You're Such a Gorgeous Nightmare

From the kitchen, I was catching bits of hushed conversation between Bryan and someone else. The voice was familiar but I couldn't quite place it.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that..." the voice.

"It's really not your fault." my brother.

"I feel like it is... I just..." the voice.

"Don't blame yourself. We should have been more supportive of you, especially when you went to jail. I can't believe we just abandoned you like that. And then Max went to rehab and we were supportive of him even though he was partly to blame for your having to go to jail... You must have felt so terrible."

Oh. My. Fucking. God. I knew exactly who he was talking to. Ronnie Radke.

"You know, I did, for awhile. Then I sort decided, 'screw them.' But I decided I should say sorry for what I did. It must have been hard for you guys to watch it all go down, while I was addicted to drugs, and then just going off to jail... I don't exactly blame you for not wanting anything to do with me." Ronnie.

"But what about-" Bryan.

"That was the past. Can't we just forget it all?" Ronnie.

I tiptoed out of the kitchen and into the dining room, where I could sneak a peek at Bryan and Ronnie.

"That would be good."

"SHIT!" I yelled, stubbing my toe on the large, heavy chair at the head of the table in the dining room.

"Is that...?" Ronnie asked.

"Yes," Bryan sighed, slightly angered at my presence.

Ronnie found his way into the dining room. He extended his hand to help me up. "Brii. Hi. It's been awhile," he smiled.

Oh my god, he had the most amazing smile, even with his slightly crooked bottom teeth. It didn't matter. It only drew me to him more because he wasn't/i] perfect. But I think everyone knew that he wasn't one trying to be perfect; he'd just gotten out of prison for something that he couldn't be proved or disproved of doing, he'd quit doing drugs while he was in prison, and he could only try to make things between him and his ex-bandmates better. That wasn't trying to be perfect, it wasn't anything near perfect.

Maybe that was why he was perfect.

I let him pull me up from my position on the floor, and held onto his hand a little longer than necessary. "Yeah. It has been a long time. Oh, and thanks," I accidentally giggled, blushing.

"You're welcome. How have you been?" Ronnie asked, causing the shade of my cheeks to go from light pink to bright red.

Bryan left the room, obviously bored and upset with me, giving me the chance to answer truthfully. "I don't even know, to be honest with you."

"Why?"

"You really want to know? It's a long story. I'm sure you have better things to do." I said, the shade of my cheeks returning to normal.

"I have time."

I wasn't expecting to break down crying. When I did, he wrapped his arms around me, wiped away my tears and kissed me on the forehead. "You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to," he said.

He would be the first person I told. I was comfortable around him. He was the first man, or anybody really, that I felt comfortable with since what happened. I realized I was on his lap and didn't attempt to move at all. "No, I will. I'll tell you. It happened last year. I was dating this guy, he was a few years older than me. I decided I didn't want to be with him because he just wasn't the type of person I hang around with. We weren't that serious, I was still in high school and I didn't see him that much. When I tried to break up with him, he... He..." I paused for a minute or so, and started again, taking a deep breath. "He raped me. I got pregnant, and I had an abortion. I feel terrible about it. I killed what could have been someone great. It's all my fault. I messed up. I always mess up. Such. A. Fuckup."

"It isn't your fault," he said. "And you're not a fuckup. I promise you."

And then, he kissed me.