The story of a lonesome ol'Jerome

*Andy’s POV*

I felt liquid fire running though my eyes and nerves and veins and arteries as my blood pressure skyrocketed. At first I couldn’t say anything, I just screamed in frustration. What the fuck? What the fuck!

“I’m not a fucking prostitute!” I grabbed the piece of paper from Gwyn and tore it in two, then guided her firmly out of the bus. She turned to look up at me as I went to shut the door. She didn’t look surprised; she had started crying at some point. My anger stopped me from going to hold her and I closed the door right in her face.

“Fuck! Argh!” I didn’t know what the fuck I had done wrong, but it had definitely been very wrong. And there may have been more than one thing. Fuck! Fuck! I screamed again at nothing.

I saw the washcloth from earlier by the sink and remembered washing Gwyn’s hands. “Fuck! Shitting dick!” What the fuck was wrong with women? And this one in particular? She was weird before we had sex, but she fucking lost her shit afterwards. “Godmotherfuckingshitfuckingshit!”

And then, even though CC and I had been working on not doing that sort of shit anymore, I weakened and had a ‘destructive moment.’ I couldn’t really have said exactly what happened; I was left with nothing but my powers of deduction, a mess, and pain in my hands.

Well, I was glad I was up to date on my tetanus shot, when I found a nail from the side-table in my fist. Oops. I wished Gwyn was still here. She would know what to do, she was a veterinarian, after all. I grimaced as I pulled the nail out.

I felt a sudden, horrible wave of remorse. So she was mentally ill. So fucking what? I would get through to her eventually. I grabbed the two torn pieces of paper from the mess on the floor and ran out of the bus to find Gwyn.

I walked around the area for an hour, dodging a few stray fans, but she was gone. She must have driven home. Shit. I eventually used my phone to get back to the bus.

I knew what to do.

Notes