Song Short: Fvck Somebody

this new series, Song Short, will be updated on the third Friday of each month! each short (~1.5-2k) is a queer snippet based around some of my favorite songs. these are written in a one hour sprint and never really edited, so please consider forgiving typos. join my patreon to suggest songs and let me know what you think of these shorts!

today’s short is based on The Wreck’s “Fvck Somebody” from their album Infinitely Ordinary. Listen here: YouTube Link and read below. cw for: breakups, mentions of alcohol

With a burst of rolling nausea, Jolie plastered on a smile and nodded along to Geoff’s loud, too-close voice. She fought against the urge to step away — or to lift her foot to step away and instead break into a sprint down the street, and never, ever look back.

It’s just the heat, she thought to herself. Gritting her teeth, she forced down the wave of annoyance, and kept walking.

Beside her, Geoff kept pace. He was telling a story, something about his friends and the band they went to see last weekend, but Jolie wasn’t listening. She couldn’t hear him, not with the whirling of blood in her ears, the loud city streets a blurring soundtrack of cars and people. It was all just a block of sound that pounded like her pulse inside her skull.

It’s just the heat. It was just that it was hot as hell out today and, once again, Geoff had them lost in the city, on their way to a coffee shop she only faintly believed existed; and, as always, Geoff didn’t mind at all. He didn’t mind the heat or the city noises or being lost. He was just happily chatting away, and through the nearly suffocating annoyance, guilt choked Jolie.

It was the city’s fault. It was the heat. It was…

“ —and then I told him, I told Al, dude, that’s not your boss!” Geoff burst into laughter, hands slapping against his thighs as he chuckled.

It was Geoff.

“My God,” she said accidentally. Her eyes widened and she locked her jaw at Geoff’s immediate sobering.

“What?” he asked, obliviously, and Jolie fought against the urge to scream.

“Hot,” she said instead, through her gritted teeth and locked jaw. It hurt to say, her body twisting uncomfortably tight in order to hold in the frustration.

Geoff nodded, blessedly silent, and kept walking beside her. They stopped at a crosswalk. The red hand blinked in rhythm with the headache behind Jolie’s eyes.

“What do you want?” he asked, and Jolie sighed. I wanna go somewhere without you.

“What’s up?” she replied instead, forcing a smile.

Geoff smiled at her and, as always, the guilt tampered her urge to run. “The coffee shop. What do you want?”

I wanna love someone who’s not you.

“I dunno, maybe, like, an iced coffee?”

He shook his head. “You should get their cold brew.”

“Fine, Geoff, cold brew’s good, too.”

The figure blinked at them; it was their turn to cross the street. A car still ran the light, honked at them, and Geoff and Jolie lifted their middle fingers in unison. She managed a real smile then.

It wasn’t Geoff’s fault that his voice grated against her or that his laugh made her want to cringe. It wasn’t Geoff’s fault that, for reasons she couldn’t even begin to understand, she had fallen completely and utterly out of love with him.

It was a new revelation. They’d been together almost three years; for the last year and a half, she’d felt differently, but it had been impossible to pinpoint. She couldn’t tell if she was in hell or if she was just bored.

“Just a few more blocks,” he said cheerfully. “Hey, did I tell you about that work dinner? Okay, so—”

Jolie knew she should break up with him. She knew it was wrong to stay with him when she actually couldn’t string together a single conversation with him without yawning. She knew it wasn’t nice, wasn’t fair, wasn’t good. But… well, she wanted to get out without it being her fault.

She tried nodding along to Geoff’s story. She tried to not scream every time they got held up at a crosswalk. She tried not to absolutely lose her shit every time sweat dripped into her eyes, stinging terribly. She tried really hard to be the Jolie that Geoff loved because she never knew when it would be the last time she had to pretend.

She was in a terrible mood, though, and she only succeeded about twenty percent at these things.

“It’s around the corner! Come on, Jole, you’re going to—” he stopped short, a crease between his brows. “Oh, shoot. They’re closed on Mondays. Right. Al did say that.”

She tried. She really, really, truly tried.

Jolie let out a scream. It was pure frustration, torn from her gut and lungs in a burst of air, and she felt dizzy with it. When she stopped screaming, her fists shaking beside her body, she saw black spots across her vision and swayed.

Geoff caught her before she fell, his mouth still agape, and his eyes wide and round.

“Um… the hell, Jole?”

Jolie jolted, tearing herself away from Geoff. She almost fell again but a withering scowl kept him away.

His lips were drawn together, hands raised like she was a frightened animal, and for once, for once, the guilt was smaller than the absolute exasperation.

“It’s closed! It’s closed! It’s been an hour of walking, Geoff!” she knew she sounded hysterical. She knew that she was absolutely throwing a fit. But the words felt too big and she thought she would retch or choke if she didn’t let them out. “How could you not check! Or remember! It’s so inconsiderate!”

“You could have called,” Geoff protested. It was a feeble reply and if she was less hot, or less tired, or less her, she might have let it go. Instead, it only fueled her — rage so righteous it felt cool, icing down her overheard body.

“Me? Me!? Geoff, I swear to God, I wish— I wish— I wish—” 

The bewildered expression was giving way to his own annoyance. He threw his hands up and narrowed his eyes. “What? What do you wish?”

“I wish that you would fuck somebody!” She cried.

She sounded ridiculous. His jaw had fallen and he looked at her as if she had grown a new head.

But now that she had started, she couldn’t stop. “Yeah, you know what, fuck you, Geoff! I wish you would fuck somebody. Steal my money! Break my heart!”

Now, finally, finally, after months and years and a lifetime of biting her tongue, Jolie was finally free. She planted her feet on the hot sidewalk, the heatwaves of the summer blistering in the air around them, and she grabbed his hands. Imploringly, she said, “Say you never ever loved me.”

Geoff stared at her.

For a long, breathless moment, where she felt the fight drain from her and the heat return, he stared at her.

Then, god damn him, he scoffed and tore his hands away. He glared at her and she felt a surge of hope. 

“What? Now you’re pissed because I’m too nice? Because I love you? Jesus, Jolie, what I wouldn’t give to be so lucky!”

Jolie deflated. She buried her face in her hands, furious at the irritated tears prickling her eyes, furious at Geoff for not being more of an asshole, furious at herself for being too much of one.

From her palms, she begged, “Let me off the hook.”

When she finally pulled her face up, Geoff was sitting on the sidewalk. His long legs were half up, his arms resting on his propped up knees, and he was staring at her like he had never seen her before.

Maybe he hadn’t.

Jolie should go sit by him. The very idea of it made her skin itch, though, and she straightened her spine instead. She swallowed hard.

The guilt was coming back. The burst of overheated, under caffeinated adrenaline was fading, and she was left as she always was — restless between this is fine and life is too short.

He looked sad. She wished she could say something kind now. Just once, for him, she wanted to figure out what she was supposed to say. She felt like her whole life was spent stifling saying the things she wanted to say, so what came out was strangled and wrong.

Geoff was her first love.

It was just… she didn’t want him to her last.

She looked away. The streets were busy, as they always were, but people were giving them a wide berth. A woman with a double stroller pushed the babies into the street to avoid coming near them. Jolie wondered just how loudly she had screamed.

“You really wish I would?” Geoff said, furrowing his brow as if he was detangling a particularly complex puzzle.

Jolie didn’t trust her voice. She nodded instead.

He looked at her with quirked eyebrow. “You wish I’d fuck somebody?”

Her face heated. She hoped the sunburnt skin hid her blush well enough.

“It might not have been me at my most eloquent,” she allowed, and then lowered herself to the sidewalk. She sat right at the edge, near the curb, so they were face to face. Equals, but not side by side. She inhaled and for the first time all day, she felt like it was actually filling her lungs.

“Just… can you tell me why?” Geoff said.

Jolie didn’t want to. She wanted to curl her arms around herself, zip her lips closed. Still, when she looked at him, she did wish she could love him. She could try. She could try to explain how it felt, every day, suffocating and screaming.

“When you said, ‘let’s settle down’... it felt… like a downfall.”

She lowered her gaze to the sidewalk when she heard him inhale sharply. Maybe that was cowardly. Maybe she was a coward. She didn’t mind it half as much as she thought she should.

“Well, okay then,” Geoff said, and Jolie buried her face in her hands again to hide her smile.

When Jolie looked up again, Geoff was gone. She looked both ways, craning her neck, but he was nowhere to be seen. For the first time, she was actually alone; not just physically, but actually, and she felt like she could float, she was so light with the knowledge. 

There would be consequences to this — a lease to break, furniture to debate, a life to unravel. But Jolie didn’t care. She didn’t care at all. She would deal with that later. For now, she had the whole day to herself, and nothing holding her back.

Grinning, Jolie lifted herself from the ground and exhaled slowly. Then, she asked herself:

What do you want?