Summary:After a hard afternoon, Eddie treats MJ to grilled cheese and Long Islands, secrets are revealed. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Eddie is taking a nap on MJ's couch. Technically, he's supposed to be bodyguarding her today, but the shoot she was going on ended up getting moved and she decided to go talk to her friend Peter, the little dweeb boy, so Eddie's off the clock and ended up drifting off on the sofa.
He's wearing a black t-shirt and jeans, or, at least, appears to be wearing that, his eyes closed as he snoozes. The game shows on the TV are a bit loud and garish, with empty smiling guys spraytanned orange handing out prizes to tourists.
MJ's entrance was something left to be desired; the door slams and without a beat, she went straight to her room. Flopping down upon the bed, she sighs and takes her phone out, finally powering it on and seeing that there were no missed calls or texts of importance, clearing out what -was- there, and flopping it onto the bed.
She leans forward to cover her face, letting out a quiet cry, then finally inhales out a scream of frustration. Damn that Peter Parker! Her world was turned upside down!
Venom wakes up slowly and groggily, sitting up and stretching. He hears the quiet cry and frowns. She didn't even say hello! So rude.
He makes his way to the door of her bedroom, knocking on the door, "Hey, MJ, just so you know I'm…still here. I can bail if you want, but if you wanna talk about anything, I give terrible advice but make excellent grilled cheese."
Hearing Eddie, she sighs and remains still, finally lifting her head to stare at the door. "Its.. I'm sorry Eddie." She calls out, finally standing. She -was- hungry after all, but she didn't know if she had the appetite to eat. But she pulls open the door to lean against it, her face red, make-up gone, even though she had a pretty face it was clear she looked like hell.
"I meant to tell you, your apartment if you still want it should be ready in a week. I know this building is a bit annoying to get into with the constant checks, but soon as you get your keys.." She waves her hand briefly, she didn't care to finish the sentence. She just sits back upon her bed, and mopes.
Venom shakes his head, "Ain't no rush. I'm not freezing to death," he says. He looks a little awkward, leaning against the doorway and crossing his massive arms over his chest.
"Ain't no reason to be sorry. I'm just makin' sure you're okay. I know I'm just the bodyguard around here, but you seem a little wrecked. You need me to powerbomb anybody onto concrete?"
"No.. no Eddie.. I.." She sighs, "I just got into a little spat with Peter is all." She smiles sadly, then gestures towards the chair. The setup was still the same; a large bed, fitting for a queen. Spotlights on either side of the bed to fill the room with lights. The table in the middle of the room was a mess with make-up, more lights that are attached to the table, camera in front of the table so that she could record her videos to put online. It looked like a studio, one that someone sleeps in.
Nevermind the clothes that fill the floor on the other side of the bed.
"You.. you have a secret so wonderful, right? Wouldn't you tell your best friend?" She asks him, then shakes her head. "And before you ask, he didn't get his girlfriend pregnant." She laughs, then shakes her head. "I know this isn't part of your job, but I feel like I did this to myself. I withdrew."
Eddie flicks his tongue against his teeth. Certainly hits a little close to home, although he doesn't work that hard keeping Venom a secret. He just doesn't want to scare people.
"Wonderful's a relative term," he says. "Might seem wonderful to you but be all kindsa messy on his side. I don't know what it is, so I can't judge. If he's your friend, he probably thought he was protecting you. Or he was afraid of how you'd react. I mean, he seems like kind of a pussy, but still, that's the way people are. Can't blame yourself for it, though. Still his responsibility and his decision to keep a secret, whatever it is. Not talking to someone for a while shouldn't matter whether you trust 'em or not."
"That's what he said.." She murmured quietly. Maybe.. sometime.. she probably could have died. She shakes that aside for now, but lifts her hand. "He's not a…" She even felt uncomfortable saying that word! "..he's my best friend. And he's really a great, and genuine guy." She smiles a little.
"Thank you Eddie.." She says, standing. "..I just want to be selfish for a little bit and think about my side only. It feels like now that I know, that's all I've been doing. Giving everyone an inch and a mile and me taking only centimeters. I want to know what I want and I don't know -how- to know that now."
Venom shrugs, "Everybody's gotta be selfish sometimes. You're all you got, at the end of the day. Well. Usually," he says. He hears a snicker in the back of his head at that. Yeah, yeah, yeah.
"You don't always have to be understanding or swallow it. It's okay to be pissed off. It ain't the end of the world for you to be pissed off at him. If he's the great guy you think he is, then he'll be able to handle a little righteous fury," he says, then considers, "You want a drink?"
"Yeah.." MJ says quietly, then sits back upon the bed again.
"If I know Peter, at the end of the day he'll be alright." The mention of a drink has her shaking her head. "That one time was just.. that. I can't even drink legall…" She pauses. "To heck with it. Yeah, I'll take a drink. Just like you make it. And maybe that grilled cheese."
Yeah! Doing something for yourself! This is how it looks!
Eddie grins and gestures for her to just sit down, "Gimme a minute," he says.
After about fifteen minutes, he returns with a small pile of freshly grilled cheese sandwiches and a small pitcher of some sort of drink concoction, "Long Island Iced Tea, grilled cheese. You didn't have any tomato soup, so deal with it. Full bar, no tomato soup," he says.
MJ sits back down, then stands again to pace the room. The shared apartment was smelling really great now, but she doesn't leave from her spot. She only sits in the chair that Eddie once sat in, going through her makeup, putting brushes back into their pack. Once Eddie returns and places the food and the drinks down, she tackles the grilled cheese first.
It was clear that her and Flash weren't hard up for money, but obviously they probably just don't know how to shop for food. Eddie had more experience than the two, and she was half tempted to ask him to live there. It's not like they didn't have room. "Okay, this is good.." She says with a full mouth, using the drink to wash down all of the cheese. "I don't like tomato soup.." She says once again rudely, still.. mouth full.. drinks.
Eddie nods, "That's fair. Just usually goes with the grilled cheese. Also cheap, although I guess that ain't really a problem for you. I spent a few years livin' on these as my main form of sustenance. How I got good at makin' them. My ma figured I'd have a hard time gettin' a wife, so I oughtta at least be good at makin' my own food."
He wolfs two sandwiches down himself, only needing a couple of bites to finish each wedge. And that's him being delicate with them.
"How could you not get a wife?" MJ was shocked.
"Have you seen you in a suit? You clean up well! Heck, if you move in here with me and Flash we'll definitely get you all the new threads. Not like you'd be our baby and all but.. if I put you in front of this camera and show you to the Watson's they'll be thirsting for you for -weeks-."
More drinks.
"This drink is good. Like really good. Like.. some weird form of candy! Can I have some more?"
Eddie arches an eyebrow, "Yeah? Welll, I didn't get to wear a suit much growin' up. Single mom in Philly, in and out of juvie…the only suit they figured me for was an orange jumpsuit. Writing saved me for a while anyway," he says. Then things got bad again, as an adult. But he's not talking about that right now. She's already made it clear she has enough on her plate.
"Sure," he says, pouring another for her. He's not monitoring her intake, he's not her caretaker, just her bodyguard. "Wait, are the Watson's your parents? You think your parents would thirst for me?" he chuckles, "That's a little…"
He pours another drink; it was honestly refreshing to hear someone elses story for a change. Writing saved him, just like her, pretending to be someone else saved her from worlds of trouble.
As he pours her more liquor, she takes a drink, a few good gulps until she has enough, putting the glass down. "No, my fan base. See, come look." She points to a chair for him to grab, then opens the table drawer to retrieve a tablet. It was powered on, and soon swiped through. "So, where it says hashtag watsons.. that's all of my fanclub."
'Hey girl! -LOVE- the new eye palate! Your review was spot on! ##watsonsforlife'
'MJ! When are you going to release another video! I need you in my life! ##watsons'
'I saw you yesterday walking in the park by yourself. You shouldn't be alone! You need me, EMJAY.'
'WHEN WILL YOU NOTICE ME EMJAY!'
Mary Jane scrolls through it quickly, then hands the pad over. "My fans are mostly women, some older ones too. Trust me. You are totally hot."
Eddie grins, "Older, huh? I'm already a geezer, huh? I'm only thirty two, y'know," he jokes.
He takes another drink for himself, not that it does a whole lot to him. Regeneration was a double-edged sword but it helped that the symbiote kind of didn't mind a buzz. "Must be a pain in the ass, all those people watchin' you all the time, wantin' your attention. Even if I ever got big as a writer, it wouldn't be like that, I could still…be me without people recognizing me. Probably."
"And I'm nine-teeeeeenn.." She drones on. MJ was a total lightweight, but she felt .. awesome!
She takes another drink, then smacks her lip, shaking her half empty cup for another pour. "No! Only…" She stands up, then looks around. "..so like when I was in California, someone kept leaving pearl necklaces on my doorstep. I thought it was for my mom y'know? Cause she's -totally- hot. Imagine my sister with blonde hair. SMOKING."
Eddie has never saw her sister.
"But it kept coming and I never wore em cause ew. Totes not my style. Then next thing you know someone puts a dead dogs head and says they'll kill me for ignoring them." She pauses, pats her chest, then burps a little. "It's not fun Eddie but tis a libin." Yes, she said libin.
Eddie frowns, "That definitely sounds obsessive. Also dirty, since…y'know,, pearl necklaces."
"Real pearls? Cause those aren't cheap. Not that you can trace something like that much, unless it's registered for insurance purposes," he says. He can play detective if he likes, he's an investigative reporter. Well. Used to be.
He takes the drink gently from her hand, "If you want to drink yourself unconsciuos, I'm not going to stop you, but maybe you should cut off before you end up throwing up grilled cheese all over your nice sheets, huh?"
"Yess." Obsessive. MJ nods. "What about pearl necklaces?"
She really didn't know if it were expensive or not. Her mother has them all and has worn them, so she never really cared until that fateful day of the puppy. In fact, she's never really told anyone about it outside of family until now.
As he takes the cup, she gives him a doe eyed look, almost as if she were ready to cry. "I'm.. I'm not going to throw up. I got a bathroom. I know how to use my legs!" God, she was pouting. It was -horrible-!
"Eddie. Eddie. Tell me something. Like something really good." God, she was feeling loopy, like her brain was being massaged. "Like.. I can tell you some stuff."
"You have Google, look it up yourself," he says.
He helps her stay steady and sets her on the edge of the bed, making sure to get the plate out of the way so she doesn't lay down on it.
"You're pretty drunk. Just makin' sure you know that. So, make sure you want to tell me things if you want to tell me things. I have secrets, sure, probably worse than your boy, Peter. I ain't no angel. But then you didn't hire me to be one."
While he steadies her, she grabs his arm to pull him down next to her. She points out at the wall, heeding his advice, even though what she was going to tell him wasn't anything -too- personal. Really, MJ was so boring..
"You know Uwe Boll? The director? So, he had a movie that he wanted to do before he got discouraged right? This was.. two weeks ago."
She continues. "He was totally caught with cocaine and to not highlight it, sweeped under the -rug!-" She frowns. "I mean he's a crappy director but I would have at least a co-starring role.." She sighs, then flops back onto the bed. "Why aren't you an angel.. you're nice to me and you look out for me."
He grins, "I don't know that anybody angelic would be hangin' around in your bedroom while you're drunk and sad about your old boytoy, kiddo."
"Yeah, I think I heard of that guy. Kind of an asshole. Not surprising. I did coke for a while, back in my early 20s. Good for staying up all night. Bad for your prose style," he says.
"You don't get it.." She says, then sits up. "I'm not sad.. well I am sad. Its just.." She gestures. "..there could have been something there, you know? But.. there has been so much.. like.." She couldn't even get her thoughts together. "I could have been a better me.." Her voice breaks, and the tears start slowing again.
"I feel like I trashed myself emotionally."
Tentatively, Eddie reaches out and slides one of his muscles arms around her shoulder, "You're a pretty fucking good you as it is, kid. Maybe there was something there. Maybe someday again. The world's complicated with that shit. But there's no need to beat yourself up about it. You did the best you could, with what you knew. Same as anybody," he says.
"I'm sorry you're hurtin'. I know that sucks. Been there."
She leans against Eddie as he comforts her, both hands buried into her face as she full on drunkenly cries. That good feeling, didn't feel so good anymore. Now she was riddled with guilt at how she left things with Peter, and how she.. well, thought about herself. In fact, it was good to get all of this out before Flash got home.
"I don't know what to do with myself now.." She says through muffles. "What did you do?" She sniffs heavily, probably wanting another drink but thinking better of it. "God.. can we just eat carbs and watch black and whites right now?"
Eddie laughs, "I think we just ate a shitload of carbs, but I can get more soon enough. I know I can handle it, although I'd check the temperature on your guts before you load up again after all that booze," he says.
He strokes a hand over her back, "I found somebody who helped me," he admitted. "Someone who was…like me. Who gave me something to do with all my anger and my guilt and my self-loathing. Maybe not good for me in the traditional sense. But it made me feel better, that's for sure."
"Oh king of grilled cheese.." MJ teases through her tears. Leaning into him again as he rubs at her back. "..who is this person? Can I meet them?" She wasn't angry, but she was loathing herself right now. Eventually, she'll send an apology text to Peter about the way she acted, but.. she needed a true outlet. Maybe Eddie's friend could provide unbiased advice.
Since she does pay Eddie to be unbiased.
"You know.. sometimes when I'm feeling something I don't like.. I sing. Usually when I'm alone but.." She smiles a little. "..I also listen to Marilyn Manson. I don't look it, but I love his songs." She grins, then grip his arm to hug. MJ truly was drunk and lost it. But it was her personal confession! Her secret!
"I even love Slipknot, please don't tell anyone!"
Eddie looks at her for a long moment, "Maybe someday," he says.
<I'd love to meet her, Eddie.>
(She's not ready for you.)
<She seems pretty ripe to me. Ready to be plucked - or something like it.>
(All the more reason to keep you away from her.)
<Spoilsport.>
(Pervert.)
<I'm not the only one.>
"I'm not much for super loud music anymore. A little rough on my ears," he says. "But I liked them both once upon a time. Nothing to be ashamed of. You should like what you like and fuck anyone who says otherwise."
"Oooh.. that's fine. It's okay.."
MJ reaches back for a pillow then stands. Her pace was an odd stumble and a wobbily move, clutching that pillow and stepping back and forth.
"But you're a writer! You know how our images are.." She expresses, stopping, stumble a little, then continuing.
"I can't drive a red convertable and blast.. Kittie. Or Android Lust.." MJ takes the pillow and shakes it, almost like she was in a headbanging concert, then begins to belt out the lyrics to 'Stained', at least even drunk, she sounds angelic!
He shrugs, "I don't live in that world the way you do. I already had my image go to hell, once upon a time. It tore me up ,until I learned to stop caring," he says. "Most people are fucking morons anyway."
"I think you'd look just right in a little red convertible."
"So fiiiix iiiittt!" Mary Jane sings out in near perfect soprano. She stretches her arms out, then drops the pillow upon the floor as she takes a slight bow. And then she laughs. "I don't want that. Is it damn dumb to just want a bike?"
She pauses. Then clutches her stomach.
"Oh god.. I think I bounced too much.."
He shakes his head, "Nope, not dumb at all. C'mon. Let's get you to the bathroom before you paint the room technicolor," he says. He's had almost twice as much to drink as her, but he doesn't seem particularly wobbly. He grasps her and helps her to her feet, hands on her waist as he shuffle walks her to the bathroom carefully.