Dangerous

When she woke up the next morning, Shannon was still sleeping soundly beside her, his arm still draped over her shoulders. She lay there for a long while, just taking him in. Despite whatever he'd gotten into the night before, he still smelled amazing. She watched his chest rise and fall and pictured herself planting sweet little kisses down it to wake him up. She almost had to physically restrain herself to make sure that didn't accidentally happen.

Her phone began vibrating on the nightstand beside her a few moments later, breaking her out of her trance. As gently as she could, she moved Shannon's arm and wiggled out of the bed. Jared's name flashed on her screen as she got to it, and she knew he was about to chew her out for never calling him and letting him know they were okay the night before.

"Jay," she answered the phone, stepping out onto the hotel room balcony.

"So you are alive. Good to know," he said, but she could tell from his tone that he wasn't really that mad.

"Yeah."

"And Shan?"

"He's fine. Sleeping. He got into something last night. He didn't tell me what he did, but it wasn't just drinking."

"Management is going to send him to fucking rehab if he keeps this shit up."

"I know. I keep reminding him and he just doesn't care."

"He needs to care."

"Obviously. But he's shown us time and time again that he only cares if he wants to. Doesn't give a shit if we want him to."

"Thanks for keeping him safe."

"Always."

"Love you, Elle."

"Love you too, Jay."

She hung up the phone and turned around to see that Shannon had come up behind her. She could tell from his face that he'd been listening to most of the conversation. He was mad. She wasn't sure why.

"I can take care of myself," he said, not at all trying to hide how he felt. "I don't need you to fucking babysit me."

"That's not what it looks like from where I'm standing, Shan," she said, and could see even more anger rising to his eyes.

"Fuck you, Elle. You and Jared both walk around here acting like you're fucking saints when you're both just as shitty as me, especially you. You forget how well I know you and what you've done," he said, his words daggers that were stabbing straight into her heart. She was mad now, too. He was lucky that she didn't have anything she could throw at him.

"Fuck you right back, you fucking prick. All anyone is trying to do is make sure you don't end up dead in a gutter somewhere, because that's where you're fucking heading. I don't get why you just don't fucking care that you're hurting everyone around you," she spit back at him, knowing that she was probably getting too worked up too fast, but she couldn't stop thinking about the things he'd said the night before. She knew it was just because he'd been drunk and high on whatever, but that was the first time he'd said anything like that. Usually he just stuck to basic come-ons, trying to get her into bed just because she was female and she was there. But the night before had been different somehow; a different look in his eye, different conviction behind his words. She had to wonder if deep down inside him somewhere he actually felt that way. He'd told her he wanted to fucking marry her, after all. That wasn't just something you said to get someone into bed. That was something you said because you meant it. Shannon could be a total piece of shit sometimes, but never bad enough to say something that big if it wasn't true.

"I don't know what the fuck you want me to say, Elle. You follow me around like I'm a little kid, waiting for me to slip up. Do you understand how fucked up that is? You're supposed to be my friend. You're supposed to trust me," he said, her anger seemingly calming him just a little bit.

"I'd trust you if you gave me a reason to," she said, and could instantly see how much the words hurt him.

"Get the fuck out, Elle. Get out!" he roared, and she took an instinctive step back.

"Shan," she said quietly, reaching for him.

"Out, Eleanor. Don't come back," he said steadily, pointing toward the door and pushing her hand away. "Leave me the fuck alone," he said it quietly, but she could tell that he wished he'd screamed it.

She gave a short nod and turned to the door. Without looking back, she exited the hotel room. Outside the door, she leaned against it and let herself cry for just a moment before leaving the hotel completely. She didn't want to go back to her room and didn't think she'd be able to face Jared right then.

She didn't know where she was going, but as she stepped out into the sunshine on the street, she knew she had to get away; away from the Letos, away from life. She walked until she found a bar and stepped inside. She was surprised that they were open so early, but they were. She didn't think twice as she started to drink. A guy that she'd normally never give a second look to came and sat beside her, and she let him. He bought her drinks, they talked. She wasn't into him, but the drunker she got, the more she thought she might be.

He wanted her to come back to his place. Her brain was fuzzy. She knew she should say no. Normally she would've. But she didn't. They got a cab and when they got to his apartment and he shut the door behind them, it became instantly apparent to her that he wanted sex. For whatever reason, the thought that that's what he probably wanted hadn't even crossed her mind. She said no. He persisted. They fought, and it ended with her punching him in the face and him punching her right back before finally letting her leave.

Blood gushed from her nose as she ran out of his apartment building as fast as she could. When she was far enough away that she felt safe, she stopped and leaned against a storefront. She pulled out her phone and saw that it was 5pm already. She felt around her pants and jacket pockets and realized that she didn't even have her wallet with her.

"Fuck," she murmured, pinching the bridge of her nose to try to stop the bleeding. She had no idea where she was. They were in a city on tour that she'd only been to once before, and only for a day. Looking down at herself, she realized that she was absolutely covered in blood. People passing must've thought she was insane. She was surprised no one had called the police yet.

"Fuck," she repeated, glancing again at her phone. She couldn't call Jared. He'd be so disappointed in her, and her officially drunk brain couldn't handle it. Her finger hovered above Shannon's name. She was about to press it, but decided against it. She didn't even know where she was, or if he'd even bother coming. Instead of calling him, she ducked into a nearby coffee shop's bathroom. She turned her shirt inside out and dumped her jacket into the trash, trying to make herself look presentable. Her nose had finally stopped bleeding, but her face was stained with the blood and her nose was comically swollen. Her left eye was rimmed heavily in purplish bruising, and her makeup from the night before was running down to her neck.

Shrugging, she exited the bathroom and started walking down the street. She still had no idea in the world where she was going, but it had to be better than calling Shannon and admitting that he was right about her, even though deep down she knew it. She was just as bad, if not worse than him, but she cared way too much about him and way too little about herself to notice it.