𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍 - 𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑

-ch. 26-

Age: 22
(The song They're singing at the gig:
Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys)
-Liz POV-

We were in the middle of a gig, but Vance seemed a little woozy. I couldn't blame him, his little brother was sick. Brady had gotten skinnier from not eating, drugs all the time, he wasn't getting better. I just thought Vance was tired.

Vance could barely keep his eyes open the whole last song. By the end, everyone still clapped, but Vance practically stumbled backstage.

"Vance are you okay?" I went up to him.

"Hmm...? Yeah, Lizzie...Great, peachy...let's go home."

"Yeah, let's go home..." it was better than him not wanting to go home.

Once we got inside the house, I had to hold him up. Ruby was on the floor eating gummy bears, and Andres was in the bathroom. He was babysitting.

"Hey guys! Is Vance okay?" He came out of the bathroom.

"Yeah, I think...I'm just gonna get him to the room. Thanks so much, Andy. Really. You can go if you'd like."

"Of course. Be safe, kay?" He kissed my forehead.

"Love you, andy!" I smiled and he left. I sat Vance down on the bed and he was just sweaty, staring at the ground. His bands were stuck to his forehead.

"Vance? Look at me. How many fingers am I holding up?"

"...eight?"

"no, four." I was about to look in the drawer for Tylenol incase he has a headache.

"Liz, we don't have to uh..."

"What?"

"That, there's nothing in there...no reason to open it."

He was hiding something. "It doesn't hurt to look."

"No-" but I had already opened it. Two packs of cigarettes. I just stared. I didn't want to believe it. But I turned, kicking under the bed because he keeps telling me that there's nothing down there when I look for missing shoes and stuff. Empty beer bottles.

"Vincent." I couldn't even look at him.

"Hm?"

"Don't tell me your younger brother is influencing you right now."

"I'm just having a few, i have a lot on my mind."

"A few? This is at least a bucket full, Vincent."

"C'mon with the first name, Lizzie..."

"Don't 'Lizzie' me. How long have you been keeping this? I could've helped you."

"Eyy. You can't be talking...you drink a lot too..." he was slurring already. But he was slurring while singing too.

"I can handle it."

"No, you can't...you get aggressive."

"So do you! And you're already aggressive enough."

"Hey, I've never hit you..."

"Right but you come close."

"Lizzie..."

"It's fine, we can get rid of everything..."

"No, no..."

"Yes, vance. You promised."

"Promised what?"

"That you'd stop."

"I don't remember that..."

"7-11? The night you crashed the truck? You got a beating after. You smoked and I told you to promise me you'd stop. And you promised."

"C'mon, liz...we were fourteen."

"Vance I trust you with this stuff!"

"Just get off my back, alright?!!" He was already raising his voice, and if I kept pushing, it wouldn't be pretty.

"Vance...I'm just gonna take the beer away for a little, okay?" I turned to leave but he grabbed my wrist hard. I almost yelped in pain, but all I did was gasp and turn.

"Sorry, sorry..." he let go. "I'm sorry."

"Vance- you need a minute...I'm gonna go..."

"Liz..."

I was heading out the door, when he stood to follow me, but I shut the door behind me. I knew it would be harsh, but I had to. I locked it.

"Liz?" I heard from inside, he tried to open the door. I knew he had the strength to break it down. So I moved quickly to get any beer or anything else in the house out.

"Mommy? What happened with daddy?" Bonnie asked, sitting next to Ruby.

"Nothing, bonita. keep playing."

"Okay!" She continued to play with Ruby, who was two years old now.

"Liz. Open the door." He tried opening it. Since he was drunk, I hoped he wouldn't have the energy to hit the door or anything. It would scare the girls. I took out all the beer and threw it out as fast as I could.

"Elizabeth. Open this door right now. I'm not kidding."

"Vance, I have to. I'm sorry, this isn't healthy."

"Liz I'm not joking."

"Neither am I."

"Liz."

"Vance, you're not victor, okay? Don't act like it." I knew that was harsh, but that wasn't what Vance was like. Yes, he could get aggressive. But he would never, ever lay a finger on me. He threatened to murder anyone who did. That one time where he grabbed my wrist...well- make it two times. But that's it. He's never hit me, or anything like that. Ever.

He went silent. I definitely went too far.

"Lizzie...please open the door..." I was still getting all the cig packs out and in the trash.

I finally opened the door, and he was leaning on it.
He tripped a bit, his hands on the ground.

"I'm sorry, Lizzie...I don't want to be like him...I promised myself I wouldn't...and I promised you...I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry..." Was he crying? He rarely cries around anyone. Sure, when we were younger, like three times or so. But he actually stopped after that.

He sniffed, so I knew he was crying. I sat on my knees in front of him, cupping his cheeks.

"You'll never be like him, okay? I know you and love you." I kissed his nose. "Let's rest, okay?" I helped him up, and lay him on the bed.

After tucking the girls in their beds, I went to our room, and lay next to him. He smelled like beer and cigarette smoke. It took me back to when we were fourteen, Before we even dated. He didn't smell like that anymore, not after dating me. Not after the promise.

I wanted to cry, but I didn't. I stayed strong, because that's what he needs. He stayed strong for twenty-two years. Even if he got kidnapped at fourteen, had worse things done at fourteen, been abused his whole childhood, raised two children on his own, even one only one day younger than him, working, paying bills since the age of six. A kindergartener.

A kindergartener paying bills, can you imagine it? You can't. It's not something you see everyday. I had to repay him just this once at least. It was my turn.