Less Than Zero || The Weeknd Fanfiction

28

Samantha
I start my car and take a deep breath. I take a sip from my water and put my seatbelt on. Fear starts to go through me as I think about what I'm doing. I don't want to go back to my apartment, but I need to get my things.

"Just go get your stuff and get out," I tell myself. I put the car in reverse and start the drive back to my place.

I finally pull into the parking lot of my apartment and anxiety starts to rush through my body. I don't know if I can do this. What was I thinking coming alone? The alcohol definitely clouded my judgement. I shouldn't even be driving right now.

I put the car in park and take a deep breath. I look at the time and it's 8:45. I have no idea how long Bryson is going to be at the studio so I need to hurry.

"You're okay, you can do this," I assure myself. I step out the car and start to make the trek up and the three flights of stairs. With shaky hands, I take my keys and slowly unlock the door. I take a breath before opening it, hoping that no one would be here. I step into the apartment and I am met with silence. I let out my breath and start to look around. Everything looks clean. Bryson was probably trying to win me over, he never cleans.

I quickly head into my room and into the closet to start grabbing my clothes. I stop in my tracks when I see my clothes all ripped up on the floor. My shoes are torn apart and cut up, and there is bleach poured everywhere. Well guess we wasn't trying to win me over.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I say out loud. What a bitch move. I angrily grab my suitcases and pack what's left of my clothes. I open the safe that has our personal information in there and luckily everything is okay. Quickly, I start grabbing all of my things from the apartment and stuff it into my suitcases. I'm trying to go as fast as I can just in case Bryson is on his way back.

I make sure to pack all my most important belongings that haven't already been ruined and zip up my bags. I make my way to the front door dragging the heavy bags. I take one last glance at my first apartment and a feel a ping of sadness in my heart. I wish things could've ended differently. A sigh escapes my mouth and I turn around, leaving the apartment for good.

Slowly stepping down the stairs, I carry my heavy bags down and head to my green mini cooper. I put my things in the small trunk of my car and shut the door.

"You finally decided to show up," I hear a voice say behind me. A knot forms quickly in my stomach and I immediately feel like I'm going to throw up the Henessy that I drank earlier.

I turn around and see Bryson. He's wearing a black Nike hat with a white hoodie with jeans. He looks all cleaned up and fresh, his cologne smelling strong. I clear my throat and finally find the courage to speak.

"I was just leaving," I say nervously, struggling to look at him. His eyebrows furrow and a confused look appears on his face.

"Leaving? You haven't been home in almost two days. We need to talk," he says, trying to grab my hands. I quickly snatch them away. I still feel faded and my drunken courage steps in the place of my sober brain.

"There's nothing to talk about," I snap. "I'm leaving you. That's it. That's all there is to say."

"So you're just gonna up and leave me after everything I've done for you?" He says and I roll my eyes at him.

"Yeah because every girl wants to be cheated on and abused," I say sarcastically. Bryson pauses and looks as if he's about to hit me, but then he looks around the parking lot realizing that there could be many witnesses. He grabs ahold of my wrist and pulls me closer to him.

"Quit being smart. Just come inside and let me talk to you," he says lowly. He's so close to my face that I can feel his breath on mine.

"Let go of me," I grunt, pulling my wrist out of his grasp. "I am not going anywhere with you. I'm not talking about anything. You deaded the idea of talking once you decided to put your hands on me. I'm done Bryson. I can't be with someone like you."