Chapter Seven

 

One week later…

 

                JC bounded up the stairs to Annie’s flat, whistling tunelessly.  He’d received a message at the hotel that she’d been let out of work early and they should meet at her place around 1:00.  With him, JC carried a large bouquet of wildflowers and a gold bracelet he’d bought for her in

Ireland.  He paused on his way up to study it some more.  Looking at it, he sighed; he was so pleased with it.  It had both their names entwined within two hearts.   JC truly hoped that she’d love it as much as he did.  Although they were still young, he wanted to give her something that would reflect his love for her and hers for him.

                JC practically skipped the rest of the way to Annie’s door and knocked on it.  No answer, so he knocked again.  Still no answer, but he could hear Rosemarie meowing on the other side.  ‘That’s a little strange’, he thought.   ‘Oh well, maybe she got held up at work or something.’  He had just settled on the floor to wait for her when he heard something strange.  Actually, the sound itself wasn’t that odd, it was just someone softly whispering his name.  The fact that it seemed to be coming from nowhere was what was disturbing him.

                Glancing up (he’d been studying the bracelet again), JC was slightly surprised to see that Babette’s door was slightly open.  Whoever was calling his name, they were inside her flat.  He left the flowers by Annie’s door, but put the bracelet in his pocket as he stood and slowly started

towards the voice.  "Babette?" he called softly as he opened the door a little wider.  "Are you in here?"Hearing no answer, JC ventured another step inside.  That was about the time something smashed into the back of his head.  Crashing to the floor, JC tried to focus on something, but everything was so dark inside the flat.  So dark…The last thing he remembered hearing was a door slam shut before the world fell in on itself.

 

One hour later…

 

Annie raced up the stairs to her flat, unknowingly following the exact same course JC had taken previously.  She did know that she was expecting him to be there any moment and couldn’t wait to see him.  She’d practically run the whole way home, she was so excited.  It was going to be the last time they’d get to see each other for who knew how long and she wanted to squeeze every

minute of cuddle time in that she could manage.  In her purse was a small picture in a silver frame.  The picture itself was actually a little portrait of JC she had painted just the other day. 

Done in a realistic style, Annie felt it was her best effort and really reflected JC’s personality.  She was planning to give it to him as a little going away present and hoped he liked it as much as she did.  As she started down the hallway, Annie suddenly realized that something didn’t quite feel right.  It was strange, but she couldn’t seem to put her finger on it.  She was reaching into her purse for her apartment key when she suddenly tripped over something.  Her bag and its contents fell to the floor, since luck would have it that way.  As she bent down to retrieve

her things, Annie caught a look at what she’d tripped over.  It was JC’s jacket.  She picked it up, feeling a little panicked.  Allowing her eyes to trace over the floor, she saw first one shoe, then another leading to Babette’s door.  "Oh my God," she muttered under her breath, starting for the door as her purse and the dropped contents were forgotten.  She burst into the apartment, only to be greeted by a continuing parade of JC’s clothes leading to what could only be the bedroom.

Annie raced to the door and literally kicked it open, her voice high-pitched and hoarse as she alternately screamed JC and Babette’s names.  In the bedroom, Babette lay on the bed smoking one of her trademark clove cigarettes.  She was completely naked, save for JC’s shirt which she had on, draped casually open in front.  Resting on her stomach was a bouquet of wildflowers; the petals of some spread helter-skelter about the bed and even a few in her hair.  Next to her under the covers was JC.  He was covered by a sheet, but it was fairly obvious that he was naked as well.

"Shhh," Babette whispered, blowing a thin stream of smoke out between her teeth as she hissed the word.  "You’ll wake him.  After all, he’s had such a strenuous afternoon."  She reached over and patted JC on the head gently, then gave Annie a truly poisonous look.  "He’s quite an animal.  You don’t know what you’ve been missing."

 

"Babette, I don’t believe this."  Annie somehow managed to remain standing, clinging to the doorframe for support.  " I don’t believe this at all.  Why…" She had to pause, trying to swallow past the lump that had taken up residence in her throat.  "Why in heaven’s name would he do this?!"

 

Babette’s face suddenly lit up.  "Oh, how rude of me.  Would you like to see the pictures?"  She threw a wad of Polaroid’s at Annie.  They bounced off her chest and landed in a jumbled heap on the floor, face down.

 

Annie slowly bent down to the floor to retrieve the photos, but paused just short of them.  Maybe…maybe there was still hope.  Just maybe there was a perfectly rational explanation for JC being naked with Babette in her bedroom, in her bed, that didn’t mean he’d betrayed her love.  If she picked up those pictures, if she looked at them…it would shatter everything she presently knew to be true.  And where would that leave her when it was over?

Angry, hurt, alone…wouldn’t it be better to just not look at them? It might…but what kind of life would she be living if she just turned her back on something like this?  Taking one last deep breath, Annie picked up the photographs and turned them over.  Her breath turned into a cry that sounded eerily akin to a wounded rabbit.  ‘This was a mistake,’ her mind screamed at her.  ‘Just throw them down and get out of there!’  But like a siren, Annie found herself drawn to look at the next one.  It only served to make things worse.

Every single one was a picture of JC and Babette having mad sex in ways that would make even the porn industry jealous.  As she flashed by each one, Annie felt a truly black emotion welling up inside.  She was torn between wanting to throw something, choke Babette, kick JC straight in the crotch or just curl up in a corner and hide from the world.  Her heart felt like someone had ripped it out with a spoon covered in salt, while her stomach churned as if someone else had used it as a punching bag for a few hours.

After a few more pain-racked emotions that all seemed to involve a very large group of rather heartless people doing generally unpleasant things to her, Annie managed to pry her hand open long enough to drop the pictures. 

With a final, scared little whimper, she retreated back to her flat.  She struggled to open the door, then remembered that she’d never unlocked it.  Annie started tearing through the spilled contents of her purse on the floor, tears blurring her vision while she desperately searched for a way to escape all that she’d just seen.  Finally, the key slid into her hand.  She jammed it into the lock, nearly breaking it as she wrenched the door open and stumbled inside. 

Rosemarie, who had been listening curiously to the commotion out in the hall, gave out a startled hiss and ran full speed into the bedroom, where she dove under the bed.

Annie didn’t notice.  She had gone straight to the bathroom and proceeded to be violently ill.  After flushing the offensive contents of the toilet away, she stood over the sink splashing water into her face.  As she stared at her haggard and frightened expression in the mirror, she felt a jumble of emotions jaunting for supremacy in her mind.  Annie knew she couldn’t possibly remain in her flat, so close to where…she just couldn’t stay.  But where could she go?  Who could possibly understand what she was going through right now?  It suddenly dawned on her.  "Claude," Annie sobbed, straightening up.  "He’ll know what to do."  She turned off the light and began walking down the hallway.  But as she passed by the room she used as a studio, something seemed to possess her.  Annie stalked into the room, staring at all the pictures she’d painted of JC.  Each one filled her with more and more anger, until she couldn’t take it anymore.  Crying and screaming with rage, Annie tore every single painting to pieces, even going so far as to throw the now empty easel against the wall.

Running out of the apartment, she stopped only long enough to shove her purse and all its contents inside the door.  She then slammed it shut, forgetting to lock it and not even bothering to check if it had even closed completely.  Because of the rush in which she left, only the picture she had been carrying in her purse had escaped her rampage of sorrow.  The one that

she’d meant as a present for him.

Babette, hearing the warpath that Annie had subjected her own home to, began laughing maniacally when she heard the door slam.  However, she stopped suddenly when she saw that JC was beginning to stir.  She kissed him in a sad parody of maternal love, then got up and moved into a chair next to the bed.  All the while, she continued smoking and playing with the bracelet she’d found in JC’s pocket.

JC woke up slowly, reluctantly.  For some reason, his mind was having trouble telling him where he was and why, while his head felt as if a thousand angry little squirrels had tried stuffing coconuts in through his eyes.  In other words, a VERY bad headache.  Apparently, one of the squirrels had succeeded, for there was a huge knot on the back of his head that seemed to throb spitefully whenever he touched it.  JC opened his eyes to see if that might help jump-start his brain into reminding him what was going on, but he didn’t recognize the room, mostly due to the fact that his eyes seemed to be trying to turn around in their sockets to see if indeed it was a coconut and maybe not just a walnut stuffed inside his head by those evil squirrels.  Basically, nothing was focusing.

He realized that he felt strangely chilled and a fabric unlike any of the clothes he wore was lying against his skin.  Pushing that disconcerting thought aside, JC noticed that his eyes seemed to be focusing, so he took another glance about the room.

The walls of the room were a purple so dark it seemed black, which went well with the ceiling and carpet which were black.  There was a eclectic collection of rock posters hung on the walls.  At least, he assumed they were rock…all the titles were in French.  Against one wall was something that looked like a…dresser?…with lots of little skull and skeleton decorations.  JC saw that some of them were incense burners and realized that the room’s only light was coming from dozens of candles, all of them lit.

It gradually became clear to JC that he was lying in a bed.  It appeared to be just a simple double bed with a headboard of some type of dark wood.  He noticed several necklaces hanging from the bedposts, one of them looking eerily familiar…  It was then that he realized the strange fabric against his skin was in fact the black satin sheets of the bed.  This led him to the unpleasant fact that he was completely naked!  He suddenly felt something blow against his skin, and he looked quickly to see what it was.

It was a blossom from the bouquet of wildflowers he’d bought for Annie.  But how had they gotten in here?  For that matter, how had he gotten in here, wherever here was.

Someone giggled in amusement nearby and JC spun to see where the sound had come from.  To his further surprise, he saw Babette lounging in a chair next to the bed.  She was completely naked, save for his shirt which she wore draped open casually in front and the bracelet he’d gotten for Annie on her left wrist.  The majority of the flowers were resting in her arms, and even as he stared, she giggled again and blew another towards him.  "Mon ami,

you’re finally awake," Babette purred, tilting her head at him seductively.  "I want to thank you; you are, without a doubt, the best lover I’ve ever had."

JC gave her a look like one would give to an oncoming train.  "I…I don’t remember a thing."

She gave him a pouty look as she dropped the flowers.  "Oh Cheri, did I mean that little to you?"

"Honestly, I don’t remember."  He gave her a slightly disgusted look.  "And no offense, but I can’t imagine that I would ever sleep with someone like you."

Babette curled up sideways on her chair, playing with a lock of her hair as she took another puff of her cigarette.  "But you did ‘sleep’ with me," she insisted, giving him a playful wink.

JC was starting to get angry.  "Enough of this.  Where are the rest of my clothes?  I have to get to Annie."

"Oh, she was here."

He froze at her words.  "She was?"

Babette nodded.  "Absolutely.  And when that slow little head of hers finally realized that you really cared for me instead of her, she ran out of here."  Another breath of smoke.  "It’s really a shame you slept through it…it was quite a lot of fun to watch."

"Annie was here?!"  JC felt pure terror run through his veins like liquid ice.  "I have to find her and explain.  That is…if she’ll believe me."  He put a hand to the bump on his head.  "Dammit, if I could just remember."  He glared at her then, almost hating her.  "Give me my shirt back," he growled darkly.

"Okay, okay."  Babette sighed and slowly removed his shirt, sniffing it once before tossing it to him.  "Here."  She then stuck her tongue out at him.  "Whiner."

JC snatched the shirt out of the air and hastily put it on, then leapt out of the bed towards the door.  To his surprise, he realized the carpet had literally been painted black; it crunched under his feet as he ran across to the door.  He quickly gathered the rest of his clothes from various parts of the apartment, sliding into them as he rushed to Annie’s door.  He was instantly alarmed to see that the door was slightly ajar.  Pushing it open a little further, he grew even more anxious to see her purse and its contents scattered over the floor near the entry.

"Annie?"  JC called softly, desperately hoping to hear her answer.  "Annie?"   He entered the flat, closing the door softly behind him.  "Please, please answer me.  Annie?"

He cautiously made his way back to her bedroom, but no one was there.  Under the bed, though, he saw Rosemarie and moved toward her.  "Hey," JC called softly, not wanting to scare her.  "You okay?"  The cat’s tail was huge, all puffed up and flicking back and forth wildly.  As he reached for her, she hissed and took a swipe at his outstretched hand.  JC pulled it back, but not before she managed to score a tiny scratch on the back of his hand.  "Ow!"

Rosemarie took advantage of JC’s temporary disorientation and darted out from under the bed, making a bee-line for the studio.  JC jumped up and chased after her, not wanting the cat to accidentally knock over one of Annie’s paintings.

Arriving in the studio, however, JC saw that the destruction of Annie’s work by the cat was a definite impossibility.  He could feel her anger, saw the intensity of her hatred in every slice, every broken frame of the pictures.  Even her easel had not escaped her wrath; it lay broken in one corner, looking like it’d been thrown against a wall.

Rosemarie had retreated under a space created by several of the larger paintings leaning against one another.  JC wisely decided not to try and comfort the cat again.  Besides, he had to find Annie.  "Where could she have gone?" he muttered to himself under his breath, staring at the

destruction around him.  Then it struck him.  "Claude!" he exclaimed, snapping his fingers.  "Of course!  He’s like her father over here in Paris.   Annie’d be sure to go to him if she didn’t know where else to turn."

JC raced out of the apartment, but did have the presence of mind to shut the door and make sure Rosemarie didn’t escape.  As he flew down the hall, he hardly noticed Babette.  She was clad in an old, dirty robe barely closed in front to be considered descent.  As she was picking up the photos Annie had dropped on her way to destroy the studio, Babette’s mouth turned up in a sly little grin that slowly spread into a full smile.

"Well, that was fun," she sang to herself, almost bouncing with child-like joy as she closed the door to her flat.

 

JC made it to Claude’s in time that would challenge the world’s land speed record, had anyone with a stopwatch and official authorization bothered to be present and watching.  He burst into the door of the shop and was instantly greeted by a fuming Claude.

 

"Is…is Annie here?"  JC was doubled over panting, hands resting on his knees.  "Please…I have to…speak…with her."

 

Claude glared at him darkly over the counter, clenching his cane in his fist.  "How dare you come here, after what you’ve done.  Such audacity…" 

 

His gaze became harder.  "I had such faith in you.  How could you betray her like that?"

 

"But I didn’t!  I don’t remember…everything is a blur."  He straightened up, putting both hands on the counter.  "Please, can I talk to Annie?"  His eyes pleaded with Claude, hoping to find some well of sympathy.  "I need to explain.  Please…"

 

Claude seemed to soften just the slightest bit.  "How are you going to explain things to her if you yourself can’t remember?"

 

"I…I’m not sure.  But I do know that I need to see her."

 

Claude’s face turned hard again.  "You can’t."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because…"  He paused for the barest space of a second.  "She’s not here right now."

 

JC was becoming more desperate.  "Do you know where I can find her?"

 

"No I don’t.  But I seriously think you should leave right now."  Claude made as if to turn away.  "The very sight of you disgusts me."

 

"Please!"  JC began to reach over the counter for Claude’s arm.  "Please help me!"

 

The old man froze as JC’s hand brushed his arm.  "Joshua," he began, his voice dark and low as a foreboding thunderstorm, "if you know what is good for you, you will leave now."  Claude turned his head back towards him just enough so JC caught the almost dangerous glare in his eyes.  "Don’t make me do something that we both shall regret."

 

JC pulled back, full of despair.  "All right, I’ll go.  But please…if you see Annie, tell her there’s been a HUGE misunderstanding.  And tell her I’m sorry…"  Tears were beginning to well up in his eyes.  "I love her."

 

Claude turned away.  "You have an odd way of showing that love."  He waved his hand as if dismissing a fly.  "Now get out of my shop…and never come back."

 

JC left reluctantly, looking back over his shoulder at the shop one last time before he started down the street.  As soon as he was out of sight, Claude went into the back towards his bedroom.

Annie was still lying on his bed, her face buried in his pillow as she sobbed uncontrollably. When he sat next to her, she threw herself into his arms.  "How…?" she asked him through her tears.  "Claude, how could he do this to me?  Just last week…we had vowed to wait.  Then he has…SEX…with Babette."  Annie spit out the Goth’s name in disgust.  "Babette, of all people.  Crazy…dirty…loony Babette.  It makes me sick just thinking about it."

 

Claude rubbed her back consolingly.  "Are you sure?"

 

"I saw the pictures!"  Claude felt more of her tears soaking into his shirt.

 

"They were…disgusting.  She said…he was an animal…They certainly showed that."

 

He tried to get her to face him.  "Annie, he says he doesn’t remember."

 

Annie forcefully kept her head down.  "He’s lying.  How could someone possibly forget something like that?!"  She abruptly sighed, like her strength had all at once abandoned her.  "Claude, I don’t want to talk about this anymore."  She laid back down on the bed and curled into a fetal position.  ‘If it’s okay with you, I’d like to just sleep for a while."

 

Claude nodded, getting up and covering her gently with a blanket.  "Sleep, Annie.  We can figure this all out when you’re ready."  After closing the door, he walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table where Jacques was writing a paper for one of his classes.  ("Something’s just not right about this,") the former mused in French, stroking his chin meditatively.  ("Annie is so sure that Joshua had betrayed her, but he’s just as adamant that he didn’t.")

 

Jacques looked up from his work.  ("Maybe so, but Annie says she saw pictures of it.")

("I know…")  Claude sighed.  ("That’s what troubles me.  I’ll have to give this some serious thought.")

 

JC blindly wandered the streets of Paris for hours in a daze before finally stumbling back to the hotel where he and the guys were staying.  As he passed by the front desk, the clerk waved him down and handed him a letter.  The writing on the front, while messy, was quite obviously Annie’s.  He ran to his room, hardly closing the door behind him as he ripped open the envelope.

 

Joshua,

There are no sufficient words in any language to adequately express the emotions that I am feeling right now.  I can’t believe you would do something like this to me.  You told me you loved me, that I was your world.

Well, obviously you need a far more sexual one than originally planned.  So much for that "special gift" you were planning to give.  That’s shot to hell now, isn’t it?!Josh, I never want to see you again.  I thought about placing an ancient Irish curse on you, but that would be nonsense.  Besides, I don’t want to hurt the other guys…only you!Have a "wonderful" life with "great" success.  I hope you get everything you deserve and more.  If I think of it, I’ll have the photos enlarged and sent to you at my own expense.  Better yet, I could have Babette autograph them for you.  Just thank your lucky stars that I am not a vengeful person or you’d see them plastered on the front page of every newspaper I could get them to in time for tomorrow issue.

Goodbye forever.

 

Signed,

Annie

 

JC lost it.  For what would be the first and only time, he completely destroyed his hotel room.  When Johnny and Lance came to get him in the morning, the former quietly paid double for the damages and kept it out of the papers.

 

JC didn’t say more than 2 words the rest of the trip.  He simply sat in his seat, staring straight ahead with Annie’s letter wadded up in his hand.  Lance was concerned, but realized that right then wasn’t the time to ask what had happened.  He’d wait patiently until JC was ready to open up and tell him willingly.

 

It would be a long time before he was.

 

< Paris >