Holiday From Real

Vicky was finally on her way back home, after having spent the last four and a half hours with Mary Jane and Ashlee, not that she was complaining. Mary Jane was rightfully upset after the trial, and she needed people around her. She had told Ashlee and Vicky that she had asked Gabe not to come because she hadn’t wanted him to see her break down. She had wanted to be strong for him, but when the girls had come she had completely let her guard down.

It was now nearing midnight, and Vicky was ready to just go back home and go straight to bed. She wanted to just sleep away everything that had happened today.

But, she was in for a shock when she finally reached the door of her apartment. There, sitting on the floor in front of her door, was none other than Brendon.

“Brendon, what are you doing here?” Vicky asked him.

He suddenly looked up, previously unaware that Vicky was in front of him. He tried to stand up, but stumbled from all of the alcohol in him.

Vicky stared at him. “Brendon, are you drunk?” she asked walking toward him. Soon, she was able to smell the alcohol on him. “God, you are drunk!”

“Vicky, I need to talk to you.”

“Brendon, go home. Sleep it off,” she said as she unlocked her door and walked in. Brendon followed her. “Brendon, I said…” she began.

“Just listen,” he slurred.

“Brendon, you’re drunk,” she repeated.

“I love you, Vicky,” Brendon said quickly.

Vicky spun around to face him. Had she heard him correctly? He had never told her he loved her before, so why did he choose this moment to do so? He's drunk, Vicky thought. He doesn't mean it.

“I want us to get back together,” Brendon told her. “And if you want us to have sex in order for us to do so, then fine.”

“Brendon, I’m not going to have sex with you right now. You’re wasted, and you have no idea what you’re even saying right now.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” Brendon slurred.

“Brendon, just go home,” Vicky told him.

“No,” Brendon argued. “I am not going home. Vicky, I want to fix everything. I know I fucked up, but I want to fix it,” he said drunkenly as he grabbed her wrists and pulled her close to him.

“Brendon, what are you…” she began before she was cut off by his lips crashing down on her.

Vicky pulled away saying, “Brendon, stop.”

“No, I’m fixing everything,” he said as he kissed her again.

Vicky could taste the alcohol in his kiss, and she knew that he was completely trashed. She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip on her wrists, as he tried to pull her back to her bedroom. Finally, he made it inside and shoved her down on the bed. He pulled his shirt off, and began working on hers.

“Brendon, please stop,” Vicky said, worry evident in her voice. She had never seen Brendon like this, and he was beginning to scare her. “Please stop,” she repeated as he managed to unbutton her shirt.

“I’m fixing everything,” Brendon kept repeating.

As he started working on unbuttoning her pants, Vicky realized he wasn’t going to stop, despite her pleas. Tears began falling down her cheeks, as she didn’t know what to do to get him to quit.

Brendon looked up at Vicky’s face, and immediately, he sobered up. “Oh my god!” he yelled, jumping off of her. “Oh my god! What the hell am I doing?”

Vicky sat up, looking at Brendon. She attempted to re-button her shirt.

“I am so sorry, Vicky. I’m sorry,” he kept repeating. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m so sorry.”

“Brendon,” Vicky began.

“No, I’m sorry,” Brendon apologized once again. “I’m just going to go,” he said grabbing his shirt off the floor and walking toward the front door.

“Brendon, wait!” Vicky called. She didn’t know what had just happened, and she needed an explanation from him.

“I’m sorry,” Brendon kept saying over and over as he walked out the door.

Vicky slumped down on the couch. She didn’t know what to do, but she knew she needed to talk to somebody. So, she called the only person she could think of.

“MJ, hey, I’m sorry to bother you, but I really need to talk to you. I think you’re the only one I can talk to about this,” Vicky said when Mary Jane picked up her phone.

“I’ll be over in ten minutes,” Mary Jane said hanging up her phone and grabbing her keys off the table.

When she got to Vicky’s apartment, she found the front door unlocked. She walked inside, seeing Vicky sitting on the couch curled into a ball.

“Vicky, what’s wrong?” Mary Jane asked rushing over to her and sitting down next to her.

Vicky sat up, looking at Mary Jane, tears still evident in her eyes. “Brendon came over,” she told her.

“Oh,” Mary Jane said. “Did you guys get into another fight?”

“Not exactly,” Vicky said.

“Then what happened?”

“Well, he was completely trashed. I mean I could smell the alcohol on him. He told me that he loved me and that he wanted us to get back together. He then said that if we had to have sex in order for that to happen, then we could. I told him no and that he needed to go home and sleep everything off.”

“Why do I feel like this isn’t the whole story?” Mary Jane asked.

“It’s not,” Vicky admitted. “When I told him I didn’t want to have sex, he said he just wanted to fix everything, and then he kissed me. I told him to stop, but he just held onto my wrists tighter. He led me back to my bedroom and pushed me down on the bed. And then,” Vicky’s voice began to break.

“And then what?” Mary Jane asked, worried about what her best friend was going to say next.

“And then, he started unbuttoning my shirt and pants. I kept telling him no, but it’s like he couldn’t hear me. MJ, I didn’t recognize him. I have no idea who this person was,” she said as tears began to form in her eyes.

“Please, tell me he didn’t rape you. I swear to God, if he did, I will kill him,” Mary Jane said seriously.

“He didn’t rape me,” Vicky said quickly. “I started crying, and he looked down at me, and all of a sudden, he was back to the Brendon I know. The sweet, amazing guy. He got off of me, apologizing a million times. And then, he just left. I tried to get him to stay so I could talk to him and figure out what the hell all of that was, but he just kept apologizing and left.”

“He didn’t rape you?” Mary Jane clarified.

“No, I promise,” Vicky said. “I just don’t know what the hell happened.”

“I don’t know either, but we’re going to figure it out. Let him sleep on it for tonight, and we’ll make sure you talk to him about it tomorrow.”

“Thanks, MJ,” Vicky told her.

“No problem,” Mary Jane said with a smile. “God, I don’t know how many times you were there for me after everything that happened with Chris.”

“Still, thank you. I shouldn’t be burdening you with my problems with everything that happened today with you.”

“Vicky, I’m glad you called me tonight. I’m glad that I could help you.”

“Thanks,” Vicky said once again.