I'll Be Fine

It Meant Nothing

After Gotham hugs me, we stay that way for awhile, me sobbing into his shoulder, drenching his shirt. It lasts for a good 10 minutes before I come to my senses and pull away from him, attempting to wipe away my mascara. It doesn't work. How do people put up with this crap?!

I let out a small sigh, feeling like I've disappointed myself. I cried. In front of Gotham, of all people!

But most importantly...I CRIED!

Sophia, what the HELL is wrong with you?! You swore to yourself you wouldn't cry anymore!

..Wait, I did?

Yeah, ya did! Wai-actually-um...okay, maybe you didn't, but still!

The voices in my head wage a war. Like always, the war ends with the conclusion being I probably won't live a long life on my own anyways. What does it matter if I cry? Now that I think about it, it doesn't matter what I do. It's not like there will be anyone left to remember.

The rest of the car ride is devastatingly quiet. Deafeningly quiet. Suffocatingly  quiet, even.

It seems like an eternity before Gotham pulls up in front of my house. I open the car door before turning to look at Gotham. He looks on-edge, almost cautious. "Are you gonna be okay?" He asks carefully, seemingly thinking about each word carefully.

"I'll be fine," I respond automatically. I always am, after all.

He gives a slight nod, allowing me to get out and close the passenger side door behind me.

"Thanks for the ride," I call over my shoulder, walking up to my front door. I dig for my keys in my pants pocket. Nope. I search through my hoodie pocket. Nada. I start to go into a panic before hearing a jingling noise from behind me. I turn around and find Gotham smirking at me, holding my keys. "Looking for these?" He asks, amused.

I simply glare at him while walking over to retrieve my keys. Once at his car, I snatch them out of his hands, spinning on my heel and walking up to my front door.

Here we go again. I let myself in, making sure to lock the door behind me.

I get in, kick off my shoes, and relax.

You know what? A shower sounds amazing right about now.

I head into the upstairs bathroom, heading into the shower.

After all, I do  look like a mess right now.

*****

40 glorious minutes later, I step out of the shower and quickly slip into a random t-shirt and some shorts. I flop down on my bed, turning on Netflix. I eventually doze off.

The next morning I can't get Gotham out of my head.

I wonder if he remembers-

My thoughts are interrupted by my phone ringing. Unknown number. "Hello?" I say, a slight hint of confusion in my voice.

"Is this Sophia Allen?" A feminine voice asks.

"Um..yes..." I respond, unsure of whether I should keep talking or hang up right now.

Eh, might as well keep talking. No harm done, right?

"This is Mika from Hot Topic, and we'd like you to come in for an interview." The lady responds, sounding slightly enthusiastic.

"Oh-uh-really? Okay, great!" I respond, stuttering.

Mika laughs. "Are you available on the 30th?" She asks.

"Absolutely! I mean...I think I can clear my schedule for that day," I respond (somewhat) cooly.

"Great.  I'll see you then!" Mika hangs up.

Did I really just get my first job interview?! Yessss! Now I can make money!

Not that I'll be able to spend it how I would like...oh well, having a roof over my head is more important than *sniffle* new Harry Potter merch, or, or, you know, anything else...

Much as I hate to admit it...

Gah, why'd I have to be so spoiled! Mom was always  working, and-

Wait! That's it! Surely mom left me in her will! Who do I call to find out, though?

Hmm, maybe the local courthouse?

I decide to call them up. Worst case, she didn't have a will. She still has a bank account, though.

What a horrible thought about a dead person...

I tense up as this thought crosses my mind. She chose Mason. She knew what went on but she didn't leave him.

She brought this upon herself, as much as it pains me to admit it.

I hear a car pull up to the house. I look outside and see Gotham heading up to the front door.

I let him in before he has a chance to knock. Might as well get this over with.

"Hey...are you ok-" He begins to ask but I let out a sigh. "I'm fine," I cut him off, practically shoving him inside and shutting the door. It's freezing outside.

He gives me one of those looks. One of those disbelieving, "keep talking" looks. I groan and look away from him. "Don't look at me like that," I mumble. "I'll be fine."

"You always say that." He observes curiously. "But I don't believe you."

"Yeah, well, it's true. Learn to accept it or get out."

He smirks at me. "I also don't buy the facade."

"Oh yeah?" I challenge him. This should be mildly entertaining.

"Yeah. I think you're actually nice. Energetic and caring, even."

"I'm sorry, have we met?" I pause before continuing. "Oh, wait, that's right. I don't waste my time on egotistical jerks. Specifically ones that break into my bedroom, stalk me, finds photos of someone you didn't even know..."

"In my defense, you're not exactly safe walking around on your own." He argues, amused.

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much. And God forbid I walk down the street." I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm on the last sentence.

"You know, you could be a little more grateful." He points out.

"You're right. Thank you so much for stalking me relentlessly. And if you're talking about yesterday, you were just in the right place at the right time. Nothing more." I scoff.

"So we're just gonna pretend that yesterday you DIDN'T break down sobbing in front of me? You needed someone and of all the people to see you cry, you chose me." He mutters, his eyes turning dark.

"I didn't "choose" ANYTHING!" I shriek. "It's not MY fault Mason's dragged me into this huge mess! It's not MY fault he's an abusive prick who got locked away for being drugged and MURDERING someone! I was weak and you were there because you KNEW I'd need someone because you fucking STALKED me, Gotham! So don't act all high and mighty over something that DOESN'T MATTER. It meant nothing," I spit out, infuriated.

He snaps. I can see it in his eyes, the expression on his face. "You know what? I'm trying to help you, but fine. When the people after Mason target you, I won't be there. Find another shoulder to cry on for sympathy." He seethes. "You with your whole attention whore act is getting old. You want the same fate as Mason? By all means, leave me out of it." A pause to regain control over his temper. "I know the guys that are out to get you, and they know no limits. Rape, drugs, trafficking; you name it, they're pros at it. And you know what? Maybe all you're good for is being bossed around by someone more powerful than yourself so you can wallow in self pity and cry that no one's there for you after you shut them all out." He finishes, leaving. But I notice that instead of slamming it behind him like a guy in a cliche romance book after a big fight that possibly leaves the bond between to people shattered, he leaves the door open a crack, just to annoy me.

....Well damn, he has a bigger vocabulary than I expected...