Jared & Jackson

Jared
We knocked on the door at exactly eight o’clock.

“Hi!” A short, Indian guy opened the door and stood there, smiling goofily at us.

“Hi!” Sasha said/hollered. “I’m Sasha Balas. These are my roommates.”

“Spike Vassar.” Introductions were made and Spike ushered us into the house. Despite the fact they had just moved in, there wasn’t a box to be seen. The house was already decorated. Beautiful pictures decorated the walls. Lamps were everywhere and all were lit, giving the room a warm glow. Phoebe greeted us warmly, embracing Sasha and Maxine and smiling at me and Stefano. I found myself wishing she would embrace me.

“This is Andre Basra. He did ALL the cooking for today. So if you like what you eat, you can thank him. If you keel over dead....well....sue him.” Phoebe said. “Grant! Connor! Get out here.” A blond guy strolled out from the bedroom area, dressed casually in Abercrombie clothing. This was followed with another round of introductions. Of course, Stefano had to make it awkward with his creepy, stalker-ish homosexuality. He held Connor’s hand for too long, and the poor boy had to forcibly detach his hand from Stefano. A second doorbell rang and Phoebe ran to usher Adriana, Nikki, Celeste and Felicia into the house. We just waved at them. There was another round of introductions while Phoebe disappeared. She came out a little while later holding the hand of a handsome man who was introduced as Grant Butler.

“He’s a little shy.” She said, nudging Grant with her elbow. “Grant, say hello.” He waved before sitting on the couch and staring at the floor. The doorbell rang again.

“Hi.” He mumbled.

“Good boy.”

“Can I help you in the kitchen, Andre?” Sasha offered.

“Thank you!” Andre said, gratefully. “They’re all banned from the kitchen because they each have managed to set fire to the stove. Well, Phoebe set fire to the drapes.”

“Let’s NOT discuss that.” Phoebe smiled and shook her head.

“Who on Earth...? Connor, did you invite your weird modelling friends?”

“He has MODELLING friends?” Maxine clutched my arm. “Pinch me, I’m dreaming.” I gladly complied with her request. She slapped me. Hard. “Ow. I didn’t mean it.” Phoebe opened the door and suddenly Kent shoved his way into the apartment.

“What the hell?”

“We heard there was a party at the new people’s house so we decided to crash. I’m Kent Wither by the way. Hey! Sweet cheeks!” Celeste buried her face in her hands from embarrassment. The rest of Kent’s roommates followed; Neil Hunt stepped in after briefly introducing himself. Alden Kinshasa showed more remorse about crashing the party.

“I’m terribly sorry about this. I hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine.”

“SHE SAID IT’S FINE, GUYS! COME ON IN!” Marshall Dale yelled back into the hall and the remaining residents of the floor surged out of their apartments to converge on Phoebe’s apartment. Marshall stepped into the apartment and I have never seen a man fall harder for a woman on first glance. Phoebe, however, was pissed.

“You’re the asshole who invited them all.” She said to him; the boy was stuttering for words. Chelsea Sinai pushed her way past the stunned Marshall an extended her hand to Phoebe.

“HI! I’m Chelsea.”

“I’m Phoebe.” She replied, weakly, grasping Chelsea’s hand as she eyed the mob of people that had just taken over the apartment.

Jackson
“Hey there, Jack.” Sasha said, sidling up to me. “How’s it going, good looking?” I rolled my eyes.

“Please refrain from hitting on me.”

“Have you checked out your hostess yet? I’d be surprised if you didn’t.” There was the trace of a
dare in Sasha’s voice.

“I haven’t seen our hostess.” I replied, in my most dignified tone of voice.

“Speak up! I can’t hear a thing.” Sasha complained. “You always speak so quietly.”

“And you’re always as loud as a rhinoceros letting out a mating call.”

“Nice one.”

“I wasn’t kidding.”

“Hey! JESSICA!” And Sasha was gone in a flash. I retreated further into my little corner, sipping my beer. The horrible events of the afternoon kept replaying in my head. All I did was retreat to my bedroom to attempt to write three chapters. That’s all I wanted! Three chapters in silence. Next thing I knew I was strapped to my chair and Cameron was locking my door. He gagged me using a handkerchief. I rocked back and forth quickly, trying to fall over so I could wriggle away but all the chair did was creak idiotically. I could hear Preston, Kirk and Colton yelling at the game in the next room. Cameron stroked my hair and cooed gently in my ear.

“It’s okay, Jackson. I’m going to take good care of you.” I continued to rock to get away from his hand. There was a bloodcurdling scream and Preston was blathering on about how amazing his game was. Damn fools. Cameron was puttering around the room. I had no idea what he planned to do. He could just want to stroke my hair and hold my hand; it wouldn’t be the first time. How many times had I told them I wanted him OUT? But they never listened. Always said he was harmless. But he never assaulted them, did he? They never found him stealing a pair of their underwear or creeping into their beds at night. Sons of bitches. But there was silence in the hall now. I started to rock faster hoping they would hear the creaking. I was right; they were slamming on the door and hollering.

“Let us in, Cam! Don’t do anything to Jackson!” Preston was yelling.

“Fuck this. Get Jamie. We’re going in the hard way.” Kirk said. Suddenly there was a thumping sound as something hard hit the door. Cameron looked panicked. He looked between the door and me, his pointed eyebrows twitching. There was splintering as Jamie flew threw the door and landed flat on his face. Problem was... he’d also knocked me over. Albeit that was what I’d been trying to do, Jamie had managed to land with his crotch right over my grimacing face. And at the same time, he’d also brought Cameron down with him, putting the creepy Asian’s head right between my legs. Cam started giggling and just as the rest of the guys rushed into the room, a mysterious scent perfumed the air—

“Hi.” I was jerked out of my nightmare by a gentle female voice. “I’m Phoebe Valise.”

“Jackson Hines.” I replied.

“The writer?” She said, suddenly becoming excited. I turned to look at her. I had never met a good looking woman who recognized my books.

“Yes. You know my books?”

“Know them? I own a copy of every single one and even a few collector’s editions!” I blushed. “I can’t believe they’re not bestsellers.” I laughed.

“People don’t like political thrillers anymore.” She rolled her eyes.

“Maybe if your politics involved vampires.”

“Oh God, you can’t be referring to that mental excrement known to hordes of screaming rabid 12-year-old girls as ‘Twilight’. The series thoroughly eradicated several thousands of my brain cells in the first five pages.”

“I know! To imagine a piece of trash like that actually has readers!”

“Let alone ‘fans’.”

“It’s positively ridicu—”

“Why, hello there…” The raven haired vixen, known as Maxie to all and as Devil-Child to me, sidled up next to me and put her hand on my shoulder. I saw Phoebe bristle at the unexpected interruption. “Phoebe, dear, may I have a moment with you?” It would have seemed as though the two had known each other for years, if not for the bewildered look on Phoebe’s face and the glint in Maxine’s eye.

“Oh! Uh…sure.” Maxine started towards the balcony and Phoebe followed. I looked after the curly-haired girl wistfully, regretting the sudden break in what would’ve been a wonderful conversation.