The Irony of Your Perfection (An Asking Alexandria Fan Fiction)

Chapter Eight

It’s been the same story for God knows how long.

Parties, parties and more parties.

Sometimes I remember what happens at them, and then I can’t look at Danny for a while.

And he pretends not to remember but I think he does.

I sit down on the couch and rip open a box of cookies. I nibble on one and then give up and stuff it into my mouth. I’m still hungover from last night’s party and I don’t really want to see Danny right now, if you know what I mean.

I don’t know how to feel about our… relationship. I like Danny. I really like him, but there are no signs that the feeling is reciprocated, except for the fact that I think he fucks me more often than he fucks anyone else he knows. Maybe I’d be more okay with this if I could ever actually remember anything that happens.

Suddenly the doorbell rings. I stand up and peer out the window, but I can’t see who it is. I walk over to the door and pull it open.

Danny is on the step, dressed in his customary ripped black skinny jeans and a Killbrand t-shirt. As usual he walks in without saying anything and sits down on the couch. I sit down beside him

I'm expecting some sort of small talk, but I get nothing of the sort.

“We leave the day after tomorrow,” says Danny, glancing up at me through his dark fringe.

For a few seconds I stare at Danny, not knowing what to say. I swallow the lump in my throat.

“Where are you going?” I ask, but I kind of know the answer to my own question.

“America,” says Danny.

“Oh,” I say.

There’s a tense silence.

Danny reaches over and takes my hand. My pulse quickens. He’s never done that before.

Well, not that I can remember…

“You’re coming too,” he says.

And then there’s déjà vu and it’s Joe asking me to go on tour with him and I don’t know what to say, because what’s to stop the five of them from taking off on me just like he did?

“Why?” I ask, angry now. “So that you won’t have to go to the trouble of finding a slut when you want one? So that we can get fucking drunk again and again and pretend we don’t remember what happened between us the night before?”

Danny reaches up and runs his thumb lightly along my cheekbone.

“No, because I love you,” he says.

I close my eyes, and my heart breaks.