The clock had just struck seven and the guests were slowly filling our empty home. The new personal maids Lucille had assigned to me were almost frantic in their efforts to prepare me, making sure I looked the part of Angel Lastor. At least, as close as they could manage.
I stood quietly in front of the full body length mirror as they continued to fuss over me. I could clearly see my eyes were blood shot from lack of sleep. I had gotten paler and my skin looked dry.
I glanced at my arms, looking at the track marks up and down each arm along with the faded scars and bruises. They've spent the past hour covering them with makeup as best as they could all the while, making sure they weren't touching me directly. I was glad I had shot up on heroin during my bath, otherwise, I might have cut their fingers off by now.
Once they were finally satisfied of their handiwork, I dismissed them and went to the bathroom. I opened the medicine cabinet and took out the prescription bottle I had swiped from Mother's budoir earlier. I opened it to count the pills. There were at least thirty. I popped them three at a time, chasing each dose with a shot of vodka.
"We're okay," I whispered at the girl staring at me in the mirror. She resembled death.
As I descended the stairs, I could see sharply dressed men and women, flaunting designer clothes and expensive jewelry. A few heads turned to look up at my descent and I quickly took careful steps with my head focused on the stairs, wishing that Andrea was here. She was in the middle of negotiations for her next tour, and I didn't want to risk inspiring her to force another collaboration with me.
A waitress passed by me and I grabbed a flute of champagne, downing it to ease my nerves and quickly fetching another.
I tried to find a place to hide but before I could, a group of men cornered me, the nauseating toxic mix of their respectively strong perfume assaulting my already damaged nostrils.
They started talking and I knew escaping would be hopeless. They'd only follow me until I either chose one among them or died right then and there. So, out of courtesy, I bore with them holding a pissing contest through passively gloating about their successful businesses and pounded a glass of champagne every time one of them tried to touch me. By the eleventh glass, the pills had kicked in and I was tipsy enough to find them entertaining.
"Excuse me, gentlemen," a voice said.
The men ignored him but Rick managed to push through their shoulders and came to stand beside me.
"Here. Jude sent this for you."
He took my champagne and replaced it with a glass of water. I giggled.
"You're so fucking funny. God, how are you so funny?" I said as I took my champagne from him. "Do y'all know Rick? Isn't he beautiful? He's spectacular in the sack too. Probably way better than any of you but that's cuz he used to read books about pussies. Babe, say hi to everyone." I gestured at them. "They're trying to convince me to fuck them," I whispered to him.
He tilted his head to one side, looking at me with those questioning eyes again. He just couldn't quit with that.
"You don't look well," he remarked with concern.
I rolled my eyes at his observation. "Well, not everyone can be as beautiful as you are, babe," I said, aware I was slurring my words.
"I think it's time you get cut off," he said before taking my glass from my hand and swallowing the remaining contents of my drink.
"Hey, that was mine!"
"Come on, let's get you sobered up," he said, taking my hand.
"No! I'm having fun!" I protested.
"You're making a scene, gorgeous."
I wrinkled my nose. "I like it better when you call me baby."
He sighed. "Baby, let's go sober up."
I cracked up. "Nice try, Doc." I yanked my hand out of his grasp. "I'm staying."
He glared. "I swear, I'll carry you if I have to."
"Hey, maybe you should leave her alone, pal," one of the guys said, placing a hand on Rick's shoulder.
"I think you should get your hand off me," Rick fired back. "Pal."
The guy chuckled humorlessly before getting up in Rick's face, standing toe to toe with him.
"You wanna take this outside?" He shoved him. "Pal."
Before I even knew what was happening, I found myself bent over and looking at the floor, hurling my guts out onto the guy's shiny shoes.
"Oh my God!" he yelled out as he jumped away from me.
I heard Rick curse as he hastily pulled my hair back but it was too late. Everyone within three feet was splattered with vomit. I was too dizzy to feel ashamed.
I felt my head spin and Rick immediately grabbed me, holding me to him. I glanced around us and sure enough, every pair of eyes were focused on the scene. Mother and Father were making their way over to us but Jude got to me first, pressing a handkerchief to my mouth.
"I'll take care of this. Go upstairs and stay there until I come," he said to me before glancing at Rick. "Do not leave her side."
Rick nodded and shifted his hold on me, lifting me up in his arms and carrying me up to my room.
"What did you take?" he asked while wiping my face with a wet towel.
I scoffed. "I didn't take anything."
"You can barely keep your head up," he said disapprovingly. "What did you take, baby? I need to know."
"A couple of pills."
"How many?"
I tried to think but my head was too cloudy and I wanted to sleep.
"Don't know."
"Hey, hey. Eyes open." He snapped his fingers at my face. "What pills did you take?"
"Over there."
I pointed at the trash bin. He threw the contents to the floor and picked out the medicine bottle.
"How many were in here?"
"Hm. A lot?" I said, giggling.
"Give me a ball park."
I chewed on my lip, trying to recollect my memory from earlier in the night.
"Thirty-ish."
He muttered a curse. "We need to induce vomit."
"It hurts," I whined.
"I know, baby, but you have to," he said, guiding me into the bathroom and sitting behind me as I faced the toilet bowl. "Just one more time."
"Don't feel like it."
He sighed. "I'm sorry about this," he said before forcing two fingers down my throat.
I trashed against him, trying to get away but he held me still until bile rose, the pills clattering on the toilet as I spat them out.
"You fucking asshole," I hissed.
He only responded by kissing the back of my head before getting up and filling a glass with water for me. He drew a bath and, after stripping us both, carried me into the tub with him, the heat of the water making me wince.
Quietly, he started washing me with a cloth, the makeup the maids worked tirelessly to cover the track marks on my arms and my healing bruises from my fights disappearing.
"What happened?" he asked as he brushed his thumb over my torn knuckles.
"I needed release," I murmured, twining our fingers together.
"Did it work?"
"Only for a while." I tilted my head back, pressing my face against his shoulder. "Why are you here?"
"Jude invited me."
"No, I meant why are you here with me?" I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. "You're supposed to be staying away from me, Rick."
"I couldn't stand watching you be so miserable for one more second," he said, meeting my gaze. "You were surrounded by men competing for your attention but despite that, they somehow failed to notice the misery you were desperately trying to drown with champagne."
"You're too good," I said, pulling him down to me and kissing his cheek. "Will you promise me something?"
"What?"
"Don't ever love me."
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips but it seemed sad and I hated it.
"I won't."
He wrapped his arms around me and I closed my eyes, feeling the comfort his body offered as he brought heat into my cold empty shell. It was too good.
"Have you slept lately?"
I stilled at his question, my eyes snapping open.
I slept. And then I'd wake up screaming.
I pulled away but he quickly tightened his arms, pulling me closer.
"Stay with me," he murmured as he buried his face in my hair. "Let me hold you."
A sharp pain pierced through my chest at those words but I bore it. The comfort he offered was worth the pain.
I placed my palm on his chest, feeling the steady beating of his heart and I envied it. His heart was too good. Filled with so much care for anyone who needed it and I didn't deserve that.
I rested my head against his chest once more, closing my eyes.
"What's it like to be like you?"
"What do you mean?"
I sighed, nuzzling closer, letting myself be surrounded with all of him.
"To not feel pain. To be... good. I envy you so much. I wish I had what you have."
He sighed, brushing my hair. "What do I have?"
I cracked a small smile, keeping my eyes closed. "A heart... a good one. So pure... so kind... I wish I could take it for myself."
He chuckled softly, kissing my ear. "Take it then."
I shook my head, listening to the steady beating of his heart, the rhythm of it calming me somehow.
"I can't. I'll break it."
"Who broke yours, Angel?"
I sighed. "Everything."
"Everything?"
"Everything. Everyone. Every day. Always."
"What can I do to make it better?"
"This. Just this," I whispered, accepting the comfort that always came with his presence.
"Okay," he said, embracing me tightly while I relented and stopped fighting the exhaustion.
I didn't know how or when but I slept.
* * *
I awoke to the feel of being shaken and I groaned, turning away.
"Angel, wake up, baby."
I slowly fluttered my eyes open, seeing a pair of blue eyes looking at me. I frowned, blinking my eyes repeatedly before glancing around us and I was faced with the familiar setting of my bedroom.
My senses slowly came back to me and I sat up, noticing I was wearing a bath robe and my hair was slightly damp. I felt a hand touch my shoulder and I drew back, turning to look at Rick. He offered a small smile as he sat beside me.
"Hi," he said.
"H-hi..." I replied uncertainly.
"You fell asleep."
"Oh, right."
"Jude sent up our dinner. You can go back to sleep after you've eaten."
"I'm not hungry," I said, rubbing my temple as a pounding in skull started.
"If you don't eat, then I won't either," he said, tucking a finger under my chin and tipping my head back. "I work very hard to keep this body looking the way it is, FYI. On top of a daily two hour work out, I have to eat five meals throughout the day, otherwise I start losing muscle. You think you'll like cuddling with a skeleton instead?"
I sighed. "You're an ass."
"A fine ass," he quipped with a smug grin.
I rolled my eyes, shifting my head to bite the finger he had on my chin before moving to the edge of the bed.
"This doesn't count as the dinner you keep badgering me about," I muttered as I headed to the bathroom.
"Oh? Shall we schedule a separate meal for that?"
I glanced over to him, sending him a half-hearted glare. "Never."
His laughter followed me as I entered the bathroom. I quickly washed my face, putting on a new layer of makeup while remedying the bird's nest that was my hair. I was too tired to even bother making sure not one hair was out of place and just resorted to tying it in a high ponytail.
When I went back out, Rick was watching a basketball game on the television, lounging on my bed like he belonged there while trays of food were set around him.
I went over to sit next to him, grudgingly opening my mouth as he held out a piece of meat with his fork to me. I noticed there weren't any alcohol amongst the drinks on the trays and phoned the kitchen to bring me champagne. A few minutes later, one of my personal maids arrived with a bottle.
We conversed in my mother tongue as I asked about what was transpiring downstairs. Apparently, the disaster that was my doing had been quickly resolved and the party was going on relatively peacefully. She also informed me my mother had ordered for me remain in my room until the party was over, which was fine with me.
"You're half French, right?" Rick suddenly said after the maid had left.
"Yes, on my mother's side," I answered, filling a glass with champagne and handing it to him. "You've been?"
"Once, while I was backpacking through Europe after finishing med school, but I mostly spent it climbing mountains." He paused to take a sip of champagne. "I remember Jude used to spend winter breaks in France back in college. He invited me and Dex, our other roommate, to join him once. I couldn't go but Dex did. When he came back, he told me you'd been there and that you set a part of the castle on fire during a dinner party."
He snickered, offering me another forkful of meat and roasted vegetables. I accepted it, chewing slowly and taking a sip of champagne.
"I was bored. I only meant to cause enough trouble that they'd send me back to London already, but the fire caught too fast."
"What is it with you and fire? I heard you used to burn down the places you performed at."
I shrugged, picking at a plate of sliced fruits. "One of the shrinks I went through told me; I intentionally bring ruin to things to satisfy my self-destructive urges when hurting myself isn't enough."
"I hate that," Rick said solemnly.
I looked over to him, popping a slice of strawberry in my mouth as I watched the frown forming on his face tamper his beauty with lines. I leaned towards him, grasping his chin and pushing the strawberry against his lips with my tongue. He opened up, taking the fruit and my tongue in as I pressed our lips together in a lingering kiss.
He tensed briefly before relaxing and leaning into me with a sigh. I twirled my tongue, putting pressure on the fruit to cut it against his teeth. When the sweetness finally burst, I gave him all the taste of it until he became just as sweet.
Gradually, I drew back, placing chaste kisses on his lips until we were too far apart. He had a bewildered look in his eyes but I just smiled, swallowing the rest of the strawberry left from our kiss.
"What was that for?" he said in a breathy voice.
"I don't like seeing you miserable either, especially because of me," I said, picking out another slice of strawberry from the fruit plate. "Why couldn't you go?"
"Hm?"
"With Jude and Dex for winter break."
"Oh. I… uh, spent it taking care of my Mom. She was going through chemo that time."
I nodded. "Breast cancer, was it?"
"Yeah."
"How is she now?"
"She's wonderful," he said with evident adoration. "She's been in remission almost seven years now."
I managed to smile. "Good. That's good. Tell me if there's any problem with that."
He chuckled lightly. "Jude says the same thing whenever he asks about her. In fact, he practically took over her treatment after she was diagnosed and put together a team of specialists for her. All free of charge."
"He's a good man, my brother," I said before taking a sip of champagne.
"Yes, he is," he said, sounding dismayed. "I think he knows... about us."
"Subconsciously, I'm sure he does, but unless the facts are forced upon him, he will live in denial. He's very good at lying to himself, to the point that he believes his own lies."
"I feel like I owe it to him to tell him."
I arched a brow. "You would risk your friendship over a few meaningless fucks with me?"
He looked at me with a gaze darkened by annoyance. "If you really believe any of this has ever been meaningless, then you're a better liar than your brother."
I sighed, setting my attention on a tray with plates of desserts. "I'm Angel Lastor."
"Why do you keep introducing yourself?" he said incredulously.
"Because you often forget who I am," I said as I began cutting into a piece of tart. "I don't fault you for that. I welcome your disregard for my name and everything that comes with it, but nevertheless, I am Angel Lastor."
"Is that your way of saying I'm beneath you or something?" he muttered irately.
I shook my head, setting down a slice of tart on his plate. "Status and pedigree is irrelevant to me, but that's not the point I'm trying to make. I'm Angel Lastor. Certain things are expected out of me, different characters for one." I looked up at him, consciously holding indifference in myself. "The Angel I've been with you so far is just another character, one that doesn't have to smile and be polite to anyone. I choose to act this way with you because, as Jude's friend, I know I can trust you to a certain degree."
I straightened my posture, clasping my hands on my lap as I faced him with a demure smile and an intentionally soft gaze. His expression soured as if the sight of me repulsed him.
"But the fact remains, it's just another character," I went on, forcing the sophisticated accent I was made to learn into my tongue. "I can easily embody a different one from now own, if it can resolve any misconception you may have nurtured throughout our acquaintance."
He looked angry, almost violent, as if he wanted to rip my face off.
"Why can't you just be the real Angel?" he said grimly.
I kept smiling. "I believe I've told you before, I have no clue who that is. I can't possibly be someone I don't know."
"Stop that," he bit out.
"Stop what, Frederick?" I asked softly. "Oh, do you not find this character satisfactory? If so, tell me which Angel you'd find suitable for your taste, or perhaps we can create a new character just for you."
He lunged at me, pushing me onto my back and wrapping a hand around my throat. When he tightened his grip, enough to stifle my breathing, I felt a surge of adrenaline burst through me. He shoved his tongue into my mouth, kissing me roughly while pinning me beneath him with his weight. I felt his free hand snake up my thigh, parting my robe as he dragged his nails up my skin.
He squeezed my throat again, rendering me breathless, and kissing me harder while clawing at my skin. A moan slipped through my lips when he thrust his hardened cock against me.
All too soon, he pulled away from me.
"This," he whispered, his eyes boring into mine. "This is my Angel. Don't ever show me anyone else."
Frustration from both being teased so callously and dealing with this persistent man was simply too overwhelming. I fought the urge to both cry and beat the shit out of him. Perhaps I could just do both.
"Alright, then," I spat, throwing him off to side and quickly sitting astride him. "Tell me, what is it that makes you want me so much? Is it the pretty face? The spectacular fucks? Or the fucked up shit that I bring on the table? If you want to keep playing at this, give me your fucking game plan to level the ground because, to be honest, I've been wracking my brain trying to figure you out."
He took in my words for a moment before shaking his head.
"You make it sound like I'm out to get something from you."
"Are you?"
"The only thing I want to get out of you are answers, Angel. Like why did you scream like you were getting murdered in your sleep?"
He sat up, his eyes full of intent and I tried to move away from him but he grasped either side of my hips, holding me still.
"There. Right there." He leaned closer. "That's another thing I want to know. Why is it that whenever I ask you something, you always look like you're going to run away from me?"
"Stop it."
"Why? What's so awful that you just can't tell me? What are you hiding?"
"Shut up!" I shoved at his chest and he grasped my arms. "Let me go!"
"No. I'm done playing along and listening to your nonsense. If you think you can just play your mind games with me and walk away as if nothing happened like what you always do to every fucking person you encounter, then I'm sorry to disappoint you, Miss Lastor, you can't do that with me."
He pulled me closer, his eyes never leavining mine even when I tried to avert my gaze.
"Answer me... what are you hiding?"
The anger in him was frightening. How his body seemed to radiate with so much heat. How his eyes practically burned with so much fury. It was frightening but still, somehow, I knew he would never hurt me and I wished he would. Just so I could hate him.
I sucked in a steadying breath, consciously blocking him out as I became the empty shell that I truly was beneath the numerous characters I bore.
He caught it. It scared me how he could easily catch everything that I did.
"Another thing," he seethed. "What is that? That look. That fucking look as if you're.... you're nothing!"
"I am nothing."
"No, you're not!"
I frowned, raking my eyes over him. "Why are you so angry?"
"Because I…"
He pursed his lips before shaking his head, the anger in him gradually vanishing. His arms came around me, embracing me.
"I see it, Angel," he whispered, burying his face at the crook of my neck. "I see it and it scares the shit out of me."
I stilled at what his words implied.
"What do you see?"
I was afraid of what he could see, of what he had seen. He wasn't supposed to see anything. I wasn't supposed to show him anything but somehow, both of those things happened without me noticing.
"You want to die," he whispered, his voice barely audible but it came to me loud and clear.
I closed my eyes, sighing. "You've known that from the start."
He shook his head. "At first, I thought there was still a way. That I could do something to change that but now, I've realized that no one can and it's so hard to watch you get closer to death."
He let out a breath, sounding like it had been choking him. I felt his tears on my skin and sucked in a sharp breath, pulling away to look at him and the sight he offered ripped me apart.
The pain. God, the pain. I was hurting him.
I cupped his cheeks, brushing away the faint tears he had shed for me, someone who didn't deserve them. I felt like shit.
"You're crying... because you're in pain. You're in pain because of me." I screwed my eyes shut as the sight became too much to bear. "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."
"I'm not in pain. I'm angry. Fucking livid because you won't fight."
I chuckled, opening my eyes to look up at him. "There's no fight, sweetheart. It ended a long time ago. I did everything I could. I lost. I just want to rest now."
He shook his head, his face becoming etched with despair. "Don't say that."
I sighed, pressing my lips on the skin beneath his eyes. "I'll be okay. It will all be over soon."
"I'm not letting you die, Angel."
"Why?" I cried softly. "Why do you care so much?"
"Because all of this..." He touched my cheek, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. "It's a cry for help."
I felt anger surge through me at his words. "I don't fucking need your help!"
I ripped his hands off me but he grabbed my wrists, keeping me in place when I tried to move away. He kept looking at me in that way, stripping away my walls and digging his way inside of me. I fucking hated that look.
"I hear it even when you're not making a sound, Angel. I hear it. I can feel it. I can see it. You're in so much pain. You want it to go away but it won't. Let me, hm? You don't have to do this alone. You don't have to die. God, Angel, don't do that to yourself."
He was begging, as if he truly cared about my longing for death. I deserved it. I've done this for so long. I've fought enough. Why would he deny me of the death that I've earned?
"You only say that because you don't know me," I said, hating how open I've become. I hated it.
"I don't have to know you. From what I've seen... it's enough. You're running away from something. Someone," he whispered, a hand coming to hold my cheek and I flinched at the tender touch. "Angel, who did this to you?" he asked, his voice gentle as if he was afraid of saying the wrong thing.
I screwed my eyes shut, shaking my head. "Enough. That's enough."
I opened my eyes, ignoring the look in his eyes as I pulled away from his touch.
"If you'll excuse me, I need to use the bathroom," I said, my voice polite. Empty.
"No," he said firmly. "I know what you're going to do. I won't let you poison yourself any more."
I slapped him, growing sick of his self-righteousness.
"You can pity me. Cry for me. Care for me. But you cannot tell me what to do. You may not give a damn about what comes with my name but that doesn't diminish the influence it holds. The next time you presume to think you have an inkling of control over me, I will show you what this wretched name of mine really means."
I got off him and slowly padded across the room, heading towards the bathroom. When the door shut behind me, I leaned against it, letting out a shaky breath as I stared at the wall.
For a moment, I just breathed, forcing my walls to come back up as I tried to keep myself together. The more I was around him, the weaker I was becoming. He was constantly trying to get inside me, fucking with my head at every turn, confusing me, overwhelming me, and making me forget who I was.
With him, I wasn't Angel Lastor. I was just another person. An equal. A human being.
I hit myself, making myself remember everything my father had taught Jude and I when we were younger. That we were Lastors and we were above everyone else. Lastors didn't allow people to speak to them as equals. We were to be held at a higher degree. To be feared and respected. Envied and admired.
I was everything that people wanted. I had been molded to be worshiped by those who laid their eyes upon me and dominate those who were below me. Frederick was nothing. A mere ant compared to me. Someone who had to work hard to get to where he was while I was born into a kingdom of luxury.
My only equal was my brother. He was the only one allowed beyond my walls. Everyone else were only entitled to what I spared them and nothing else.
But Rick wasn't like the everyone else. That fact was becoming more apparent. Now, I was regretting ever thinking of playing with him.
My tricks didn't work on him. My face and name didn't affect him. The masks didn't faze him. The walls didn't shut him out.
He has gone farther than anyone has, his relentless pursuit becoming a threat to me, to the things I had so carefully hidden away from everyone. Because I've allowed him to. I let him in. Given him pieces of me.
"Stop," I told myself, hitting my head. "Turn it off. Turn it off."
I kept hitting myself, trying to find the switch. To turn it off. To be who I was supposed to be. To stop feeling. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't turn it off.