Paris - 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 door frame 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 decent.
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’s 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.
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