This City Is as Cold as Your Heart

A hideous yellow ceiling greeted me when I woke up. Who would paint their walls such a color? My next question, where the hell am I? I sat up quickly, not recognizing my surroundings. I’ve never seen this hideous wall before in my life. I must have been kidnapped; my heart stops at the thought. My eyes venture over to a small kitchen to the left of the couch I’m laying on where I hear someone speaking.

“She’s still passed out. I don’t know what the hell to do with her besides wait until she wakes up and can give me her address.”

Silence.

“I don’t fucking know! She’s like twelve or something.”

…

“I’m hanging up on you. Bye.”

I laid back down and snapped my eyes shut, pretending to still be sleeping, as my ‘kidnapper’ entered the room. He sat down next to me on the couch and I could feel his stare.

“Wake up, Kulta. You’re scaring me.”

Kulta? This is definitely not my father and no one else calls me that. Curiosity gets the best of me and I decide to brave it and turn around. When I do, I see a boy with really long, wavy hair. Earrings glisten in his ears and his eyes are a piercing green like the color of an emerald. We don’t say anything and just stare into each other’s eyes for a few minutes and it’s incredibly awkward.
I decide to break the silence and clear my throat.

“Oh. You’re up! I’m so glad, I was starting to think I had a dead girl on my couch.” He smiles brightly at me and I just want to slap it off of his face. Why did he think I was dead? Did he try to kill me? Is he really a kidnapper? Come to think of it, he kind of looks like the guy from Silence Of The Lambs. Oh my god, he’s going to make a woman suit out of me!

“Umm… yeah,” Is all I can muster up through my fear.

“We met under very unfortunate circumstances so I never got to ask your name.” I don’t think that would be the best thing to tell a creeper, so I change the subject.

I cough to clear the fear out of my voice, “Why am I here?”

“You don’t remember?” He asks, incredulously. I shake my head.

“You were attacked last night at the Mikko 2.0 concert. I’m not sure how it started, but when I found you there was this drunken blonde bitch choking you. I got her off of you but you were already passed out. Then Nikki Sixx from Motley Crue came up to us and said he was your uncle…which is really cool, by the way.” He pauses and runs his finger through his hair, “Anyways, I asked him what I should do with you and he told me to bring you home, but then he just disappeared without ever giving me the address. So I just brought you here to my house. I didn’t imagine you would be passed out for this long though. I’ve been debating whether to bring you to the hospital or not.”

“How long have I been here?” I ask, not really sure what to think.

He looks at the clock across the room, “About 24 hours now.”

“What?! There is no way!” I jump straight up off the couch, “I have to go! I had an audition today and I missed it.”

“I don’t drive so I’ll have to call a cab and then you can go home as soon as possible. Unless you have someone that can come get you,” He says, questioningly. Probably hoping to meet Nikki Sixx again, damn metal heads.

“I don’t actually,” I smirk. Ha, you get to pay for the cab fare. “The cab will work just fine.”

“Sounds good. I’ll go call now,” He disappears into the kitchen and I decide to snoop around. Hideous yellow walls, Black Sabbath posters, guitars, and various other instruments littered the room. He’s definitely a metal head and quite possibly a band douche.

He comes back into the room and sits down in the same spot, “So you never told me your name.”

“I didn’t tell you my name because I thought you were a kidnapper or something. I can’t say I’ve ever woken up on a stranger’s couch so I didn’t know what else to think.”

His smile falters, “Yeah, sorry about that. I can’t say I’ve ever had to bring a passed out chick to my house either. Both firsts for us…” I give him a friendly smile, “My name is Ville, by the way. Ville Valo to be exact.”

“Melena,” I decide to omit my last name for security reasons, “Nice to meet you, Ville.”

We do the old fashion hand shake and he speaks up again, “I guess it’s rude to ask a lady her age, but I’m gonna go for it… Melena, how old are you?”
“Nope, you go first. How old are you?” Telling him how young I am seems like a really bad idea.

“I’m eighteen. I honestly can’t tell your age. You seem younger than me, but I don’t know how much younger.” He rubs the stubble on his chin, looking deep in thought.

“Does it matter how old I am?” I question.

“Not really. I’m just curious.”

I look down at my hands as if there is something really interesting about them before speaking, “Thirteen.”

He doesn’t say anything so I look back up at him.

“I think the cab is here,” He says, getting up and grabbing his coat, “Let’s go!”

I guess I was looking at him weird so he stops, “What?”

“You’re coming with?” I ask, questioningly.

“I can’t let a thirteen year old take a cab alone at this time of night.” He smirks.

I glare at him and grab my coat that is draped over the couch, “Fuck you.” He holds the door open and I storm out.