The blinding lights flashed at me, momentarily blocking my vision as I push my way past them. Loud music slipped in and out of my ear canal alongside the lyrics being screamed by a crowd of drunken celebrities, each face visibly recognizable. I didn...
There she laid, in my arms, barely looking up at me. Her once so blue eyes were now clouded and brimmed with tears, the color nearly drained out. Her skin was turning paler as she opened her mouth to try to speak, but couldn't. A drop of blood drips from her nose onto her lip, cascading a dark red smear that doesn't belong there.
"Please, please." I begin to mutter under my breathe as I brush her blonde hair back. A small smile appears on her face as her hand weakly reaches up and lands on my cheek. It was still the softest thing I've ever felt even though it was drenched in blood.
My free hand pressed against the bullet wound in hopes, it would somehow save her but deep inside I knew it wouldn't matter. She was slowly leaving me behind in this cruel world. I start shaking my head as her eyes loose more life.
"Pete! We have to fucking get out of here. Right now." A voice yells but all it does is go over my head.
This wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't part of the plan. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. We were supposed to get away to Paris.
Two pair of arms lift me off the ground causing the body that was still breathing to drop onto the ground. She was still alive, there was still a chance. But I was too late, too late with everything.
The shrilling sirens started to get closer as Fez and Timothée desperately push me to the alleyway, where the backup car was parked. They push me inside, but God if I could do anything to do anything to go back in and just sit there with her.
"Where's Luna?" Abby asks in the front, turning towards us from the passenger seat. Timothée sat in the drivers seat, though protested by Lola but she had lost that one.
I say nothing. It was supposed to be her seating next to me not Fez. It was going to be the two of us in Paris, but now it's only me.
"Fuck!" My foot hits against the clothed seat causing Abby to jump in her seat from the sudden impact. The golden band glistened on my ring finger just reminding me even more what I had lost in the span of ten minutes. All of that, over a dead man.
"She didn't- um. Yeah." Fez mumbles from next to me, giving me a concerned look carefully watching my moves.
The air in the moving vehicle grows tense, especially considering how Timothée had a heavy foot and was speeding and swerving through cars with tears on his face falling down.
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We were supposed to go to Paris, the two of us, the only place she ever wanted to go to. We were going to a start new life there, she would re-start her tattoo career. A new start. A possible new family would grow. But now there'll never a growth in family, or a new start. Just a haunting ghost lingering over me wherever I go.
