Things Can't Be Bad When You're Famous... Right?

Andy's POV

I gently move Ronnie's arm off from around my aching waist, trying desperately not to wake him. When I could finally get to my feet, I searched his face for any sign of conciousness. Finding none, I creep towards the door. I need to check downstairs, a beating this morning would most likely leave me more dead than I am. As well as that, it's Friday. I'm not sure who's house we're to be at but being unable to walk and covered in blood with an angry as hell Ronnie would make the guys suspicious and I don't need more people finding out.

I creep down the stairs, stepping on only the places where they don't creak. Once in the foyer, I flip on the light and examine the floor for any sign of blood or makeup that may set Ronnie off. I breathe out a sigh of relief and slip into the kitchen to begin cooking Ronne's breakfast. I might as well try to get on his good side today.

The smell of bacon and eggs fills the house and in no time, Ronnie is stumbling into the kitchen while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Without one word directed towards me he yanks the steaming plate of food from the counter ad plops down the couch. The TV flickers on, Ronnie probably won't bug me for a while.

"Good morning, Ronnie." I say cautiously. Who knows, he might want me to greet him.

"Morning, And." I bite my lip at the pet name, he hasn't called me that since the abuse started, now only the guys do. I don't like hearing it coming from his hateful mouth. "C'mere babe." What? I start to take a step towards the living room only to hesitate, panic rising in my throat. What if he's gonna hurt me? What if he's gonna tell me how worthless I am? I swallow my doubts, if I keep him waiting it'll be worse. I limp over to him and let him pull me onto the couch and into his side. I hold in a cry of pain as his fingers brush over a bruise from last night.

"Look at me." He commands. I meet his eyes. "You look so ugly with bruises all over your face." The observation stings. Youre the one who put them there. I look away, biting back tears. Ronnie chuckles and his arms tighten, I let out a small whimper.

"CC and Jake's tonight?" I nod my head, that must be where we're going. Ronnie's quiet for a moment before making another stupid observation. "You never talk anymore, Andy. You're getting boring." Maybe I would talk to you if I didn't hate you. "Instead of boring me half to death, go do something useful with yourself." He shoves me roughly off the couch and onto the ground. I cry out, earning myself a glare. I get to my feet quickly before limping up the stairs.

Time Lapse - 8 hours

I push the door into our house open and look around, good, no Ronnie. I slide in, arms full of bags of groceries. I set them on the counter and start unloading them, putting the food away. Heavy footsteps clamber down the stairs. My heart starts to beat and my hands start to shake almost causing the box of insta-rice I'm holding to drop to the floor but I catch it before a mess is made.

"You home Anday?" Ronnie slurs. Is he drunk? Oh God, please don't be drunk. I look over to the living room to see four empty beer bottles sitting atop the coffee table and another two on the floor. Shit.

"Y-yeah." I mumble hurriedly putting away the rest of the goods. I feel a hand move to the side of my face and another one grab my hip. I let myself be turned around and let a pair of lips crash against my own. I kiss back instinctively, not wanting to suffer the consequences of rejecting him. I gasp into Ronnie's mouth when I am pushed back against the wall, sharp pain ricocheting through my back. I hear him growl slightly as he presses against me harder. His tongue forces my lips apart then explores my mouth, I hold back puke. When Ronnie's drunk, he's really affectionate it until he gets the slightest bit angry, then he'll be mercilous. I let him kiss me until we're both breathless, lust evident in his half-lidded eyes. He starts to pull me towards the stairs when my phone goes off. I pull it from my pocket and peer down at the screen.

Movie Night in 5 mins.

It must be 6:25.

"Ronnie we have to go to movie night." I say through my panting.

"Fine, go cover your face wif makeup or whatever." He mumbles while stumbling over to the couch and practically falling on top of it. I walk up the stairs slowly and careful as thought not to cause myself more pain than necessary. I slip into the bathroom and start to blot foundation and concealer onto my bruised face in large clumps. Finally, when all of the purplish skin is covered, I decide the pay some attention to my swollen eye. How the fuck do I hide this? I mull over different ideas and possibilities of hiding the damn thing before I give up. If anyone asks, I'll say a fan accidentally hit me at the concert. I walk back downstairs.

Ronnie goes to grab his keys off the counter as panic rises in my throat, nearly choking me. He is not driving when he's drunk off his ass.

"Ronnie... I don't think you driving is the best idea..." I speak as calmly and nicely as possible, hoping I don't get him specifically angry. No luck. His eyes narrow, nothing but pure anger and hatred reflect in his eyes.

"You know what bitch? I can drive I what ever fucking state I'm in. Are you saying you doubt my driving?"

"N-no Ronnie, I just d-don't want you getting h-hurt." I stammer, backing up and he approaches. One reaches out one hand and wraps his long fingers around my upper arm. He yanks me close, holding my arm out before gripping one of his eyes tightly in his hand.

"Looks like I need to teach you another fuckin' lesson." He slurs before pressing the sharpest edge of the key into my flesh. I whimper and squirm in this clutches. The key doesn't break my skin at first with makes him only push it down harder and harder until the area around the key starts to bruise. I bite my lip to keep from crying out as his 'hard work' pays of and the cold metal of the key bites into me and a few crimson beads of blood bubble up and finally trickle down my arm.

Ronnie pulls away, satisfied. I sickening smirk poisons the lips I used to adore. Lips that used to comfort me with light kisses and kind words but now curl into malicious prideful smiles at the sight if my agony.

The anger slides back onto his face, "Go get in the goddamn car before I cut you again, got it?" He seems to have sobered up a bit, at least. I bow my head and follow his orders.

I don't know how much longer I can stand this. I just want to die. No one would have to waste their time worrying about me any more. Sure they'd be sad but they wouldn't remember me very long. Maybe I'd be better off dead. Thoughts swirl around my mind as Ronnie drives sort of recklessly to CC and Jakes house (yes, they moved in together.) I don't need my brain to switch into self destruct mode right now. I close my eyes and mentally prepare myself for the facade I mercilessly carry out to protect myself from the only people who really give a shit anymore. Great.