Mysterious Disasters [Chapter Three]

Over a year ago I was engaged to a guy named Peter McVane. He was the drummer in my band. He was my best friend and the guy I wanted to be my first. He was also my first and only Love.
Peter wanted me to go Hawaii with him for the winter. I said no, thinking, I needed to stay ahead for my next album. Run some songs through, talk to my manager about new publicizing. It didn’t matter that we were the number one band in the U.S.A. and had tons of money. We needed to be ahead, stay steady, and be smart.
Peter got in an accident.
Peter’s plane crashed into the water.
No one found the plane.
Or Peter.
Life’s to short to live wisely... So live dangerously.
XXX
So here I am its Wednesday... at least I think it’s Wednesday?
Oh shit what day is it?
No...No I know its Wednesday.
"What day is it?" I ask, not feeling a bit of modesty for myself. I’m standing here one of my hands holding up my bra front while my other hand is fumbling at my back and I’m just beginning to realize that my bra is actually broke! So I settled for both hands on both boobs, leaving my bra straps to hang limply at my sides.
"Merde!" I used the French term for shit thinking maybe they didn’t know French.
They did.
The man with the velvet voice coughed into his hand and hid back a smile while the man next to him tapped on his head, making the men laugh.
"I’m not fucking retarded you spaz!" I told him darkly.
"Excuse me?" velvet testosterone man said.
"Nothing." I mumbled "God!" I puffed out a breath. "Just what day is this?" The last words that tumbled out of my mouth came out as a hiss, making the men step back.
"She took the Lords name in vane." A man said stepping forward with his sword raised, his hands shaping the cross over his body.
"She’s half naked" another man... man? I tilted my head to the side. The guy looked more like a woman than a man... but hey I wouldn’t scream if he... maybe she wouldn’t touch me.
The men moved towards me again, this time velvet, testosterone man moved with them.
"MERDE!" I screeched as someone grabbed my bra out of my hands.
This time modesty wasn’t dead and I crouched down at the waist, my hands covering but not completely hiding.
Someone was speaking fluent French on my right and I turned to see a tiny little man holding my bra up in the air giving it praises and kissing it after each one. "Give that back, you whore!" I yelled at him lunging and forgetting that I didn’t have a top on.
I wrestled it out of his hands my boobs hanging in his face the whole time. The pervert of a Frenchmen would reach up to touch my breasts and I’d end up punching him in the nose, and getting that much closer to rescuing my bra.
After a few more punches and a lot more groping I wrestled my bra free and put it around my boobs, fumbling to tie it in the back.
I got it!
"Thank you!" I said bowing at the gaping mouths and stunned faces "I’ll be here all night!" I turned around and began walking away from the group. There was an opening in the mass of bodies and I stepped toward it intending to leave when someone stepped in front of me their arms coming around my body and rubbing my back.
It wasn’t until then that I realized I needed a hug, and that I’d been so cold. But that smell—I knew it.
"Where are you going Adalyn-ice?" I knew that voice. But no it wasn’t possible. That voice had been dead for over a year. "You just got here."
I looked up into the eyes of my dead drummer. The eyes of my dead fiancé. The eyes of my dead would-have-been lover.
"P-peter?" I said stretching a hand up to touch his face. Just when I was about to touch his jaw his eyes went cool, and blank. He let go of me.
"Peter!" a woman’s voice yelled. "Peter where’d you go?" a gorgeous, petite blonde woman came running, from the woods in front of me.
"Over here love!" peter yelled.
Love? He used to call me love.
"Adalyn..." he whispered just before the woman came forward and linked her arm through his. "Adalyn," he said my name more loudly. "I would like you to meet Lady Jessica... my fiancé. Jessica this is Lady Adalyn Richards."
I whirled away from him immediately my heart breaking...fucking again!
First he was dead.
Now he’s not dead.
First I was his ‘fiancé’, and then he died.
Now this bitch is his ‘fiancé’, and he wasn’t DEAD!
I needed to hit something.
I took a deep breath. I needed to cut something off. Specifically in Peter’s nether regions.
I turned back towards him. Spotted his sword. "Give me your sword Peter." I said acidly. My eyes black flame.
"Adalyn-ice..." Peter began.
"She’s dead. Give me your sword Peter it’s the least you could shitting do, seeing as your not dead!" men gasped and stepped forward—protecting—in front of him. But surprisingly velvet, testosterone stayed by my side. His body in a protecting stance behind me, his hand at the small of my back.
Peter looked viscidly at velvet’s arm, but handed the sword over to me.
I grabbed it noticing the heavy weight but thanking myself for taking medieval sword lessons. Fricken twenty pound claymores. I stalked off into the forest and cleaved the first thickest tree in half, making it fall perilously close to my body.
"Ice…" peter said.
"SHUT UP!" I yelled at him, then threw his sword into the woods, and then flopped down on the ground and burst into tears.
"Adalyn," He said walking towards me, crouching down, and reaching out a hand.
I cringed away. "Don’t touch me!" I whispered through tears.
"Don’t touch her Peter." Velvet, testosterone said coming to crouch down beside me and stretching out his arms, I went into them completely uncaring.
He lifted me easily off the ground and carried me toward the watching men.
My bra broke again.
"Merde!" I said again.
Velvet laughed and rubbed his hand over my back.
Peter cursed, and walked ahead of us giving orders.
Lady Jessica-I sneered to myself-screeched and ran to catch up to him.
I sighed, and then smiled into velvet, testosterones neck. He was really strong.
God he was gorgeous.
Screw Peter. Velvet, testosterone was all I needed.
Life was to short to live wisely... but you shouldn’t live this dangerously.