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This Time Around	By : Daisygirl1315 Category: Reality TV > American Idol/Pop Idol Views: 11904 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the people I am writing about in this fanfiction. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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I paced nervously as I waited for Andrew to find a way for me to get home.

Glancing impatiently at my watch, I stared up at the dark sky, willing the tears in my eyes not to cascade down my face.

I sniffled a bit and coughed, wiping nonchalantly at the corners of my eyes.

Finally Andrew burst back through the doors.

"Ms. Abdul, your limo is on its way. It should be here in the next thirty to forty five minutes."

"Thirty to forty five minutes!" I exclaimed. "No, I’m not waiting that long."

"Ma’am, it’s the earliest they could get here," he tried to explain gently. "With the traffic and all."

I stared at him for a moment.

"Is there any way you could take me home?" I asked hopefully.

His eyes widened.

"Ms. Abdul, I- I’m on a job here. I can’t take you home."

I shifted my weight from my right foot to my left, glancing down at my clenched hands before I looked up at him.

"Please," I asked desperately. "I really can’t stay here."

"I’m sure the limo will be along-"

"I can’t wait that long," I cut him off.

"Is it an emergency?" he asked softly.

"It is to me," I said softly, looking into his eyes pleadingly.

He stared back at me despondently.

"Please," I said urgently. "You don’t understand, I have to get out of here."

He stared at me dubiously as he shifted the weight on his feet back and forth.

The tears began to well in my eyes and I turned away, not wanting him to see me cry.

Behind me, I heard a sigh and a jangle of keys.

"Chris?" I heard him ask one of the other guards. "Could you pull my Toyota around from the back? Thanks."

I breathed a sigh of relief as I rubbed my temples, attempting to relieve the strain.

Attempting to erase what I saw inside.

I heard the noise of tires on the pavement as a Corolla pulled to the curb.

Taking a deep breath to compose myself, I turned around to face Andrew, who was standing on the passenger’s side, door open, waiting for me to get in.

"Thank you," I said softly. I reached blindly for some cash in my purse. "Here, let me…uh…" I mumbled as I scrounged for my wallet.

He placed his hand over mine. "That’s not necessary," he said. "It’s my pleasure."

I flashed him a weak smile as I slid into the seat and the door closed behind me.

He hopped in on the other side, cranking the car with ease.

"Okay, Ms. Abdul. Where to?"

"Sherman Oaks," I replied with a sigh as I leaned my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes.

Images danced in my mind as I replayed the scene for the thousandth time since I exited the Sky Bar.

Who was she? I wondered.

He looked pretty comfortable with her.

Had he known her for a while?

Did he fuck her when he wasn’t with me?

Had he always been playing this game, assuming I’d never find out?

Was he fucking her now?

I felt the tears well in my eyes and I choked back a sob.

The silence in the car was deafening.

Music, I decided. I needed music.

"Mind if I turn on the radio?" I asked softly.

"Sure," Andrew replied gently.

I reached down blindly, searching for the volume knob.

I’ve tried to go on like I never knew you
I’m awake but my world is half asleep
I pray for this heart to be unbroken
But without you all I’m going to be is incomplete

"Ugh," I said out loud, changing the station. I didn’t need sappy boy-band music.

I flipped to a different station.

Lovin you, That isn't really something I should do
I shouldn't wanna spend my time with you ya
Well I should try to be strong
But baby you're the right kind of wrong
Ya, baby you're the right kind of wrong

Or Leanne Rimes.

I didn’t need her either.

Next.

Love's more comfortable
The second time you fall
Like a friendly home
The second time you call
Who can say what brought us to this miracle we've found
There are those who'll bet
Love comes but once and yet
I'm oh so glad we met
The second time around

Frank’s voice filled the sound system and in that instant I was thrown into a metamorphosis of memories.

The time Simon and I listened to this song together on the way back to my house.

The affair spoof.

Hawaii.

The illicit phone conversation.

The first time we fucked.

Playing "poodle" for Kate.

The plane ride to New York.

Accidentally admitting I was in love with him mid-orgasm.

Trying desperately to get him to admit he loved me too.

The tears swam in my eyes and dribbled down my cheeks and I allowed them to run, not reaching to rub them away.

Down my cheeks, down my neck, into my cleavage, the tears poured as I once again realized I’d been scorned in yet another relationship.

But worst of all, I was scorned by the guy I swore I’d never give a chance.

I was scorned by the guy I possibly loved more than any other man I’d ever been involved with.

And that included my two ex-husbands.

I heaved a sigh as the gut-wrenching sobs subsided, allowing me to catch my breath through hiccups.

Breathing heavily, I began to laugh at myself and how worked up I got.

Why did I always let that man get to me?

I looked over at Andrew and I could tell he was watching me warily out of the corner of his eye.

I laughed, placing my hand on his shoulder.

"You must think I’m insane!"

He laughed. "No ma’am."

"Or at least bi-polar," I offered, wiping at the corners of my eyes.

He smiled gently. "You don’t owe me any explanations, I barely know you."

"I know," I replied, suddenly feeling awkward.

"And I know the end of the season is a sad time for everyone," he smiled knowingly.

"Yeah," I conceded. "Turn here," I said, pointing to the left. "And I’m at the end of the cul-de-sac."

He pulled in my driveway swiftly, stopping as he nearly slammed into the black Bentley that was Simon’s.

"Thanks- thanks for the ride," I said distractedly as I eyed the dark vehicle obstructing the driveway.

"Do you know the driver of this car?" Andrew asked.

I squinted my eyes, trying to refocus.

"I- I think so," I said unsurely.

Was this some sort of mirage? Or was Simon’s car really parked in my driveway?

"Allow me to walk you to the door anyway?" Andrew asked.

"That’d be great" I said flatly. "Thanks."

As I slowly removed my seatbelt, I saw the driver’s door on the Bentley swing open, and out stepped Simon, still donning his pin-striped Armani tux.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, I mentally repeated as I swung the vanity mirror down, wiping the mascara from my face and smoothing my hair back.

I quickly dabbed on some lipstick before I exited the car.

"What took you so long?" Simon asked smugly, shifting his weight so that he leaned gracefully against his car.

"What do you want Simon?" I asked coldly as Andrew stepped out of the car on the other side.

Simon’s face fell.

"Who is this?"

"He’s-" I began to explain.

"You brought someone home with you?" Simon asked before I could finish, his tone defensive and hurt.

"So what if I did?" I exclaimed. "You didn’t seem too concerned over who I was with an hour ago!"

"I didn’t bring them HOME with me," he shot back.

"Andrew’s not even here to come ‘home with me’," I shouted.

"Well, that’s funny, seeing as he’s here!"

"He just gave me a ride home from the Skybar," I seethed.

"Yeah. I’m sure. He was probably hoping to get a different ride later," Simon scoffed rudely.

I sighed.

"Andrew, thanks. I think I’ve got it from here."

"You sure?" Andrew replied.

"Yeah, thanks for the ride."

"My pleasure, ma’am," he replied, giving me a half salute before he returned to the drivers seat and exited my driveway quickly.

I eyed Simon angrily before I pushed past him, stomping towards the door.

"Paula, wait."

"No," I said, fumbling with the keys to unlock the door. "This is completely ridiculous. I can’t BELIEVE you just got mad at me because you thought I was bringing someone home when YOU had fifty girls hanging all over you tonight."

"There weren’t fifty," he said. "Forty five at most."

I whirled around to face him, anger raging inside of me.

"That’s not funny."

"Not even a little?"

"No! Simon, don’t you realize I’m ROYALLY pissed at you?"

"And that’s why I’m here," he replied, without missing a beat.

"To piss me off even more?"

"Can I come inside?" he asked when I finally found the right key and pushed the door ajar.

"Yes I mind. Why are you really here Simon?" I asked, pushing my way in the door then whirling around to block him from following me in.

"I'm here to come inside," he persisted.

"Why are you so determined to come in?"

"Well, what if there are paparazzi around?" he asked genuinely. "You want to be photographed looking like that?"

"Like what?"

"With the mascara running down your face?"

I clenched my jaw, seething.

"I think, if the paparazzi were here, my last concern would be my mascara."

"And your first concern would be?"

"Asking them to call immigration!"

He only smirked at me, crossing his arms smugly across his chest.

I shifted my weight to my left foot, leaning against the door frame as I propped my right hand on my hip.

"I’ve missed this," he said, his tone suddenly reminiscent.

"Missed what?’

"This," he said, using his hand to gesture back and forth between the two of us. "We don’t fight nearly as much as we used to."

"And you missed that?"

"Yes. You’re most entertaining when you’re angry."

I stared at him blankly.

"It’s a compliment," he added.

"Gee, thanks?"

"So, do you mind if I come in?" he prompted.

"Yes I mind. What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to come inside," he persisted.

I stared at him despondently for a few moments before relenting; walking backwards and pulling the door open with me, gesturing exaggeratedly. "Mi casa es su casa," I said dryly.

"Thanks love," he said, leaning down to peck me on the cheek.

I wiped my cheek as if his lips were coated with acid as I let go of the door, allowing it to slam behind him.

"What are you doing here?" I repeated for the thousandth time.

"I'm here to be with you," he replied, turning around to face me.

"What?!"

"I'm here to BE WITH YOU," he said loudly, cupping his hands around his mouth as if he were speaking to someone hard of hearing.

"I heard you the first time," I seethed.

"Then why did you ask me to repeat..."

"You're here to be with me? To BE WITH ME??" I growled, images of the previous day flashing again in my mind. "If what I saw tonight is any indication, I'm the last person you want to be with tonight."

"Paw-ler," he began, drawling my name. "Those girls meant nothing to me. Besides, I asked you to come. And you declined...very diva-ishly I might add," he finished in a stage whisper.

Anger was festering inside me by the second.

"Oh, so if I wasn't going to be there you'd just take the next twit that came along."

"Actually there were two..."

"You're not really helping your case here," I spat.

"I had plenty of opportunity to fuck them tonight..."

"STILL not helping me feel any better Simon," I interrupted.

"If you'd let me FINISH...I had plenty of opportunity to fuck them tonight but instead I chose you to fuck."

"Oh!" I exclaimed melodramatically. "Well, I've gotta say, that makes me feel TONS better," I screamed, narrowing my eyes at him as I crossed my arms over my chest.

Mentally I counted to ten, as he stared blankly at me.

It was almost as if he was honestly taken aback by the fact that I hadn't jumped into his arms and fucked him against the wall yet.

"Just go, Simon. Just leave," I said with defeat, exhaustion evident in my voice and body movements as I motioned limply towards the door. "It's over. I'll see you in August."

"It's not over," he growled, slamming me against the wall, cupping my face between his hands as he kissed me passionately.

"No," I whimpered, pushing him off of me. "Simon, it's not that simple. You can't just fuck me and make it all okay. It's not that easy with me."

"Nothing is easy with you." he said. "And that's why I'm here tonight. That's why I've always been here."

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Paula, as you know, I've been with over 100 women..."

"Again, NOT helping your case," I interjected with exasperation.

He paused, waiting for me to finish, then cleared his throat.

"As I was saying, I've been with 100 women. With all those other girls I fucked them and left. I never called them again. But oddly enough, you somehow keep me coming back for more."

He paused, smirking.

"And God only knows why, because you're frustrating as hell."

I grinned at him, my anger subsiding. "But I'm worth it right?"

"Uhhhh," he said, outstretching his arms and facing his palms upwards as he pretended to weigh the pros and cons.

"Right??" I asked, giving him a playful shove.

"I suppose," he smirked.

"Should I take that as an apology?" I asked.

"Well, you can, but I rather wish you wouldn't."

"Why? Because you’ve never apologized before in your life and you don’t want to ruin your record?" I inquired sarcastically.

"Well, that," he smirked, "and I was kinda hoping we'd have angry sex tonight..."

I crossed my arms across my chest. "Keep talking like that and you'll get an angry foot in your ass," I smirked, suddenly unable to contain my giggles.

"Kinky," he replied, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

I rolled my eyes with exaggeration. "You’re so dumb."

"I’m so glad you’re back to arguing like a third grader," he teased.

I lifted my leg, pretending I was about to knee him in the crotch.

He laughed, as he pushed my leg down, pinning me back against the wall. "Do that and I won’t be able to consummate my anger," he smirked.

"I think that’s the point," I laughed in response.

"So we're okay now?" he asked.

"No."

"No?"

"No. You know the only reason I let you in here tonight is because I was hoping for the angry sex, right?" I asked with a grin.

"Well, in that case, I'm mad at you too."

"Is that so?" I asked as he took slow steps toward me.

"Yes."

"And why is that?" I bantered, waking backwards until I made contact with a wall.

"Because you keep talking instead of letting me fuck you," he said as he slammed his body against me, right before his lips came down on mine.
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This Time Around