Marlboro Love [Billy Hargrove]

Chapter 1: Cigarettes and Camaros

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-'ˏ Charlotte Anderson's Pov ˎ'-

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The Anderson's House
Thursday , 10:40 p.m
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TW: physical abuse, alcoholism
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"I DON'T CARE!" I screamed. My arms thrashed wildly as I angrily stomped down the hallway.

Glass exploded from the bottle that had just been thrown towards me. Slowly I turned around, the smell of beer invading the area. Horrified I looked up at my father who's chest was heaving, a half smoked Camel cigarette dangled from his hands. The hand that held his beer was now empty and clenched in a fist.

I slammed back the tears that threatened to spill and forced my face into an uncaring stare.

If I just don't fight back, it'll all be over soon.

"Pick that up." He states before turning to leave.

"No." I retort as loudly as I could manage. I meant for it to come out angrily, but the adrenaline rushing through my system betrayed me and caused my voice to crack.

"What did you say?"

"I said no."

My mother watched from the end of the hallway. She was frowning. Whether it was directed towards my father or me, I don't want to know.

Before I knew it he had cleared the space between us and I was against the wall. "Do. Not. Disrespect me." He said with his finger directly in my face. Trying to calm myself I caught my lower lip in between my teeth and waited, waited for him to get it over with or walk away.

"Do you understand me?" He yelled slurring on his words a little bit.

I chose to stay silent. I understood this was going to end badly for me, and I understood that things would never change. Just stay silent and get through it.

My lack of response angered him. I could tell because he backhanded me and my face whipped to the side.

"Clean that shit up." He concluded before walking back down the hallway and into the living room, the tell tale creak of the recliner letting me know that he had settled down for the night.

Slowly I released my bottom lip because I had started to taste copper. Spitting out some of the blood I numbly walked to my room and grabbed my backpack.

"Sweetie." My mom said worriedly as I made my way to the back door. I shrugged her off when she attempted to touch my face before slamming the door.

The cold crisp air did wonders for clearing the fog in my brain. The walk was short when you had a lot to think about and I quickly found myself at the old park on Cherry Lane.

I sat myself down on a swing, wrapping my hands around the cool metal. 'God would I kill for a smoke' I thought to myself. Looking out towards the parking I practically shouted 'Bingo!' in excitement.

A blue Camaro was in sight, a boy propped up against his hood was smoking a cigarette. Wasting no time I quickly made my way over, hands anxiously pulling at my backpack straps.

I figured the street lights were bright enough that it'd deter him from anything in the event that he too was angry and just wanted to be left alone.

As I approached he didn't even bother to look up at me.

"You have an extra?" I bluntly ask.

His head lazily looks up as if he didn't see me approach him. His hand comes up and slowly takes his cigarette out of his mouth, the smoke coming out in tendrils before he nods. I smile in excitement and shift my weight as he stares at me and reaches his arm back to grab the box off of his hood. He extends his arm and I practically rip it out of his hands. When I look back up he already had a lighter in his hand. I hold it in between my lips, feeling the sting of my split lip as he lights it for me. When he's done I take a step back and take a deep drag.

"Thank you." I tell him as I let my arm dangle with the cigarette tightly held in between my fingers.

He simply nods before looking away to continue smoking. I almost wished he would talk, but wishing is stupid and he clearly wasn't going to start a conversation. I turn to walk back towards the swing set and occupy myself.

"What's your name?" He calls out. His voice was deeper than I had expected so I quickly turned on my heel to face him.

"Charlotte."

"Why are you out here at night Charlotte?" He asks.

"Doesn't everyone who loves their life take walks at night?" I joke.

He finally cracks a smile. A slight tug on the right side of his lips followed by a dimple. He shrugs before taking another drag.

"Whats your name?" I blurt out, not wanting the conversation to end.

"Billy."

"Billy," I repeat. "And what are you doing out here at night?"

"I love my life." He responds.

It was my turn to crack a smile so I laughed at his comment. "Yeah, I figured."

He juts his chin out and points to my lip. "That have a story?"

I debated how I was going to answer for a moment. As I did so I studied him, my eyes landing on his cheek bone that was starting to bruise.

"I fell?" I said stupidly, clearly sounding like I was lying.

This time he laughs before nodding. He was finished with his cigarette and threw it down.

"Have a better night Charlotte." He says as he unlocks his car door.

I just nod before turning to walk away. At the last second I look over my shoulder to watch him speed out of the lot.

"Fuck." I mutter before finishing the rest of my own cigarette.