Rest Your Head, I'm Permanent - Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Some real people, fake story
David's POV
Quietly sliding the key into the doorknob, I forced my body into the frame until it gave way, exposing my poorly lit living room. I felt confused, but I knew that I had just made it all the way back home from the bar. Or as I like to call it, hell on earth. I figured that I may have had one to many sips of Grey Goose, which probably caused my slight confusion. Catching a glimpse at my watch, it had just turned 3:01 am. Laying my jacket over the back of the couch, I heard something, or someone.
"Damn baby, I tried to wait up for you. I'm so sorry." The girl's body somewhat hidden by the shadows. She rose from the sofa and wrapped her arms around my neck, her sweet vanilla scent exhilarated me.
"Come on, lets get to bed, I'm sure you're tired. She said, pulling me toward my bedroom. I didn't know her name. Hell, I didn't know her, at least I didn't think I did. However, she carried a familiar aura. I noticed that she was wearing one of my t-shirts. It was a little too big for her, dangling from her shoulders, hugging her breasts lightly. She turned around, lifting my shirt off and throwing it into the blackness of a corner and then went for my belt. After a bit of help, she had gotten me all the way down to my blue boxer-briefs. Biting her lip, she had a pleased look on her face, like she would have been happy if we stayed like this forever. Damnit, why couldn't I remember her name? I thought to myself as we both climbed into my bed. The heat between us rapidly increased as space diminished, my hands traveling the length of her thick thighs.
"David!" I was woken up by some figure shaking me violently. I looked around, searching for that girl but the sunlight stung my iris'
"Jesus Christ David, wake up already." I blinked and rubbed my eyes, trying to focus on the person in my flat.
"How do you live like this?" I realized that my mom was rummaging through my stuff, picking up a mixture of dirty and clean clothes, soda cans, and crossword puzzles off of the floor.
"I am 24 and in my apartment not 16 and living at home, the last time I checked mom." I said, slightly joking. I'd be the first one to admit, my whole apartment was a mess. It was only me around here, so I never worried about it too much. And if I ever got lucky enough to bring a girl back to my place, well just the idea of that made me laugh, causing my mother to turn back around.
"What's so funny? That you live in a pig sty?" She said, holding up a dirty sock and the remains of Buffalo Bill's Takeout, which from what I could remember, had to be at least a few weeks old since I couldn't recall when I had wings last.
"I know, I know!" I'm sorry." I snatched the container from her hands.
"Get dressed, quickly! We've got to get down to the stadium for your audition sometime today." She stumbled out of my room, closing the door behind her. Running my fingers through my hair, I couldn't remember when I had a shower last either, wasn't it just yesterday?
"Ma, I'm getting a shower first." I yelled at my door, looking around for a towel.
"Quickly! You've got thirty minutes." I heard her yell back.
Flicking on the bathroom light, I threw my towel on the floor and pulled the shower knob toward "warm", tossing my boxer-briefs in the direction of my clothes hamper, I stepped into the shower and washed up.
"It was all just a dream?" I asked myself, chuckling a bit. My luck, of course. I should have know, no female, besides my own mother, would ever step foot in apartment 9A. I pulled a sleeveless black & white argyle sweater over my black button-up. Most of my wardrobe consisted of black and white. Not that I didn't like colors, or anything. I was just a sweaty guy, no matter what I did, I always sweat like crazy. So I'd try to limit myself to dark monochromatic shirts, where it was easier to hide the sweat stains.
After gliding on a pair of grey jeans, I managed to styled my hair into a fohawk, letting my red/blond bangs fall upon my face.
"Whatcha thing?" I asked, parading around in the living room for my mom.
"I think you're gonna be late if you don't knock it off and just get in the car." I stuck my tongue out at her. No matter what age I really was, I was still a child at heart.
"Now!" She said, shoving me into the stairwell, locking the door behind her. I mocked her as I jumped down the stairs.
After eight hours of waiting, I was about to gouge my eyes out.
"Maaaa, Why didn't you let me grab a puzzle before we left?" I said with a fake frowning face.
"Because, you were taking forever." She replied, very matter-of-fact. "Maybe if you acted like your age, then I would have reminded you." I slumped back into my chair, looking around at everyone else in the room.
"Numbers 36210 to 36220, please make your way to the smaller waiting room." A voice over the intercom stated.
"Good luck, babe. I'm so proud of you!" My mom said, snapping me back into reality.
"Hmm?" I asked. I couldn't think straight, my mind was clouded, and of all days.
"They called you into the smaller waiting room." She replied.
"Oh, ok." I said, getting up and hugging my mom. "I love you."
"Love you too, now go get em." She said, wiping a tear off of her cheek. I turned on my heels and headed toward the smaller waiting room. I couldn't sit and watch her cry like that, it reminded me too much of all of the pain she has been through with my brother. I wish I could take away all of the pain from her, I wasn't sure how much more she could handle. Me on the other hand, I could still bottle it up deep down and look fine on the outside. Settling in another uncomfortable blue chair, I tried to push out all of my thoughts about everything. I needed to focus, just listen to the music.
I think I fell asleep from focusing too hard for a few minutes, until I was woken up.
"36214, you're next in line for your audition." I heard, realizing that they had called my number. I could feel the sweat beginning to moisten my skin and clothes, the butterflies began their dancing, and that egg sandwich I had for breakfast, I wasn't too sure if it was going to stay down. I hummed the part of the song I chose to sing over and over again in my head until I was told to enter the judging room, where my fate would be sealed.
Walking into the room, my palms clammed up, my throat tightened a bit. I didn't really have stage fright, at least I didn't think so. I had sung at local shows with my band for a few years now but, those small sets never had the possibility of changing my life forever, molding me into a pop-rock star.
"David Cook?" Paula asked.
"Yes, ma'am" I answered, hoping that I didn't look half as nervous as I felt.
"Are you the next American Idol?" Paula asked again.
"I think so, I really do." I lied. I lacked the confidence, I never felt like I was good enough for anything, let alone a television singing competition.
"Why?" She said. I was hoping she wouldn't want to go into this kind of detail. I just wanted to get the audition done and over with.
"Uh, I think I'm the next American Idol uhm, because I bring something a little different to the table. I'm versatile vocally, and uh I feel like I'm a pretty personable guy." I flashed a small smile, I was proud of how well I pulled that answer off.
"And what would your friends say about you entering American Idol?" Simon asked, reading off a paper, one of the generic questions.
"They obviously want the best for me, you know but..." I said, and I believed it. My friends and family always had my back when it came to music, they wanted me to go all the way, make it really far.
"No friends ever do." Simon snapped back, he was known for his snarky comments. Everyone in the room laughed it off, lessening some of the pressure I had felt earlier.
"David, what are you going to be singing?" Paula asked, moving the audition forward.
"I am going to be singing Livin' on a Prayer by Bon Jovi." I said. I felt confident about this song, me and my friends would always sit around and just burst out into song, this song was one of our most popular picks, so I had a lot of practice under my belt.
"Off you go." She replied. I took a deep breath in and told myself it was now or never.
"Tommy used to work on the docks
Union's been on strike, He's down on his luck.
It's tough, so tough.
Gina dreams of running away
When she cries in the night
Tommy whispers
Baby it's okay, someday." I exhaled, I had actually did it. Now I anticipated the results.
After a few minutes of listening to the feedback, I headed out toward Ryan and my mom. I had gotten the golden ticket to hollywood. My mother was more excited then I was, tears fell down her cheek once more, but I could bear to watch these tears, they were tears of joy not pain. After an extensively long day, I rested my head against the window of my mom's van as she drove me home. I told her I needed to lay down, that I didn't feel like celebrating tonight, I was too tired. The quiet in the car let me finally clear my head. Maybe my luck was turning around after all.