*･῾ ᵎ⌇ "welcome to new york" ࿔*:･ﾟ
ooo. reality
warnings: strong language, discussions
about sexual assault in the second half
of the chapter (summary at end)
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❬ . ˚ ◞ ♡ ⃗ ☕️ * ᵕ̈ ೫ ˚ ∗ : ❭
All Clay could find himself thinking about was how he was being stabbed in the back by one of his best friends. Perhaps he did have his best intentions at heart, and you certainly can't help your feelings, but to act on it? That was simply too far.
Dragging the black case behind him on his way out of the airport, he ran to the first taxi cab he could see and threw his luggage in the back seat beside him and handed the written address to the older man in the driver's seat.
"Don't you want that in the trunk?" he asked, gesturing to the case through the mirror.
Clay shook his head, making eye contact with the reflection. "No, I'm in a hurry," he responded, leaning back in the seat and beginning to anxiously pick at the skin around his nails.
The man pulled out of airport parking lot, looking into the mirror to peer at the nervous young man. "Girlfriend?"
Clay looked up, realising he would likely be in the cab for a while and choosing to engage with the man. He let out a soft chuckle, nodding slightly. "Not quite," he disagreed.
"Boyfriend?"
"No- It's a girl," he assured politely, shaking his head. "Need to get there before my friend."
The man's eyebrow quirked up, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "Why's that?"
Clay hesitated. "I think he loves her too."
He laughed, nodding his head and slowing the cab at a crossing to allow the people waiting to cross over the road. "Girl's will do that to ya," he said as if it was brand new news to world that Clay had never known before (he had). "But, I'll ask you this: is she worth it?"
Clay nodded instantly. "Of course!" he answered as if it were obvious. "She's amazing. She's...perfect."
Nodding and turning a corner, the driver chuckled hoarsely. "Then she's worth it. You gotta stick to it, kid. Don't give up without a fight."
Clay smiled at the driver and gave an assuring nod to his reflection. "I wasn't planning on it."
When Amity opened the door to her apartment, the last person she had expected to see standing there was Clay. Her mouth dropped open and she took no time in engulfing him in a tight embrace. He had returned it, of course, resting his chin on top of her head and refusing to be the person who let go first. They eventually did, though, as they were standing out in the corridor and it probably looked strange to the people prone to gossiping in Amity's building who had come and gone.
So Clay dumped his suitcase and Amity immediately took him into the city, showing him around (Clay was reluctant at first seen as she had pretty much broken her leg). They stopped at a hot dog cart near Central Park, Amity wasting no time in taking him over there.
With the sun setting to their side, the pair slowly walked along the path through the park, talking about nothing and everything simultaneously. They had covered as many topics as they possibly could, and now it was nearing midnight and they we lying side by side on the grass, staring up at the dark sky.
"I hate the city," Amity announced, moving their hands onto their stomach.
Clay furrowed his brow, keeping his eyes fixed on the sky above them. At first he wondered why, but it was an easy solve. He knew a lot about Amity — from when they were younger, and from recently. He knew she didn't like loud noises and if there were a lot of them at once she become uncomfortable. He knew she loved the stars, and with all the cars and smoke in the city it made it harder to see them.
He nodded a little, understanding it. "Where would you like to live?" he asked her, turning his head to the side and resting his cheek on his upper arm.
Amity pursed her lips in thought, squinting at the clouds. They had thought about it for a long time, where they saw herself. The thought of leaving the city did scare her a little (it was all she knew, after all), but the independence was thrilling. Sure, it was a nice place. But it just wasn't for Amity.
Amity would always picture a house away from the city, but close enough to travel to daily if needed. It would be a pretty big house, one with a big garden (maybe even a pool? Or was that pushing her luck a little?) and even a couple animals — a cat and a dog, at least one of each. Children, however, were not something Amity saw herself with. Not yet, at least.
It would likely be safer, too. So much happened in the city, and they would know. Amity couldn't count the amount of times they had gone home crying because of something that had happened. And, when she lived with her parents, it was just plain embarrassing having to go home bleeding or crying or on the verge of a panic attack from something that she had been involved in. One time, her parents had even been called into hospital because poor Amity had their nose broken while simply walking in the street — well, at least that's what they told them.
"I want a big house in the countryside like in Marley and Me," they responded, a small smile twisting onto her expression.
"I think that's the only movie I've actually sobbed at," Clay commented, unintentionally moving the subject on.
"Really?" Amity turned her head to her side, looking at Clay. He nodded, a lopsided smile. "You have clearly never watched The Green Mile," she told him, chuckling a little.
"Never," he admitted, watching their face fall. "We can go watch it now if it makes you feel better."
"How have you not seen it? It's a classic!" Amity exclaimed, raising a hand into the air and beaming.
Clay, laughing, moved onto his knees and looked down at her. "Then let's go and watch it."
Amity had already started crying once, and now there wasn't long to go until the end of the movie and she refused to cry even harder. Clay didn't cry when she did, but Amity could tell that he had been close to crying.
It was a long movie (three hours) but, because Amity kept pausing it to talk to him about something they were reminded of, it had been almost four and a half hours since they began watching it. Clay wasn't mad or anything — in fact, he encouraged her.
But now, the movie was coming to an end and Amity had managed to make both herself and Clay cry. Amity squeezed their eyes shut, refusing to watch the execution scene and instead only listen.
Amity was first shown The Green Mile by her father when she was ten and, no matter how desensitised to gore she had become, she refused to watch the executions.
Wiping away her tears, Amity looked at Clay. He dried his eyes with the sleeves of his hoodie, only adding to the redness below his eyes. He looked to his side, nodding a little. "I hate you."
"It's so heartbreaking, right?" they agreed, throat raw from the crying.
"The man with the mouse died," he whined, expression twisted into a frown. "He was so nice for someone on death row."
"And he didn't wet the sponge." Amity nodded, wiping her eyes. "He didn't deserve that!"
"He didn't!" Clay snivelled, nodding rapidly.
They continued talking about the movie, gradually moving off the topic. After an hour or so, Clay had fallen asleep beside her.
Amity sighed, their hand holding Clay's sleeve so she wouldn't lose him in the crowd of sweaty bodies inside the house. Rebecca woke them late afternoon, rambling about a party happening that night and refusing to let Amity miss this one. So, Amity grabbed random clothes from the chair at her desk and put on some makeup and reluctantly dragged Clay to a stupid college frat party.
Amity released her hold of him, stopping beside Bex and her large circle of friends. She leaned in closer to the boy by her side and he draped his arm around her shoulders. Amity turned away from her friend and gave them all a smile.
"This is Clay," they introduced, gesturing to the man by her side. Clay offered a smiled and a small wave, greetings being directed at him.
"Do you want a drink?" Jackson offered, gesturing behind him to the large bowl of alcohol-spiked fruit punch.
"No, I don't drink," Clay responded, Amity shaking her head without a word.
Amity leaned back against the white wall, arms hugging their chest uncomfortably. She had barely been there for five minutes and she was already waiting to leave.
"Christine's looking hot tonight," Jackson announced, whistling underneath his breath as the red haired girl passed by him.
"Watch it," the girl warned, punching his arm in passing.
"Ooh, she's got bite!" he exclaimed, beaming.
"Are you trying to be funny?" Amity asked, raising her eyebrows.
"I'm being serious, she's hot!"
"Don't harass her." Amity pushed a hand through their hair and sighed.
"Don't worry, the drink will make her forget," Chase told Amity, laughing at his own joke.
Amity's expression twisted into a frown, much like Clay's. Neither were impressed with his insensitive comment, unlike the rest of the group who burst into laughter.
"That's not as funny as you think it is," he announced to the laughing boys, disgust evident in his tone.
Amity tensed at the silence, watching Clay mumble and excuse and parting from the group. They looked around everyone, Rebecca sighing.
"Amity, he's really boring," she announced, scrunching her nose. "Let's just ditch him."
Amity frowned at Rebecca, eyebrows pushed together. "What? No, Becca, he's my friend," they argued, shaking her head. "Besides, that joke wasn't fucking funny. It was so fucking insensitive."
Rebecca sighed, grabbing Amity's hand and pulling her away from the group. They entered the kitchen, stopping beside the drinks.
"Amity, you gotta stop being such a buzzkill," Rebecca scolded, arms over her chest. "Chase isn't going to want to date me if he knows I'm friends with boring people."
"I'm not boring, Rebecca, that joke just wasn't fucking funny." Amity frowned at their friend, nails digging into the palms of her hands.
Rebecca rolled her eyes. "My god, you're so sensitive."
Amity straightened her posture, eyes narrowing. "Rebecca, four years ago Chase assaulted me," she said, keeping her voice low so no one around could hear her. "Please stay away from him."
Rebecca raised her eyebrows, nodding slowly. "Oh my god, you're pathetic," she laughed, placing her hand over her mouth. "You really need to get better at lying, Jesus!"
Amity's arms crossed over their stomach, shrinking back into herself and nodding. They sighed, looking away from Rebecca and instead focusing her eyes on Clay...
Who swung his fist at Chase and clutched his knuckles after striking his nose.
Wasting no time, Amity hurried over and took him by the sleeve of his hoodie and dragged him away. "Let's go."
₊˚. ❁┊͙ hey! here's a summary for if you didn't read the second half (i don't want anyone to be lost if it comes up again in the future):
rebecca comes to amity's and forces her out to a frat party. at the party, amity and dream are with a bunch of rebecca's friends. one of them, jackson, sees a girl pass and makes an inappropriate comment. amity tells him not to harass her and he's not being funny. chase, rebecca's boyfriend, tells her not to worry and makes an insensitive 'joke' about rape/assault. everyone laughs except from amity and dream.
dream leaves to try find the bathroom and amity is immediately told that he's boring and she should ditch him. amity isn't impressed and tries to argue.
rebecca pulls her somewhere private and tells amity that she's ruining things with her and chase. amity argues that she's not doing anything and rebecca gets annoyed. amity gets angry and tells rebecca about what happened a few years ago with chase (how he assaulted her). rebecca calls her a liar, leaving.
amity, wanting to go home, tries to find dream. she seems him back at the group arguing with chase. dream throws a punch at him and amity grabs dream and pulls him out of there.
(i think the summary is better written than the actual second half of the chapter omg)