hey, Sam, what's the matter?"
"You're the matter," she said angrily. She exploded into tears. He held his arms out, and against her better judgement, she let him embrace her. She sobbed for a few minutes onto his shoulder, until it became too wet to be comfortable anymore. She led him over to her couch and they sat down. "I just came over because I think I left something here when I came over the other day. But... look, Sammi, I don't want you to feel bad. I... I know you must be in pain, and I'm so sorry because it's my fault, but you have to understand that we'll both be happier this way. Look, someday maybe Alicia and I will break up, and she'll never speak to me again, but you'll still be my friend and I'll always love you. But we just can't be together." Samara was hit by an overwhelming torrent of tears. Once they subsided, she thew her shoe at him. He didn't flinch. He calmly handed her back her shoe and said, "Now I know why your house looks like you had an affair with a festishy shoe maker."
"Was there something in the news about a guy with a shoe fetish? Because I've been hearing about it all day.... well, maybe it's just a bad echo with a delayed reaction." In spite of herself, she laughed with him when he began to chuckle.
In spite of herself, she allowed herself to breathe in his scent and let it calm her, and to squeeze him and let happiness wash over her like warm ocean water. When he left, she threw her shoe at the door again, but more softly this time.