"Now you lay in the ashes... Of the house you built..."--Charlotte OC
"It...looks a lot worse than it is." Cory started with.
Lie No. 1
Kris was already shaking her head.
"Did...somebody hit you? Because th...that's what it...it...looks like. Li...like some...somebody hi...hit you." Kris said.
"Yes. Somebody hit me." The words slipped out and Cory heard them, leaving her lips, and for a quick moment wanted to desperately pull them back but...they were better than the silence that would fall between them. Or, worse yet, the sound of Kris as she started to cry.
"Cory...why? Wha...what happened?" Cory heard the anguish in Kris's voice but there was frustration too. Frustration at not understanding and Cory realized that, on some level, she had only served to make Kris feel more like an outsider than ever, with her attraction to BDSM that Cory couldn't even explain to herself.
She didn't know what to say. She opened her mouth, not even sure of what was going to come out when Kris held up a hand.
"Is this...this...par...part of what...you tri...tried to explain to m..me? Wha...what you like?"
Part of what you like?
Yes,yes,it's everything I like on some dark and weird level I never talk about because I miss my daddy and its how I feel close to him and when I'm pushing people and pushing myself , it's a way to feel all that pain of what I know I never should of liked or loved and it doesn't matter how I learned to feel that way, I just know I do,I only know I do...
"No." Cory stared up at the ceiling of Kris's apartment.
Lie No.2
She couldn't look at the girl.
"And...yes. Kris, I don't know how to explain it. I went...and I met...someone. But...I never expected what happened. But...I'm okay. But I don't expect you to be okay with it."
Cory leaned forward and covered her face with her hands. Now that everything was said and done, her shame and a strange sense of grief came for her in a crushing wave, rolling over her, pulling her under and spitting out everything that should be said but wasn't. And never would be.
I'm sorry, it won't happen again.
I was raped.
I drank too much, and I was doing drugs and I didn't even know what they were, and I was stupid.
Please don't leave me.
All of it spit out and pulled out to sea and still, there was that strange sense of obligation to do it all over again, even if the outcome was the same.
"I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know what I'm doing." Cory said, her voice raw with tears. She could feel the gap between her life and Kris's, it was a palpable thing being tossed back and forth and if dropped, there would be no way of putting it back together again.
And then Kris's arms were around her and Cory, who regarded herself as a woman who didn't cry when around others, burst into tears.
"It's going to be okay. Let me help you." Kris whispered.
"No one can help me." Cory said, her voice muffled.
Except Michelle. 'Shelle could help. Go see her.
She had no idea why her mind kept returning to that. She'd grabbed on to it like the last life preserver off the Titanic, and ever since the thought had popped into her head it stayed right at the forefront, annoying and stuck, just like shit backing up a pipe.
And there was nothing stopping her from going. She had the money. She could afford to take the time off from her classes and make it up later. It would be a quick trip; she couldn't stay with 'Shelle for long. People around Devil's Eye still remembered her and not in a good way. Dismayed, she realized she was already working out the particulars of going in her mind.
"Cory, I...I...don't unde...understand...what..you do or le...let oth...other people do to you. But I love you. And if...if...you...le...let it...it can be...be...enough. Okay? Just...let me lo...love you."
"How? How can you say that?" Cory pulled away and looked at Kris.
Cory knew people and people tended to say things that were impossible to follow up on. They said them in the moment because the words were a temporary balm over whatever gaping wound had come to light. But once people saw how slow-healing—or non-healing—that wound was, they quickly moved out of the way and all those words were forgotten.
Kris looked back at her, her eyes soft.
"Be...because it can be en...enough if you let it." The girl replied.
Was that true?
And did Kris really believe that?
Cory studied the girl as she tried to get her tears under control. She didn't cry, not like this, not in front of people. And now, twice in one day. It made her feel out of control.
The first time she'd really cried was when her daddy took her to bed the first time and she was maybe seven—eight? She'd cried and cried, and he'd walked her to Lonnie's afterwards and bought her ice cream.
She had told herself then that she wouldn't ever cry again. And she had rarely broken that promise and just look at how this day had turned out.
"Kris...I don't...understand. Are you saying you want to stay with me?"
And that was her biggest fear, because if she compared the two: Wolf flaying every bit of skin off her and fucking her for hours on end and Kris saying she never wanted to see her again, if she had to choose, she'd pull out the business card and make another call. And Wolf would answer. And speak to her in that soft, calm voice.
Daddy's girl.
Cory shuddered.
Kris looked puzzled.
"Leav...leaving you was never on...on...the table. I...don't...understand. And I don't li...like seeing you hu...hurt like this. But I under...understand you...you...met...someone...and...and..."
Kris stopped. There was a hurt animal look in Kris's eyes that the girl was probably not even aware of.
"...wh...why...I mean...you...you...tri...tried to get aw...away and...and...couldn't...right?"
"I remember saying I didn't want to do...what it was all shaping up to be but...but nobody heard me. I don't even know if I said it out loud. I was drinking and I did...some coke. I thought it was just coke but PattyJo explained it to me, what all it was. A bunch of junk mixed together to...I can't remember everything. "Cory said then stopped.
She felt like she was trying to translate her language to someone who'd never even heard English spoken before. As she watched, Kris's face went from confusion to stoicism as the girl shut herself down. And it hurt Cory to watch that happen.
Should have listened to your parents kid, when it came to the horrible hillbilly girl. Because they were fucking right.
"Were you drinking too?" Kris asked.
Cory gave her a miserable nod. In hindsight, this was probably a part of it all she should have lied about too.
"Cor...Cory..." Kris blinked her eyes rapidly, stalling the tears as they tried to crawl down her cheeks. "...you...don't remember wh...wha...what happened and you hav...have...these..."
Kris gave up on words and reached her hand out and lightly touched the cord marks around Cory's neck. Cory caught the girl's hand with both of her own.
"Kris...it's...it's..."
She stopped.
"It's not what you think" or "It's not that bad" sounded fine to her but she knew Kris would never understand.
"It's wh...what, Cory? We...were you go...going to say th...that it's okay?? Because...it...it...doesn't look...okay from my end. Wha...what it looks like from where I'm sit...sitting is...someone tried to mur...murder y...you."
Cory was already shaking her head. Deep inside, she wondered if that was true. She quickly denied it. If that were true, she wouldn't be sitting with Kris now.
Maybe not this time. Maybe they were working up to it.
"No sweetheart...no one tried to murder me. I know...how it looks but if they had wanted me dead...I wouldn't be here now."
Way to go Cory! That will make her feel better!
"They? I...tho...thought you...you...said you met one...one...guy."
Cory physically cringed.
"Well...that's how it started out. I went...to meet him and...someone else...was there too. I didn't know that...until later." Cory said, her voice quiet.
Kris suddenly got up and started to pace. Her hands, nervous, brushed her hair back from her face repeatedly as she walked back and forth. She stopped and looked at Cory.
"Di...did you call the pol...police?"
"No." Cory's reply was swift.
"What hap...happened to you...the drugs don...don't matter...Cory, you were...raped...do you...understand that?"
"I'm not ready to call it that," Cory said, helplessly. "Kris, I went there. I took the drugs willingly. Some of the things that...happened...that I remember...I've done before. At parties. While there were some...things...I didn't want to do...it's not like it was all...brand-new to me. The police are not going to see it the way you do. They'll see it the way I do."
Kris stopped pacing and quietly nodded, her stoic expression revealing nothing. She turned towards Cory, her eyes dark and face unreadable.
"But...the ma...marks...on your neck. Tha...that's not some...some...something some...someone...wants to do. They tried to k...kill...you, Cory."
"No," Cory said, her voice just as quiet. Inside, she felt a burst of wild laughter trying to claw its way up her throat.
She was now defending Wolf and Eli for what had happened.
"It...it's...a form of play, I don't usually engage in. It's breath play. Someone...controls...how much air you're allowed to have. When you get close to passing out, they release the pressure and you're supposed to feel a rush. I don't know. I mean, I don't know if you really do or not. Feel a rush. I don't remember getting the marks on my neck, but...it's not something I do."
Cory fell silent as she took in the incredulous look on Kris's face.
"Do...do...you hear yourself??" Kris asked.
Unfortunately, Cory did. She had never developed that odd acceptance that she'd seen in other people. BDSM was, quite literally, their world. It was where they lived. And if one of those people had heard Kris's question, they would be offended. And Cory almost wished she were one of those people, because feeling outraged would feel much better than feeling sick and disgusted with herself.
"I...know, Kris. I know how it sounds. I don't have much to say for myself. I...don't. Other than...I'm sorry."
Kris gave her an absent nod and began to pace again. Cory watched her as she walked back and forth, her brow furrowed, as she thought it all over. And, god help her, in spite of everything, Cory still found her eyes wandering down to the girl's slim, tanned legs as she walked back and forth. Kris stopped moving.
"Who is PattyJo?" She asked. Cory closed her eyes.
She's my over six feet tall gay cross-dressing drug dealer who thinks purple and pink go well together and tries to incorporate it into everything she wears.
"PattyJo is...a drug dealer," Cory replied. "I called her because I wanted to know about what I'd taken. See if she could identify it for me."
Kris nodded and resumed pacing. Cory watched her walk back and forth a few more times then said, "Kris...please come sit by me."
Kris silently walked over and sat down. She reached out and took one of Cory's hands with her own.
"I didn't know you took drugs."
"I don't...take drugs." Cory squirmed. "I...occasionally...get some coke or pills from PJ. Occasionally."
Kris nodded bleakly. She looked at Cory, her eyes wet.
"Are you an addict?" She almost whispered the words.
"What?? No honey, no I'm not a drug addict. I know you don't understand much about drugs and addiction but I..."
"I do understand addiction." Kris interrupted in a quiet voice. Cory sensed the conversation might be going in a different direction and she wasn't sure she liked where it was headed.
"How so?" She asked.
"Because..." Kris stopped, her face pale and troubled. "You know...I never did tell anyone why I ran out of practice that day and they found me at Gracepoint."
The girl spoke in a quiet tone, resolute with a touch of hopelessness that Cory picked up on and wished she hadn't. She decided she liked Kris's stuttering much better.
"Nobody asked me, really. It was decided I was under too much pressure. But that wasn't why. It's because I can't stop playing. It probably seems easy to you. Set it down and walk away. But it's not," Kris looped a strand of blond hair around one ear and looked at Cory, her eyes sad.
"I have to play just like I have to breathe but...the music isn't mine anymore. It belongs to everyone else. Vas, my parents, my patrons...everybody. And I don't know how to get it back. But I still play. And one day...I'll wake up and decide today's the day, and...I... just won't be here anymore. And I'm fine with that. It's the only way I'll ever get away from my addiction. I can't stop playing but...none of the music is mine. Does that make sense? So...yes, I do understand addiction."
Cory was quiet. She knew she should be horrified. She could spout all the drivel of "how can you be so selfish to all the people who love you??" bullshit. She could look up the Suicide hotline on her phone and make a call. She could even tell Kris she was wrong, she was probably depressed, and offer her some help in finding a good head doctor that would make everything better. She was actually eager to do all of those things; it would take the attention away from her.
But she couldn't. Instead, she was filled with a sense of despair. She had nothing within herself to try and convince Kris that life would get better, and everything would, eventually, be peachy-keen. Because somewhere deep within herself, she had the same plan.
"Promise me...that when that day comes...you'll call me." Cory said. Kris was already shaking her head. Cory held up a hand.
"No, not to try and talk you out of it. To say good-bye. I understand, Kris. Honestly, I do."
"You mean that?" Kris asked and Cory hated the hopeful tone she picked up in the girl's voice. Just because she understood didn't mean she wasn't one of those selfish ones who wanted Kris to stay on the earth solely for Cory.
"I do mean that, sweetheart. Of course, I want you to stay with me forever but...I get it. And I'm not an addict. Switcher and I sometimes get junk from PJ. I usually get pain pills if I've played too hard at a party, or stuff to stay awake and help me study."
Cory heard herself laying it all bare and briefly wondered if what Kris had told her had made the difference in what she said and what she kept secret. She honestly didn't know.
"You know...PJ asked me if I was still seeing you. She stopped by the lot when I was renting that Jeep when we went out to the desert. I told her I was renting it for a date. Anyway, I told her I was still seeing you and she asked your name. She saw you play with the...I think she said something like a symphony...a few months back. A date took her to see you."
"The Synfonietta," Kris said, nodding. "Is she your...friend too?"
Cory thought back to PJ casually offering to make Wolf and Eli disappear.
"Yeah, I guess she is. I...spent some time with her today. Before I came to see you. I called her to ask her about laced junk and she wanted to talk to me, in person."
Cory paused as she took in the look of sudden hurt on Kris's face.
"Honey...what is it?" She asked, her voice soft.
"Are you...seeing her?" Kris asked and Cory could hear tears in her voice. In a flash, she saw where Kris's mind had gone.
"Oh my god...no. No,no,no," Cory said, struggling not to laugh. "PattyJo is a gay, male cross-dresser. He's over six feet tall and he's all muscle, much to his disgust. He wishes he could figure out how to make his arms look less muscular, because they play hell with all his summer strapless dresses."
"Oh." Kris said, looking a little confused. "What did he want to talk to you about?"
"She." Always she. The only time PattyJo is all-man is in a fight. I've seen her beat some righteous ass. But she hates to be referred to as "he." Cory paused. "I guess...I'd have to say PattyJo is a very good friend. She offered..." Cory stopped.
She'd promised never to mention her conversation with PJ but ever since PattyJo had asked her what she wanted to do, it had been buzzing about inside her brain and Cory hoped it was simply because she was in pain. Once that stopped...what PJ had offered would be less enticing. But she needed it out of her head.
"You have to promise you will never tell anyone what I'm telling you, okay?" Cory said. Kris looked at her and an expression resembling fear crossed her face.
"O...kay. Cory, wh...what is it?"
"PattyJo told me a little bit of her background and growing up. She's from Chicago. Anyway...no need for details...she's connected with the mob down there. She offered to make the guy I met and his friend...disappear. If you know what I mean."
"Jesus," Kris breathed. She eyed Cory. "Are you...thinking about it?"
Cory was stunned.
Did it show on her face? That she was contemplating having two people murdered? Jesus Christ...
"No." Cory hastily replied. "When she first said it...I actually thought about it for a second but no. God no. It was just a...crazy...conversation. I've known PattyJo a while and I've gone out dancing with her a few times. But that...that's an offer you make to a ...family member or something, you know?"
They both fell silent, thinking their own thoughts. Cory stayed quiet for as long as she could.
"Kris...are we good?" She finally asked, struggling to keep a pleading tone out of her voice.
"I...don...don't like kn...knowing that...people are hur...hurting you.I don't und...understand it but...I guess I don't ha...have to und...understand it to love you. I also know you...you...won't stop do...doing things tha...that hurt you. Whi...which doesn't leav...leave me...in a good pla...place." Kris said in a sad voice.
Cory looked at the girl, her eyes brimming with tears. Of all the people she'd met in Kris's life; that douchebag Vas, her crazy Joan Crawford mother, all of her mother's cronies and a million more she wasn't aware of...in the end, she was the one who had wound up hurting Kris the most.
"I don't want you to feel that way, I never wanted to do...this...to you." Cory said. She hoped Kris wouldn't ask for a definition of "this." She knew she wouldn't be seeing Kris anymore; she could feel it deep in her bones and her heart hurt—actually hurt---at the thought.
"So...this is it then?" Cory asked. All Kris needed to do was nod. She'd made it easy for her.
"No," Kris looked at her, her face wet with tears. "No. No...not for...me any...anyway. N...not...unless you..you...want to...go. D...do you kn...know why?"
"I want you with me forever, Kris. But I don't...want to hurt you...with whatever it is that...well...makes me do things like this." Cory paused. "No, I don't know why you don't want to leave, to be honest. Because anyone else would, Kris. Anyone else would."
Kris shook her head and reached her arms out for Cory, the gesture so child-like and trusting Cory almost started to cry herself. She pulled the girl to her feeling the shape and warmth of her against her own battered body.
"Be...because...I'm..add...addicted to you...you and music...it...it's all I ha...have...I can't not be wi...with you, Cory." Kris whispered and Cory hugged her tightly, refusing to acknowledge the despair she heard in her voice.