Smooth Criminal

“It was bad.”
I could hear voices talking in the background, that much I knew for sure. But I couldn’t quite make out just who was talking. I couldn’t open my eyes, I couldn’t move my body, I couldn’t do anything but just lie there and listen to the world around me.
“What all happened, bro?” Voice Number Two questioned.
“She was so drunk, Rian. I’ve never seen her that drunk before.”
That would explain why the headache…
“Alex totally lost his shit. The second she walked in, the only thing anyone could notice was the massive hickey on her neck.”
“Hickey? She has a hickey? What the fuck? From who?” Rian’s hoarse voice questioned, anger pouring from every word more and more as he spoke. I shut my eyes even tighter, praying to God that they weren’t talking about me. I don’t get hickies. Alex is always so careful to not leave any. And if it’s not from Alex, who the fuck could it have been from?
“No one knows. I was going to rationally talk to her about it, but then, of course, Alex took it upon himself to point it out and be a dick about it. And we all know how Stella is when she’s drunk... “
That’s code for ‘Stella is a massive bitch when she’s drunk.’ I could’ve told anyone that.
“So I’m assuming they got into a little argument?”
Voice Number One let out a scoff before explaining with further details. “Rian, they got into a fucking fist fight. Whatever Alex said hit Stella wrong, she practically threw Tom’s death in his face, and he fucking attacked her. I had never been so scared in my entire damn life.”
Oh, God. Please… No. Please tell me I didn’t do that… I would never say anything ill of Tom to anybody. Especially not Alex.
“She went on about how she envied Tom. ‘If I had to live with you in my life everyday, I’d kill myself, too.’”
Rian choked on whatever it was that he was drinking, the sounds of the liquid dropping to floor echoing in my head as the words that I had apparently said sank deep into my bones. I suddenly became very cold as my mind moved in circles, attempting to remember any of this happening. But I couldn’t think of anything. The last thing I truly remembered from last night was leaving the venue in a rush to get away from Alex as he sang ‘Noel,’ breaking my heart into a million pieces as he did so.
“Alex got her pretty fuckin’ good, too, dude. She’s gonna have a few battle scars.”
As I laid there and listened to the hell I had single handedly dug myself into last night, the overpowering sense of nausea hit me like a semi-truck going full speed. Without any warning, I was abruptly leaning over the side of the bed, eyes open wide, as the contents of my stomach spewed into the trash can that was sitting beside me. Scurried footsteps were heard and Zack was behind me in the blink of an eye, pulling my hair back out of my face as Rian rubbed circles between my shoulder blades. No one said a single word as the vomiting resided into nothing more than violent dry heaves, my head becoming too heavy to lift as my body shook and trembled beneath the gracious touch of my friends.
“I’m so sorry,” I croaked out, my voice catching in my throat as I attempted to speak. The silence I got in return resulted in a hysterical outburst on my behalf; tears leaked from my eyes, falling down my swollen cheeks, as I buried my head in the crook of Zack’s knees as he sat criss-crossed next to me.
“Hey,” Rian cooed to me, still rubbing my back. “Settle down. We’re gonna take care of it.”
I shook my head and hiccuped as I sobbed. “I have to fix this. I have to fix this. I fucked up so badly. I don’t even know what I did. I don’t fucking remember anything and I fucked up so, so badly.” My words got lost in the hideous sobs that overtook my motor skills but I exactly didn’t care at that particular point in time.
“What’s the last thing you remember, Stells?” Zack whispered sweetly in my ear. “Can you tell me that, babe? What do you remember?”
“Noel,” I sobbed out, clutching the comforter with such a tight grip, my knuckles turned white almost immediately. “He p-played tha-at God awful song-g about tha-at fucking bit-ch.”
“Stella, baby, you have got to calm down. I swear to you, it’s all going to be okay. You and Alex have fought before. This fight isn’t any different,” Zack said sternly. “You’re going to be okay.”
I stared up at him with bewildered eyes. “I told him that Tom killed himself because of him.” At that certain point in time, I could no longer keep the sobs at bay any longer. My bawling became a hysterical wailing as I contorted my body in awkward angles as the faucet in my eyes was turned up more and more. Zack and Rian did everything in their power to attempt to comfort the wreck of a human being that laid before them and I had to give them major props for that. Never in my life had I felt so low. I dug myself a grave and shot myself in the head to lie in it. And now I had to accept the fact that there was little to no way to get myself up out of this mess.
Zack continued to play with random strands of my hair as Rian massaged my back until my sobs calmed down a bit. I wracked my brain for any sort of memory from last night, but the harder I thought, the farther away I found myself from the answers I was looking for. The only thing I could remember was leaving the venue in a pissed off rage, in a hurry to get away from the drama and leave it all behind me so I could calm down before confronting Alex about his choice of material he played that night.
“Oh, my god,” I gasped. Rian and Zack froze at my sudden outburst and looked down at me furrowed brows. “I remember something.”
The boys sat up a bit straighter, their attention fully on me as I prepared to spill my newest recollection of the disastrous night.
“I was walking back to the hotel to clear my mind and calm down before I talked to Alex, and then there was this guy… His name was, like, Benji or Batman or some shit. I don’t know. But he followed me and started talking to me. We walked around and talked for a bit. That’s all I remember. I have no idea how I even got back to the hotel… I don’t remember getting drunk. I don’t even remember getting alcohol. So I’m assuming he had something to do with that. And for this,” I pointed at the spot that had began to ache like a fresh bruise on my neck - the spot I’m assuming was the hickey Zack had been telling Rian about earlier.
“You said she had a hickey,” Rian turned to Zack with wide eyes. “You said nothing about the fact that she looks like she got into a fight with fucking Muhammad Ali’s mouth.”
“Is it really that bad?” I whispered, closing my eyes in fear of the truth. Rian said nothing as he assisted me from the bed, my bones screaming in loud protest at the movement, and guided me over to the mirrored closet door.
“Fuck,” I breathed out. My eyes wandered from the dark purple spot on my neck to the mass of bruises on my stomach and hip bones to the scattered batch of bruises that resided on my arms. “What the hell happened to me…” My voice sounded foreign to my own ears; broken and beaten down, ready to give up at any moment. The girl staring back at me in the mirror was not me. I had no idea who that broken girl was.
I chewed on my bottom lip, unable to tear my eyes away from the reflection, as a raw sob tore from my vocal chords. When did this happen? Why did this happen? How could I have let myself get this point? My hands trembled as I lifted them to my face once more, tracing over the dark circles that resided underneath my eyes. Zack came up behind me and just watched over me, making sure I didn’t do anything stupid(er).
“I need to talk to him,” I whispered hoarsely, my voice catching on tears that weren’t able to fall.
“You need to clean yourself up, Stells,” Rian sighed at me in his fatherly voice I’d only heard a handful of times. “You look like hell and I know you feel like it, too.”
“I need to talk to him,” I urged once more, finding the strength in my voice.
“You can talk to him when you’re done showering.” Zack’s voice was quiet, just right above a whisper, but still stern and protective. I looked at him through the mirror and his eyes said it all. He hated Alex right now. No matter who started it, despite who threw the deadliest punch, at that moment Zackary Merrick wanted Alexander Gaskarth six feet under for what he did. And that was what hurt the worst. Knowing that I had only been in the picture for a matter of months and I had been able to come between the bond of two brothers, unintentionally tearing them farther apart as the days dragged on.
I stayed put where I was standing, unable to move my body. Zack let out another sigh and walked towards me, extending his arms to wrap me up in his firm yet comforting grasp and carry me to the bathroom of his and Rian’s room. He made sure the door clicked silently behind us as he set me down on the granite countertop. My feet swung back and forth as Zack turned his back to me to start running the bath water. When he turned back to face me, he looked me dead in the eyes and shook his head but still said nothing. He grabbed the bottom hem of the shirt I had been wearing since yesterday, my mind racing back to the “hot mom” comment Alex had made that previous morning and how we had lovingly joked around all morning long like we were supposed to do. But I’d probably never get that again. I fucked it all up. It was all my fault.
Tears silently slipped down my cheeks as Zack pulled my shirt above my head, my arms raising themselves automatically, as if muscle memory from all the times I had done this with Alex in a completely different setting. With Alex, everything was rushed with kisses filled to the brim with lust and excitement. But Zack was gentle and careful, moving slowly so that he didn’t bump into any of my wounds. As my shirt was being folded delicately in Zack’s muscular hands, I couldn’t help but watch him intently, as if my entire existence depended on his very movements; and, to an extent, they did. Zack was the glue that was holding together the very last shred of reality I had left. He knew it, too, and for that, I will forever hate myself for putting that kind of pressure on my best friend. So I sat on the bathroom counter in my bra and shorts, I cursed myself for being such an awful human being. And I cried for hating myself. I cried for Zack. I cried for Alex. I cried for Tom and for Rory. I cried for my mom. I cried for the sad excuse that had become my life and the horrendous monster I had created of myself.
Zack’s thumb caressed the tears from my reddened face as he placed a soft, sweet kiss on my forehead, his lips remaining in that place as my body shook underneath him. His arms wrapped around my shoulders in an attempt to calm me down once again. Once the tears came to a cease, Zack gave me a spine chilling look and I nodded my head, knowing what he was asking. His eyes never left mine as he unclasped the back hooks of my bra, his fingers lightly brushing against bruised mess of my arms as he slid the straps down.
“I’m not looking, I swear,” he breathed in a whisper, his words brushing against my nose and eyelashes. I attempted at a small smile at him as my bra was placed on top of my shirt. He helped me off the counter so I could shed myself of my shorts and the rest of the articles of clothing that hung from my exhausted, lifeless body. My back was facing him as I began to unbutton the shorts and a long sigh followed by a meek groan was heard from his direction.
“Babe,” he sighed. I jumped as his finger traced the outline of, what I’m assuming, was another bruise on my back. “How did you end up here?”
I wordlessly placed my shorts next to my other clothing and shrugged, letting my shoulders fall limp. Zack went to turn off the water as I rid myself of the final article of cloth left on my body. I wrapped my arms consciously around my body, wanting to curl myself into a tiny ball of nothingness and disappear from the world completely. But instead, I stepped into the hot water and eased myself in as Zack avoided looking at me as I situated myself.
“You don’t have to do this,” I assured him softly. Zack turned around and grabbed the bar of hotel soap and a washcloth from the countertop.
“I know,” he responded, ripping the soap from the paper it was wrapped in.
“Zack, really. I need to take care of myself. I need to learn how to get myself out of these situations…”
“Stella, if you don’t shut up, you’re going to get soap in your mouth.”
I wanted to roll my eyes at Zack’s attempt at playful banter to lighten the mood. I wanted to laugh at the stupid threat and tell him to shove it. But I just kept my gaze straight ahead as my best friend ran the lathered down rag over my broken body, trying to mend me to the best of his abilities. And for that, I loved him more than I had ever loved anyone in my entire life.

Notes