November Rain

A/N: This first chapter is just kinda yeah. I promise it will get better. I just needed kinda somewhere to start. Reviews are welcome but please don't be mean. Alright then.

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I watched them laugh and drink and act like they had not a care in the world. There he stood, falsely black hair hanging down in his face. In one hand he held his drink, a dark amber liquid that he ordered every time they would go out, and in the other was her. She held tightly onto his arm laughing at all his stupid little jokes. But that’s why he married her right? Because she gave him the attention that none of his band mates could. It was disgusting.
They were always all over each other. There was no shame at all and they didn’t care what the public thought. The band didn’t really suffer, but they didn’t like it either. But what could they do? It was his life.
So there they stood. Him in his perfection and she in her whorishness. They would go back to their hotel room after they had gotten completely wasted and then keep the surrounding rooms up all night.
“It’s because they’re newlyweds,” the vocalist would say. I think he, other than the one mentioned above, was my favorite. He always knew the right things to say at the right moment. He could make you smile without even trying. He was just an overall great guy. But his words weren’t very comforting at this moment. She didn’t deserve him yet he would spend all night fucking her and the rest of us could hardly drown it out with our ipods. I would often find myself sneaking into the other guys’ rooms. The vocalist knew about my feelings towards the other, and he never seemed to mind when I would crawl into bed with him. He would just hold me until I fell asleep, and be there for me when I woke up in the morning.
“Do you want me to talk to him?” he would ask after pouring me a cup of coffee.
“No, he’s married now. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
It really didn’t anymore. I had been touring with the band for almost two years now. I fell for him halfway through the first six months. He met her January of the second year. They were married eight months later. I hated her. Once she came around I was forgotten. Every time I saw them standing together I wanted to go up to her and rip her fucking hair out. But I, of course, was the mature one.
Every time she would say something to hurt him I was there to pick up the pieces. When he told her he loved her and she didn’t say it back, I was the one who found him and talked him into coming out of his bunk that night. But he never noticed me. He always went back to her. Maybe that’s true love, crawling back to someone after they’ve treated you like shit. But it wasn’t my place to say anything. I would just have to go on doing my job and hope that one day he would actually realize my existence.