The Make-Up Artist: Part 2

Chapter Thirty Two: Welcome Home

This can't be happening. This has to be a dream. You must still be on the airplane asleep and this is just some horrible horrible nightmare. It just can't be true. He can't be here in your apartment. Surely, you will turn around and then wake up from this cruel joke of a dream. You drop your hands to your side and turn around slowly, waiting to wake up, praying you'll wake up. Once you've made a complete 360 turn, you raise your eyes from the floor to see Ethan's cold and calculating eyes staring back at you.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What is he doing here? And how? Your mind races back to a few nights ago when you and Taron found your door open. Had he been there then? And again, how? You know you have to remain calm. You must remain calm and not show an ounce of the terror that is flooding every pore of your being.

"Ethan?" You croak and close your eyes against the fear you hear in your voice. Focus. Just focus. Find out what he wants, then figure out how to get rid of him. A slow smile stretches across his face and it reminds you of the Cheshire Cat, and not in the fun and whimsical way. His stance is that of a predatory animal, seething and stealthy, waiting for the right moment to make his move.

"Hello there. Miss me?" He asks in that devious way of his.

"How...How did you get in here?" You ask a bit defiantly. That's better.

"Oh, I have my ways", he answers and you feel your brows furrow in confusion. "It's not like you have the greatest locks. This place is kind of a dump", he adds and you are slightly insulted, even as you know that's the last thing you should be feeling at this particular moment.

"But why? Why are you here?" He contemplates you for a second, then finally leaves his place at the door and walks over to the kitchen table. Pulling out a chair, he sits lazily down onto it, as if he's an old friend just coming by for a visit. You however remain rooted to your spot next to the bed.

"Well, I came by a few nights ago, but you weren't here. Where have you been anyway? Off with the British bloke? I thought that would've ended a long time ago." You will not give him the satisfaction of speaking with him about Taron, so you ignore his question and ask him again.

"Ethan, why are you here?"

"I came to talk to you of course."

"Why?" He regards you suspiciously, as if this should be obvious.

"I want you to get me my job back", he states matter-of-factly and you have to stop yourself from sniggering.

"Excuse me? Why would I do that, and how?" You know you are treading on dangerous territory here, but to think he would have the gall to break into your apartment just to ask you to get his job back? It's absurd.

"Well, considering you're the reason I had to leave in the first place, I don't think it's an unusual request."

"Yeah, because you attacked me", you say firmly and then regret it instantly as he stands abruptly from the chair. Gulping down the lump in your throat, you eye him cautiously as he saunters slowly to you. Stopping a couple of feet in front of you, he sighs, looks down at the floor and then raises his eyes back to you.

"Oh come on MUG. You know that was just a misunderstanding."

"Was it?" You reply vehemently.

"Yes. You know that I was just messing around and if your Brit boyfriend hadn't shown up when he did, you would've realized that."

"You were not just messing around and you know it", you say through gritted teeth and feel your face go warm.  "I was begging for you to stop and you weren't listening to me at all." The memory of his alcohol reeked breath as his mouth touched your skin makes a cold chill run through your body and you visibly shutter.