I do not own "I Get Off" and only use the lyrics for this story. Other than the lyrics everything else is my entirely own idea.

Caution: Mature content, implied sexual situations, and other adult content are included.

After each set of lyrics is stated know that the point of view is changed. (just a heads up)

You don't know that I know,

You watch me every night

And I can't resist the urge

To stand here in the light

My room was on the top floor of the apartment complex. The large windows were spread across the length of the living room to reveal white couches decorated with crimson pillows that stood out in contrast to the lack of color. White rugs were laid across the wood floor and various red paintings I had created lined the walls. It was normal for me to walk around in whatever type of apparel I chose. I didn't know that anybody could see so far up.

The apartment complex next door was like a twin to mine. The levels were the same and the architecture of the rooms was identical. As far I could tell no one had lived in the apartment across from mine in the other apartment complex since I had moved in. I had seen no one in the open windows, nor seen any type of furniture. Upon my return from work one day, that was different.

The living room had been decorated with dark plush leather couches and black rugs. A polar opposite room to mine had been outfitted. I found it quite interesting that for months no one had rented the apartment and now suddenly had. I wondered what type of person had moved in, but it didn't really matter. It wasn't as if I was searching for friend or anything of the sort.

I went about my business as normal. Thoughts about the other owner had slipped from my mind and it was almost completely forgotten. I came home from work as a secretary for a powerful company's director. Shopping, clubbing, and everything of the sort went normally for me. I had never even seen the other tenant.

I returned one night from work and set down my purse and bags to the side. I felt refreshed since I had finished a major project that I had been working on for months. A celebration was in order. Opening my white cabinets in my kitchen, I withdrew a bottle of tequila and crossed the floor to open the curtains on my windows. I popped the cap on the bottle of alcohol and swallowed a spicy sip. Enlightened, I grabbed the remote that controlled the stereo and clicked it on.

My playlist came on and the beginning of one of the songs I enjoyed dancing to played. I felt my hips begin to rock to the beat and my arms, one grasping on to the bottle of tequila, reach toward the heavens. I threw my head in every direction, allowing my long black hair to free itself from the tight pony tail at the base of my head. I smiled and dipped my hips low. The liquid in my hand sloshed from the sudden drop. Pushing the spout of the bottle to my lips I drank a long sip. The heat of the drink began to seep into my mind.

A drunken blush crept across my cheeks, turning my high cheekbones a soft pink. My sight began to blur and my gaze wondered to my open windows. Moving gradually across the floor, I allowed my hips to curve in spin. I ran my hands across my stomach slowly, pushing up my blouse to reveal my flat stomach and shining belly button piercing. I supposed that it wasn't very professional for a secretary to have such things but didn't care enough to take it off.

Grinding against the air, I sucked on the bottle of tequila as if it was my life source. I looked out passed the clear windows and focused my sights on something that peaked my curiosity. Something stood out in the black room across the opening. Piercing green eyes that I guessed belonged to the tenant of the other apartment looked at me. He was tall with shaggy brown hair that was cut in a fringe to his shoulders. His tan complexion was covered by the tight black t-shirt he wore and the black skinny jeans lining his long legs.

He was nothing less than sexy. A hazy smile crossed my face and I didn't dare wave to him. He was looking for a show and my drunken mind figured I should give it to him.

You're greedy eyes upon me

And then I come undone

And I could close the curtains

But this is too much fun

I had moved into the dull apartment for only a month. The normal layout of my home was as usual, everything black to fit my image. It was normal for someone who sang heavy metal and screamo, I guess. Something about the darkness was a comfort to me. Even if that might have sounded somewhat creepy, it was me.

I found nothing interesting around unless I went clubbing or something else fun at night. Since I wrote songs, I had to find something inspiring. Nights had passed since I hadn't found anything to voice my feelings about.

The rest of Livid Onyx', my band's name, members came one night hoping to give me some new ideas for songs. There were four of us altogether. Jesse, the bass guitarist, was a skinny guy with blonde surfer hair. He could eat anything given to him and still stay the same size. Then there was Adam, the lead guitarist, who was on the shorter side and packed with muscle. You could give him anything to work with, one measure of notes, and he could turn it into an entire song. Birch was our drummer and he was mostly silent, but when he got on stage he became an entirely different person, almost as if somebody had possessed his body. Lastly, there was me.

Our lives were music, music and more music. Our band had grown up together in a rural town. It was funny how we all had the same ideas for our occupations. We banded together and after much work and advertising, had been scouted by a music company that was based in California. That was where we were then. Adjusting to this lifestyle hadn't been very difficult, being that it was what we all had longed for. Girls, clubs, alcohol, and music. Nothing more, nothing less.

The members and I had all gotten apartments in the same complex, so it was easy to meet up and practice or do whatnot. We had enough money from previous gigs to last us a couple months of the rent, but if we didn't debut another song soon, it wouldn't be good. The pressure was on and I hadn't found anything to affect me in a way to stimulate my writing.

And then I saw her.

She lived in the apartment complex directly across from mine. It was funny how the buildings were exactly the same, but not run under the same people. Her windows were always open when she was home. Staring out one night, I saw her moving curiously about her living room. She held a class of wine and wore a white tank top and matching yoga pants. Curled up on her couch she drank a sip out of her glass and clutched a blood red pillow to her chest. It was bold against her white close and pale complexion, as was her midnight hair.

Something about her was intriguing and her image beckoned me to watch her. I guessed that the distance between our homes was too far for her to notice I was watching her, so I made it a habit to sit on my leather couch and examine her.

She always came home late at night and looked exhausted most of the time. I wondered what she did for a living. I grew more curious each night and began to write about it. The girl next door was a mystery. Some nights she seemed clean and pure. Others she drank until she slept. It was an enigma.

One night in particular I came back around 9:00 P.M. after a scheduled practice with Livid Onyx. I was tired, but still sat to look for the girl. About an hour later, she came home. She looked tired for the most part, but somewhat more cheerful than usual. I wondered what had happened to make her that way. And then she began to dance.

Widening my eyes I couldn't take my gaze away from her. She was awe-inspiring. The way her hips slid gracefully through the air and dipped in a teasing way. Even as she guzzled what looked like a bottle of tequila she still held a powerful aura. My breathing was hitched when her hands trailed up her stomach and showed a pierced naval, I was sent into an even deeper bewilderment.

Strutting across her white carpets, she was beautiful in a way like no other. Before I had known it, I felt attracted to her. Attracted to the way she could make such simple movements seductive and alluring. I finished the song that night. And had found what I'd been looking for. She was my muse.

I get off on you

Getting off on me

I give you what you want

But nothing is for free

It's a give and take

Kind of life we make

When your line is crossed

I get off

I get off

Every night after I got home, I would look for the dark man. As if he was following my schedule, he was always there. Any other person would call him a stalker, but to me it seemed different. He didn't seem like a stalker at all. The way he would watch me, with an unwavering, intense stare, was captivating. My curiosity of the man was becoming too overpowering. Some nights I wondered if closing the curtains was the right thing to do. It seemed like shutting him out was for the best, but no matter how hard my resolve was I couldn't do it.

I actually looked forward to coming home. I wanted him to watch me. It was a thirst that wouldn't go unquenched. I needed him to watch me. My own lust for his audience was strange, even to me.

The image of him sitting on his couch surrounded by leather, wearing the same tight black clothing, and holding the same strong gaze was engraved into my mind. Even at work, my thoughts wandered to him. During my free time, my hand would begin to sketch his face. It became a habit that I had to make sure I wasn't holding a pencil or pen while I wasn't working. All my notes and pads were filled with him. His bright green eyes, the curve of his lips, the structure of his jaw, everything was imprinted in my brain.

It was too much to handle. I hadn't even met him. Yet, I had to admit it. I wanted the man. I wanted him in every way possible. I wanted to make him head over heels for me. I wanted his mind, his body, his heart all to myself.

So much left unspoken

Between the two of us

It's so much more exciting

To look when you can touch

I felt my heart begin to sway whenever I thought of her. She was so different, so cultivating. I felt my body begin to rapture when I thought of the way she moved across her living room. I was so overcome by her.

My band mates began to notice the change in me. They found the song I wrote about her amazing and immediately we began to conjure up notes for it. The situation should have been interfering with my work, but instead it fueled it. I wanted to get my song out faster. I wanted people to experience the riddle of the girl who had my mind and heart racing.

Not even a word had been said to each other, but I felt close to her in a way that wasn't humanly possible. I didn't know what I would say to her if I did meet her. She hadn't known that I was watching her. Would she have thought I was a pervert? Even knowing that, I wanted to meet her.

I wanted her to know me.

Although, somehow just watching her filled me up. Watching her dance, drink, relax, live was fulfilling enough for me. The thrill of being the only one to see her in her natural form was arousing and I took pride in it.

I didn't tell anyone of my spying, not even my band-mates. They didn't need to know. Only I needed to take part in it. It was exhilarating and made my life even more worthwhile.

You could say I'm different

And maybe I'm a freak

But I know how to twist ya

To bring you to your knees

But you don't know

But you can't see

It's what you forgive

Out here for me

Maybe it was a bit weird of me to be thinking of new ways to surprise the man across the distance, but that never stopped me. I always got my work done, but somehow my mind would always stray back to new ideas.

I had already shown him my seductive side; that was for sure with the dance. He had already seen me like normal, even naked, which I was definitely an accident on my part. It wasn't my fault I forgot to bring a towel into the shower with me. Well maybe it was, but it wasn't intentional. I guess he had gotten a flash of my dashing across the living room to the other side of my apartment where I kept the towels in a storage closet. But it wasn't really important.

It had only been a couple of days since I became aware of the fact he was watching me. I wanted him to know that I knew. But I didn't want to make it obvious. Maybe that was what I needed to do to make him even more bewitched.

I came home that night and knew exactly what I wanted to do. Grabbing a paintbrush, paint, and a large canvas, I began to paint. I painted and painted what had been on my mind for all that period of time. I painted what my hands had been itching to do. The stroke of the brush was so natural to me and I felt better after I got the image out onto paper.

I had been facing the window the entire time so that the man couldn't see what I was drawing. Wiping the sweat that dripped down my cheek, I turned the portrait towards the window. A vivid collection of colors were splattered across the canvas to create a perfect image of the man sitting on his leather couch. My thin pink lips curved into a smile and I snuck a glance toward the man who was staring at me. I walked off wondering what he had thought of my picture, reveling in my triumph.

I get off on you

Getting off on me

I give you what you want

But nothing is for free

It's a give and take

Kind of life we make

When your line is crossed

I get off

I get off

I thought that the girl couldn't get any more interesting. I truly and undoubtedly believed that, but she proved me wrong. She put me at an utter standstill and it had me salivating at the mouth.

I came home early after working out at the gym across town. After showering and working on some other lyrics that had come to my mind, I sat down like normal. The girl was too much for me. It was normal for me to bring women back to my apartment. I had always been a popular spectacle. Most nights my bed had been a tangled mess of sheets, lust, and intertwining soft skin. I enjoyed those times.

Ever since I had noticed the girl across the distance, I couldn't find any pleasure in the nameless women. Their bodies weren't the same smooth and curvy body that I had seen streak across the white and red living room. Their hips didn't have the same appeal when they moved as the hips I had seen the one night when I discovered my inspiration. They weren't the same and I didn't want them.

I waited for the girl to come home, wondering what she would do that night. Her black hair was tied in a high bun on the back of her skull and she wore an open red blouse and black skirt that hugged her hips and thighs magnificently. She readied a canvas that was similar to the other canvas' hanging on her walls. I was amazed to find out that she had painted them herself.

After a while, she finished and smiled to herself at the conclusion. I leaned forward in my seat and waited to see for myself what she had drawn. Surely it was something amazing. And I was right. It was amazing.

Turning the painting around, I saw the full finished piece. It was a picture of a man sitting on a black leather couch with an intense glint in his eyes. It was a picture of my just the way I was then. I gasped and leaned back suddenly. She knew I was watching her. And yet she hadn't said anything. She even did so many entertaining things. I knew at that moment that she was something that couldn't be replaced. She was special.

She was the one.

Yea, I get off

Yea, I get off

I get off