AI - She's A Rich Girl
She's A Rich Girl
american idol. chris richardson/blake lewis, ft. antonella barba. 1129 words. R.
“She’s totally into you, man,” Blake said one night when they were alone and Chris’ fingers were fiddling with Blake’s zipper.
There was something about Antonella Barba that made Blake want to punch her in the face.
Common sense held him back from doing so while confusion took over instead because he’d never really been one to face physical confrontation. Mocking, teasing, and goading were all things Blake was familiar and capable of, but he usually left punching and knockouts to the other guy.
The last time he’d felt this much anger bubble inside his chest was back in third grade during his first and only fight when he couldn’t punch Ashley Spencer because she was a girl, even though she punched him first in the stomach for his relentless teasing.
Blake felt the ghost of Ashley’s tiny, clenched fist in his gut as he watched Antonella sitting next to Chris, who was fiddling with something on the keyboard. He seemed blissfully unaware of the adoring looks she kept shooting him and Blake felt licks of jealousy run up his spine when he saw the way her hands lingered over Chris’ bicep and hand and wherever else her fingers trailed. It was obvious she was infatuated, but Chris refused to believe it.
“She’s totally into you, man,” Blake said one night when they were alone and Chris’ fingers were fiddling with Blake’s zipper.
“Huh?” Chris asked distractedly and Blake involuntarily felt a shiver skitter down his arms at the feeling of the other man’s warm breath on his neck. “Who?”
“Anton…jesus,” Blake gritted his teeth when Chris teasingly wrapped one finger at a time around his erection. “Uh…Antonella. She wants to…fuck…jump your bones.”
Chris stopped moving his hand and kept his fingers tight and together while he looked up into Blake’s eyes and raised his eyebrow in a manner that made Blake wish he’d never said anything in the first place. He tried lifting his hips up in protest, but Chris used his elbow to leverage his weight on Blake’s hips and make him stop wiggling.
“Does it fucking look like I’m into Antonella?”
“Well…can’t say I blame her.”
Chris rolled his eyes and to Blake’s relief, started twisting his fingers in a way that had him throwing his head back and gasping obscenities and Chris over and over again.
Later when they were naked and swathed in blankets, Blake broached the subject again; he tried to keep his tone light and jokey, but Chris left the bed anyway and roughly pulled on his jeans.
“I can’t believe you’re still on that, especially after…” Chris paused, waving his hand over the bed. “this.”
“I don’t exactly hear you deny it,” Blake replied and felt his insides cringe as the sheer stupidity of what he was saying became materialized in his head.
“You know nothing is going on between me and her.”
“Yeah, well you might want to clue her in on that too.”
Blake watched as Chris finished sliding the zipper up his jeans and then wordlessly, the other man left the room while shutting the door roughly. He heard the sound of the shower blast on from the bathroom down the hall and Blake sighed as he rested his head against the headboard and slid down to the warm pillow waiting beneath him.
A few days later, Blake couldn’t stand it anymore. It wasn’t that they weren’t on speaking terms; more like polite awkwardness to show that everything was okay when they both knew that was the furthest thing from the truth. Blake thought that if he had to hear Chris murmur “sorry” one more time for accidentally touching him, he might just have to say peace out to Seacrest and figure out another way to break into the music business.
Blake was half-entertaining that thought when he saw Antonella flounce over to Chris for what was probably the third time in the fifteen minutes since they’d all arrived. Chris was behind the keyboard again and Blake was sitting across the room, giving them plenty of distance. But as far away as he was, Blake noticed how visibly Chris blanched at the way Antonella’s hand smoothed over his shoulder.
He easily bounced up out of his chair and practically glided across the room before deciding whether this was a good idea or not.
“…so I was thinking, maybe sometime you and I,” Antonella was saying, twirling her manicured finger through her hair and he realized that he arrived just in time.
“HEY Antonella!” Blake exclaimed, his voice booming slightly louder than he intended. She had jumped a little and he saw out of the corner of his eye the way that Sligh and Phil were looking at him strangely before going back to their discussion.
“Oh! Hi Blake,” Antonella replied, doing her best to hide the distaste in her voice. “Do you need something?”
“Nah, not really,” He said, using a couple of fingers to idly play a few keys on the instrument. “How are you, Chris?”
“Fine, Blake,” Chris answered, an amused grin playing on his lips; the first Blake had seen intentionally thrown his way since their argument.
“So Antonella, there’s a mirror open by the makeup table,” Blake said casually, turning his attention back on her. “You might want to see to that.”
Antonella looked at him as though she couldn’t figure out whether he was kidding or not. She tried looking at Chris for help, but he busied himself in grabbing for his sheet music and making a big show out of being interested in that instead.
“Whatever,” Antonella muttered as she spun on her heel to leave them alone. Blake took personal satisfaction in watching her make a beeline toward the makeup table as he heard Chris snicker across from him.
“Whatever,” Blake mocked as he made his way around the keyboard and sat next to Chris on the long bench. “What are you working on?”
“Nothing, just messing around,” Chris answered and Blake couldn’t tell if he was purposely avoiding eye contact or not by the way he was moving his fingers slowly over the keys and the sounds they made punched at the silence between the two of them. But then Chris shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “Sorry, man.”
“No, I’m sorry,” Blake said quietly. Another moment of silence and then he brought his hands up to the lower end of the keyboard and helped Chris figure out the melody to whatever he was working on.
Antonella was eliminated a week later and Blake kept a smug smirk on his face in watching Chris pry her arms out of their goodbye hug at the going away party that night.
Gina plopped down next to him on the couch and took a sip of her drink before saying anything. “Are you really that happy she’s leaving?”
“You have no idea.”
american idol. chris richardson/blake lewis, ft. antonella barba. 1129 words. R.
“She’s totally into you, man,” Blake said one night when they were alone and Chris’ fingers were fiddling with Blake’s zipper.
There was something about Antonella Barba that made Blake want to punch her in the face.
Common sense held him back from doing so while confusion took over instead because he’d never really been one to face physical confrontation. Mocking, teasing, and goading were all things Blake was familiar and capable of, but he usually left punching and knockouts to the other guy.
The last time he’d felt this much anger bubble inside his chest was back in third grade during his first and only fight when he couldn’t punch Ashley Spencer because she was a girl, even though she punched him first in the stomach for his relentless teasing.
Blake felt the ghost of Ashley’s tiny, clenched fist in his gut as he watched Antonella sitting next to Chris, who was fiddling with something on the keyboard. He seemed blissfully unaware of the adoring looks she kept shooting him and Blake felt licks of jealousy run up his spine when he saw the way her hands lingered over Chris’ bicep and hand and wherever else her fingers trailed. It was obvious she was infatuated, but Chris refused to believe it.
“She’s totally into you, man,” Blake said one night when they were alone and Chris’ fingers were fiddling with Blake’s zipper.
“Huh?” Chris asked distractedly and Blake involuntarily felt a shiver skitter down his arms at the feeling of the other man’s warm breath on his neck. “Who?”
“Anton…jesus,” Blake gritted his teeth when Chris teasingly wrapped one finger at a time around his erection. “Uh…Antonella. She wants to…fuck…jump your bones.”
Chris stopped moving his hand and kept his fingers tight and together while he looked up into Blake’s eyes and raised his eyebrow in a manner that made Blake wish he’d never said anything in the first place. He tried lifting his hips up in protest, but Chris used his elbow to leverage his weight on Blake’s hips and make him stop wiggling.
“Does it fucking look like I’m into Antonella?”
“Well…can’t say I blame her.”
Chris rolled his eyes and to Blake’s relief, started twisting his fingers in a way that had him throwing his head back and gasping obscenities and Chris over and over again.
Later when they were naked and swathed in blankets, Blake broached the subject again; he tried to keep his tone light and jokey, but Chris left the bed anyway and roughly pulled on his jeans.
“I can’t believe you’re still on that, especially after…” Chris paused, waving his hand over the bed. “this.”
“I don’t exactly hear you deny it,” Blake replied and felt his insides cringe as the sheer stupidity of what he was saying became materialized in his head.
“You know nothing is going on between me and her.”
“Yeah, well you might want to clue her in on that too.”
Blake watched as Chris finished sliding the zipper up his jeans and then wordlessly, the other man left the room while shutting the door roughly. He heard the sound of the shower blast on from the bathroom down the hall and Blake sighed as he rested his head against the headboard and slid down to the warm pillow waiting beneath him.
A few days later, Blake couldn’t stand it anymore. It wasn’t that they weren’t on speaking terms; more like polite awkwardness to show that everything was okay when they both knew that was the furthest thing from the truth. Blake thought that if he had to hear Chris murmur “sorry” one more time for accidentally touching him, he might just have to say peace out to Seacrest and figure out another way to break into the music business.
Blake was half-entertaining that thought when he saw Antonella flounce over to Chris for what was probably the third time in the fifteen minutes since they’d all arrived. Chris was behind the keyboard again and Blake was sitting across the room, giving them plenty of distance. But as far away as he was, Blake noticed how visibly Chris blanched at the way Antonella’s hand smoothed over his shoulder.
He easily bounced up out of his chair and practically glided across the room before deciding whether this was a good idea or not.
“…so I was thinking, maybe sometime you and I,” Antonella was saying, twirling her manicured finger through her hair and he realized that he arrived just in time.
“HEY Antonella!” Blake exclaimed, his voice booming slightly louder than he intended. She had jumped a little and he saw out of the corner of his eye the way that Sligh and Phil were looking at him strangely before going back to their discussion.
“Oh! Hi Blake,” Antonella replied, doing her best to hide the distaste in her voice. “Do you need something?”
“Nah, not really,” He said, using a couple of fingers to idly play a few keys on the instrument. “How are you, Chris?”
“Fine, Blake,” Chris answered, an amused grin playing on his lips; the first Blake had seen intentionally thrown his way since their argument.
“So Antonella, there’s a mirror open by the makeup table,” Blake said casually, turning his attention back on her. “You might want to see to that.”
Antonella looked at him as though she couldn’t figure out whether he was kidding or not. She tried looking at Chris for help, but he busied himself in grabbing for his sheet music and making a big show out of being interested in that instead.
“Whatever,” Antonella muttered as she spun on her heel to leave them alone. Blake took personal satisfaction in watching her make a beeline toward the makeup table as he heard Chris snicker across from him.
“Whatever,” Blake mocked as he made his way around the keyboard and sat next to Chris on the long bench. “What are you working on?”
“Nothing, just messing around,” Chris answered and Blake couldn’t tell if he was purposely avoiding eye contact or not by the way he was moving his fingers slowly over the keys and the sounds they made punched at the silence between the two of them. But then Chris shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “Sorry, man.”
“No, I’m sorry,” Blake said quietly. Another moment of silence and then he brought his hands up to the lower end of the keyboard and helped Chris figure out the melody to whatever he was working on.
Antonella was eliminated a week later and Blake kept a smug smirk on his face in watching Chris pry her arms out of their goodbye hug at the going away party that night.
Gina plopped down next to him on the couch and took a sip of her drink before saying anything. “Are you really that happy she’s leaving?”
“You have no idea.”