Sweet Pandemonium

Chapter One - Intrusions


There was someone in my room. I had been sound asleep until the faint click of the heavy hotel door closing brought me out of my sound slumber. It was the first good sleep I'd gotten in days, and when I glanced over at the digital clock on the nightstand and saw bright, neon lights that shone it was now nearing two AM, I was quite pissed, to say the very least.

A tired rage had taken over my body, and I flipped over suddenly to see who had intruded. Everything was so blurry I could hardly make out my hand in front of me. Reaching blindly into the dark, my fingers found the end table, and then my glasses.

I was thankful that I had forgotten to close the curtains of the hotel's huge window, and the bright lights of Tokyo that shone below allowed me to make out the outline of most things in the room.

The thought hadn't even occurred to me yet that I was in a foreign country, and had forgotten to put the deadlock on the door. When it finally did I called out, “whose there!?” frantically, and waited only a couple of seconds before my fingers flew towards the lamp sitting on the end table.

“Ouch, fuck!” I heard, and then a loud bang. My heart jumped, but the voice was familiar. The thumping in my chest began to slow. “Sorry, sorry,” The voice said, finally. “Don't be scared Angel, it's just me.”

The long, lean shape of a man made it's way out from the depths of the shadows, and I could see Johnny's outline in the light supplied from the window.

“Jesus Christ, you scared me!” I said, putting my hand over my heart and laughing a bit, for it was all I could think to do at the moment that wasn't crying with exasperated relief.

My hand reached once more for the lamp and I turned it on; light quickly flooding the room. Johnny used his muscled, tattoo ridden forearm to shield his eyes from its intensity. “Fuck, that's bright.” He grumbled, taking a seat on the edge of the bed across from mine, and putting his face into his palms.

He looked absolutely miserable. I took the hint and jumped out of bed, the fact that I was simply wearing a skimpy nightgown and boy shorts slipped my mind completely.
“Here,” I said, grabbing a multicolored scarf out of my luggage and draping it over the lamp shade. “I hope this helps.”

He looked so tired and worn in the dimmed light. Gently, I ran my fingers through the thick dark brown hair atop his head. “Are you okay?”
Johnny quickly took his face out of his hands and looked up at me with a cocked head. His big brown eyes met mine, and then quickly traveled down my body.

“I'm perfect,”He smiled up at me nervously, and then his eyes darted to the light. The scarf had given the room a dank, multicolored, tie die look. “Why do you ask?”

“You don't look so good. Is there anything I can do for you?” After all, I had kind of volunteered myself as a personal assistant to him and the rest of the guys in the past couple of weeks that I'd known them. “If theres anything you need, I'd be more than happy to get it for you.”

“No, no, I wouldn't want to trouble you,” There was that bright smile again, white and almost boyish; he looked so innocent. I couldn't help but smile back – there was something so beautiful about that smirk. “What you did with that light was more than enough.”

I threw myself back onto my bed, lying on my stomach and hugging my pillow. “Anything for you, Mr. Knoxville.” I smiled a big stupid grin for him with closed eyes, hoping that he'd get the hint and would let me go back to sleep.

“Will you please stop with this 'Mr. Knoxville' shit? How many times have I told you – call me Johnny.” He almost begged.
“But you're older than me,” I told him. “I treat my elders with respect.”

“Elders.” He forced a laugh, burying his face back into his palms. “You act like I'm fucking ninety.”
“I never said you were old,” I emphasized the word. “but you're older than me.”

Johnny sat for a second, staring at me with his chin propped up on his hand. I could feel searing eyes boring into my body, and it made me somewhat uncomfortable. The atmosphere quickly began to slip from the professional uphold I'd been so desperately trying to maintain while in his presence.

Opening my eyes, I flipped onto my side and looked back at him, thinking frantically of something we could talk about.

“How old are you anyways?” Johnny asked me with squinted, inquisitive eyes.
“Twenty,” I stated. “Right out of a two year college.”
“Jesus.” He sighed, looking down as if upset about something. “I'm almost forty you know.”
“I know.” I replied, using my finger to trace one of the flowers on the hideous blanket that covered my bed.

There was a silence for a second, but it wasn't awkward. It was just – silent. I didn't know what to say to him, and I didn't want to pry, but I was curious as to what he was thinking.

“Do you want a drink?” He asked, standing up from his spot, and on impulse, thinking he was going to leave and that I should see him out, I stood quickly with him. Our heads collided briskly and both of us grabbed for our hair with smiles and a brief laugh.

“Ouch.” I cried with a smirk, and Johnny giggled.
“I am so sorry, Angel.” He grabbed onto my hand and pulled it away from the tender spot on my forehead. Not letting his fingers unravel from mine, he gave it a gentle kiss and looked down at me. “Better?” Johnny asked, and I simply nodded.

There was a wonderful air about him and I took it all in rather quickly. Realizing that this was the closest I had ever been to him, I thought it wise to grasp the experience and run with it while I still had the means.

Johnny smelled of a faint cologne that still lingered from when he ventured out all those hours ago. It was something bitter and sweet, something very masculine with just a hint of femininity; the absolute perfect smell.

There was also a trace of whiskey on his breath from his trip earlier that night to the hotel's bar. The intoxicating smell of him flooded into my unsuspecting nostrils, filling my lungs and insides with a glowing ecstasy as he breathed heavy onto the nape of my goose bump ridden flesh.

“Yeah...” I said dreamily, looking up into his big brown eyes, simply mesmerized by him. “Um,” I cleared my throat, looking down at our hands. Johnny saw also and quickly jerked his from mine, leaving me feeling alone, and cold again.

“Did you need something?” I fumbled for words, sputtering letters like an uneducated asshole. “I could um, get you...” I jerked a thumb towards the door. “A um, cup of coffee, or some ice, or... or...” God I felt like an idiot. Why couldn't I just shut the hell up? “I could get you a towel?” Now I was just pulling things out of my ass.

Johnny laughed. “No, I don't need any of that. What I actually need is a place to sleep.”
I looked at him with confused eyes, befuddled because I had been under the notion that there were prearranged sleeping orders. “But aren't you suppos-”

“To be bunking with Steve-O?” Johnny finished my sentence. “Yeah, but Steve-O turned into Drunk-O and tore up the hotel room.”

“What?” I asked, curiosity and nosiness getting the best of me; I pried for more information.
“Steve had been drinking vodka all night although he knows he's not supposed to.”
“Why not?”
“Because he gets a bit too drunk, does really stupid shit, and then passes out and doesn't remember a lick of it the next morning.” Johnny rolled his eyes like it was the most normal thing in the world and then went to the mini fridge. He pulled out a bottle of liquor which I knew was mandatory in every room the crew had rented, due to the fact that I had been put in charge of making the list of demands for the places we were staying in.

“So why can't you stay in that room?” I approached him, pulling a tray of ice out of the freezer and placing a few cubes into the two cups Johnny was preparing.

“Steve got totally trashed and Jeff put him in bed a while after you and the boys got done with your swim,” Johnny poured a cold, clear liquid into each of the cups. “And he was pissed that we cut him off, so he came up here and tore the place up.”

He handed me my cup and took a sip of his before leaning against the dresser to tell me the rest of the story, watching me almost hawk like as I got back into bed. “I tried to get in after I had come upstairs but I could barely make it through the door, let alone turn on the light.”

I took a sip from my glass and Johnny laughed as my face went sour at the taste. “Too strong!” I coughed, and Johnny rushed over with a can of 7up before I could ask him what Steve-O had done to the room.

I thanked him and he took a spot on the bed next to me, folding his legs Indian style like I had, we sat face to face like girls gossiping at a high school slumber party. “Please, go on.” I urged, and he continued.

“From what I could see thanks to the hallway light and open window, there weren't any beds left. He'd flipped the mattresses, knocked over the table, shattered the pictures, the lamps, and was curled up in the fetal position in the middle of it.”

“Oh no!” My hand shot to my lips, and I covered my mouth. I didn't know whether to run and check on him, or laugh. The liquor had already begun to burn hot in my veins, and suddenly I didn't feel all that stressed about anything anymore.

It was natural for me to worry and want to take care of everyone, but this time I felt like Steve didn't deserve my efforts; Johnny did. “Was he okay?”
Johnny smiled. “Always have to worry, don't you?”

I slapped him playfully on the arm. “Shut up! If I don't care that you guys are hurt, dead, have gang green or chlamydia, then who will?”
Johnny laughed. “We don't need a mother. We're big boys.”
“Yeah, but you act like children.” I snapped back, the booze that burned my flesh with a warm euphoria made me witty.

“Ooh,” Johnny laughed. “I'm insulted. Someone gets cocky when they drink.”
“I'm like you,” I replied, taking a huge gulp of my mixed drink and finishing the last of it off before holding it out to him, shaking in silent demand for a second. “I'm always cocky.”

“That is where you are mistaken, Angel.” Johnny got up from his spot and went back over to the dresser, filling up both of our glasses once again. I noted that he put more of the clear liquor into them than the last time. “I'm only cocky when you're around.” He winked at me, handing me my glass and sending my eyes darting to the dark blue cloth of his Dickie's.

“Why do you call me 'Angel'?” I asked him, trying to change the subject and giving myself time to think what he could have possibly meant by the previous statement.

“An angel is often regarded as a beautiful, flawless, guardian or attendant,” He smiled softly, only the edges of his lips curving upwards as he looked slightly down; eyes darting rapidly from me to the mattress as if afraid of what he was saying. “And that's exactly what you are to all of us guys.”

There was a flutter in my chest and I felt short of breath before he could even finish his sentence.
“You're someone undoubtedly sent from Heaven to make sure that none of us bite it too soon.” He took a last, unsteady sip from his glass and I hadn't even realized how quickly he'd finished. “Not to mention, it's close enough to your name. Angel – Angela. Same thing.”

“I'm not beautiful,” I laughed, flipping the scraggly fallen hair from my face. “And I'm no where near perfect.” I stood up so wobbly from the alcohol that I could barely keep my feet. Johnny jumped quickly, grabbing onto my waist to steady my feeble body.

He took the glass from my hand and set it on the end table along with his own. The dark, curly hair had fallen into my face again and I, in my dumbfounded, incoherent state, attempted numerous times to blow it away. Johnny laughed at my failed attempts and then brushed it away with gentle fingers. “That's a matter of opinion.” He said, finally replying to what I had said before so blatantly making an ass out of myself.

Another wave of good feelings hit me, and the intoxicant that was now searing throughout my entire body caused my head to spin and legs to buckle. I grabbed onto Johnny's neck for support, and his grip tightened, clenching me to his muscled chest so I wouldn't go loose like a rag doll.

“You're the angel.” I said drunkly then brought my face close to his, letting our warm lips graze against one another before engulfing the opposite person in the most passionate of kisses.
I'd been waiting since the day I'd met Johnny for these events to take place. There was something about him that filled my insides with an even better high than the alcohol did. My body and heart burned for more, but my head and the professional in me told me it just wasn't right.

Reluctantly, I pulled away from him; his grip still not loosening, not even a bit.
“This isn't right, Johnny.” I pushed away from him. My temples throbbing from what I had just done.
“Why isn't it right?” He demanded I tell him, his arms going stiff at his sides now that my body wasn't occupying them anymore.

“I work for you.” I said, sitting down on the bed. Now I was the one with my face in my palms, looking miserable. “I cant mix business with my personal life. I refuse!” I stood up quickly, more quickly than I should have, but held my stance despite my body's overbearing need to sit down. “You should leave.” I ordered, and pointed towards the door.