The library was lonely, resulting in a wandering Nessa wondering why exactly he was there. Ian didn't show up, and he wasn't even sure if he had actually wanted him to in the first place. What would have happened? Maybe he would have come clean to him about the obsession he had developed with trying to make people fall in love with him.
But Nessa wasn't sure if he could even do that without feeling inevitably worse about himself. Did Ian fall for him? It seemed that he had. Nessa touched a finger to his cheek, remembering the warmth of Ian's lips when they were there. He didn't love Ian the same way, but he did care about him.
The school day had been long and frustrating. Emi and Keely were still struggling to talk, though Nessa didn't know what all the details behind their divide was. Ilya seemed a lot quieter than usual, not really saying much as he constantly looked at the entrance of every room they were in. He was hoping that Kiwi was going to walk in at some point.
Venice seemed to be comforting Ilya in a way that only he could — by sitting close to his side and indulging more than usual in his flirtatious actions. Ian didn't even look their way, probably embarrassed by what happened between him and Nessa. Not to mention the bruise on his cheek from Kiwi, which Venice had informed Nessa on.
Kiwi was nowhere to be seen. Venice said that it was most likely due to the horror he felt for how he treated his friends, explaining that Kiwi had always been the sort of person to fret over how he impacted others. Nessa hoped that he was alright, and that he would return to school soon.
Standing in that library without Ian made him feel stupid. It was a place for quiet people to find comfort in literature, and yet he somehow felt lonely when he had nobody to sneak up on and compliment. The latter was a good thing to be without, because Nessa knew that he was too handsome to do that to someone. But regardless of finding himself slipping back into the actions of Charm, he still genuinely wanted to be Ian's friend. It hurt to know that he had ruined that.
Somehow Nessa found himself drifting to the historical literature section, where he eventually stood beside a book that he would never have picked up on his own. Nessa was far more into modern, or classical fantasy books such as Alice in Wonderland. Picking up Dante's Inferno seemed like something he would never do. Yet that was precisely what happened.
Nessa stared at the cover for a few moment, wishing that he was no longer who he used to be. Charm had been someone egged on by his peers and friends. They saw the unmatched perfection in Nessa's complexion, and furthermore the way that people reacted to it. Compliments and shock, staring and whispers. It wasn't hard to want to test the true impact of a face like his.
Why had he done it? Maybe he was narcissistic. Maybe Nessa was sick of being seen but never heard, so he decided to give the people a taste of their own medicine. Maybe some of them actually did deserve it. After all, they only lowered their personality standards because of how handsome he was. When he was younger, he thought that it made them vain. But perhaps it was his own faults that led him down a dark path.
He never loved any of them. They were passing faces and names, people that he only gave the time of day because of a bet made between him and his friends. He always won them. But it hadn't been worth anything in the end, because he felt nothing but self-loathing and hatred towards the face that he had been born with. It gave him a stalker that he was too terrified to tell anyone about, and too many ex-lovers for someone so young.
Nessa's hands tightened around the book, before he turned on his heel and went over to the librarian. Once it was checked out, he left the library, feeling unsure of when he would return next. Venice was hanging out in front of the school, waiting for Nessa to finish with what he needed to do. He was going to walk with Venice to his house, and they were going to hang out for a few hours. Nessa's mom was thrilled to hear that he had friends, and all she could say was how much she wanted to be able to meet them soon.
He went to his locker, the entire hallway devoid of any other person. It felt almost relaxing. There was no one to stare at him, no one scrutinizing his face and how he came to hold such high beauty standards. He messed up his combination the first time, having to open up his phone to try to refresh his memory and make sure that he even had the right locker or combination.
As his head was tilted down, and his gaze was fixated on his screen, he felt it. Eyes were on him, and soon, hands followed.
His phone crashed to the ground as he jumped out of his skin, his throat instantly closing up in a panic. It always did when he was scared. Arms encircled his waist pulling his back tight against the person's chest. Nessa knew the smell of cheap cologne far before he was able to see who was wearing it.
Every cell within his body was screaming to get away. He tried to push the arms off of him, or to figure out a way to possibly get someone's attention. But no one was there. Nessa and Kris were entirely alone, and in no time he felt himself being pulled out of the hallway and into an empty classroom.
There were tears on Nessa's cheeks, remembering what happened the last time that someone had held him so close. It had felt like Kris touched every last part of him — all of his skin and all of his mind. He made Nessa fall in love with him just to rip out the magnificent feathers of a glorious bird one by one. Until nothing was left but a paranoid and self-loathing heap on the floor.
Nessa struggled against him, the door to the classroom being closed and Nessa was released. Immediately, he backed away from Kris, sure that his knees were going to give out at any given moment from how hard he was shaking.
There Kris stood, as tall as ever. His blonde hair was still dutifully bleached, the blue in his eyes a result of some contacts. He didn't look quite the same, and yet he didn't seem to be even a little bit different. It was unnerving to be hit with the full force of what Nessa had done to himself. All he had to do was tell his parents about Kris, and yet he couldn't muster a single word.
Maybe he was going to die this time. Nessa almost wished that he would. He didn't want to have to recover a second time. He didn't want to move somewhere even farther away from where he started, only to be found infinitely many times. Kris should have been caught, and yet he managed to escape. It was all going to happen again. Maybe this time it would be even worse.
Nessa's thighs slammed into a desk hard, and he had to grab the surface as to keep his shaking form from completely collapsing to the ground. Kris was blocking the door. He was watching him like a predator watched prey. He was enamored.
"Do you remember when you would come to my place?" Kris finally spoke, completely calm and thoroughly obsessed with every last detail that made up Nessa. "You loved to be held. You loved it when we would make forts in my living room."
He opened his mouth to beg him to let him go. No sound came out, nothing more than the quiet whimper of a weak animal locked in a cage. Kris took a step forward. Nessa turned in every direction, searching for something to use to defend himself. Through the layers of tears he found nothing.
"Don't you miss it, Charmer? The things we did together? The kisses we exchanged when no one was looking?" The person that Nessa had fallen for didn't even seem to exist anymore. He wasn't cute and shy, nor caring and protective. He was a stalker and a rapist. He took things when he wanted them. It didn't matter how Nessa felt.
"P-please." It was weak on his tongue, barely more than a panicked breath.
"We both know that you won't do anything." Kris then closed the distance between them, grabbing Nessa's thighs and settling him atop the desk that he had run into. "You're quieter than a mouse. You want me."
Nessa shook his head, shoving his hands against Kris' chest to try to push him away. It was futile, because Kris was already holding Nessa close. His stubble scraped Nessa's cheek and neck as Kris leaned down and kissed him beneath his ear.
"Don't." Nessa tried again, though his voice was no louder than it had been the first time. He wasn't there, he was in California. He was in Kris' classroom, presssd up against a wall as Kris stripped him of his sanity. "No, I-I don't want this."
"You've found your voice." Kris was smirking. He was enjoying the way that Nessa shook and pleaded for it to end. "Too bad it won't do any good." He whispered in Nessa's ear, a feeling that made Nessa only sob harder. "You're still too quiet."
He heard the sound of one of his overall clasps giving way before he felt it. The second one followed soon after. Kris' arms were keeping Nessa from getting away, holding him so tight that it almost hurt. He was squirming and flailing every limb that he could, trying with all of his might to find a weak point.
Nessa recalled what his best friend Danny had said after he found him and Kris. Charm, I'm so fucking sorry. He never said anything after that. And soon, Nessa was shutting himself away as to never see him again. What the fuck did you do, Charm? That was the general question swimming among his friends. They all placed the blame on him. Danny had been too scared to remind them that they had all given him the dare in the first place.
But Danny was back in California, and Nessa was all alone. He was drowning. He was dying. Kris was untucking Nessa's shirt, ready to destroy him a million times more. Nessa wanted it to end.
He could see himself in the classroom, the tears flooding his flushed cheeks. The way that his so-called perfect face was twisted in agony. The distant look in his Caribbean eyes as he fought to decipher what was happening in real time, and what was the result of a memory. There wasn't anything beautiful about it. All of those people who saw nothing more than his outward appearance had never understood reality. It was going to be the very thing that killed him.
"Nessa?" There was a knock on the door.
He knew that voice, but where had he heard it? Nessa tried to keep Kris' hand from snaking lower, wondering if he even heard anything at all.
Then it came again. "Nessa? Are you in here?"
Blinking a few times, Nessa tried to pay attention to every detail of that voice. He heard the monotone edge to it, the lack of emotions. The slightest hint of worry that he could only detect from having listened to it so frequently and so intensely.
Kris looked down at Nessa, as though challenging him to open his mouth. He was certain that Nessa wouldn't. Nessa was too. He wanted everything to come to an end. The paranoia, the hand lifting his shirt. The repeating memories.
"Fuck, Nessa please say something." The voice must have been scared that something happened to him.
What made the owner of that voice experience emotions? He was so blank, a slate without anything on the surface. In the midst of struggling and sobbing, Nessa recalled something warm. The sun beating down on him as he sat in a field of grass. Dandelions were staining his fingertips yellow as he attempted to weave them into childish crowns.
Then there was Venice, someone that Nessa had begun to love in a way that he had never loved anyone before. He taught him how to weave the crowns correctly, and even wore one in place of his usual bucket hat. He had done that for Nessa and no one else. Instead of seeing Nessa's face, he saw his tattoo first. He saw the truth.
Maybe that was what caused for Nessa's throat to open up, or possibly it was the realization of what was truly happening. Nessa tilted his head upwards and yelled, "Help me!" As loud as he could.
Kris was stunned for a moment, clearly not expecting for Nessa to actually use his voice. Then he clasped his hand over Nessa's mouth, who was thrashing against him far stronger than he had been before.
Nessa wasn't Charmer anymore. He was a human being who had made far too many mistakes. But he was given the gift of survival and friendship. Maybe all of his friends weren't there, but Venice was. He had confided his darkest secrets in Nessa. Nessa promised to protect him. What good would he do if he were to die in Kris' arms?
There was a slam against the door. Then another, and another. Had Kris locked the door? Nessa didn't even notice it, too terrified to be processing all that was happening around him. He wanted to yell again, but Kris' grip was unrelenting.
Then the door was thrown open, a distraught Venice breathing heavily as he took in the sight before him. Nessa made eye contact with him over Kris' shoulder, hoping to convey all of the pain and horror he felt. It seemed that Venice didn't need the invitation, he was already seething.
Despite not being able to express his anger, Venice seemed to make it pretty clear. He went straight up to Kris and wrapped his arms around his neck, tugging him backwards with all of his strength. It didn't seem to matter how small Venice was in comparison. He was fierce beyond anyone that Nessa had ever met, far stronger than he let on.
Nessa took the opportunity to bite down on the hand that Kris had wrapped around his mouth, causing Kris to let out a gasp and remove his hand. Then Nessa did his best to further push him away.
Soon he was no longer pinning Nessa to the table like a toy. He was being pulled back by Venice, who could barely touch the ground as he used all of his weight to press on Kris' throat due to their difference in height. Kris staggered back, clawing at Venice's arms as he slammed his back into a wall. Nessa cried out, terrified that Venice was going to be hurt from the impact.
However, all Venice did was release Kris' neck, swiftly landing on his feet before dodging his flailing arms and moving to stand in front of him.
They stared at one another for a moment. Kris was brimming with volcanic rage, the veins in his forehead threatening to burst. Venice was emotionless, baby blue eyes completely empty of anything at all. Nessa was glad to be the one being protected rather than the victim in that moment, because he had never realized how much more horrifying an expressionless face was than an angry one.
Kris seemed to pick up on it as well, but perhaps he was too caught up in survival to process the severity. He lunged forward, and Venice dodged. It appeared that he had significant amounts of practice from all of the street fights that he had gotten into.
Venice shoved his weight into Kris' side, causing him to lose his footing and fall to the ground with a loud thud. Not a second was wasted before Venice was on top of him. Kris was grabbing at Venice's at-least-four-sizes-too-large shirt, then his neck and arms. He was trying everything to get him off of him.
But Venice didn't budge. He landed punch after punch, biting Kris' hands and arms when they got close enough to his mouth. There was blood. Was it coming from Venice's fists, or Kris' face? Nessa wasn't sure. He watched with wide eyes. He felt bloodlust of his own, wishing to see Kris bleed until there was no more blood left.
It wasn't until Venice reached into his pocket and pulled out a switchblade that Nessa finally snapped out of it. He startled back into reality, jumping to attention. Regardless of the things that Kris had done to him, Nessa couldn't let this happen.
"Venice, put it down!" Kris wasn't even moving anymore. His face was soaked in blood, his limbs limp. When had that happened? How long had Venice been hitting him? Nessa was too lost to know.
There was a sudden quiet in the room. Venice held the blade in his palm, hovering it over Kris' eye. Nessa was still shaking too badly to walk. He fell to his knees hard, wincing at the thud. But he didn't stop, doing his best to crawl closer to Venice.
"You can't kill him." He said, stopping once he was able to see Venice's face. His eyes were trained on the bloody pulp that was once Kris' complexion, his knuckles white from how hard he was gripping the blade. "Please, don't."
"Why?" The word drawled on his tongue, as though nothing was to accompany it. No thoughts, no emotions. Nothing.
"You'll get charged with manslaughter. You'll have another body on your hands. I promised to protect you, well this is how I'm doing it. Don't kill him, Venice. P-Please." Nessa was exhausted. He wanted to sleep his days away until he stumbled upon a good dream to hide within. But the only good dream that he could think of was the day that he had spent with Venice in a field of weeds and flowers.
"He hurt you."
"And now he's going to hurt you too." Nessa reached forward, his palm mere centimeters away from wrapping around Venice's hands with the knife clasped inside. He didn't want to touch him too soon and startle him, so he waited like that for a moment. "I'd rather see him rot in prison for the rest of his life. Maybe they'll do to him what he did to me. Hopefully worse."
Finally, Venice lifted his gaze to look at Nessa. There was something in his face that hadn't been there before. Frustration and hatred. He was upset to find that he had come too late. But that wasn't true at all, he came just in time to keep things from getting too far. Nessa's overalls were still undone, his shirt untucked and laying awkwardly. He didn't care, because nothing more had happened.
"I need you." Nessa whispered, placing his hand over Venice's and slowly lowering them down until he was able to peel back his fingers. Then he removed the blade. "So please don't go."
He wasn't sure that he could cry any harder than he already was. His face was soaked in tears and sweat, blood now on his hands from grasping Venice's. Even though he knew that the blade was important to Venice, he also knew that they couldn't be found with blades on them. He threw it to the side, watching it clatter off of walls and desks until it inevitably fell into a wide-grate vent.
"I want him dead." Venice admitted, clearly struggling with what he wanted and what Nessa needed.
"I want him to suffer." Nessa replied.
Then finally, there was a shriek from the doorway, a teacher heading down the hallway getting sidetracked enough to peek her head in. Nessa looked at Venice, who cast one last glance at Kris, before he got off of him and helped Nessa to his feet.
At first the teacher was horrified and screaming. Then Nessa began to explain what Kris had done to him, from start to finish. He sobbed and Venice had to hold him as he trembled from the memories and weight of it all. But she eventually listened, and soon the police were called.
Nessa leaned his heavy head against Venice's shoulder, knowing that everything was about to become more complicated again. Then he wondered if anything had ever been simple. Perhaps not, but he did wish for a future where he could feel peaceful for more than just one day. If he was lucky, maybe he would find what he was looking for.