Paint Me a Picture

***A few months later***

"Oh my gosh!" I screamed, running into the living room. Gerard was making some coffee in the kitchen. He walked out with a confused look on his face.
"What is it, babe?" He asked. I ran to him and handed him the piece of paper that was in my hands. He read over it quickly and then smiled.
"I knew you would get accepted!" Gerard cheered and pulled me into a big hug. I had got acepted into the college in NY that I so desperately wanted to go to. I started crying in happiness. I was going to live my dreams.
"On full scholarship too" He said in amazement as he kept reading the paper. I nodded, wiping away my tears.
"That's amazing! Not even I got a full scholarship. The student has surpassed the master" He chuckled.
"I have to leave next month" I smiled. His face dropped.
"So you're moving out?"
"Can't you come with me?"
"I can't just leave. New york is expensive and I'm just a teacher, Mel" I put my hand to my forehead as more tears came down my face, but for a different reason now. Gerard wasn't coming with me. I felt suddenly torn. Gerard or my dreams? Which was I supposed to choose?
"I need some fresh air" I whispered and walked out of the house. I decided to walk to the park. There were many bad memories there, but I still seemed to find some kind of peace there. I sat down on the bench and soon after a guy with a hood on sat beside me. I could feel his stare, but I didn't say anything.
"You can't say hi to an old friend?" The guy asked, pulling his hood down. It was Greg. My heart stopped as I tried to get up. He grabbed my wrist lightly and pulled me back down. His eyes were pleading for me to stay. I rolled my eyes, but didn't try to get up again.
"Hi" I murmured.
"You don't sound too happy"
"I'm not"
"That's understandable" He sighed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "It's alright to hate me"
"I do. I don't need your permission to do so either" My anger was flaring up. This guy had been hired to ruin my life. This guy had cut me and hurt me. This guy was on the same level as my father. My horrible fucking father.
"Just listen" He pleaded. How was even capable of making me feel slightly bad? I would never know.
"Listening"
"I did it for my family" He said, "We're broke and...your father promised us good money. The feelings I had for you weren't fake"
"Cry me a river" I growled and got off the park bench. I walked off as fast as I could. My father had paid people to make my life fucking miserable. Go figure.