Death Is Never Permanent

“Well don't you make one sexy looking school girl.” Lucas said smirking, looking up and down my body.
Smooth, real smooth jackass.
“Or at least without the bruises and cuts that is...” He mumbled lowly after. Funny, I seem to remember a certain someone-named Lucas-giving me all of the cuts and bruises I have right now.

“What the fuck do you want?!” I asked while shifting from my left to right foot. Remind me to never, ever wear these heels again. No matter what.

“You honestly want me to answer that?” He smirked and licked his bottom lip just slightly, I almost didn’t even notice it.
Oh, God what did I get myself into now?

“I don't have time for this!...” He walked closer to me, trying to be intimidating but I wouldn't fall for it, I just stayed still. Standing my ground in my 3 inch heels.

“Really?” He picked up my tags, his fingers pushing the loose fabric in at my stomach, so that his finger tips brushed across the thin fabric and my skin; shivers went up and down my spine. “…Because it didn't look like you were doing much of anything Valencia.”
My minded wandered, how did he know my name?
I wouldn't let that affect me though; I didn't show how shocked I was. Instead he smiled, dropped the tags so they rest back against my stomach and walked a step closer to my body.
“You never answered me... What do you want, why are you here.” I demanded; something seemed to snap in him and he backed away, his cocky self coming back out.

“Oh...Well I haven't seen you at the club, I was wondering if you were dead somewhere.”

“Really? You think I was dead in a ditch?” He nodded and smirked some more “And you care why?” He shrugged.

“Just thought it was weird that the last time you were seen was when I was with you at the sho-”

“Oh, yeah” I slapped him full force on the side of the face, leaving an instant bright red mark on his cheek. His head whipped to the side and his lips pursed after the fact “THAT. Was for punching me and calling me a bitch, you're such a fucking bastard you know that?!”

“I'm sure you're going to enlighten me either way!” He yelled. I knew we now had an audience in the distance.

“You know nothing about me. You're just upset that a girl kicked your ass and you los-” He grabbed at my waist and pulled me flush up against his hard chest. I fought; trying to get away from his touch by pushing on his chest with my forearms and hands.

“I know more about you than you think I do sweetheart...” He whispered his face only inches away from mine, making me freeze a moment. He was bluffing; I knew it by the tone of his voice, he may be a good fighter but he was also a terrible actor.

“Oh, I'm so sure you do.” I shoved him away. I thought for a moment that his eyes flash a “hurt” look at me by pushing him away like I did but then again I highly doubt it. This was all probably just my imagination making me even think him being saddened by my refusal, was actually truthful in anyway. “You don't know shit.” I scoffed, smiling and laughing some at his fuming expression.

“I know enough.” He said softer. “Especially about you being the princess to everyone at the club...how you were supposedly the “best” fighter there....Seems a little hard to believe now, looking at your pathetic self.” He circled me around once, “You're a terrible fighter and you-” Did he just not understand that I won against him, he LOST! Not me, so how am I pathetic or terrible?
Angry, I cut him off before he could say anything else and went to hit him again although he grabbed my hand arm instead meanwhile, making a tisk, tisk-like noise.
“Now. Isn't the time...you don't want all of your little school friends to see you fighting do you?” Dammit, he was right. I knew they all were watching either directly or out of the corner of their eyes (depending on the person.) I hate him so much that I thought about making it “the time” to punch him anyways, catching him off guard. Yet I also knew that I would be back in jail before I could tell him to go screw himself if I was actually caught. With all the witnesses, someone would report me…

“Be at the club tonight.” He said again; only so I could hear into my ear, in a whisper. Then he turned and started to leave, just… walking away.
I walked behind him quietly until I grabbed him, turned him and slapped him a second time that day. Man, I was really liking this... But this time he fought back...well, sorta.
He turned, ripped his arm out of my grip and grabbed my upper arm and bad shoulder, squeezing tight enough to bruise the already bruised tissue 2 more times over. I involuntarily gasped muttering an “ow” at the pain in my shoulder before tears came to my eyes. They never fell but they were there. He said something smart to me, but I ignored him entirely trying to focus only on not showing any other sign of pain. Guess it didn't work. His fingers felt like knives; big, jagged butcher knives just tearing into my flesh and bone.
After a moment his eyes softened and he quickly let go. He looked at me in awe and wonder-like he hit his girlfriend in front of her father or even got caught doing something horrible like kicking a baby animal in front of the Animal Protection Agency- and then his sight shifted down at his beat up, rough looking cut up and bruised hands.
Then he was gone.

Just…gone.
I tore off my heels and walked, or rather stomped back to where the lunch tables and the huge crowd was, ignoring the talk like always and pushing through and past them all as I headed back inside, straight to the bathrooms.
This is one of those times I wished that I wasn't all alone in LA. Ale was back in New York now with Rain, and everyone else moved on... I wanted to see them though, just to see them. Even if it was in passing or through a window, even if they don’t see me- I just want to see their faces.
They helped me. I realize now that they had and still have no clue where I am. So I can only let my anger with them all go, they had no way of knowing what really happened.

(Little did Blaire know though, that at this very moment, Matt was on a plane which was about to arrive only hours from now at LAX. He even was able to talk Brian into coming with him... this whole situation is about to get even more interesting...)

Once inside the bathrooms, I unbuttoned the white shirt pulling it down to my elbows. I soon was only in my tank top, revealing all of the gross looking injuries that littered my body in weird looking, ugly patterns. Sure enough, there were also new finger print bruises on my upper arm (adding to my apparent “collection”) and even darker circles of purple and black bruises on my opposite shoulder blade and near my collar bone. I closed my eyes imagining everything else he could have done. Boys and their egos, it’s enough to drive a woman crazy. But then again, I guess I did go a little too far with the last slap. Hell I don't know what even processed me to do it. But it was sooooo much fuuuuuuuunnnnnnnnn. hehe.

I was brought away from my thoughts when some girls came inside the room, talking as the warning bell shrieked/squealed its annoying sound. I quickly put the shirt back on (not bothering to button it now) and left in search of my next class it was only then that I started buttoning my shirt back up sporadically as I walked.

**~*~*~*~*~*

I made my way home that night, walking of course, my mind thinking oddly about Lucas. And no, not even close to being in a good way. Out of all the fucking things… Lucas?!.
So many questions came up in my mind. I wanted to know why the fuck he was here today...the real reason. How he knew I was here. Why he wants me to meet him at the club tonight, why he didn't do something more when he easily could, and why he pisses me off SO much in general; this last question being the most important at the moment. I was raking my own brain about coming up with so many answers I lost count after 30 when a whole bunch more popped up all at once.

The club...I knew I was being watched, even if it was indirectly like cameras in a hallway watching everyone in the building. Should I go tonight and risk it just to prove to Lucas that he doesn't scare me and I'm not a pussy...Or do I use past experience, getting caught and being put into jail as a motivator to try and stay out. Either way would have bad outcomes most likely, though neither sounded more appealing to me. They were the same. I didn't want to go back to the fucking hell house of jail, to be in there with all the pedophiles that did whatever they wanted, no matter what they wanted... But I also didn't want to stay here, alone, when I knew Lucas was out there waiting for me not to show and prove I'm scared of him. I'm not though, if I was I wouldn't have fought him and or confronted him at school and at the coffee shop so...

Sighing I walked up the steps to my apartment and looked up to try and find any sign of where a video camera might be hiding. I didn't really see anything but that doesn't mean it isn't there, that they aren't there.
As I got to my apartment I unlocked and opened the door, stepped inside and put the lock into place again. I turned and there in the middle of my living room floor was Shimmy; just laying there with a blanket wrapped around him as he was deadly silent.

“Shimmy?” I asked concerned, and a little bit confused as to how he was here, why he was here and more importantly how the fuck he got into my damn apartment when it was clearly locked. “Shimmy!” I yelled louder as I walked over to him and bent down onto my knees, nudging him some. He bolted upright after gasping, all the while flailing his arms outwards in defense. “Hey, hey, hey it’s me!” I yelled moving away from him by scooting backwards on my butt. He breathed out long and loud in relief.
“Sorry Blaire, I just...sorry.” He smiled uneasily, probably wondering when a punch would come his way. Rolling my eyes I stood again and walked into the kitchen, and opened the cupboard to get a paper cup to fill with water. Opening it I did a double take.
There was food?

Since when?!
“Hey Shimmy?” I asked in that annoyingly knowing voice that mothers have when they are trying to make their kids feel guilty about doing something, and as a result they'll confess just about anything they've ever done to get you to shut up and leave them alone. That sweet sugar coated, ‘what the hell did you do; voice. I just knew he was up to something... This morning I had absolutely nothing in my cupboards or fridge at all except 1 box of leftovers... and believe me, I checked. Now however, stuff filled those cupboards and my fridge, overflowing is an understatement. Sure it was all junk food but that's beside the point at the moment.
I walked back into the room. “Where'd you get the food?” It better NOT have been with my money is all I thought about.

“At the stoooorrrrrreeeee.”

“I'm not stupid!” I hit his shoulder as he laughed a little “Why did you get it?”

“Umm see I was sort of wondering...If maybe I could possibly...um...well...”

“You want to stay here?” I plainly said. His face lit up until he looked at my serious expression.

“Maybe?” He looked sort of scared.

“First I want to know, no scratch that. Tell me how you got out of the jail cell...again.”

“They couldn't place me there at the scene 100%, and there wasn't enough evidence and so they had no choice but to let me go. Blaire, listen to me. I didn't do it, I'm telling you the truth...I didn't kill that guy OR rob the store. I'm not that stupid!” Something told me not to believe him; that something was weird about his randomly, mysteriously getting out. Especially since he looked so guilty when I asked him if he had actually done what he was convicted of, the first time at the station. Plus he never once looked at me when he just talked seconds before, and I still don't know how he got in here to my apartment...or where he got the money to buy the food that had to be at least 4 or 5 hundred dollars worth of junk, snack type foods.

I let him stay, after I went into the bathroom and counted out the money I hid where no one would be able to find it... In a sealed plastic bag in the toilet under the back “tank” of it; duck taped to the top of the removable lid. I need a new hiding place now...but it was all there was option-wise at the moment. I had no reason think twice about his shady actions and I couldn't just let him out on the street..

We sat up against the wall on my mattress eating ice cream and talking about stuff, nothing in particular. It was just nice to have someone to talk to especially after living all that time alone in a dark cell. He even managed to pry my mind from Lucas and well, everything, really. It was nice.
Nice until I looked over at the cheep clock I had plugged into the wall at least, 11:55pm was shining back at me in blue luminous lights. Then it all came back…
“Be at the club tonight” echoed in my brain.

----------------------------

-Matt's Pov-

“Awwaaahhh.” Brian groaned barely awake as we stepped out of the taxi, it was nearly midnight and we just now got to the hotel. “I'm fucking dead.” He groaned again as we got our bags and checked in, he laid his head onto the marble counter as I got the key cards to both of our rooms. He insisted we got separate rooms... even though there were 2 beds in each, and now with the look I'm getting from the guy behind the computer and the woman as well I'm both regretting and loving not having the same room. The guy looked happy, looking us both up and down while the girl maybe relived in a way?

After checking in we got into the elevator and headed up to the 5th floor. I wondered if he would care that I sneaked out and tried to find her. After all, on the flight he threatened me that if I did 'he'd shoot me... if she didn't first.' It wasn't very, let’s say realistic, but for some fucking reason he had this possessed look in his eyes... Like I made him come to LA with me, and now he's gonna try and tell me what to do like I'm a kid? I don't think so.

“Oh no no no no no no NO!!!!!” I gave him a questioning look, and he looked back at me in the same manor. “It all clicked.. YOU are planning to go find her tonight! What did I TELL YOU?!?!”

“What are you talking about?” I tried acting clueless.

“You know what” He paused “Fine. Go ahead and go find her! I hope she kills you for being this stupid!” He said this all in the process of finding, unlocking, opening and re-shutting the door behind him.

Ohhhkkkkkaaaaayyyyy.... I drew out in my mind before I went into my own room, changed quickly, looked in the mirror and went out in search of the club I asked Ale about without being to knowingly conspicuous, a couple of days beforehand. There were a total of 5 possibilities, 3 were used more often than the other 2 so I was starting with those hoping I could find her there at one of those spots...