broken pieces // leonardo dicaprio

Chapter Twelve

(Michael's POV)

"Leo and his new mystery lady had a huge argument in New York's rooftop restaurant last night. And here's some video footage, courtesy of one of Leo's fans, to prove it."

Anger.

All I felt was complete, repleting anger.

The face I thought I'd never see again, the face that had haunted me since the night I lost her. It was now staring at me through the static-riddled television screen in my living room.

I met her mother, Lisa, years back, after her dad left them. They were the best things that ever happened to me. They needed financial support, they needed a home and someone to look after them. I willingly provided that for them, of course. I was never much of a drinker, you wouldn't catch me at the bar every night or with cases of liquor stashed next to the fridge. I was never that guy.

At least not until Lisa died.

I had control of it in the beginning, only two or three bottles a night. But when I lost that control and completely let myself go, there was no going back. I became someone I couldn't even recognize. I became a monster. She used to hide. Every night she would go to her closet and hide just like her mother would have told her to. I hated seeing her hide, it was like she didn't trust me. Like I would ever even think of hurting her. Unfortunately, she was right.

As the years passed, she began to look more and more like her mother. It made me despise her. Lisa just left me, she just died like she didn't have a family to live for. Then I convinced myself that I had to make her pay. I became that monster for her, further circumvented by the endless bottles of liquor.

I remember the first time I hit her. I remember the look of horror on her face, the hollowing paleness in her cheek illuminated by the dimly lit bathroom at the end of the hallway. I remember seeing the sparkle of innocence dwindle from her caramel brown eyes. I remember the solemn tear running carelessly down her cheek. I knew then that I had lost her trust, I had lost whatever love she might have hidden within her heart.

The nights that followed weren't any better, but each time she became more confirmative and I became equally more ruthless. There is no excuse for what I did to her, physically and emotionally. I wish I could apologize, but it can't fix anything.

I don't know what it was that set me off that night. She was nineteen. I was so... angry. I don't remember much, if I'm honest. But I remember waking up in the drivers seat of our white Cadillac and not seeing her anywhere. I looked in the house and in every store she visited frequently. I called her phone hundreds of times. But it finally hit me: She was gone. She was really gone.

I never thought that she would really go. I promised her that I would get better, that I would join AA or something. But she was gone, just like her mother.

And there she was. On the "news" with that DiCaprio kid. Screaming, yelling, and clearly miserable. He was ruining her, almost as I did. I wasn't going to sit back and let her get hurt again.

I had to find her.

I stood up from the sofa and grabbed my keys. I guess I'm driving to New York.

Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait guys. I will update more frequently, I promise. I have a lot planned for this story. Also, if you forgot who Michael was just go reread Intro-Addison. Thank you guys for your support.

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