Bradley took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts. It wasn't like they were friends, but he knew that he had to make sure she was okay. It had been a week and he had kept to himself, knowing that everyone else needed time as well.
He was a mess, he understood that. He hadn't showered since that night, afraid to be alone in his bathroom too long. Evil Brad hadn't shown himself either, which was a relief to him. He also hadn't slept much.
He knocked, wondering if PJ was there. He was surprised to see the door open a little. His heart skipped a beat. Why wasn't it locked?
He walked in, his sneakers sounding like heels against the quiet air that filled the room. The only source of light were the candles on the tables.
"Hello?" he asked, wanting to make sure he wasn't intruding on anything.
He walked in, cautious of his surroundings. He didn't trust his own shadow at this point.
"Mocha? Mocha, you here?"
He jumped as the black haired beauty stepped out from the bathroom. She looked awfully pale.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, nervously. He had never known her to be nervous.
"I came to check on you," he said, willing his breathing to calm down. She had scared him. "The door was open."
She sighed and closed her eyes. "PJ must have left it open by mistake. He went out to get us something to eat."
"Okay, I'm glad you're not alone. Sorry if I'm rambling, you gave me quite a scare."
"We should all be on edge," she said softly. She was tugging at her sleeves, which looked wet.
"Why do you say that?" He asked.
"Just a feeling, Brad." she stated, tired.
"Have you had nightmares too?" he asked softly. She nodded.
"It was terrible. I rather not talk about it," she said. "How's Roxanne and her leg?"
"Much better, she was discharged today. Stacey called me and told me." He couldn't help but feel like something was wrong.
"Good, good." she said, lost in thought. She turned away from him. "You want something to drink?"
"Uh, no I'm okay." he said. "Do you mind if I use your bathroom, though?"
"NO!" she exclaimed quickly. Her face had gone paler. "I mean, its dirty, I wouldn't feel right-"
"It's fine, I live with men, I've seen worse." he tried to make a joke, but she blocked his way. He looked down at her, her dark eyes, swollen, as if she had been crying.
"What don't you want me to see?" he asked her. He knew it wasn't his place, but he grabbed her by the wrist, trying to push her aside.
"Bradley, stop!" she pleaded. He felt her smack him behind his head. He turned to face her, ready to go into the bathroom when he noticed his hand.
It was red, sticky and fresh.
He looked up at Mocha who had begun to shed tears, but she kept her gaze firm. They were both breathing heavily into the still energy that seemed to be radiating between them.
"You're not the only fucked up one, Bradley," evil Brad taunted, standing behind Mocha. She closed her eyes, still frowning. Bradley knew she could sense Evil Brad's presence.
"I am not fucked up," she said. Bradley noticed Evil Brad step away from her, shocked.
"Mocha- what are you doing?" Bradley said, taking a step forward. She took a step back.
"Let me just clean up the bathroom before Peej gets here, please. He can't find out." Mocha said.
"He will know about this." Bradley said, feeling sorry for her. He knew what it was like.
"Not if I don't tell him."
Bradley could seem the blood stains clearer now through her long sleeve. Now that he knew what to look for.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of. It doesn't mean you're weak." Bradley said. "We all cope with whatever this is, differently."
"It is! I swore to myself I would never fall this low again!" she yelled at him. "What would you know?"
He moved towards her so fast that she had barely any time to react. He pulled up his sleeves to show her the scars he held on his arm. There were many.
"I do know. I am battling with this shit everyday Mocha. I almost killed myself! But I don't know what's keeping me grounded right now. Is that what you wanted to hear?" he yelled, feeling his own eyes water. He wiped them away. He had never spoken these words out loud. "I came here to see if you were okay, and I'm glad I did. We will all get through this with clear heads! Nothing less! And I don't expect anything less from you."
At that instant, PJ walked in, holding a box of pizza. He was surprised at the scene that lay in front of him.
"What's going on here?" he asked, setting the pizza down. He had gone pale. "Baby, you didn't- come here."
Bradley watched as PJ wrapped his arms around Mocha, who began to cry uncontrollably. He knew it was his time to leave.
Jasmine took another glass of wine. She was sitting by her window, looking out at the night sky. She didn't know if she was drunk yet, but she felt somewhat buzzed.
She wanted to remain numb at all cost.
It wasn't that she was scared of what had happen that night, but it opened her eyes to what could have been.
She could have lost her life.
Max could have died.
Bradley could have died.
She took another long sip. What did she want? These two men were out of her life now. Why was it always those two she thought about?
"But it's him right?" she asked herself. She began to laugh. "It was always him."
She knew she wouldn't remember anything in the morning. No point in lying to herself right now.
"You're such a shallow bitch," she said out loud. "Always so shallow."
She was so close to losing him that night, and he had been so brave. What would she have done then? Gosh, and not to mention those ghouls were still out there.
"I have to protect him!" she yelled to no one. She was drunk now. "They could be- could be right there and he is alone and-"
She laughed again. "No, no. He is probably with her, Jasmine. Duh,"
She poured herself more wine. She was hungry.
"I need food. And to protect him. But first food."
She heard a knock on the door.
"Who is it?" she yelled, before everything went black. She dreamt of him that night, for once, a peaceful a dream... one she would remember in the morning.