[No more winter break. It'll be back to the fray soon. Dammit.

Anyway, enjoy the update!]

Stay Creepy, My Friends!~

Chapter 46

Reese's POV

The worst weekend I experienced in a long time was after Hunter's accident. Mom asked for leave off work due to family emergency. Artem has been staying at the apartment to keep me company, especially without Mom there. He let me take Friday off because of what happened, and has been doing well to not mention work or school to me. In fact, the ruski doesn't really talk to me because he knows I won't say much—will refuse to say anything. He just makes sure I eat and get proper rest like he was asked to do by my mom. I've never seen him so caring before, or as caring as a man like Artem Kuznetsov can be. He's significantly more mindful of what I say or do compared to just brushing me off like he usually does. He hasn't even called me soplyak and has simply said my name out of respect.

Since Hunter's accident, I haven't wanted to leave the apartment. This resulted in me not meeting Ben, or really talking to him. The only time we talked was on a phone call in which I told him that I couldn't go to prom.

He understood and I was relieved. He sent his best wishes to Hunter, to me, to my mom. That was it. But relief was overshadowed by the disappointment I felt at myself. All I've felt since the accident was never-ending disappointment, from when I wake up to when I fall asleep under my fake, plastic stars. Disappointment in myself for having not been good enough to help Hunter, for being unable to be with Ben and share a great night together, for being a depressing bum always laying in bed while Mom goes from work to the hospital and Artem waits patiently in our home. Most of all, I'm disappointed in myself not for what I failed to do but for what I did.

What did I do? I pleaded with any sort of God of higher power to make me suffer instead. I wished for my own death in place of what could have awaited Hunter. I wanted to disappear from this life if it meant everyone would be better off that way. That sort of thinking, those feelings that I felt for the past weekend; these things are things that Hunter hates. He hated when I said I shouldn't exist and I'm sure he would hate it now. Plus, I know that those thoughts make his actions seem so worthless, when that's not what I think of them at all. I'm disappointed in myself for letting my mind, my spirit, my faith hit the very bottom of all human self-hatred.

Hunter was unconscious for two days after his accident, and on the third day, Sunday, he finally woke up. Once I heard the news from Mom, I begged Artem to take me to the hospital to see him. He was hesitant at first, but after pleading and pushing at him, he finally gave in and agreed to take me to the hospital (his main concern was that I hadn't showered all weekend and needed to, very badly, before we left for anywhere). I finally smiled for the first time and my body had energy once again.

Upon arriving at the hospital, I couldn't help but remember the last time I was here, when I was attacked by a Corrupted. That seems like so long ago now. I've completely forgotten that the scars on my face were so recent because of that abomination. I wonder, how did Hunter feel when he heard I was in the hospital? Did he feel horrible, saddened, anxious, hopeful? That big ol' teddy bear he gave me... The smile on his face when he finally came to visit me... God...

Artem signed me in (it's a good thing Mom wrote him down as an associated friend) and the receptionist said Hunter was on the fifth floor. Unfortunately, the ruski said he couldn't come with me as there was an important call he had to take with my mom. "Tell him I send my regards," he said to me. I felt a bit uncomfortable trekking the hospital on my own but it couldn't be helped. My heart was pounding in my chest when I stood in the elevator, as I watched the digital numbers above the door count up to 5. My fingers began to fiddle with the visitor's card clipped to the hem of my shirt.

Once I made it to the fifth floor, I stepped out of the elevator and eagerly searched for room number 510. When I found it, I was hesitant to walk in. My hand hovered just over the doorknob. Why do I feel so nervous?

Suddenly, the door opened on its own and a nurse walked out. She gave me a pleasantly surprised look and greeted, "Hello. Are you here to visit Hunter?"

I shoved my hand in my pocket and said, "Yes, I am."

"You came at the right time. He's been awake for thirty minutes so far. Excuse him if he's in and out; his injuries and medication are taking their effects," she explained politely.

"Thank you." Without a word, I stepped aside to allow the nurse to pass before entering the room.

There was a drama show playing on the TV at a low volume. The curtains across the room were drawn to allow warm sunlight in through the windows, which shined on the hospital bed where Hunter lay. He heard me come in and said, "Who is it?"

At first, I was confused as to why he couldn't tell it was me. But then I noticed it. His left eye was patched over with gauze, and the cast around his neck didn't allow for him to move his head. I wasn't in his sight.

"It's Reese," I answered and showed up on his other side next to the windows. His face brightened and he practically jerked in his place.

"Reese...! H-Hey!"

I smiled and said, "It's good to see you're better."

"Define 'better'," he joked. "Ah, but then anything is better than being in a brief coma. How have you been?"

There he goes again, always placing the concern on me instead of him. I nodded and told him, "I've been okay. Kind of. Just worried about you is all."

"You look sick."

"I...haven't gotten much sleep...or eaten much," I stated honestly. No use lying to him.

He pouted. "Reese, you need to take care of yourself."

"Hehe, I know..."

Hunter pulled his signature smile and asked, "Did you come here yourself?"

"No, Artem came with but he had to take an important phone call."

"A phone call more important than me?" he jested again. "I wish he were here. I'd thank him for keeping an eye on you. Mom told me so this morning when she was here."

"He sends his best regards though. So does Ben."

"Ben...! How is he? Oh, shit, today's Sunday, right? Did you two go to prom??"

With a small smile, I responded, "No, we didn't. I told him I couldn't because of...well, you know. It wasn't a good time."

"Aw, man, but you still should've gone."

"Hunter..."

He sighed and tried to nod as best as he could. "Okay, I get it. I'm sorry for ruining you guys' last chance."

"You didn't ruin anything," I assured him. "Don't blame yourself for the accident. Please."

"O...Okay," he murmured, eyeing me carefully. I must have pulled a face. I tried to lighten up.

"How are you feeling so far?" I questioned.

He stifled a light chuckle and said, "A little weary. All the morphine fucked me up the first two days, which is why I was out, haha. But I'm okay. As okay as I can get, anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"I overheard the doctor tell Mom about my condition. He said my hip got a little messed up so I might have a pretty significant limp when I walk—might even need a crutch—and that my left eye was, well, also messed up. I...I don't think I'll be able to see out of it anymore."

"Oh..." My mood dropped a bit.

"But at least it was one eye, you know? Sucks that I might not be able to drive anymore though. Too risky. Hey, do you think I'd look cool with an eyepatch? You've told me about that girl you work with. She sounds cool."

"Y-Yeah, I'm sure you would look cool...," I mumbled.

His jokester attitude lightened up some and he asked me, "Hey...what's wrong?"

I shook my head. "Nothing, I just... It's nothing."

"Is it?"

"I-I was thinking I should've brought you a gift. Like that time I was in the hospital and you got me that bear? I feel stupid for not getting you something. I should've. Maybe the hospital has gifts, but I know they overprice the shit out of them, and I don't even remember if I brought my wallet with me, so I probably can't get you anything—."

"Reese," Hunter called and snapped me out of my rambling.

I shut my mouth and forced myself to look at him. My gaze immediately fell on his one eye, chocolate brown like our mom's. Only one. What will happen to the other eye? Will its color fade? Will I ever even see it again? Hunter's eyes were one of the greatest features about him; you saw the smile in them before you saw it on his lips. They were the eyes I held dear and had wanted instead of these cold, gray orbs of mine, of Demonio's. Now Hunter only has half of that chocolate brown hallmark.

Subconsciously, my hand searched for his on the bed and I squeezed his fingers, mindful of the bandages. I couldn't look at him. Even now, his gaze is too powerful. He reminded me too much of what I wasn't.

"I'm sorry," I choked out. The image of Hunter's cream-colored bedsheets began to blur in the wake of my tears. As they streaked hot against my skin, I whimpered, "I'm so sorry."

"For what..?"

I shook my head and cast my face down. "I should've tried harder. I was stupid to let you go on like you did without doing enough to help."

"You're...talking about how I was off my meds...?"

I nodded and sniffled. "I should've persisted. That's what you would've done. But no, all I did was cry like a bitch and watch you fall apart."

"Reese, don't say tha—."

"All I've ever done is cry and moan like a child," I went on. "When have I done anything good for you? Never. I never did. I only watched you, like a witness, like some useless passerby. I have no defining achievements, no notable aspects, no noble traits. I'm just...a fucking mess. Always have been, always will."

"You know that's not true..."

I began to tremble from the severity of my sobbing. "I'm not a good person, not a real fighter. The only thing I do is piss people off and throw fists because the world fucking hates me. But that's because I find excuses in everything to hate something. People are stupid but so am I for even caring. I don't even try to be better. I'm a stupid delinquent with nothing going for him. That's why I was scared for you when you got in the accident. I was afraid because the world fucked over someone who's worth it instead of taking someone like me."

"Reese, you don't want this. None of this..!"

"Well maybe I should!" I cried out. "Maybe I should be in your place while you stand in mine. Maybe I should suffer all of your pain instead. Maybe I should have suffered any sort of pain and punishment, that way I would've learned not to be such a stupid brat with nothing redeemable whatsoever!"

Before Hunter could object, I fell onto my knees and pressed his hand against my forehead. "You should've let Dad hit me! It's unfair that you didn't! Why wouldn't you let him beat me, just once?! Once is all I ask! I don't care! You should've let him! You should've let him!"

"Reese...!"

"Unfair... Unfair..." I bemoaned into his mattress.

He tugged on my hand. "Have you been taking your medication?"

"Why'd you take all the pain...?"

"You haven't."

"I have," I corrected him. "But it isn't working. Now you see that pills just won't cut it. They never did. You were right, Hunter. I am broken. I always have been. I was a broken son, and that's why Dad hated me from the beginning. I'm broken. Broken and irreparable. A broken thing."

He didn't say anything for a while and allowed me to sob into the bedsheets and desperately hold his hand as I did. Once my cries had slowed, he slipped his hand out of my grip and touched my head. Shakily, I lifted my head up and held his hand against the side of my face.

"Why...," I began, "is it wrong to love me...?"

Hunter shook his head and held a gentle expression "It's not wrong. Sometimes it hurts to love, and that's okay. It's what makes us human."

"It hurts, Hunter. It hurts so much..."

"I know. Other people don't get to feel that. You're more human than anyone I know."

"I feel like a monster," I confessed.

He chuckled softly. "In some cases, there's no difference. All negative emotions are made out to be bad and to be avoided, but it's a fight no one wins. Because they're natural; they're human. If you were happy all the time, well, there's no point. You're human, Reese. So am I. You forget that I had told you that I'm broken too; the both of us are broken. And sometimes that's okay. Because we're human and we'll get by anyway."

My crying had ceased to congested sniffles and an aching head. I leaned into his hand and murmured, "I'm sorry, Hunter. I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"It's okay."

"You're the best person ever. I love you."

He laughed. "I love you too, buddy. Never forget that. Never ever."

"Okay."

"I mean it. Never, ever, ever, ever."

I smiled and sniffed. "Ever."

We spent a few minutes in silence while I recuperated from my emotional breakdown. I rested my head on the bed while Hunter brushed his fingers through my hair. Again, here we are: him comforting me despite that he was more in need of that same comfort. But instead of getting pissy about it, I remained silent. I remained at ease with this situation because so was Hunter.

"What's going to happen after this?" I asked out of nowhere.

Hunter's hand faltered and he remarked, "What do you mean?"

"What's going to happen to you now with your injuries?" I elaborated.

He shrugged slightly. "I'm not sure yet. I believe I could still work, but it'll be more difficult. Or maybe not, depending on my state of walking, which I don't know yet. Plus, no driving anymore on account of my eye. It'll be...different."

A sudden idea came to mind and I said, "I could help you."

He furrowed his brow. "Huh?"

"Knowing Mom, she'll want to take care of you, but work is important to her. I can take her place though."

Realization crossed his features. "You want to be my caregiver?"

"Why not?"

He managed a smile. "I don't think I'll need one."

"And if you do?"

"I can adapt."

"And if you can't?"

He chuckled nervously. "Reese, as kind as the offer is, I don't think it's a good idea."

"Why not?"

He bunched up his lips to one side. "You just...you shouldn't have to do that. I mean, you're young. You've got a lot ahead of you that shouldn't be weighed down by me."

I tried to sound as polite as possible. "What's ahead of me? I'm probably not going to go to college. I wouldn't know my major even if I did. I have no career plan, no future. There's nothing ahead of me that you would, apparently, ruin. I don't care. You've sacrificed so much for me. Let me repay you."

"What I've done for you isn't something to be owed."

"Well, it is to me," I insisted. "I want to do this. Let me take care of you and keep you safe. I'll be content because it's you. Plus, aren't I better than some random stranger you'd feel awkward with?"

Hunter stifled a laugh. "I guess. What if you get tired of me?"

"I've stuck with you this far, haven't I? I'm accustomed to your bullshit," I teased.

He stuck his tongue out and playfully pushed my head aside. I could tell he knew I was right though. Of course I am.

"Well?" I spoke up expectantly.

He groaned. "We'll talk about it, see if it would work out." Good enough for me.

I took a moment to go into the bathroom and wash off my face, which was incredibly red and full of tears and just gross all around. When I came back, I finally took a seat in the recliner beside Hunter's bed and breathed. How dumb was I to react like that in front of him? He's the one in need of the attention. No, wait, stop thinking that way, Reese. Hunter wouldn't like that. Just sit with him and chill.

"Hey," I started, "your memory isn't like messed up or anything, right?"

"Not to a large degree," my brother answered.

"So, you remember how the crash happened?" I asked.

He flopped his hand on the bed as if immediately giving up, but he held that thinking face. With a sigh, he replied, "It's hazy. I barely woke up today, you know."

"Sorry."

"It's alright. Well...I remember I was coming home from my classes. There was a big lecture that day—which I'll be damned if I remember—and I was feeling really tired that day. I just really wanted to go home. I had even called in sick to work. And...ugh, the noise."

"Noise?"

"Yeah. All the noise around me. The lecture stressed me the fuck out, I could barely take notes, and all my sucky handwriting just swam in my vision. It was awful. I'm surprised I made it through the class. And then...the traffic."

"It was bad that day...," I commented.

"Even worse around the college—some people don't know how to fuckin' drive. And then all the noise of traffic. I tried listening to the radio to drown it out but, ugh, that ticked me off too. It was horrible, Reese. I never should have lost my medicine."

"It's alright, Hunter," I assured him and placed a hand on his. He smiled.

"I...I don't remember what happened after that. I remember...noise. Just noise. And I guess...it distracted me and I got overwhelmed with traffic and then I...yeah..."

Frowning, I said, "I really should go to that doctor's office and—."

"No, no," Hunter chided.

"C'mon, man."

"He'd probably press charges for assault."

"And he'd get sued for misguidance because denying you your meds is what made you freak out in the first place and get yourself hurt," I argued.

"But he was following a precaution."

"Which, is optional for doctors to follow," I countered. "I looked into this shit, Hunter."

"Okay, look, no going to my doctor's office and beating him up at all, alright?"

"I guess if you say so," I grumbled with a playful pout. He laughed and shook my hand in his.

"Well, I'm glad you're okay," I said. "Thank goodness it wasn't something worse."

"Yeah. Although I can't help but find it funny."

"The crash was funny?" I questioned, appalled. I know there's different ways to cope but geez.

"No, not 'funny' haha but 'funny' weird," he corrected. "I...I thought I pulled over. I swear I thought about it, and I wanted to. That way I could take time to catch my breath and collect myself, or maybe even call my friends and have one of them drive me home. I should've pulled over. I thought I did. I would've, right?"

"You're overthinking. Why don't you relax?"

He didn't listen to me and mumbled, "I would've. I should've. I know I thought about it. It would've been easy. Pulling over. I wanted to. I wanted to..."

His whole aura shifted dramatically from confused to disturbed. His eye stared ahead, wide, pupil dilated. He froze completely, to the point where I wasn't sure if he was breathing anymore, and the TV static made itself known again.

"I...I wanted to pull over," he began so softly I had to lean close to hear him. "I wanted to pull over, was going to, but then...I saw something..."

"What?" I said gently.

"B...Back...seat. Backseat. Sitting there in the backseat—that's why I couldn't pull over. S-S-Someone was in the backseat, they weren't there before, they were there watching me and I—they wouldn't let me pull over. I wanted to, I tried to, but they wouldn't let me. They kept staring and staring and my head hurt and I wanted to scream—he wouldn't let me, in the backseat, the fucking backseat, and he just stared—that's it, that's all! Fucking staring! He wouldn't let me! The fucking backseat!"

The more he spoke, the more his heart rate began to increase until the frantic sound of beeping on the EKG monitor overcame the TV static and my own thoughts. I tried to calm him down; I held his hand, called out his name, brushed his head, but nothing worked. And suddenly the frightened trembling his body endured before was replaced, induced by actual convulsions. Fuck, he's having a seizure!

Quickly, I slammed my hand on the call button above his bed, and even went as far as to run to the door and holler for help outside. A couple of nurses came running in and immediately took action, not regarding me and going straight for Hunter.

"He's not breathing," I heard a nurse say. Among other words like "shock", "turn", "degrade," "injuries".

Another nurse came in and told me, "Sir, you'll have to leave."

"Is he going to be okay?" I asked her vehemently.

"We'll ensure he'll be safe but you need to leave the room."

"Please, c-can you let me—."

But she was already leading me out the door. I protested, feebly begged her to let me stay and make sure Hunter is alright. The last thing I heard was the frantic beeping on the heart monitor and the sounds of Hunter's body rattling the hospital bed. Tears threatened and stung my eyes and terror ran viciously through my veins. I felt my heart ache once again, wishing Hunter would be okay.

I tried my best not to sprint down the hallway to the elevator, and the walk felt like a mile, or more. When the elevator doors opened, there were people inside, and I tried to hold everything in until my stop had come. At the main floor, I let the people walk ahead of me, and I wondered if they sensed something about me (most likely).

As soon as I stepped outside, Artem was there in the hall, having waited in the lobby. One look into his blue eyes and I threw myself into his arms. I sobbed against his chest and clawed at his jacket. I could barely hold myself up; Artem did most of that for me. He helped me over to the side and onto a chair, where he continued to hold me in his arms. His hands firmly and gently keeping me afloat; his head pressed against mine as he cradled it close to his heart, where I could hear it beating; his reverent silence that spoke volumes. He held me like a baby. He held me like a parent would to their child after a thunderous, rainy storm in the night. And the child cried and cried, wishing things got better soon, wishing he could fix it all, wishing he could still have his faded stars as they finally peeled away from the  speckled ceiling.

...

It was hard going back to school. The mornings were jarring without seeing Hunter at the breakfast table or at the stove burning some bacon he'll still eat. They were even more jarring without Mom there too. She practically lives at the hospital, with how much she stays there. And when I do see her, she looks tired and worried, yet there's hope in her chocolate brown eyes. I'm happy when she says hello, when she gives me a kiss on the cheek, when she touches my face and says, "Everything will be alright."

All anyone talked about in school was the prom. How her boyfriend did this, and she said that to him, and how they danced the night away, or how they took the spotlight, or this drama happened on such a big night. Such a big night. I tried not to feel bitter. While they had their big night, that same night for me was filled with worry and self-loathing. But hey, I didn't want to go to prom anyway. It was only for Ben. Only for the guy that I don't bother to respond to anymore. I don't have it in me to fill his plate with more worries.

The days feel long and sometimes exhausting. People look at me with concerned or absurd faces. They can see the lack of sleep and all the stress on my face. I see it in myself too and I feel like punching the mirror for it. I'm an actual zombie. Maybe I'll do what Bryce Halford joked about and pull a damn gun out of my practically empty backpack, but shoot myself more than anything. Where exactly, I don't know.

Before I know it, the end of the week is approaching already. There was an assembly for seniors on Thursday for something I didn't pay attention to. I took those 45 minutes of monotonous lecturing to doze off in my seat in the auditorium. Best rest I've gotten in a while, surprisingly enough.

Suddenly, I was disturbed when I felt someone tap the back of my head. At first I thought it was a teacher come to tell me to pay attention. Upon turning around, I saw Bryce. How did I not see him earlier? I must be pretty fucked up to not notice this gaudy prick.

"Hey," he began in a whisper, "you doing alright?"

I frowned. "Why do you care?"

He pulled his hand away and said, "Listen, I heard about what happened to your brother. Just wanted to say I hope he gets better soon."

Glancing at the front stage, I replied, "Is now really the time?"

"I doubt I'd ever get a chance any other time," he explained.

I sighed. "Point taken."

"Shhhh..!" the inevitable teacher shushed us and I turned around. But Bryce still kept up.

"Is he doing okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine so far. Still resting," I muttered, not looking at him.

"That's good."

The lecture went on and on, and some groups of kids were even whispering amongst themselves somewhere above in the upper seats. Why aren't they being shushed?

"Hey," Bryce started again, "uh, I wanted to ask you something else."

"What?" I grumbled testily.

I heard him gulp. He scratched his neck. "Um, who's that friend of yours? The blonde, short one?"

"The one who fucked you up when you talked shit," I remarked.

"Okay, yeah, that one..."

"Ben?"

"Y-Yeah."

I furrowed my brows. "What about him?"

He scratched his jaw now. "You, uh, still friends with him?"

"Yeah." Though it felt weird to say that out loud to someone else at this point.

Bryce's voice was hesitant. "Is...Is he...okay?"

"Why? You heard he got into a car accident too?"

"N-No, I just...I mean like is he..'okay'?" He tapped the side of his head and my reaction was immediate.

"The fuck do you mean by that?" I growled, finally turning.

"Ah, no, no, no, I don't mean like that," Bryce stammered.

"Shhhh," the same teacher from before called for our silence again. She didn't receive it.

I calmed down and allowed Bryce to speak. "What I meant was...is he normal? O-Or, you know...not...bad?"

"Define 'bad'."

"Like...he's not some criminal, is he? Into some gang shit? Or...cult shit?"

"You're really starting to piss me off with your vague-ass rambling," I hissed.

"The thing is, I...," he trailed off, glanced around. I thought it was for that teacher, but I was wrong. "Look, last time at the park, when I talked shit to you, he...he did something."

"Yeah, and that was kicking the ever living shit out of you just as you deserved," I quipped.

"No, not that...! S-Something else. Does he...Does he ever show you weird things? Creepy things?"

"Bryce, can't you just cut to the chase?"

"I'm afraid to talk to you, alright?"

"Why?"

"Because of him...!"

At that exact moment is when the lecture held a pause and heads turned our way. Now was the time I wish I'd listened to the shushing teacher and ignored Bryce completely. It took everything in me not to turn around and clock him in that crooked nose of his once again. Why couldn't he just let me fuckin' sleep like a decent human being??

After that, Bryce finally stopped whispering behind me and I sat through the lecture bored out of my mind, way too awake now to doze off again. Once the assembly finally ended and everyone was getting out of their seats, Bryce grabbed me and I refrained from instinctively shoving him away. He pulled me to the side, looked me in the eyes with dead seriousness, and said, "I know you won't believe me, but your friend is not normal."

I wanted to laugh at him. Of course Ben is not normal; nothing about that guy is normal. From his crazy stories to his true appearance itself. But Bryce doesn't know that I know that, so I played along with his act.

"How so?"

"Reese, he showed me...people dying," he said. "Suffering. Crying. Begging. All because of...him. I-I-I don't know how he did it, but he did and those images still fuck me up, man. Miranda's had to come into my room to keep me from screaming during my sleep and not alarm the neighbors. Everything about him is just not right. He looks un-intimidating and casual, but then he gives you this smile—this specific, evil smile—and he's something else entirely."

"Bryce, you saw him once."

"And once was all I fucking needed," he hissed. "He said he would haunt me if I ever so much as breathed on you, and I wouldn't doubt him. He's...he's not human."

I scoffed in his face. "What drugs are you on?"

"I'm not fucking joking with you!" he blurted and suddenly clutched onto my shirt collar. I grabbed at his wrists to shove him off but then I noticed the look in his eyes. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen on him before. This isn't the Bryce that used to tease me and had beat me up because his prissy sister said so. That look in his eyes chilled me because it was something else—it was familiar.

It was the same look that shown so fiercely in Hunter's eyes.

Quickly, remembering Ben's threat, Bryce let go of me and covered his face, muttering to himself, "Calm down, calm down, I didn't mean it, okay? I didn't mean it, so don't...don't..."

No longer amused by Bryce's act, I said, "Listen, I, uh, appreciate your concern for me, but I'll be just fine."

"Reese, you have to listen to me—."

"I need to get to class," I interjected.

"Y-Your brother. You need to watch out for him—."

"Get some rest, man. Alright?"

As I stepped past him, he grabbed my arm and whispered, "You won't tell him I touched you, let alone spoke to you, right? Please don't. Haha, y-y-you can forget I was even here, haha. Because I wasn't! Right? Not at all! Haha. S-S-See you, Reese. I wish your brother well...!"

And with that, Bryce walked away and followed the crowd of teenagers eager to leave the auditorium. I stayed behind, leaning against the wall, with the ghost of his trembling fists against my neck. For a moment, I thought about him, and I thought about Hunter. But among all the stress that I've endured, this was not something I needed. Whatever the fuck Bryce is going on about is his own business. Let fuckin' Miranda deal with him. He shouldn't drag me or Ben into it. I won't even drag Ben into my bullshit. With a scoff, I fixed my shirt and made my way out of the auditorium.

...

The drive back to the apartment was quiet. Artem picked me up from school because Mom was paranoid about me driving myself. I can't blame her for her concern but I wish she didn't do that.

Artem isn't one to turn on the radio. I think there was only one time that I ever heard him listen to music at all, and that was around the time when I first got to know him.

One day, I visited the auto shop to talk to Artem about working there, since my brother recommended me, and that was the day I first discovered the training room upstairs, and the ruski's knack for combat. He was throwing hits at a punching bag while old, 1940s Russian music was playing from an old portable radio off to the side. I still remember the aggravated look in his eyes at my uninvited presence in his private training room.

"What do you want?" he asked me coldly.

I gulped and said, "I'm Hunter's brother, Reese. He quit recently and recommended I apply here. I have my papers with me."

He wiped off the sweat from his nose, turned, and said, "No position available."

Taken aback, I frowned and responded, "But I just said that my brother quit not too long ago, so there has to be an open position."

"And I just said there is not," he hissed, striking a hard punch into the poor punching bag. The chains that suspended it rattled and echoed in the spacious room.

"You're not even going to look at my application?" I said, holding up my papers.

He ignored me and continued striking fierce hits into the punching bag, until I thought it would break off at any second. The grainy voice of a man sang loud from the radio and it started to piss me off.

"Fine," I started, "I'll just look for work elsewhere."

Suddenly, he stopped and looked at me with those sharp, blue eyes. His sweat drenched hair hung over his face, making him look rugged and unapproachable. Nodding at me, he asked, "What happened to your face?"

At the time, I was going through shit with Bryce. He stole my backpack, which had my job application in it, and said he'd give it back to me if we met up at the park on Saturday. Despite my better judgement, I went to the park and, wouldn't ya know it, he and his friends jumped me. I fought as best as I could but I lost in the end. He still gave me my backpack though.

"Fell," I answered briefly. Like Artem would care. He doesn't even want me here. What Hunter said about him was apparently wrong.

The brunet sighed and turned the radio off, silencing the incessant, overdone tenor singing. He beckoned me to come over even though I didn't want to. Regardless of my convictions, I found myself walking up to him anyway.

Artem stepped aside, crossed his arms, nodded at the punching bag and said, "Hit that."

"Why...?"

"Just do it."

Confused, I pulled my hand back for a punch. Before I could attack, Artem interrupted, "Wrong."

"Wh-What?"

"You're making a fist before you throw it. You don't do that. Slows you down. Relax your hand and make a fist right before you make contact. Faster that way, and less strain." He proceeded to show me the correct way slowly so that I copied.

Shaking my head, I complained, "I don't understand why I'm doing this."

"Just punch."

"Why should I?"

"I'll look over your application if you do."

Scowling, I gave into his promise and punched the punching bag just as he showed me. It did feel faster that way...

"Again," Artem ordered. "Hit harder this time."

"You said you'd look over your application if I punched. I already did," I protested.

"I never gave you a limit. Now, punch harder," he insisted with a cold look in his eyes.

Groaning to myself, I pulled back my hand and punched. This time was slightly better than the last.

"Again. Harder," the brunet ordered.

I was gritting my teeth at this point, fed up with this guy's bullshit. I punched as hard as I could, imagining his face on the other end.

"Harder," he commanded.

I mustered up my strength to punch harder.

"Harder," he still insisted.

"I can't anymore," I huffed.

"Did I ask if you couldn't? Punch harder."

"That's as much as I can go...!"

"Again, I'm not asking you. Punch the damn thing harder, soplyak."

"Would you shut up?!" I yelled and finally gave the punching bag one last hit. This time the change was significantly better and the chain rattled loudly. As a result of this difference, the skin at my knuckles broke and bled. But the pain wasn't apparent due to my current anger.

"This good enough for you, asshole?" I hissed, showing him my hand.

"What do you think?"

"Take my damn papers already," I growled and slapped them against his chest. "I did what you wanted, now look at them...!"

He yanked the application out from under my palm and looked at it. He turned the pages over and said, "Even after that, you still want the job."

"Money is money," I huffed. His expression changed for the first time this entire encounter as he smirked.

"Well," he began, handing my papers back, "everything looks good."

The frown on my face eased up. "So then I got the job?"

"Didn't you hear me earlier? There's no position open."

Once again seething with rage, I tossed down the papers and growled, "Screw this! I'm glad Hunter quit this stupid—."

"There's no position open because it's yours now," he interjected.

I gaped at him, unsure if I should be angry or happy or dreadful. Again, I hissed at him, "Maybe you should've opened with that then."

"Had to see if you'd get through the interview," he replied with a shrug.

"Interview?!"

"Come in tomorrow so we can discuss further," he said.

With a scoff I stormed towards the door to leave.

"Are you refusing the job offer?" he called to me.

At the doorway, I whirled around and snarled, "Here's some constructive criticism: don't be a fuckin' asshole to people!"

He crossed his arms. "Yes or no, Reese?"

Fed up, I spat, "Yes...! Okay?"

"Good. Be here at four o'clock. If you have plans, cancel them and come here. Don't be late."

Before I could respond to him, he turned on the radio and drowned me out with his old music. I flipped him off while his back was turned before leaving for home. What I should have done when I got back was tell Mom and Hunter about how rude his ex-boss was to me. But the moment I got home, Mom was immediately concerned about the marks on my face. I couldn't find it within me to tell her about Artem. I didn't even tell her about it the next day when I met him again, or the day after that, or the day after that. I forgot to tell her about my first meeting with him completely. Now I'm glad I never did.

"Reese," his voice called out to me in the car. I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at him. He asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm good."

"Your stop," he pointed out. I didn't notice we made it to my apartment building until now.

"Thanks, ruski," I said as I shouldered my backpack. "See you around."

"Take care."

Before I exited the car, I stopped and looked at him again. "Artem?" He gave me his attention and waited for me to speak. I didn't want to give myself a chance to chicken out. I ended up leaning over and pulling him into a hug. He didn't protest in the slightest and rubbed my back.

"Thank you for everything," I murmured.

He squeezed me. "You know I'll always be here for you. You're important to me, just as your brother and your mother are. Don't forget you have me too. Bremya nikogda ne budet vashim—the burden is never yours alone."

I nodded, held onto him a little longer. "I won't forget. I won't forget..."

When we pulled away, he brushed my hair back and said, "Get some rest."

After saying another goodbye, I exited his car and made my way into the apartment building. On the way up, my phone started ringing in my pocket. I checked it urgently in case it was Mom, but ironically it was Ben. Reluctantly, I dismissed the call and continued on. I didn't feel like talking to him today. There's no way I can without making the mood depressing as shit.

On the elevator, my phone buzzed again. It was Ben's ID again. With a sigh, I dismissed the call and shoved my phone in my pocket. Immediately, it started buzzing again. I shook my head, shut my eyes, and dismissed the call while it was in my pocket. Not now.

On my floor now, my phone buzzed again. Cursing at myself, I dismissed the call for the fourth time. "I'm sorry, Ben. Just...not now."

I came to my door and unlocked it. As I entered and turned to lock up again, a familiar voice said, "Ignoring my calls now too?"

Startled, I jumped and turned around to find Ben sitting up from the couch with his phone to his ear. A relieved sigh escaped me, followed by a heavy sense of douchebaggery. "Ben, you're here..."

"Making me feel like a desperate teen here, Reese's puffs," he jested lightly.

"N-No, you're not, I just..."

Ben leaped over the back of the couch and came to stand in front of me. Nothing in his face said he was mad at me, but I wonder if something in my face said I was mad at myself.

"Why are you ignoring my calls?" he asked softly.

My heart was racing. On one hand I felt guilty for being such a blatant asshole to him, and wanted nothing more than to crawl away in a hole somewhere where he doesn't have to see me. On the other hand, it's been so long since I've seen him and he looks more gorgeous than I remembered, and his presence is gravitational, so much so that I just want to scoop him up and hold him tight.

"I'm not feeling well," I lied (partially).

He flashed me that show-stopping smile of his and said, "It's a good thing I came here then."

"Ben," I started, but didn't finish as I watched him walk into the kitchen. He started going for the cabinets, looking for something. He took out a box of Mom's tea and a mug. I set my backpack down and came up to him.

I grabbed his wrist. "I'll do it—."

"No," he interjected. I was in no shape to protest, especially when he looked up at me with those blue, illusion eyes that could probably send hundreds to their knees. My mouth suddenly felt dry and I took a seat at the table to let him do his thing. While he heated up the water for my tea, he grabbed a box that was off to the side and set it down in front of me. He opened it to reveal six donuts of different variety. I cracked a small smile.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Deliciousness. What else could it be?" he remarked.

"Tea and donuts?"

"So what? You could use the sugar. Eat up." And then he caressed his thumb against my chin before turning away to get my tea. The touch was so sudden and tender that I forgot how to function for a moment.

A few seconds later, he placed my cup of tea down and took a seat across from me. I was hesitant to eat in front of him, since he wasn't eating anything. Quietly, I said, "Uh, are you going to watch me eat?"

"Want me to look away?"

"No, that's worse. Why don't you have some too?" I suggested.

"I already ate."

"Eat again."

He chuckled. "That's all for you, Reese. I don't want to steal."

"Just take one."

With a gentle sigh, he took a sprinkled donut out of the box and replied, "This one okay?" I nodded. He ate it happily. I was almost overwhelmed by his positive vibe. Compared to mine, he's an absolute angel.

It was on my third donut that I realized just how hungry I was (or maybe they were just that good) and how funny I must look. I also realized that this was the moment I should talk, and I did. "Ben, listen, I'm sorry I ignored your calls. I probably look like and asshole—."

"It's okay, Reese," he assured me gently. "I understand. Take it easy."

"No." It was my turn to put my foot down. "It's not okay, Ben. I know you're just trying to make me feel better, what with getting me these donuts and making me tea and caring for me, but that doesn't change the fact that I messed up. I've been messing up since Hunter's accident. Blowing you off, ignoring your texts, and now your calls. You're right, it's a good thing you came by because I would've continued to be a douchebag at this rate.

"I'm sorry, Ben. Okay, I'm sorry. I don't care that you don't want me to say so—I am. There's no need to shield me or sugarcoat your feelings towards my behavior. It's time I stop acting like a fuckin' brat, especially towards you. So please take this time to tell me how pissed off and annoyed you are with me, because I wouldn't blame you. I'm angry at myself for being this way, but I can't help it. I don't want to hurt you; I don't want to say something I don't mean, I don't want to look like a damn fool in front of you, I don't want to lose you because of my bullshit. Not you, not again. I've had enough of pitying myself like some sad motherfucker, but I need you to tell me your honest feelings and get this over with. Just go ahead and say it. Yell at me if you have to. As long as it's out there, there's nothing for either of us to feel bad about. Go ahead."

The entire time, Ben had stared at me with a stern expression. I wondered what sort of rant was brewing inside his head, what storm would come out of his mouth of all the things that make me stupid. I'm ready for it, for anything. As long as the weight is off our shoulders, it's okay. As long as he's happy.

Still holding that serious expression, Ben got up from his seat and came around to my side. Shit, he's standing for this. Okay. Yeah, this is fine. He looked down at me, eyeing me up and down. I swear, if this moment wasn't supposed to be serious, I'd hold him right now. He looks so stunning and scary all at once. Oh god.

Against my expectation, his serious mien shifted to that of easy-going delight as he wiped his thumb against the corner of my mouth. He licked his thumb, then said with a smile, "Thank you for that noble speech whilst having chocolate donut frosting on your face."

"Shit," I muttered and felt the embarrassed blush catch my cheeks. Wow, Reese, way to be a fuckin' stuuuuuuupid.

He giggled (sweeter than the donuts) and held my face in his hands. Gently, he pressed his forehead against mine and said, "You want to know how I feel about your behavior? I'll tell you."

"Okay..." Here it goes.

"I'm not mad at you," he admitted. "Not at all. I'm just worried about you and scared for your well-being. Most of all, I feel sad for you. I know all of this must be agonizing to you and as much as I may want to, there's no real way for me to make you feel better. I hate the feeling of being helpless, especially for people who are dear to me. Reese...you are not a brat, nor are you a douchebag or an idiot. You have every right to feel angry, sad, and stressed, but you can't let those emotions take over you. You have to persevere over them, even if it takes one baby step at a time. And with every step, I'll be here for you, cheering you on. Okay? You are more than your demons. Is this a good enough scolding for you? Haha."

When he pulled away, I longed for his touch again. My heart started beating fast upon looking at his face. The glow in his eyes was sincere, and sweet, and wholesome, and beautiful. I wanted to stare into them forever. They made me feel something in my chest, in my very being, so strongly that I wrapped my arms around him because I had no way of expressing it. With my face against his stomach, I murmured, "That's perfectly fine. I'm...I'm glad."

The blonde wraith chuckled warmly and brushed his fingers through my hair. Please, more. I missed this. I missed him. I missed you, Ben.

"Hey, I've got something to show you," he stated.

"What?" I asked.

He stepped away and ran into the hall, where whatever it is he had to show me was waiting. When he came back, he hid behind the wall and said, "So, on the day we were supposed to meet, I had this for you. I know it isn't relevant anymore but...!"

A big smile brightened his face as he stepped out with a flourish, holding a poster in his hands. On it...were Reese's pieces candies that were skillfully and colorfully arranged in the question: PROM?

"Promposal!" Ben chimed excitedly. "What do you think? It's made out of Reese's pieces! Tiny yous!"

My smile was wide and unwavering. "You made that?"

"Yeah! Took me a while—and all the restraint in the world not to eat the candies—but it was worth it! Although I should say that I don't recommend eating them. You're supposed to, but one, they've been exposed because I was waiting for the next opportunity to show the poster, and two, I don't think the glue I used is edible. But anyway, promposal!~"

I got up to examine it closer. A part of me felt flattered at such a thoughtful, creative, and funny gesture, while another part of me felt bad for having missed out on this thoughtful, creative, funny gesture the first time. I decided to stick with feeling the former and enjoy the moment. "It's wonderful, Ben. Thank you."

"Anything for you, my peanut butter cup," he chirped. An eager light crossed his features and he handed me the poster. "Speaking of anything for you, I have another surprise."

He took out something from his pocket and held it to his chest. "Are you free this weekend?"

I cocked an eyebrow at him.

He laughed. "Oh, right. You never do anything. Okay, well! If you're up for it, I wanted to take you on a trip."

"A trip? To where?"

Practically bouncing on his feet, he showed me what was in his hands. It was a folded piece of paper, which he unraveled to show me a list. The title of the list read: Shit To Do In Vegas ( ' ▽ ' )

My eyes widened. "Las Vegas? Really??"

"Yes!" Then his energy eased up and he gingerly said, "I told you I would do something if we ended up missing prom. This is it. Since you've been so stressed out, I figured it could do you some good to get away for a while, have fun, relax, treat yourself. The perfect Vegas vacation. And what better vacation buddy to have for big Vegas than me!"

"No fucking way," I chuckled. "That sounds great, Ben."

He set down the paper. "But?"

I shook my head. "No but. That sounds like a great idea. Of course I'm gonna go."

He smiled again. "Ah, thank goodness! We can leave tomorrow night, just for more time. I know the perfect hotel to book, and I can show you all the best spots in the city, and we can hit up some casinos if you're feeling adventurous. That's not even the tip of the iceberg, either! It'll be amazing, Reese, I'll make sure of it! You deserve this. A gift you'll never forget."

"I'm sure I won't," I said. Once again, Ben was practically bouncing in his place and he came in for a hug. Rubbing his face against my chest, he murmured, "I swear to you, this will be fantastic. All for my peanut butter cup...!" The way he held me was so cute, I wanted to scream. God, he's too cute.

We're going to Las Vegas for the whole weekend, huh? I guess missing prom wasn't too big of a miss. Hunter will be happy to know that I've gotten this chance. He'll be ecstatic. And the thought of it being just Ben and I is making my heart race (I hope he doesn't hear it). This is perfect—more than perfect. Just me and Ben. Us. Away from here. God, I can hardly wait. And maybe, just maybe...this can be my chance. Yes, this has to be—this will be...!

All my struggle this past week seems to have been worth it. Hell fucking yeah I'm going to Vegas with my Ben.