I'll Make You Feel Beautiful Once Again.

I finished what I was doing, grabbed my bag and jacket, and left. My shift at the record store had just ended, and I was walking towards my car when someone called my name. The voice was familiar enough for me to know who it was, but I didn't want to talk to him. Ignoring him wouldn't get me very far though.

"What do you want, Nick?" I asked, annoyed. He was my ex boyfriend, and after having a messy breakup a year earlier, I didn't exactly enjoy being in his presence.

"You know what I want."

"But I don't." I had an idea, but the thought of it was enough to repulse me.

"Connor, you still have feelings."

I really wasn't a confrontational person, in fact, I avoided it at all costs, if possible. It was quite a challenge to get the words out of my mouth. "You really followed me all the way to work just to try and convince me that I want you?"

"Do you think I'm going to give up that easily?" He went on.

"Get away from me," I said, trying to push him away. His size and strength proved to be a problem, against my small frame and height of 4'11.

"No."

"Is there a problem over here?" A tall, skinny man covered in tattoos asked, interrupting my physical struggle to get Nick away. He stared at Nick in a way that would be quite intimidating, if it were me he was staring at.

"Not at all," Nick answered confidently, though it was easy to see that the stranger's gaze was getting to him.

"Really? Because it looks like she wants you to get away from her," he said, coming to my defense.

"You don't know shit," Nick shot back.

"You're right. I don't. But I can see that she clearly wants you to get away from her," the tattooed guy said.

Nick reached out and grabbed my wrist, as if to pull me away. He was squeezing it tightly enough that I knew it would leave a bruise. "Let her go," the guy said, the same time I had said 'let go.'

"Or what?" Nick challenged, stupidly.

"I said, LET GO OF HER."

Nick's grip on my wrist was only getting tighter, cutting off the circulation to my hand. "Nick, you're hurting me."

He released his grip, both of his hands flying to his face to prevent the blood dripping out of his nose from getting on his clothes. Everything had happened so quickly, and I hadn't expected the stranger to actually punch Nick. "Maybe you should learn how to respect women, cunt," he said.

At that point, I was still trying to comprehend what had just happened; Nick had never done anything like that in public - and even if he had, I wouldn't have expected a complete stranger to help.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "I'm Mike, by the way."

"I don't know." I looked back and saw Nick walking off in the other direction across the parking lot. "He hasn't done anything like that, ever."

"Is he your boyfriend?" Mike asked.

"No. Ex. He's been following me to work lately, but I've been ignoring it. He's never done this in public."

"I just wanted to make sure he didn't hurt you."

I rubbed at my wrist, not saying anything. "I don't think he would hurt me," I lied.

"That's not what it looked like," he said quietly.

"I-"

"What was that all about, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He keeps trying to convince me to get back with him, but you might be able to tell he's not the nicest person in the world," I told him, sitting down on the curb.

"I noticed." Mike sat down next to me.

"It isn't even really like that, though. He has two completely opposite sides to him. When we were together, the only time he was a proper gentleman was when he was trying to impress someone. Not me, his friends. I swear, to him, I was just something to show off - and I'm hardly even worth showing off. If he wasn't..." I trailed off, beginning to cry. "Shit. I didn't mean to dump all this on you. I'm sure it's the last thing you want to hear."

"No, you're fine. If this is going to help, go ahead. I don't mind, I promise," Mike assured me.

"You were right though, if you weren't there, I probably would have ended up getting hurt."

He pulled me into a hug and rubbed my back, I was surprised at his efforts to help me feel better; I didn't even know him. I felt guilty for unloading all my feelings on him, but I usually didn't talk about my problems, ever. Plus, he was a stranger. Living in San Diego, it wasn't likely I'd ever see him again. I figured I'd take advantage of the opportunity.

"I dated him for three and a half years. I don't even know how we stayed together that long. When we first started going out, he was the nicest, sweetest guy ever. About a year after, though, he got really weird, he'd go weeks without answering or returning my calls, then out of the blue, he'd call in the middle of the night and ask to see me. Then there was a period of time when he wouldn't call me or see me unless it was for sex. After that was done, he got really controlling and wanted me with him all the time. I couldn't go anywhere or do anything unless I had his permission and he knew where I was going. He got really aggressive, and I tried ending it with him a few times, but every time I did he'd end up getting angry and throwing me around. I gave up for awhile, but after graduation it kind of just ended. He'd been seeing other people behind my back almost the entire time. We've been apart for a year now. A few weeks ago he started following me around to work and I didn't really know what to do so I just ignored him."

"I'm really sorry. Hopefully after today he gets the point." It looked like he didn't know what to say. I didn't blame him, if I were in his position, I wouldn't really know what to say either.

"Don't apologize. It isn't your fault."

"You know it isn't your fault, don't you?" he asked.

"Yeah, I guess."

"It isn't your fault." Mike said.

"Maybe it is."

"You're just being difficult, aren't you?"

"Maybe it's that," I replied.

"You really are something else," he smirked, shaking his head.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I don't know. Something about you is intriguing."

"That could be either really flattering or really creepy, and I'm not sure which it is," I said.

"Am I really that scary?"

"No. Yes." I nodded. "Yes."

"Really. Hey, I don't even know your name," he said.

"That's kind of creepy. You don't need to know my name. Buuuuut, it's Connor."

"That's a guy name."

"Now you're the one being difficult," I laughed.

"I'm just trying to distract you from everything and make you feel better. I think I'm doing a pretty good job of it too, if I don't say so myself. Do you mind?" He asked, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket.

"Not if you can share one with me."

"Sure." he pulled an extra out from the pack and passed the lighter to me before he lit his own. I lit it and passed the lighter back, taking a long drag and slowly releasing the smoke from my lungs.

"What about you?" I asked. "I'm tired of talking about myself."

"What do you want to know about me? I'm not that interesting."

"Anything. I don't care."

"Well," he thought for a moment, "I'm a drummer."

"Come on, that IS interesting. Are you any good?" I asked.

"I s'pose so," he smiled. "I just got back from touring with my band."

"Really? That's rad!" Now that we were talking about music, I could go on for days without stopping.

"We're leaving for Warped in a month," he told me.

"NO WAY!" I was getting excited. "Is this your first year playing?"

"Nah. We played 2008 and 2010."

"I've been to Warped every year since 2007. Maybe I've seen you. What band are you in?"

"Pierce the Veil," he answered.

"I'm pretty sure you played after Prada in '08 and before Attack Attack in 2010. I can't really say I'm a fan though... I haven't really heard much of your music."

He laughed. "I think that's slightly better than being an obsessive fangirl. At least for me."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't exactly care what you look like," -although he was attractive - "I doubt you, or anyone else in any other band, would be considered insanely attractive if they weren't famous. It doesn't matter what you look like, if you play good music, you're cool. To be honest, even if I were a huge fan of your band and I'd known who you were, I would have probably been like, 'Oh, hey, it's Mike.'" I admitted.

"I get that," he nodded. "It's pretty funny when I get proposed to, though. It happens almost every night when we're on tour. I'm pretty sure I have over 200 wives now," he laughed. "But I do think about that a lot. What if I had an extra ear growing out of my forehead?"

"I'm sure you'd be really, really sexy," I said, trying to keep a straight face.

I was a bit weirded out that I was sitting next to the drummer of Pierce the Veil, having a conversation like we'd been friends forever, smoking cigarettes together. I was still trying to get over the fact that he'd kind of rescued me from Nick, it was surprising when I hadn't known who he was.

"Maybe if I had tentacles?" He smiled.

"Maybe."