Power Plays: The Todd Perspective 1

*Y'all, I feel like a real sicko every time I publish another section of this story. Folks really hate these characters! Or so I say to myself, full of vicious glee. However, there isn't much point in posting if nobody wants to follow the story; how unlikeable can Jesse, Chrisette, and Todd truly be before people stop clicking on Stay Away from Her altogether? I think I'm about to find out, because Jesse's going to be put through the wringer right when he thinks he won. Also there's barely any sex for at least a couple of chapters which again is not why anyone reads erotica. Trying to get your rocks off and instead you get a first-person description of a panic attack? No thanks. Down vote.

To make sense of Todd's arc, ever so often I'd write out a conversation that he'd have when Jesse wasn't around. He's somewhere between Neutral Evil and Lawful Evil, though I maintain that people (and therefore well-rounded characters) rarely think of themselves as bad people, even when they doing heinous things. Writing Todd's perspective has helped me refine the main story so that *you can pick up all the things Jesse misses.

There are spoilers in here if *you haven't read the 5th chapter yet, but I'm clearly not worried about anyone finding this blog. The Todd Perspective begins a month before the main story.

*Still nobody. I can see the blog data and it's very funny.

August

"You can do better," I reply honestly.

Chrisette already looks like she regrets the question. "You only say that when you're single," she retorts.

"Even his name sounds like Douchebag McFratty. If he calls me ‘bro’ one more time I will choke him out."

She laughs, "It's not that bad."

"Yeah it is."

Jesse's cute, but he looks like the guys I used to fool around with in college. He has a classic jock physique, is accessibly good-looking, loves a backwards baseball cap and probably talks about crossfit a lot. I never got to know Jesse because he literally didn't seem worth my time. Now they’re engaged, and I really might have missed my chance with Chrissy.

"Are you sure he has a degree?"

Chrissy shoves me playfully. "He's not stupid, Todd, he's just bad at—"

"The English language," I finish for her.

She rolls her pretty eyes. “There’s a lot to be said for thinking more than you speak.”

“Does he, though? Think?”

“Yes!” Chrissy laughs. “God, I shouldn’t have asked you.”

September

I fuck him anyway. Partly I do so because I want to take him down a notch. Mostly I fuck Jesse because it’s the only alternative to pounding his face in, given how I’m sitting on him and full of adrenaline. He gets hard so fast. I wonder if Jesse’s just super responsive, or if Chrisette has been withholding sex and therefore her boyfriend is running hot. Perhaps he’s bi, or gay but incredibly repressed. He also had a bigger cock than I thought, which is a pleasant surprise.

Jesse has a conscience. He treats me like the plague whenever we’re in proximity, and Chrisette enthuses for weeks about how good the makeup sex and apology gestures have been. “He’s so sweet,” she says all the time. Jesse brought me breakfast in bed. Jesse did all the laundry again. Jesse got me a massage.

“He’s probably hiding something,” I reply, but she laughs and hits me.

“I’m taken, Todd,” she reminds me in a playful singsong, the kind that makes me want to kiss her. It’s always like this: I’m dating, Chrissy is single, then I break up with my partner right as Chrissy starts a new relationship. Nobody lasted as long as Jesse has, and I still don’t get why. Aside from his crushing sense of guilt, what does he have that I don’t?

Sasha is the only person who’s honest with me. “You just don’t like it that he put a ring on it. In your mind you and Chrisette have been saving each other for when you were ready to settle down. She got ready first and wasn't going to wait around for you to figure yourself out.”

She’s not wrong, but I still respond. “Is that so?”

Sasha pulls her curly red hair over her shoulder before she picks up her wine glass. “Don’t do that when you know I’m right.”

That’s the night Sasha and I hook up. She’s as self-aware in bed as she is in conversation, and tells me exactly what she wants. She also doesn’t mind me telling her what I want. So when she says, “I’m going home tonight, but we should do this more often,” I mean it when I tell her I’ll call her tomorrow.

Chrissy joins us for brunch one Sunday so Sasha and I can tell her we’re together. Three mimosas in, pink-faced Chrissy is highly vocal about how happy she is that her two besties are dating. “Oh my god, you guys are so cute together,” she repeats.

Sasha gives me a bemused look; Chrissy’s clearly a little upset.

“I wish Jesse weren’t so antisocial,” Chrissy continues. “Then we could double date.”

“Jesse punched my boyfriend in the face,” Sasha says evenly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I kicked his ass,” I remind her, putting my arm around her shoulders. “He won’t try that again.”

With a wave of her hand, Chrissy makes a dismissive raspberry. She makes an adorable drunk. “Guys get over that shit as soon as the fight is over. It's all, pow pow pow!” Chrissy punches the air over her plate. “And then you're like, ‘Respect, bro,’ and hug it out.”

Sasha laughs as I shake my head.

“That's not always how it works,” I say. Not since I fucked the cum out of him. He seemed to really like it rough.

“Jesse is social, just not with us,” Sasha says. “I think he’s trying to be respectful of your friend group. It’s sweet.”

I look at her. Does she want to fuck Jesse? Too bad, I tapped it first.

Chrissy waves that thought away. “Nah, Jesse’s a complete introvert. It’s so cute; he looks like a total frat boy but he’s actually this artistic dork who would be happy if everyone but me, like, disappeared from the face of the earth.”

November

There was never a plan to keep fucking Jesse. He wasn't enough of anything to be worth thinking about. Not hot enough, not smart enough, not strong enough…but when I saw him in the theatre lobby I knew it wasn't over yet. Jesse clearly still beat himself up for having sex with me, but somehow I was the real bad guy. Juvenile asshole. 

He also wants what I do to him, even if he doesn't want me.

May

“Why are you still with him?” I ask.

Chrisette giggles. “He’s so fuckable! Like, he gets so worked up, and he's so possessive but he knows that he shouldn't be…Jesse's whole face is an open book. He's so easy to manipulate.”

I look down at her. “That's why you’re marrying him? Because you can control him?”

Chrissy shakes her head. “No, but that wasn't the question.”

“That's still kind of cold.”

“He's sweet and reliable,” she says with a shrug. “I know he won't leave me, and at some point I'm going to really need that.” Chrissy’s tone is affectionate, but something rubs me the wrong way.

“You could just get a dog.”

She hits me with a laugh. “A dog can’t bring me breakfast in bed. No, I choose every day to love him, and he shows me that he loves me, too.”

November

I wake up with a wicked headache and the urge to vomit. “Oh god,” I hurl into the toilet, shaking as my body tries to rid itself of all the shit I put into it yesterday. Fucking open bars. Sasha walks in with a towel wrapped around her hair and nothing else on. She perches on the bathtub for a moment and observes.

“Do you need something from me?” Sasha asks in that way that means she thinks I need to suffer the consequences. When she’s hungover she wants to be left alone.

“Empathy,” I groan, and she laughs and pats my back.

“I'll go find you some painkillers,” she says, “but we need to check out in thirty minutes.

For the first time in this fucked up affair I might have done something seriously unforgivable. Sasha would leave me. I'd lose Chrisette. And goddam Jesse…was sober. That dummy didn't have the wherewithal to not have sex with me on his wedding night. Because he fucking likes me. There's no other explanation. I, on the other hand, had been ready to fuck whoever opened that door.

My stomach heaves again, but I already feel better.