Get Your Guns | Vol. 1 | Jamie Bower Fanfiction

3 | Tickets

Jamie C. Bower

As she stormed around the corner, I once more was left thunderstruck! What the fuck was wrong with this girl! She storms off just after sucker punching me! That weren't bloody normal! I tried to stand up, still holding the tissue to my bloody nose. My legs were wobbling and I felt my blood rush to my feet so fast it made my head spin. I almost tumbled over, but I for some reason beyond me, I managed to stay on my feet. Slowly I started wobbling in the direction of my flat - or okay, I don't know if I was wobbling anywhere, my sense of time, place and direction was totally crap now. I pulled out my phone calling Tristan. Instantly he picked up.

"Tristan here," he said.

"Tristan, can you... ehm..." I had suddenly forgotten what I had wanted to ask him.

"Caaan I what, Jamie?" he tried to help me, thankfully recognizing my voice with an introduction.

"Sorry, I'm just a bit out of it. Just got sucker punched by this chick." I said without think, sometimes I could really be a bloody idiot. I would never hear the end of this. My voice was slurred, but Tristan heard me just fine.

"YOU WAAT?!" he bellowed, suddenly I remembered, what I wanted to ask him.

"Mate, can you come pick me up? I'm somewhere on the sidewalk by the bar we played at earlier." Tristan didn't let it go, now I could hear someone in the background laughing. It was probably the rest of them. Suddenly I head Roland scream through the phone.

"Can't defend yourself against a little girl, ha Jamie?"

"I can so! She just played dirty!" This caused a cascade of laugher.... Great....

"Can one of you come pick me up? I can't see straight?" Finally after 5 minutes of humiliation Tristan at last agreed to come get me. It was embarrassing enough asking to get picked up, but I wasn't sure I even would be able to find the pub again - let alone the tube or home. After some time Tristan pulled up in his blue Toyota. I got in and rested my head against the head rest.

"Oh shit, you weren't kidding!" He was staring at me or more specifically at my nose "You're gonna get a huge bruise. Did a girl do that to you?!" I nodded my head, but stopped immediately. It was spinning too much to even think. And, I was hungry. Very damn hungry.

"Please drive through a fast food place. I'm starved", Tristan just shook his head at my pathetic condition. 15 minutes later I was greedily devouring a bigmac, fries and a coke. Heaven!

"Argh Jamie!" Tristan exclaimed as I showed him my chewed up food, grinning all over. Sometimes he was such a girl. By now I felt a lot better. Or at least my head had stopped spinning. I wasn't even mad at the girl for punching me, I was simply too stunned by the fact that she had done so, to even feel anything else, but disbelieve. There must be something wrong with her!

Soon after having finished eating Tristan started up the car engine and drove us home to my flat.

We hiked up the stairs to my floor and I reached for the handle, pushing it to open the door. I smashed directly into it whit a loud thumb, as I had forgot that it was locked. Dizziness once more flooded my head and I saw stars.

"Fuck", I hissed under my breath. I tried digging my heads into my skinny jeans which was a challenge in itself. Behind me, I heard Tristan sigh and seconds after he reached his hand forward plunging his own key in the lock, mumbling "you're pathetic", at me.

"Yes I know! Now shut the fuck up", I mumbled internally at him. Though he was quite right, I was utterly pathetic.

Yet again Mathilda crossed my mind and I winced inwardly. The pain was coming back slowly as I was getting sober, which happened pretty fast when you got punched in the face. Or at least it did for me. God, she had dumped me! Mathilda had dumped me. I was stumbling between angry and hurt at a hundred miles an hour. Wanting to scream and cry at the same time, but in the end just sitting stoned not knowing what to do or feel. It felt like this every time girls broke up with me. It had felt like this after all of them - Zoe, Bonnie, Lily and Mathilda. Though to this date, Mathilda was the one who had disappointed and hurt me the most. I had always known Mathilda was a little push rich man girl, but at the time that hadn't stopped me from falling from her, I knew that there was more to her then that, but to be honest right now, I didn't care.

We walked in and I slammed my arse on my brown leather couch sighing in relieve. Home, sweet home.

Soon after having gotten in the door Tristan trooped in with a beer in one hand and tea in the other. Guess which one was for me... Correct. He handed me the bloody tea saying, "you better sober up." I let out a huff and took a sip. It was earl grey, of course. Tristan sat down next to me turning on the TV. "Teen Moms" was on. We sat watching in silence. He didn't ask me about Mathilda or pestered me for information about the girl who got the better of me. Nothing. I he just sat in silence with me, essentially just keeping me company. It was nice.

Soon I could feel just how bad by face hurt - mostly my nose region - and Tristan got up to get me a bag of frozen pies. The night went on like this, him drinking some blasted beers, me drinking bloody damn tea. But I had to admit, it made feel incredibly British.

Suddenly Tristan exclaimed "Ow god I almost forgot!" It was about 01.00 A.M, so we were both pretty drowsy. He pulled two pieces of paper out of his pocket, "my sister, you know Maggie? She is in this small play. It's that place you acted at too and she got me tickets," he stopped as if to pull himself together, "but seeing as I don't have a date... I thought you could go with?" he asked plopping the ticket on the table.

I wasn't surprised that Tristan couldn't get a date. Okay, that was phrased wrong - he was very shy around women. Barely now he was just starting to get used to all the fans, and at times they still freaked him out a bit. It wasn't that he couldn't get a date. He simply was too scared to ask anyone.

"Sure mate, when is it?" I asked taking a gulp of my tea and wondering if I needed to clear my schedule. I always liked going to see plays. The way one acted on a stage was very different to how you acted on a set. I wouldn't say it was easier on a film set. Of course you could always do another take, but on a stage you had to learn and do everything to perfection from the start. One hic up could change the whole outcome of the play. In some way I had to admit, yes stage acting was challenging in its own way. But making movies - most of the time - made just a little more money and I found them much more interesting.

"It's tomorrow night," he answered.

"I'll be there", I said, and we bumped our knuckles together.

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