Chapter Seventeen - A.J
You’re perfectly wrong for me and that's why it's so hard to leave
Perfectly Wrong - Shawn Mendes
If someone had told me that the singer chosen to open our shows in Brazil – who initially couldn’t stand me, would end up living in my house, I would’ve laughed and suggested professional help.
But now, standing at my door with Alexandra by my side and her two giant suitcases between us, I realize life has a funny way of surprising you. I turn the doorknob, and Alex takes a deep breath, looking uneasy, while I smile.
“Welcome to your new home.”
I gesture for Alexandra to come in as I catch her smile. The scent of a freshly cleaned house makes me exhale in relief — Daniele had Rebeca, the cleaner, coming over when I told her I was heading to Brazil.
The infinite window spans the wall facing the Hudson River, and the sunset spills its light over the living room.
Alexandra stops in front of it, almost as if she’s facing a piece of art.
I walk in, pull the suitcases behind me, and close the door, knowing the impact this view has on unsuspecting visitors.
“Okay, risking sounding a little cocky here, but when you invited me to stay, I definitely didn’t picture your place being this beautiful and...” Alexandra turns her neck toward me with a smile between her teeth, “clean and organized.”
I place a hand over my heart and walk over to her.
“Just because I’m a guy living alone, huh?”
Alex shakes her head and nudges me with her elbow.
“Because you’re a popstar who lives alone,” she points out, winking like she’s seen more of my hotel rooms than any other girl.
“Fair enough. But hey, do you want to see your room?” I ask, touching one of the suitcases, and Alexandra nods, pulling the other one behind me.
Halfway down the hall, her voice makes me stop.
“These are gorgeous!” Alex says, stunned as she scans the wall behind the couch, where my favorite movies’ posters hang. “I love this one,” she adds, leaning over the cushions to touch the Lady and the Tramp frame.
“Me too. Funny thing is, I’m not even that into animated movies...”
“Really? Lucky for you, I’m doing you a favor living here. I can teach you all about them,” she jokes, already eyeing the other frames.
“Is this Elvis?” Alexandra pouts, hand to her mouth. She reaches for the poster without even waiting for an answer. “I love this movie.”
“Austin Butler was the hottest man alive as Elvis,” I say, getting lost in his eyeliner again. “I must’ve watched that movie twelve times in one month.”
“Yep, totally. I was obsessed. Anytime I needed comfort, there he was, hip-shaking on my screen,” she laughs. “But, what’s up with the two empty frames?”
“Still haven’t found their movies,” I shrug. “Maybe one of the animated movies you’ll force me to watch...”, I say, my voice dripping with irony.
“Looks like I’ve got three months to make you fall in love with Anastasia .”
I frown, clearly offended.
“That’s a classic. Of course I’ve seen it.”
“If Anastasia and Dimitri aren’t on that wall, you haven’t seen enough,” she retorts, sticking out her tongue.
“Let’s check out your room,” I say, grabbing the suitcases.
Walking her down the hall while she takes her time looking at the walls, the guitars by my room and the music posters. She giggles when she sees the Vicious Bonds logo.
“Your place is gorgeous,” she says, eyes locking on the sign that reads “Miss Petulant’s little nook.”
“This is your room,” I say, letting her open the door. Her face drops a bit.
I catch the way her eyes go from lit-up to almost dull, and her face drops a bit.
“You hate it?” I ask, half-joking, half-terrified.
“Of course not, A.J. It’s just... so plain.”
She steps in, looking at the gray walls, white bedding, empty shelves.
“The guest room’s all colorful and full of stuff like the living room. But those are my things and this is your space. I wanted it plain so you could make it yours.”
“Can I Pinterest it?” she asks, excited by the idea, and I look away to hide a smile.
“It’s your little nook,” I blick at her. “Go wild.”
“But I’m only here for a month. You don’t mind if I mess with everything?”
“Three months.”
She looks at me, confused.
“We’ll be home between shows.”
“Right. Makes sense. But what if you have someone important over? I can crash in the guest room.”
I think about how only the band ever visits. But I don’t say it.
“I want you to feel at home, Alex.” I step closer, my hands finding her waist. “We should buy your decorations tomorrow. This place needs your vibe.”
She reaches up, pulling my hair into a bun.
“I’m down to go out with you, once I’ve had some proper food,” she agrees as I bend down so she can tie the knot. “But the time? No idea. I’ll still be jet-lagged,” she adds.
“Do you cook?”
“No. Why?” The question must’ve offended her — Alexandra pulls her hands from my shoulders and takes a step back.
“‘Cause I can give you a beautiful house, but no chef patch update. We’ll order something.”
“Perfect.”
“So… what now?”
She glances at the bed, the suitcases.
“A shower and then…” Alexandra stretches before looking back at me. “We can start with the movie, you’ll help me tidy this place up when we decorate.”
“Alright then, let’s watch The Hunchback of Notre Dame .” My answer makes her tense up and frown.
“Bit heavy for a first one, don’t you think?”
“A cartoon won’t break me.”
She laughs like I’m ridiculous.
“If you say so... Wanna shower and order food?” she asks, dragging one of the suitcases to the wardrobe and looking at me.
I grab the other suitcase and step closer, gently fixing her hair — some stubborn curls slipping out of the messy tie.
“Is that ‘wanna shower’ an invitation?” I murmur against the warm skin of her neck, watching her shiver at the sound of my voice.
Before the satisfied smile can fully form on my face, Alexandra spins around and plants both hands on my chest.
“Don’t take advantage of a bilingual girl, you sneaky flirt,” she scolds, pushing me out.
“You didn’t even let me show you the bathroom.”
Alex hesitates, almost glancing over her shoulder – but instead narrows her eyes and keeps pushing me until I’m out of the room.
“I can make it there on my own!” she shouts, making me chuckle as I stare at the Miss Petulant’s Little Nook sign on her door.
Right now, she’s my guest, my friend, and my stage partner.
And whether I like it or not, none of that explains this need to kiss her – a need that’s been quietly consuming me since yesterday.
***
Dani 3: You ghosted me after texting?
I unlock my phone. Alex had been death-staring me every time I touched it during the movie.
Unfortunately, I only realized I should’ve stayed off my phone after telling Dani I’ve been all kinds of confused around Alexandra.
I: Finishing the movie. Be back soon.
I toss the phone on the table and try to focus on the screen, where that bastard Frollo is threatening Esmeralda.
The TV light casts shadows on Alexandra ’s skin. I should be watching the movie, but it’s heavy – and nothing like her. The glow moves across her face, lighting her dark skin with soft freckles I hadn’t noticed before.
God, she’s gorgeous.
But that doesn’t mean anything.
I’ll explain it to Dani tomorrow.
Until then, I need to stop looking at her.
“So…?” Alex asks, wiping a tear as the credits roll.
“That was really good. I just don’t get how people think it’s a kids’ movie...” I mutter, sighing under the weight of the emotional damage.
And the overwhelming urge to kiss her.
“Weren’t you the one who said you wouldn’t be traumatized by a cartoon ?”
“Well, turns out... I was wrong.”
“So, where are we hanging his poster, huh?” she teases, going straight for the emotional bruise.
“Never. I refuse to look at that level of heartbreak every day,” I shoot back, completely scandalized, and Alexandra bursts out laughing as she stands up.
“Aww, such a crybaby.” She throws a pillow at me. “I’m off to bed, Golden Boy. Don’t wake me up! I need to kick this jet lag ASAP.”
“I’ll walk you.” I get up and throw an arm over her shoulders, thinking about last night, when we did this same thing at her place — when everything still felt... normal.
“I can go by myself,” she protests, but then she laces her fingers through mine where they rest on her shoulder.
“I just wanna make sure you don’t get lost or something…” I tease. “And I really did like the movie — it’s just physically painful to remember how awful humanity can be.”
“Yeah. Some people really are just bad.”
“And some people really are just good. Like Quasimodo — raised in hate, but made of love.”
We walk the rest of the way in silence, and I pull away when Alex opens her bedroom door.
“‘Raised in hate, but made of love.’ Wow, look at you, poet. You should write more music.” She winks, stepping into her room and closing the door.
Leaving me alone with all my thoughts about her… and a few new ones about myself.
Writing music…
Only God knows if I can still do that on my own.
I head back to the living room and grab my phone, opening my messages with Dani and ignoring the mix of curse words in both English and Portuguese she’s sent in the last twenty minutes. I focus on the one that actually matters, walking the six steps it takes to reach my room.
Dani 3: I need to know.
Dani 3: Do you actually like her, are you falling, or are you just dazzled?
I read her message as I close the door behind me and, without even turning on the lights, I throw myself onto the bed, guided only by the phone screen.
Daniele might want to kill me tomorrow, but I lock the screen and roll onto my side, accepting the obvious: Alexandra is, without a doubt, enchanting.
But she’s my friend, and I have to stop thinking about her like she’s anything more than that.