Falling for old James Dean over the road is never a good idea.
He’s emotionally unavailable and so fucking high, that I’m sure I could get wasted by his fucking breath alone.
My apartment is overrun by all things that smell floral, candles and damn gift baskets. It’s an extreme sensory overload.
He’s sending an insane amount of all these things. I had seen him watching me throw them over the rail and into the street and yet more turn up in their place. Sweet ass, bro, you wanna waste your rocker money buying endless amounts of this shit, then so be it.
He wrote me a love letter of sorts or love song; fuck knows what and fuck knows why. It’s surreal, this rocker who raps his way around New Zealand and is now heading off to America, so the papers say, wants to be with me. Shit he even partied with Yelawolf and got locked up for the night with him when he was here in New Zealand last time.
I’m in over my head and I need him to get bored of me and move on. I don’t want a broken heart, and have it plastered all over the front page of the Herald and on stuff.co.nz. I had a quiet life, and no one knew me. Right up till a week ago, I was just a waitress. Now, thanks to his aggressive caveman showdown, the world knows that I am indeed the owner of Club 81 and I bought out my best friend who is in rehab for meth addiction. Embarrassing for us both.
Tru,
So many people ask me what my biggest fear is or what scares me the most. And I know they expect an answer like heights, death, losing my voice and not being able to sing. But it’s not, it’s you. I am scared of you, and your ability to destroy my mind and break my heart. I’m scared of losing you before I even get the chance to love you. Your eyes bled into mine and the minute I seen you I knew I needed you. I wanted to have you close, to look in my eyes and see that’s where you lay. To have you look and see that’s where my demons hide and see if you would let me in to fight yours and you could fight mine. I lay here watching you, I’m hazed but not dazed, waiting to hear from you. Waiting and wanting you has been the sole focus of my thoughts. I envision us together. You give me reason to wake and not snort coke. I was dead inside before I meet you, your icy blue eyes and smart mouth started to lighten this cold soul. The sound of your voice is my favourite sound it lulls the crazed part of my mind. So, babe choose me over fear. Choose us over fear. Fall, I will catch you. Let go and I will be there, for you saved me and you don’t even know it.
Xo
Jayden
That my friends is the love letter. Boy has skills, but he’s just that, a boy. It’s just words and after all actions speak louder than any words ever could. Sending me a shit ton of crap and throwing money around is not the actions I’m talking about.
He has become my top stalker like I am the famous one here. His stalking me has the tables turned and it’s me being stalked by the famous man. It’s freaking me out coz all this attention has made my heart jerk and I’m fucking hoping that it’s an arrhythmia and not me catching them damn feels.
Night falls and I watch him sit there on his deck watching me.
The ember of my smoke matching the ember of his smoke. Ours eyes locking in the dark. My irises clear and bright, his diluted and hazy.
I watch him down drink after drink as I sip on my coffee, the steam rising to meet the cool air.
He kicks his feet up on the table in front of him.
“When I look at you the whole world fades, babe. It’s you I see. You I want to be with.”
Hahaha, I laugh out into the inky black night with just the glow from my Christmas lights lighting up the small space around me and the streetlamps below are a dull hum in the bottom of my vision. He has one light on in his place also and that’s the bedside lamp. It’s always on even when he’s gangster napping. I call it that coz I have never seen him go to bed at a normal time nor have I seen him sleep for more than 4 hours.
“Well ain’t you just the Casanova.” I scoff out at him. His words stir a fire in me, I hate to admit it, but I do like it, I can’t lie. It’s getting hard to deny it when he’s like being all sweet and sexy. Why can’t he just be the dick he is in the papers, the rapper man-whore and like live up to the story they paint. Not this Jayden, the sweet Jayden who whispers out sweet nothings to me in the dark and sends me thousands of dollars of flowers and shit.
“Tru, like no fucking joke, did you read my letter?”
Closing my eyes, the pain in his voice hurts.
“Yes. Yes, I read it.”
“Annnnnnd,” he draws the and out, a smile kicks up at the corner of my lips.
“I wish I could love you with somebody else’s heart, James Dean.”
Leaning back in the chair I light a fresh smoke. This has just turned serious.
“Why?” I watch him down his glass and pour another, downing that. Then pouring yet another. I’m smoking to help with the stress of this convo and he’s drinking. Great mix, ain’t we.
“Because you have the ability to destroy me, Jayden, and them.” Waving my hands in front of me the ember tip cutting through the dark.
“Them who?” I hear the confusion in his tone, sensing the sadness on his features.
“Your fans, the groupies and the media.”
“No, babe, not at all. I will shield you and keep you safe. You can be just mine.” His voice picks up a notch. I’m unsure if it’s unease, panic laced fear or excitement that he could be winning me over to his side of life. But I won’t live in the dark. I won’t be a secret and I won’t change who I am to sleep with New Zealand’s rock royalty.
