Nikki
I don't think she'll call the cops. I mean I think she's all talk.
Skylar had walked up the stairs to get changed a good fifteen minutes ago. I mean all I can think about is that scene in Ferris Bueller's Day Off where Jennifer Grey is locked in her bedroom calling 911. 'There is an intruder--male, Caucasian, possibly armed, certainly weird--in my kitchen. M-my-my-my name is Bueller. Look, it's real nice that you hope my brother is feeling better, but I'm in danger, okay? I am very cute, very alone and very protective of my body. I don't want it violated or killed, all right?! I need help! Speak any English?! Dick head!' Now I can't picture Skylar saying she's very cute (though she really is [don't tell her I said that]). I can picture her yelling dick head on the phone with, well, everyone and anyone really.
Skylar's front room is pretty boring, not going to lie. Like there's a couch, an arm chair, a coffee table, and a stereo that plays an Aerosmith tape (that I flipped over so I wasn't sitting in complete silence). I look around and sigh. She's already pissed off at me, I might as well make it worse by wandering around her house.
The front room flows into the kitchen and the kitchen into another hallway. This hallway is lined with doors and it kinda reminds me of The Shinning. One door is open a bit and I walk towards it.
The door leads into a room that's lit up with pot lights. Those lights shine down on a stunning collect of guitars. A sky blue acoustic is the centrepiece to the collection and I recognize it. Tobi Roxford used it to play Skylar's Blue Sky. As I look around the room there's a brown leather jacket in a big wooden frame. There's countless pictures in frames on tables and shelves, all pictures of Skylar and her father. She was a daddy's girl, I see.
That's why she got so mad at the interview. It didn't even register in my head. Shit, I really did fuck up.
I sit down on the red leather couch and pick up one of the pictures that sit on the coffee table. Skylar (how looks about seven) and her father sit in front of a big picture window that looks out onto a beautiful property. They both hold acoustic guitars, Skylar is looking down at the cords she's playing while her father watches her with pride. I smile at the picture. Skylar genuinely looks happy and she's was always really cute.
Someone clears their throat and I look up. Skylar stands in the doorway with her dark hair falling around her shoulders and her blue eyes studying me. Her face is like stone.
"Let's just get this over with." She says quietly.
"Yeah, okay." I agree as I place the picture back on the coffee table.
Skylar stands in the doorway until I walk out and she closes the door behind me. I stand at the opposite side of the hall and she turns around to face me. Skylar crosses her arms.
"What was so wrong with my article?" She wonders and I laugh a little bit.
"You mean other than you completely ripped me apart?" I ask and she crosses her eyes.
"You said all those things, didn't you?" Skylar asks.
She has a point but I'm definitely not telling her that!
"Why are you such a bitch?" I ask and she smirks.
"Great comeback." She says and I scowl.
"I'm serious! Why do you get off on ruining people's careers?" I ask.
"Last time I checked four studio albums and millions of girls wanting to give you head, I'm sure my review won't hurt you too bad." Skylar says and walks towards the kitchen.
"Skylar!" I call after her.
She turns around to face me once I get to the kitchen.
"Writing is your power but you don't use it for good." I say and she rolls her eyes.
"Oh you figured it out!" Skylar claps her hands sarcastically.
"Take away your power, then what?" I ask. "You're just some stuck up rich girl that lives off her daddy's name!"
Something inside her changes. Her shoulders straighten and she grits her teeth. Skylar blue eyes fill up with tears but she blinks them back. When I meet her eyes again they're cold and unforgiving.
"No. You take away my power and I'm just the girl who lost her dad, who's mom abandoned her, who struggled with depression her entire life!" She hisses. "Don't you dare tell me that I'm just some rich girl who lives off her daddy's last name!"
Now you've done it, Nik.
"Skylar." I say quietly and she shakes her head.
"Just some rich broad, right?" Skylar asks before walking out of the kitchen.
"Skylar." I call as I walk to the doorway.
She walks up the stairs and I follow her.
I've gotta say I'm sorry. God, I can't win with this broad. I'm either insulting her dad or bringing up bad memories from her past.
Skylar slams her bedroom door and I walk up to it. I raise my fist to knock on the door but then I hear something that makes me stop. I hear her soft sobs and I drop my hand.
"Fuck me." I mumble.
I sit down with my back against the door. I'm not going anywhere until she talks to me again.
I never thought I'd make her cry, not this cut throat journalist. Not this girl that stood up to me in a way that no one else would. Why does it bother me so much that I hurt her?