30 comments = new chapter (not by one person although I seriously adore when people do that)
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No other words on the matter as they make their way, grabbing CJ's hat. Going back out into the hall, white walls, and white floors with streaks of black, and tape and cords. People just as busy as they were before as she follows warily by her friends side. Glancing around, arms tight around her and suddenly she wishes she had put the jacket back on, kept her safe. She feels bare, vulnerable. Her simple Beatles tee with the cover art of the Sargent Pepper album on the back, wearing ripped black skinny jeans and her sneakers. Hair down reaching mid way to her back, naturally wavy as she walks along, arms tight across her chest, listening in on CJ's words.
"We could grab some nachos too, if you want? Not quite tacos, but almost. We'll ask for bunches of cheese too, I know how much you love your cheese. The venders all know me so it'll be easy."
"Sounds yummy." She knows she's being shy, she knows she should be talking more but she also knows that CJ knows her. Gets this isn't her usual, sees the difference between comfortable Charlotte and nervous Charlotte. Treating her just the same though, although watching over her carefully.
They take an elevator down and then they are fully immersed in the Beatle Mania. People of all kinds adorning the merchandise.
It feels like every hair on her head goes on end looking into the thick bodies all squishing past each other in rush. Pushing shoving, right at the heart of the chaos where everyone wants to share some fries and a beer with their buds. "Not as busy as I thought it would be." CJ hums, searching before stepping from the small space, peering at her again with a finger on her chin. "You sure you're okay?"
Furiously nodding, maybe a bit too enthusiastic and not enough assurance.
"Let me know, okay? Seriously."
Walking through the thick group of bustling bodies, she can tell CJ is trying to scout the best path, trying to skirt along the edges instead of easily pushing through the contact of others.
She could feel eyes on her, could once again imagine Brandon behind her, hands trailing her hips and yanking her back, ripping her shirt.
Just, keep her gaze forward, keep it on CJ's back. Ignore the rest, listen to her words.
Leaning away from stumbling drunk people, leaping from ghost grabs of her imagination, sweat immediate on her brow, rosying her cheeks.
CJ is pushing people, giving them space as they move, trying to be the barrier between them and her, but maybe this was too much, maybe she should have stayed behind. It would've been better that way, for CJ, she wouldn't have to deal with this.
Stupid Charlotte continuously putting people in this position, time and time again. Just selfish. Needs to grow up because it's all fine. She's fine, okay? She's fine. Fine, Charlotte. Stop, just stop it. Idiot. Pathetic bitch.
Passing the beer stand, she does a double take, heart stuttering in her throat, the face is similar but not Brandon.
Focusing on her breathing, CJ points out, jumping on her toes trying to see past the sea of heads, then having her ah-ha moment. "Nachos! Perfect. Knew Id seen some somewhere. It's all good, Charlotte. Almost there." And she almost takes her hand but recoils away from her stupid stuttering friend. Maybe she's ashamed (she knows CJ just doesn't want to scare her, she knows).
Then they are not at the edge of the crowd, they have to enter, because CJ is sweet and knows she loves Tacos and has searched out the closest thing to her comfort food.
Arms tight across her body, literally trying to hold herself together, and then she slides in, like a pencil into a sharpener, cutting closely to her surroundings, burning as she could feel the panic rising.
Lost. Lost. Lost.
Hitting a tree trunk, bouncing off of it back onto dirt, shuttering in pain trying to suppress the sounds that beg to be elicited from her stained lips.
Snapping out of her memories she's tangled in the crowd and she can't see CJ anywhere. She's--where is she? Where's CJ gone? She was just, just right there? And people, people are everywhere and they're looking again, she can't, she's, no, no.
She pushes at the bodies, jumping from their touch as she gets glances, people literally breathing down her neck and she rams backwards behind her only to tumble into more people, and she pushes beyond them hurriedly, going back for the clear space she was at, away from the stares, back to being safe, but CJ's not there. Is she lost? Is she alone? Is someone going to take advantage of her? No, no. Please, no.
Deep breaths again, Charlotte. Just--biting at her tongue as she finds herself gripping onto a railing, eyes a white blur as she tries to calm herself. Not here. No, please. She's fine.
She's safe, there's nothing wrong, Molly's safe, they're in Seattle. Not Miami. She's fine and she has CJ and Robert--but she doesn't. She's alone, and freaking out and trying to hold it all back, and it's fine. Even though she's alone and vulnerable in a mass full of people, she's fine.
She could--she could phone CJ, or her dad--she could--fuck! No, god, no, she had left her phone in her pocket in that damn leather jacket. She couldn't do one thing right. Couldn't properly meet her friend, couldn't remember her phone, not freak out, couldn't get over the fact she really, really likes Robert and he can't even stand to look at her anymore. No longer there to comfort her and that's because her mom, her mom took away that one last thing, took away everything, but especially Robert because he understood, he got it, and now he was gone.
She needs, she's needs air, a safe place and there's a voice in her head telling her to stay in place, reminding herself that she's going to get further lost from CJ, but she'd be fine. She'd calm down and find her way back, she would. She thinks, maybe, she remembers and it'll be fine. She just needs somewhere, anywhere, where she can get back to normal, not cause a scene or attract anymore attention. But maybe CJ was pushing through the crowd back to her? What if it's just a matter of minutes till her friend finds her? She could--she could try again. She could try sliding through the people, search out this taco stand but she's fucking about to freak out, she's about to explode and she doesn't want to do it in front of all theses people, in front of CJ.
She'll go back to the box, that's what she'll do. That's--that's good. Reasonable. Phone CJ for there, make something up to make it sound like she isn't as pathetic and sad as she really is.
She's frankenstine, she is! She's a monster and her scientist is Brandon, and she's only out to do harm. God, she's a mess, and Brandon's words ringing in her ears like being caught out in a thunderstorm without shelter.
Don't be so sensitive.
Fuck, no. Stop, stop, stop.
Shuffling past a few people, back to the small clearing by the elevator, less people looking at her like she's a freed zoo animal. Pressing the button violently, peering around still half searching for CJ, half alertness. She'd get back to the box, she still had her tag on, they'd let her up and she'd wait, find her phone, be safe and all was fine.
Glancing down each hall, and a flash of heat flushing her body as she catches a glimpse of familiar brown hair.
It's, it's Robert. Her body stilling, almost going silent, taking in the scene.
He's stumbling, a beer bottle in hand as he stands chest to chest with two other guys, his demeanour small, trying to just get on with his day, or so it seems. She can't hear what is being said, too far but she can read their body language, the fire in the other two men's eyes both considerably younger than Robert, the pointing at him, cornering him.
She has no idea what's compelling her to move but the sinking feeling in her keeps pulling her along even though all she can see is his side profile, waving them off, swaying from side to side obviously trying to just get around them, simmer them down, and one of the men, the one with a round face, puffy with a bald head and stout stomach, suddenly pushes Robert, her pace increasing watching as he stumbles back, still managing to hold onto his drink.
She lists to the side as pain erupts from her head, clenching her eyes shut, shaking.
Brandon, limping from side to side from the pull of gravity, a beer bottle in hand, the sticker ripped off, unbranding it. His low set eyes as he almost glares at her as she crawls, inching along the forrest floor, nails bleeding as she scraps helplessly, really too drunk to move. To do anything, but she has to try, she did.
Sucking in a sharp intake of air, as she tries pushing past the pain, the new--the new images. Ignore it Charlotte, just keep going.
The other tall thin blond gangly looking guy starts spitting words in Roberts face and she can just barley hear the curses but can tell by the veins popping from the mans neck that he's yelling.
Echoing off of tall thick trees with nothing but the moons presence to tell her everything was going to be okay. To keep going, keep awake.
She curses, jumping from the flashing images rushing like lightening before her. Focus, just ignore it. Robert, get to Robert. Ignore it.
People are looking, a few coming up to them, trying calm anything before a storm breaks out. Robert has his head down, looking away from where the blonde greedy haired one is getting face to face with him, in his personal space, pushing him back with his words.
Brandon doesn't halter, he doesn't slow, he doesn't do anything but exactly what he wants. The hoarseness of her voice muffled and breathless.
She hurries her pace. She doesn't know what she's going to do, doesn't understand this need to go to him even though these men are terrifying her, and the pain in her head, the memories rushing back and she's chocking on air, making her flinch but the need to keep moving as she sees the two men advance on Robert, growing more and more angry. She's terrified and she wants to run the opposite because shes seeing things, hearing things and its fucking hurts and yet she goes anyways.
She's running, running for ever, endlessly her legs tumbling and yet she doesn't know why, she can't remember, but she was laughing ten minutes ago and now she's not.
Robert meets the greedy haired eyes before him, she can tell the way she sees his jaw tighten, the way he straightens.
Fight until the fight is over. Don't give up till it's done, (just give up, just do it, give up, it's helpless, you're helpless).
Then she was running fast but not fast enough as big bald guy swings first, just narrowly missing as Robert dodges it stealthily. Not even looking surprised as he steps back, then he's pushed against the wall from the gangly one, grabbing at his shirt but Robert swiftly open hand slaps the man, hard enough to get himself a bit of space, as it turns into a full on brawl.
She's jumping past people and it feels like she's moving with rocks in her shoes, slowing her down.
Just coming short as Robert is on the ground, on the bottom, still narrowly missing jabs at his face, then a knee is on his chest and stout guy lands a hit across his face, jerking him to the side before he grabs the assailants arm, twisting it and using his knees to kick the man off of him.
Others are joining in now and she's trying to get there, she's trying, and people are trying their best to pull the three apart, but the two are still after Robert as they travel the floor, wailing missing punches as Robert dodges from side to side, using their swinging weight to his advantage, a stern punch to gangly's ribs, a series of defensive blocks avoiding bald man, proceeding with another hit to the thin mans ribs, continuing as the assaults from the stout man come in heavy. The back and fourth game as best as they can, pushing Roberts block and landing a messy semi-defended hit to her professors shoulder.
She wishes someone, anyone would come to help, listen in, to be a person. Help a person. She wishes someone would run over and not care about the consequences, to love her enough to put themselves in between and help the hopeless even if they fear what might happen if they do so.
She doesn't skid to a stop, instead--and she has no idea how this happens or what convinces her to do it--but she's pulling at Roberts shirt, yanking him from their iron grip and pealing their hands off him as others dodge in to do the same. Quick to get him a few feet before a hairy hand is swiping at him again, gripping his shirt and she pulls at his waist before finding herself between the men and her teacher, too shocked and scared as she herself almost gets hit, palms flat and pushing on Roberts chest and he moves with her willingly, another man, older holding Roberts arm as more people finally finalize the separation.
"Fuck you Downey! You fucking asshole! You weak bastard!" She looks over her shoulder as the two men are still swiping at him as security is seen running in from behind them.
She tries to get his attention, trying to get him to focus but he's not noticing her, vision swinging around him. Trying to hold him steady, the cut to his lip dripping, no cuts on the rest of his face but he looks tired much like he did earlier, hair tousled from the fight.
The stranger, the older man, is hushing Robert who doesn't seem to need it, already trying to shake off their grips as the adrenaline still pumps in his blood. "I'm not gonna, gonna--Im just trying to leave." Stumbling as he speaks, apparently no longer the graceful dodging creature.
The older man, grey haired, lets him go, looking to Charlotte to do the same, ears burning red as she lets go of him and fighting the memories, the suppressions that are leaking like lava into her brain, the same ones that were apparently locked away. Far, far away in the depths of her mind and it's all rushing back and quieting and then the click of handcuffs brings her away from her reverie.
Twisting back as the security catches her attention, finally they have hands on the other two. "You coward! Thats how you're going to leave this? Just giving up like you fucking do with everything?! Fuck you Robert! Fucking fuck you!"
She turns back and barely catches as Robert slips into the staff washrooms.
She halters before following after him with slow steps, a hand firmly pressed to her mouth as she pushes on the door. Stepping in to find Robert leaning back against the wall, face tilted to the ground, immediately looking up as she peaks in, unrecognized until she pushes in further.
His red brimmed eyes watering as he slumps further against the wall seeing her.
Her own red brimmed eyes blurry in the mirror, no one but herself looking back at her, looking disgusted with her. No one there to help her up, to put her back together. To clean the cuts from the coldness thats seeped into her, its growing by the minute making it unbearable to look at herself, to see whats happened written on her translucent skin.
Brandon's eyes, cold and calculating. Manipulative and she flinches as the image rests in her mind, haunting her eyes every time she goes to blink. The pain, the fire and hurt burning across her cold skin, frozen, paling, so cold she grunts, seeing as she closes the door behind her pushing away all those memories, shutting the images from her mind. Her heart beating a million miles an hour as her vision clears and Robert is still looking at her, looking defeated.
She doesn't know what to do but she can't look away from him, his long lashes and he's not shunning her, he's seeing her, noticing, not shying away. The band shirt he wears showing off his toned arms in full sight, muscular yes, but more toned, meant to move swiftly instead of pushing. His hair flopped to the side as he must've combed his fingers through the lush locks. His throat hoarse as he speaks, thick with mixed emotion and alcohol. "Charlotte."
She softly smiles, remaining where she is, hand dropping from her mouth and she huffs out, not knowing what to say.
"I shouldn't, you know, I shouldn't. Charlotte, Miss Joseph."
"Mr.Downey." She echoes softly without judgement or harshness to her voice.
He frowns, looking off like he tastes something rotten in his mouth. "Shouldn't be here, Charlotte."
She shifts, heart sinking. "You want me to go? Ill go, if, if you want me to."
He snorts, still gazing off, pushing off the wall only to fall back, sliding drunkly, her hands shooting out, reaching for him but he controls himself, shaking it off. "I think I may have drank too much, I think I'm a tad bit drunk."
She decides to lean against the wall opposite him beside the sinks where apparently the bottle has survived the fight, sitting on the counter.
"I could be fired, you know, that's why I was leaving. Too many, um, students. Too many students." He thought for a moment, eyes drifting till he finds himself in the mirror before him. "I got in a fight, hey? Could get fired. Terminated. Black listed, maybe." Then his gaze finds her again, softening. "I'm a mess. You should...go. I'm, I'm fine. Get back to your concert, tell security I'm here to be kicked out."
"I wouldn't do that to you."
"Wouldn't you?" He asks, listing forward as he stumbles towards her, hands gripping on the sink. "Why not? This isn't right, I-I'm a--public intoxication. You're my student, report me to the admin, beat out who ever else does it first."
She shakes her head, wide eyes as she looks at his round eyes, distinctly hurt from something she didn't know. "Are you--hurt?"
"I shouldn't be doing this to you, Charlotte. It's not fair, it's not, it's not right. Wait, is this--is this a hallucination? Did I hit my head? Why're you here?"
"Im here. you're not...hallucinating, I don't think. I was, um," A sheet of guilt washing through her thinking about what poor CJ must be going through. "I'm here with a friend, saw you, wanted to help."
"Boyfriend?--" Shaking his head, closing his eyes like he was innerly berating himself, interjecting himself. "Don't answer that. I'm sorry, that was, that's rude and unprofessional."
The question making her red with heat. Not for the reason you would think but the question itself suggesting that he was interested in knowing. She's over thinking again, reading into it, right? It's...but no, it's not, teachers don't ask that. He's drunk though, it's the no filter thing she also suffers with when having drunk too much. "No, just a friend."
He finds her eyes again, looking intense for a fleeting moment before he calms, decidedly not pushing on the subject. "I'm sorry, I'm not in the right head space. I'm being..." He sighs, in thought as his features darken, sadness seeping in, the sadness she has seen in passing glimpses, unveiled by his raw state.
Opening her mouth, as if she's got the right words to comfort him, instead she finds herself shyly stepping towards him much like she did just a few weeks pryer.
Eyes catching with his, "Don't, Charlotte, don't."
She halts, still in his space.
"I shouldn't have hugged you, it was, I was taking advantage."
Her face screwing up in confusion, "No you weren't. You know you weren't and I know." Biting at her lip for a moment, before tentatively asking the question that has been eating at her thoughts for the past two weeks, wondering, "Did my, did Terry say something to you?"
He sharply looks away, a long silence before he responds, tone low, embarrassed. "She has a point, you know. We, I should treat you more as a student. Less... friendly."
Something like relief seeping in to her system, a glimmer of hope that maybe they could get back to being the... the what? The friends? Student and teacher? No, maybe just simply the interactions and comfort, the understanding they seem to share. Get back to that.
She looks him over, the tense position of his body and she's stuck. She doesn't know what to do, how to properly interpret him, even though she feels like she's figuring it out. The curve of his back as he leans a little heavier on the counter, finding the forgotten beer and quick to bring it to his lips, drowning it down in one go, placing it back only to slouch further into the side, wobbling back into the other wall where he tries to lean casually, the effects of the swig already taking over, something like an entire bottles contents now streaming into his already drunk system.
She doesn't judge, she understands it perfectly.
A moment of silence passing between them. "I don't know why I connect with you like I do, Im sorry. It s'not fair. " A growing slur to his words.
"You...you're friendly. A... I don't know. I feel like I have nothing in my life, but I can trust you. I know that."
"Trust me, don't. It'll, you'll, I'm not trust worthy, trust me--or don't. You know what I mean."
She didn't want to argue with him. Maybe she should go... find CJ. She feels a bit more under control, still a bit jittery, just barely having a grasp on staying anchored to earth, although going out of this safe spot does seem taunting, like it'd be too much. An idea popping in her head. "Do you have a phone?"
He gives her a conflicted expression. "Yea'."
"May I use it?"
He thinks for a moment before he's drunkenly pulling at his pockets which she can't help but watch as his hands pat down his sides, pulling the square from his back pocket. A searching stare at her before he offers it out to her.
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30 comments = new chapter (not by one person)
But if we don't reach 30 comments by Thursday ill put up the chapter Friday :)
Random Question: Whats one similarity between yourself and RDJ?
COMMENT. VOTE. WHAT SHOES ARE YOU WEARING/LAST WEARING.
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