In his arms, yeah, she’s waiting for Superman

Andy’s P.O.V.

I sit on the counter in utter shock, trying to understand what just happened. Louis kissed me then walked away. I wasn’t that bad at snogging, was I? I realize that I’m sitting in a men’s bathroom, and unless I want something interesting to happen, I better get out.

I quickly hop of the counter, testing my cut leg with my weight. It almost buckles so I decide to limp/ hop my way out. As I hobble out of the bathroom, I’m greeted with several whistles but I ignore them, not in the mood for male attention at the moment.

I scan the crowd for Louis, trying to find him so I can make him explain why he kissed me then suddenly left. When I can’t see him through the haze of dust that always inhabits clubs I sigh and try to find Beau. Maybe he’s sobered up, but I find it highly unlikely. If anything, he’s probably only drunk more.

I slip off my heels and find a stool. Sitting on it, I sigh. I’m so tired of having to wait for Beau and thinking about Louis. I just need a break. I absently rub on my leg, pressing harder and harder until blood seeps through.

Someone walking past brushes against my leg and I wince, putting a hand to it. I shouldn’t have pressed it, but it was like pressing a bruise; you did it once and you just kept doing it.

A girl barely wearing clothes is literally pushed up against me as a man she’s with is almost eating her face. I move away from her in disgust but she removes herself from her partner to glare at me. That’s when I notice the red patch on her leg.

It’s blood from my leg.

I meet her eyes and she’s absolutely furious.  Why, I’m not exactly sure.

“What is on my leg?” she asks, venom dripping from her tone.

“Um, skin?” I offer, but I don’t think that’s a satisfactory answer.

“Is this a drink? Your lipstick?” she guesses, looking at it.

The guy she was with kisses her neck, but she’s too busy yelling at me to pay much attention to him.

“Why did you put this on my leg?” she screeches.

“I didn’t,” I defend. “You’re the one that bumped into me.”

Her eyes narrow. “What are you even doing in a club, you little slut?”

I blink. “Well,” I stammer.

“What, no smartass comment this time?” she taunts.

“Mach es dir selber,” I say in German.

“What did you say?” she asks snottily, her nose in the air.

“What’s the matter? You can’t see your face to put your makeup on as it’s all over your face, and now you can’t hear?” I say.

Her mouth drops open and she takes a step closer to me, jabbing her finger in my direction. “Listen, I don’t know who you are, coming into this club and wiping some disgusting shit on me and interrupting my night, but you better back the hell off.”

I stand up too, but being so short, it’s not very intimidating. “Look, I don’t know who you are to come and bump into me then accuse me of ruining your night. My night is already busted and I don’t feel like fighting you.”

“Why?” she mocks. “Scared you’ll lose?”

“No,” I say. “You’re not worth the effort.”

By now quite a crowd has gathered to watch our verbal fight. Some people are chanting for us to fight while others just smile drunkenly, waiting to watch the drama unfold, just another bar fight. I don’t want to fight. I’m not weak, but my leg is hurt and I don’t want attention drawn to myself.

Too late, I think wryly.

“What, you’re just going to stand there?” the girl says.

“Don’t you have a selfie to go take?” I ask tiredly, looking for an escape.

This is the last straw for the girl. She launches herself at me, fingernails aimed at my face. I duck but she catches my leg, on the cut. I yelp and stumble, trying to catch myself but my face decides to introduce itself to the floor.

I groan, picking myself up from the floor but the girl hits me in the arm, hard, right where Beau hit me earlier. I scream and instinctively raise my hand to defend myself from her other fist, and land a punch of my own, right on her nose.

Her hands immediately go to her nose and she looks at me with a newfound hatred. I back away slowly and she jumps on my again, dragging me down and slapping me.

I take this opportunity to look up and I see Beau leading another girl into the bathroom, using the distraction to hide from me. I feel my heart break and jealousy rises in me and I am about to fight with a renewed vigor when the girl gets off of me.

“Hey! Break it up!” a familiar voice shouts, pushing their way into the circle.

It’s Louis. Great. I really need him here right now.  He helps me up before turning to the crowd.

“What happened?” he asks.

“That bitch wiped some weird shit on me and then insulted me!” the girl whines.

“Then you jumped on me!” I retort. “And you’re the one who bumped into me in the first place!”

“Calm down,” Louis says. “It’s over, everyone’s fine, let’s just go home.”

Louis takes me by the arm and leads me outside, where he turns on me.

“What were you thinking, starting a bar fight when you’re hurt?” he scolds.

“I didn’t start anything!” I exclaim. “All I did was defend myself!”

“And that’s fine!” Louis waves his arms in the air in frustration. “But you can’t go around talking smack to sluts! They get mad and start fights for drama!”

“Well I didn’t know that!” I defend. “I don’t go to clubs that often!”

“Clearly!” Louis shouts back. “What, do you live under a rock?!”

This comment stings because it’s actually true. And it burns even more because he kissed me earlier and now he’s yelling at me.  “Just leave me alone, Louis. I just want to go home.”

With that, I turn around and start walking, ignoring Louis’ protests behind me.  I start walking very fast, trying to lose sight of the club. I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m not going home to Beau. I’ve had enough of his bullshit. I’ve been hurt enough by him to finally loose the image of him that I fell in love with. That was just an act, a façade, a fake. He is a cruel and abusive man and he doesn’t love anyone.

I’m done. I’m done with boys hurting me, I’m done with boys messing with my mind, I’m done with boys yelling at me. I don’t deserve that; I’m worth more than that.

There was a time when I thought Beau was the answer to all my prayers; that he was the best thing that ever happened to me. There was a time that he loved me and he actually cared about me.

Then there was a time when I thought Louis was my Superman. There was a time when I thought he could save me from the monster that is Beau; that he would sweep me up in his arms and carry me into the sunset. 

Then there is now. Now I see that I don’t need anyone to save me. I don’t need to rely on anyone. I don’t need anyone’s help or sympathy. I’ve been through a lot on my own. I’ve been through family drama; I’ve been through the move to a whole new country; I’ve been through an abusive boyfriend. I’ve been hurt more than I can count, by people who I thought I could trust. That just proves that you can’t trust anyone. They will just hurt you in the end.

So I’m done with people. I’m going off on my own, and all I need is myself. I don’t need my own personal superhero. I don’t need a Superman to save me. I don’t need a Superman to scoop me up and carry me away.  

I’m my own Superman.  

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Hi guys! Sorry for the long wait, I couldn't think of anything to write for the next lyrics. I'm sorry also, I have to literally force myself to write this one, and even though I like the idea, I'm just not bouncing up and down to write it. I noticed I hadn't updated this one since May 6th, so I listened to the song and started writing. I wasn't sure about it in the beginning, but towards the end, it started to come together and I really like it. I'm seriously debating if this should be the end of the book, even though I'm barely halfway through the song, and I asked my sister and she said no, but this ending would be a really good ending. What do you guys think? Leave a comment below! So I hope you like it as much as I do, please vote and comment because I really appreciate it! Bye!

-11tay99