Ok! This is a new and much improved chapter 2. I thought the old one sucked.
Sometimes, you wonder about George. Actually, you wonder about her all the fucking time.
You wonder why you said you loved her.
You wonder why you kissed her.
And you wonder why you want to kiss her again.
‘Cause, you don’t really love her like that, do you?
You're all about sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll.
Especially rock 'n roll.
You lived fast, died young and left that not-so-beautiful corpse. You know that.
You also know she's just the opposite.
Except about dying young. She died...too young. And her corpse wasn't all that pretty either. In all those bits and pieces. All over the pavement...And stop.
She keeps a suck-ass job just so she doesn't have to steal from the dead. She claims to think it's "tacky" or at least that's what you remember, but you know she can't bring herself to do it.
To her, it’s no victimless crime. She’s dead too. And has empathy thing.
And it all makes you wonder why she cares so much.
And why you care so much that she cares so much.
And now you head is spinning.
She's always says that she doesn't give a flying fuck but, you know her better.
Everyone thinks 'cause you're Mason, you don't notice things. You do.
You noticed if she really didn't care, she wouldn't have tried to save her reaps. She wouldn't keep visiting her life. Her family. She wouldn't take care of you.
Your always in bloody awe of how much she cares about you. If it weren't for her, you'd be out on the street. A fucking homeless person. At least you already look like one.
Why did you kiss her?
Was it because you were fucking stupid enough to believe that it was your last day on earth? Your only chance to show that, underneath it all, you care for her too?
Is that why you said you loved her? Last day?
Or was it something else. Like the way she looked when you told her not to let go. Of anything.
The way your dead-but-beating-heart nearly dropped right out of your chest at the thought of never seeing her do all things George again? Or just seeing or hearing or smelling her?
The way she was staring into your eyes? So innocent. Yet...not.
'Cause she's seen death. No. Is death.
A part of you waited for her to say something.
A part of you waited for her to say she loved you back.
A part of you waited for anything as you wobbled out of Happytime wearing that stupid cowboy hat.
And your head is still spinning. Just like you left her spinning in her chair.
And you're still wondering why you fucking care so much.
"It's just George." you tell yourself. Kind of like you're "Just Mason."
And it's all very strange because.....caring is creepy.
Mason sat in George's car waiting for her to start it up.
"OK" Said abnormally happy George as she pulled the keys from her bag. "Let's roll." She rolled the R on her tongue and Mason watched her as they pulled out of the tiny parking lot then shifted his gaze to the car.
Mason ran his hand along the convertible’s red door. George observe secretly out of the corner of her eye and a tiny smile formed on her lips.
"Can borrow you car sometime?" Mason wiggled his eyebrows a bit getting her full attention. "You know, take it for a "spin"?" Mason reached for her steering wheel. George's expression quickly changed to an angry one as she slapped his hand away.
"Ow! That fucking hurt, you know!" He rubbed his hand and his eyebrows came together in a frown as he faced the front. She just faced him with mock sympathy playing on her features.
"Besides, knowing you, which I do," She stated while poking his shoulder, "You’d take it for some joy ride."
"Would not! I have the highest respect for you and your property." He tried his best to look convincing.
"Right." Came her skeptical reply.
"And for the record," He began while still nursing his hand, "You’ve got a good arm for a girl." That earned another slap, followed by another ow and a few more swears.
And for a while all you could hear were the sounds of Seattle morning traffic.
"Daisy was acting...strange today." George rolled her eyes at the sound of the fallen starlets name as Mason broke the silence.
"Daisy’s always acting." George uttered sarcastically, dismissing his concern.
"No, it was like this.....extra super strange!" He continued adding an odd hand gesture that George guessed meant "extra super strange".
"Why? What’d she say? "
"She said: "I know"." George looked at him with confused, frowning eyes.
"How the bloody hell should I know?" Mason glared back. "I’m not a fucking mind reader!" George made a face which Mason quickly mimicked.
"Ok, here’s your stop. Now out of my car!" She pushed him into the door after she pulled over.
"Common Georgie-girl! Don’t be like that." Mason pouted. "I was only kidding." All he earned from his puppy dog eyes was a standard "whatever".
Puppy dog eyes never worked on George. He thought of the unfairness of it all.
"Shit! I've only got ten minutes." he said mostly to himself before crumpling his post-it and stuffing it into his pocket. "Thanks for the lift." He leaned in, giving her a quick peck on the cheek and was out the car in search of R. B. Ridge before he had time to see her face or her rare blush.
She drove away, half confused, half dazed? With a hand placed on her still red cheek.
The exact spot where he kissed her.