I entered through my front door, fumbling with the keyhole, with Vic following right behind me. Even though I assured him that I would be okay, he still demanded to take me home. I had no idea what I would do about the things which I had left at school, but Vic promised to bring them to me tomorrow or later today.
"Really, it's fine, you can just go home," I reminded Vic but he did not budge. He made the decision to apparently take care of me for a while.
Vic made his way further into the small apartment, presumably taking the lead, and walking into my room. He must have assumed that it was mine, seeing as the bathroom door was different and the only other door lead to my mom's room and he had seen her go in there previously. Anyway, I hurried after him into my room just to see him rummaging through my closet, making a rucket and apparently not knowing the meaning of privacy. I knew that he was quite blunt, but this was going over the line.
"Jeez, all of your clothes are so big," he commented, fishing out a large shirt and holding it up to his body to compare the size. He was right.
"I know, it's 'cause they're not mine," I mused and shrugged, deciding to just let him be and do his thing. At least it would bring his mind some peace, although I genuinely felt fine now.
Vic turned his head around and eyed me suspiciously, "You didn't steal them, did you?"
"What?" I asked, appalled, "Of course not! They're my, uh...my brother's."
"I didn't know you had a brother," Vic said, turning back around just to shut my wardrobe. Not many people knew I had a brother and honestly sometimes I was not sure whether I had a brother either.
An uneasy feeling was eating me up however, as soon as I registered it, I felt guilty and ungrateful. It was just...embarrassing to have someone like Vic walking around this little run-down apartment that lacked most of the things his house had. It was awful of me to think this, but I almost felt ashamed of how I lived. Vic had a huge mansion and got whatever he wanted; I had a dodgy apartment, where the bedrooms did not have any furniture other than the essentials, and there was no heating throughout half of winter because we just could not afford it.
Vic chucked the clothes he had picked out in my direction and I easily caught them. "Change into this. Those skinny jeans look suffocating, so some sweatpants will be more comfortable."
It was quite humorous how much effort Vic was putting into this. He was actually consistently checking up on my wellbeing, as if it was a goal he was determined to achieve. It was very endearing.
I raised my eyebrows, waiting for him.
"What?" He asked, confused.
"Are you going to turn around or not?" I said and Vic's face quickly shone with realisation. He just nodded and walked over to the door. He did not open it though, just stood facing it. I took that as my cue.
This was so weird. I had never changed in the same room as someone else, except for family members and at school. Here though, I was letting Vic stay and be here. This was actual consent rather than necessity or school rules. Even if he could not see me, I was putting so much trust in him right now.
I trusted that he would not turn around at any sudden moment to watch me. I trusted that he would not discreetly take any pictures and show them to the school (I've had it happen before). I trusted that he would not make fun of me - for my body or how I lived. A week ago if someone told me that I would be willingly putting my trust into Vic Fuentes, I would laugh in their face. Now, things had changed.
I quickly stepped out of my clothes, but hesitated before putting the large shirt on. I contemplated my decision for a moment and realised that maybe this was for the better. So I quickly reached for my desk and found the pair of scissors I always had lying around. Careful not to hurt myself, I cut down my sides in order to get rid of the tape which was restricting my chest. As soon as I did so, I felt relief wash over me and took a deep breath which I unknowingly had been anticipating for the whole day. I could not wait to get rid of these darned breasts, they just made everything so much more complicated.
The tape hit the floor and I speedily put my shirt on, glancing over my shoulder to see Vic still facing the door. Good.
"You can turn around now," I told him and he did just that, spinning in his heel and looking me up and down. It was not in a flirty or suggestive manner, but more protective. He seemed satisfied with the result, viewing how much looser and free the clothes he picked out were.
Vic's gaze lingered confusedly on the tape which lay on the floor. I should have just thrown it away as soon as I got the chance! I turned away; yet another thing to be ashamed of.
"That's really bad for you," Vic commented, gesturing to the tape. I just shrugged in response, knowing that what he said was true. There was no other option though. "Why don't you just wear a binder?"
"Don't have one; can't afford it," I said simply. I never had these kinds of conversations so I had no idea how to act. I was just giving short, maybe snappy, answers because dealing with people was also never a strong point of mine. I tended to be ignored most of the time so being the centre of someone's attention was strange to me.
What I said did hit hard though. Why don't you have this? Why don't you do that? The answer was always the same: 'I can't afford it'. And I know that the way to success is to work for it, but some people get an easy head start whereas others have to work from the ground up.
Hesitantly, Vic stepped forward and reached his hand towards me. I was about to smack it away (I was fine with him being here and talking, but too much physical contact was over the line - I let him hold my hand, in a friendly way of course, but nothing more), when he reached up to my neck and fixed the collar of my shirt, which bad folded over. His fingers smoothly glided across, touching the skin underneath.
I was instantly uncomfortable. Not only from the touching, but also how close his hand was to my chest. I knew that this was fully innocent, but just feeling someone so close, especially near such a vulnerable part of my body, was foreign. Obviously, I had gone a lot further, but that was under different circumstances.
Not being able to hold myself back, I stepped away, placing my hand to the same area of my neck that his hand had touched. I rubbed the skin, almost soothing it from the warm feeling his fingers left. Looking up, I gave an apologetic expression for behaving so strangely, but Vic just nodded nonchalantly.
"You're so much different when you're drunk," he murmured under his breath and I don't think I was supposed to hear it. But I did. And I could not argue.
But why would he bring that night up? Sure, he said it accidentally and without the intention of me hearing but...did he think about it a lot? As much as I did? Did he regret it like I did?
No, that's wrong. I did not regret it, at least not some of it. It was mainly a feeling of confusion rather than regret. Life would be easier if it had not happened but the fact that it did occur was not the end of the world.
Why was I even thinking about this?
Vic was now looking around my plain room, maybe searching for something interesting, until he found it. Lying on my dresser was an ancient vinyl player with a stack of records sitting next to it. Vic approached the items and began looking through the stack of albums while I watched him to make sure he did not do anything stupid.
"You have a lot of Green Day records," he stated, picking up Dookie and assessing the cover art, then doing the same with Shenanigans.
"I know: they're my favourite band," I replied with simplicity.
"Really?" He asked in shock.
"Yep," I nodded. "Why is that so surprising?"
"You don't seem like someone who would be into punk. I thought Yellowcard was a one-off thing and normally you'd listen to stuff like The 1975. I guess I was wrong."
"Yeah, I prefer heavier stuff. But Green Day is just so...magical. Like the music is amazing and they can always make me feel so happy. Even if I'm not listening to them and I'm just humming a song in my head or thinking about their lyrics, it instantly puts me in a good mood."
I had not realised how in depth I went into talking about music. It was just a subject I was very passionate about and, now that someone was finally here to listen, I guess it was good to share my feelings about my favourite band.
Vic had been listening with a small smile on his face that gradually grew. The look he gave me seemed affectionate, yet contemplative. It felt like the cogs in his head were turning and thinking up a plan.
There was a pause between us, so he started talking again. "You just rest or do whatever, I'll get you something warm to drink," Vic announced.
"You don't need to," I assured again. "I'm completely fine. I was feeling bad back then, but it has passed now."
"No, you should not take any chances with your health," he said sternly, before leaving the room and slamming the door behind him. I just sighed in defeat. Why did he have to be so stubborn?
I took my time putting my used clothes away, wondering how long it would take Vic to figure out how a normal kettle works. The thought made me smile teasingly.
I guess he was right. Maybe resting for a while would do me good, considering I had work in a few hours, but I did not need to be babied. I had lived pretty much independently and gotten through worse situations by myself...but truthfully having someone look after me was kind of nice.
Collapsing onto my bed, I sprawled out on top of the sheets, as it was too hot to be under them. These clothes were very warm.
Nonchalantly, as if by accident, my hands landed on top of my stomach. I tensed up immediately, feeling the extremely slight bump that was there. My fingers circled it and I closed my eyes.
It was so surreal to have an actual human being inside of me. Of course, right now they were probably no more than a bundle of cells, but they were going to be something soon. A real person with feelings and thoughts and a heartbeat. And I made them.
I had been lying in place, thinking about random things until I lost track of time. When I finally realised that a while had passed, I wondered why Vic was not back yet. Did he burn himself and go off to a hospital? Did he electrocute himself and die? Did he just decide that I was not worth it and left? Knowing him, all of those were probable.
I climbed out of bed and stepped out of the door, confused to hear voices. I made my way down the short hallway and stopped in my tracks at what I saw at the end. Sitting in the lounge, talking and drinking coffee together, were Vic and my mom.
I was kind of speechless so I stood there and watched, until Vic noticed me.
"Oh, hey, Kells!" He said cheerily. "I was just having a chat with Mary. Dude, your mum's so chill!"
I guess I forgot about the fact that my mom was sleeping at home after a night shift. Vic had probably woken her up by making noise in the kitchen so she decided to come out of her room and check out what was going on. I hoped he wasn't being annoying. Mom needed to rest from how hard she worked so I did not want Vic disturbing her.
"I made you tea and heated up some mac and cheese," Vic smirked, obviously proud of himself.
"Honey, you never told me you had such an amazing friend," mom pointed out. I wanted to correct her and tell her that we weren't exactly friends, but doing so would only make her disappointed.
"Never had the chance," I shrugged, picking up my food and drink. "I'm just going to go to my room and sleep some more to get ready for work. Vic, you...do whatever."
I began walking away to retreat into my room, when my mom's voice stopped me, "No, you're not working today. Vic told me about what happened and there is no way I'm letting you leave the house. So just stay here with us and stop being so uptight. Enjoy yourself for once."
I wanted to argue with her but my mom was very persistent and would not drop it. So I just sighed in defeat and sunk into the couch next to Vic, munching on my food and listening to their conversations, sometimes even joining in.
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A/N
Jeez this took ages to write. Around 2500 words, damn.
So something kinda funny happened the other day. For history, we were supposed to bring in magazines because we were going to analyse the pictures in them. My friend brought in an entire stack of Kerrang. So my teacher started looking through one of them and was quite weirded out, and then she saw Josh Dun. She started dissing everything about him XD. She was appalled with his eye makeup and said he looked like he had not slept in 10 years, and said his hair was ugly, and that Tyler was creepy for dressing like a skeleton. My friend who was also in this class really likes TOP so she had to sit and listen to our teacher completely dragging her favourite people for like 5 minutes. It was hilarious though.
Also, wayheyhey we reached 1k!
Thanks for reading!