Somebody to Love - A Joe Mazzello FanFiction

Chapter 55 - The Fight Part 1

Two weeks later, not much changed. Joe's father's health was still slowly declining and tensions became even higher in the household. Especially with Joe. He would get irrationally angry at small things around the house. Even the smallest inconvenience became too much. One night, he accidentally dropped a glass on the kitchen floor after dinner. I was still sitting at the table with his mom when we heard it hit the floor.

"FUCK!" He screamed out. Virginia had started to get up with a displeased face, but I got up as well. Holding my hand up to her.

"I got it," I whispered. She sat back down and I walked into the kitchen. Joe was holding himself up over the sink. His hands gripping onto the edge of the counter. His knuckles were white from how hard he was holding on. His breathing was rough and heavy and his teeth were gritted. I put my hands up in defense. He had become so sensitive to every word, I knew I had to proceed with caution. "Joe?" I asked softly. I looked down at the floor. There were small pieces of glass everywhere. Neither of us were wearing shoes and he was very close to stepping on it. "Don't move. I'll be right back." I got some shoes on and came back into the kitchen. I grabbed a broom and started sweeping up the glass. Throwing it away in the garbage and cleaning up the microscopic pieces with a wet paper towel. Once it was all cleaned up, I looked back at him. "Everything's going to be okay," I whispered. Snaking my hands around his waist in a hug. I buried my head in his chest as I heard his breathing slow down. His arms coming around to hug me back as he rested his head on top of mine.

He would have moments like that. Times when he would lose control and get irrationally angry. But, all of those moments culminated in one big outburst.

We were sitting in the living room one day. Just watching TV and trying to relax and take our minds off things for a while. Then, Virginia and I start talking. About random things. Life, schooling, college. And then talk of college turned to what I liked to do for fun when I was in college.

"I liked to go to a lot of concerts," I mentioned.

"Oh, that sounds nice." She commented.

"It was. My best friend and I would travel all around the Chicago area and follow a couple of cover bands around. We started to get to know the members. Become friends with them. It was always a blast." I was reminiscing.

"Why did you stop?" she asked.

"Well, she moved to Georgia for a teaching job just after she turned 24. I was about 25. So, we just didn't see each other as much anymore. And even though I still wanted to go to the concerts, it's not the same when you go alone." I paused for a second. "You can't dance as wildly when you're by yourself. People think you're crazy." I laughed. "I loved to dance," I mentioned. I felt Joe's eyes on the back of my head. But, I didn't bother looking at him. "I haven't danced in a long time." I thought about it for a second. I turned toward Joe and grabbed his hand. I stood up and tried to pull him up with me. "Come on, Joey. Let's dance." His eyes narrowed at me. I was just trying to make him happy for a little while. "Come on." I tugged harder. "Dance with me." I was pleading like a child, but he wasn't moving. "I can just pop on some music if that's the problem." I leaned down and grabbed my phone off the couch. Searching through it for some music to play.

All of a sudden, Joe shot up from his seat. His grip on my hand tightened and he began to pull me. He walked toward the stairs. I made a surprised noise when he began to pull. I was still laughing and trying to play off my innocence. Just trying to lighten the mood. I couldn't see his face as we walked. We went up the stairs and into our bedroom. He closed the door after yanking me into the room.

"Ow," I said. Him pulling my arm had hurt slightly, and not in a good way.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked. I looked at his eyes. Fire shot across them. I didn't know what to say. I was frozen. "Huh?" he said a little louder and more forcefully. I snapped back to myself.