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The following is a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

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I'll do anything for a smile,
holding you 'til our time is done

By BornInHeels

 


She was a sweet little southern girl from Tennessee, with a rebellious side. She loved the country side. She worshiped James Dean, her all time favorite singer was Elvis Presley, and her all time favorite song was “American Girl” by Tom Petty. Her eyes were chocolate brown. Her hair was black with blue and purple streaks that framed her face. She had tattoos up and down her arms, love old cars, and had a passion for cosmetology.

He was a city boy born and raised. He grew up in Milwaukee, he had a twin brother, and played in a band. His band was not only his life, but it helped pay the bills. Drumming and art were his only passions. Until he met her.

Andrew “The Butcher” Mrotek met Chelsea at a salon in New York. She had just moved there. “Are you open?” Were his first words to her.

“Yes sir.” She said with her southern drawl. Her voice made him feel warm. It reminded him of drinking lemonade on a hot summer afternoon after bike riding through the outskirts of Milwaukee. “What would you like done today?” She asked and then smiled, oh, that perfect smile, her teeth were white and perfectly straight.

“Um just…a…trim.” He managed to stutter out. Looking at her made him speechless.

“I'm Chelsea by the way.” She said as she combed through his hair.

“Andrew, but you can call me Andy.”

Their short lived romance began that day. She didn't care how tacky it might have looked to her new boss to get a guys phone number, she knew she needed to know him. She knew he was the kind of guy she wanted to meet when she vowed she would find her future husband in New York City.

They spent their afternoons together in thrift stores and used record shops looking for collectors items. They would drive around listening to Johnny Cash discussing what was actually the best Johnny Cash song ever. And fighting over if his cover of Hurt was amazing. Chelsea thought it was the best cover ever done, hands down. The Butcher strongly disagreed. They would make each other mix cd's and name them off the wall things like “Banana Pancakes” or “Multiple Songs That Are Better Than Anything Metallica put out.” He would paint pictures that she proudly displayed anywhere she could. They would make love over and over and over again and every time it felt new. They would always fall asleep holding each other and listening to The Beatles on vinyl. Which according to her was “the only way to listen to The Beatles.”

The first time he introduced Chelsea to his band the guys all saw and commented on how she was perfect for their favorite drummer “The Butcher.” “Maybe Ashlee won't think we are gay lovers anymore.” Adam Siska teased.

“Well I don't know who this Ashlee girl is,” Chelsea replied, “but she clearly doesn't know a man when she meets one!”

The Butcher and Chelsea were madly in love. Everyone could see the passion they shared for each other. Bill even once commented that Christine was jealous. That is why when he proposed to her after being with her less than a year no one told him it was a stupid idea.

They had a backyard wedding at her parents home in Tennessee. They owned an acre of land, so there was plenty of room for the small amount of friends and family that were on the guest list. Chelsea's sister was the Maid of Honor and Adam Siska was the Best Man. She wore a t-length wedding dress with some old fashioned lace that was used from her grandmothers wedding dress, she wore flats, and her hair was curled with a pompadour in the front. She refused to wear a tiara or veil, so she put a red rose in her hair. Their first dance was to “Can't Help Falling In Love” by Elvis.

And neither of them could help falling in love with each other. They were married for two years.

Until that day. The day. The day she died in his arms.

He found out later on it was due to a massive aneurism that popped. She had been to the doctor's office plenty of times but they never found it. She was only 25.

Without her he felt as if a part of him died. The day of her funeral, everyone went to the reception and he sat by her grave and wept. He was never the kind of guy to cry, but she brought out something in him that no one else could. He stayed with her parents for a few weeks after her funeral. He was afraid to go back to the loft they lived in. He didn't want to be alone and constantly reminded of her.

But he knew he had to go back to the real world. He knew it is what she would have wanted. So he took the drive back up to New York City and searched for a new apartment. If he was going to start a life with out her, it needed to be in a new home. He didn't know if he could survive to live in the place where he started, and ended, his life with her. He quickly found a place and sold his own. As he was packing he stumbled upon “Multiple Songs That Are Better Than Anything Metallica put out,” he smiled put it in the CD player, and hit play. The first song that filled the room was Roy Orbison's Pretty Woman. It was defiantly a mix made by Chelsea.

The Butcher still remembers how he felt the first time he heard her voice, the way her smile sent him to another planet, and he couldn't forget the sound of her laugh. When his memory of her chocolate eyes, and her black blue and purple hair fades he looks at the photo of her that sits by his bedside.

He knows he will always miss her, but he knows he has to try to live without her. Because if she was here and saw him pouting she would laugh and tell him to “Get offa his ass and live life. There is no reason to mope around.”

A/N: My LiveJournal friends have read this. Sorry for the repeat guys.

 

The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

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