[For Bill]

[thewordofweb]

The Catscratch Club is not the best place to write memoirs, but I find the ambiance distracting enough, encouraging enough to put down words on the page. I've got a drink in front of me, a cigarette going, and my notebook turned open to a page where I edit out the words before me, recalling my time in Buchloe, just before Landsberg.

Joe is upstairs doing...well, whatever he does up there. I don't priviledge myself to ask because I do trust him and by the time I finish my drink and enjoy the music, he's usually done and we can head home. I see no purpose in going upstairs myself. I wouldn't exactly enjoy the parade of flesh on display, whether female or male.

So I'm far more inclined to write. It's what I like and it passes the time.

Comments

[thewordofweb.livejournal.com]

My cheeks flush slightly pink because Joe has done that sort of thing with me, but I know better than to stamp my foot down and insist that such a thing cannot be done with anyone but me. "I know he's there," I assure Bill smoothly, sitting back in my chair, palms folded in my lap. "He still likes tits as much as you do, Bill, I'm not about to forbid him," I note. "Is this to do with the fact Helen stays over in your room a good deal of the time? Because trust me, he will never sleep with her." He knows the consequences of that and he's proven to want only me in that fashion as of late.

[guinea-trap.livejournal.com]

Bill's expression shows his disgust, but at the mention of Helen his face turns red. Not with embarrassment, not so much, but with anger. His hands clench into fists, and it takes everything in his power not to deck Web right where he sits.

"Helen can sleep with whoever she wants," he grinds out, angry that he even cares, that Web of all people can even fuckin' tell. He feels a spike of shame, pathetic, but it too burns into anger. "I was under the impression that this queer shit wasn't just the sex. I just thought you'd wanna know."

He gets up, not wantin' to stick around.

[thewordofweb.livejournal.com]

I sigh and shove my book closed before getting up and peeling off the chair to get in front of Bill, not wanting him to just storm off. "Yeah, well, Joe can't," I say bluntly. "He's not allowed to sleep with anyone else. Jesus," I huff, giving Bill a half-desperate look. "Let me get you a drink, okay?" I suggest. "Just because I'm something you hate now doesn't mean once upon a time we didn't drink under the same roof and share the same stories and jokes."

[guinea-trap.livejournal.com]

Bill wonders if that's hurt on Web's face, and he feels bad all of a sudden. He don't know why he came bustin' down the stairs to tell on Joe. Just knows it wasn't right, Joe bein' up there with Helen. Bill just ain't sure whose sake it was that he told.

"I don't...hate...you or nothin'," Bill mutters, followin' Web back to the bar. "Don't hate any of you boys, okay? I just..." He shakes his head, scrubs a hand over his face. Goddamn, he does need that drink.

[thewordofweb.livejournal.com]

I barely restrain myself, wanting to point out that I didn't exactly get a warm welcome, but I know it's as much as my own fault. I stayed away too long, I should have been there, in Bastogne. "Come on, come drink with me. You can ask whatever you want and I'm not going to have my feelings hurt. Besides, Joe's probably bound for some more drinks and I don't think he even knows I'm here," I admit.