Three Means 1

Bloody but Sweet

    "I thought you'd be on stage throughout their whole performances," Dulce ventured, trying to steer the topic away from herself.

    "Are you mad? They're going to be there for quite some time. I deserve a little break," Fleur replied dramatically before plopping herself down on a chair next to Arthur.

    Fleur's eyes were still fixated on Dulce and Pierre, prompting Dulce to speak up before she could ask about their "relationship."

    Many options and excuses raced through Dulce's mind, each a potential escape from the complicated situation she had entangled herself in. The most logical one seemed to be excusing herself to the bathroom, but she almost regretted it, fearing what might transpire if she left the three of them alone.

    "Hey, Arthur, come with me to the bathroom," she blurted out impulsively, mentally slapping herself for such a foolish idea. Why would she ask him to accompany her when, in Fleur's eyes, Pierre was her lover?

    She forced a smile, fighting the urge to close her eyes in embarrassment, and hoped for the best.

    "Sure," Arthur answered. Dulce immediately turned around and walked away before he could hold her hand. She didn't want to look at Fleur, didn't want to see the expression on her face.

    Had she finally been discovered? Would drunk Pierre spill everything to Fleur once they were gone?

Stupid.
Stupid.
Stupid.

    As soon as they entered the ladies' bathroom, Dulce pulled Arthur into one of the stalls, locking the door behind them. She leaned against it, peering through the annoying large crack.

    After a moment, she felt his hand on her shoulder and closed her eyes, taking in the shame.

    "Isn't it crazy how bathroom stalls have cracks? Why would I want someone to look at me while I do my business?" Arthur's French accent made the comment sound funnier, and the sad tears welling up in Dulce's eyes turned into tears of laughter.

    Grabbing her hand, he turned her around to face him, her back against the door. He looked into her eyes, a smile on his lips despite the confusion.

    She appreciated that: no questions, no guilt.

    "I like that sound," he said.

    She looked at him, puzzled, but her eyes drifted to his lips.

    "Your laugh. I barely hear it. I'd do anything to hear it again."

    "Then kiss me."

    Dulce wasn't sure why she blurted those three words out. Perhaps it was desperation to not feel embarrassed, perhaps to alleviate her guilt about Pierre, or maybe it was because Arthur's lips were already so close to hers.

    He kissed her. As their lips moved together in a slow, syncopated rhythm, both of their eyes closed. She couldn't help but feel lightheaded.

    "I don't deserve them," she thought.

He was the first to break the kiss when he sensed her lack of enthusiasm. Dulce kept her eyes closed, bracing herself for harsh words. She only opened them when she realized none were coming. Instead, Arthur placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

    "I think we should head back; they're probably wondering where we are."

    On their way back, they didn't speak a word. The silence was not awkward but rather comforting. She kept wondering why he was being so nice to her, so understanding, especially when he didn't know what was going on. Was that the reason? Would he turn into a different person the second he realized? Was he capable of hurting her?

    "Finally."

    Dulce squinted her eyes, adjusting to the dim view that was only slightly visible thanks to the red illumination. Leaning against the wall of the hallway outside the bathrooms was Pierre, a drink in hand.

    "He's gone," Arthur said, acknowledging how drunk Pierre looked and sounded. "Come on, buddy, let's get yo—"

    "Imbécile aveugle," Pierre blurted out, barely able to articulate. The words cut Arthur off, and he took three steps back as Pierre's fists flew towards him.

(Translation: blind fool)

    Dulce gasped loudly and ran towards Pierre. She immediately tried to grab both of his fists but received one on her chest instead. The impact made her stumble, and once on the ground, she felt a burning pain in her coccyx that was worse than the one on her chest.

    "Fuck! Look at what you made me do, you bastard!" Pierre yelled, his voice so loud the music couldn't muffle it.

    Arthur ignored him and knelt to inspect Dulce, but once again, Pierre interrupted. He grabbed the neck of Arthur's shirt, lifting him so that they were eye level, before swinging a fist at his cheekbone; this time, he connected.

Dulce tried to get up but the pain was unbearable.

    "Don't touch him, you freak!" she shouted. She regretted the harsh words as soon as they left her mouth, but her expression remained angry. The words stopped Pierre from throwing a second punch. Instead, he froze.

    It took a moment for them to react, but Arthur was the first to do so.

    "What the fuck has gotten into you, Pierre?" He placed both hands on Pierre's chest, pushing him off, before kneeling in front of Dulce. Caressing her cheeks, he inspected her lips, ensuring they weren't bruised, and then trailed his eyes down to her neck.

    "You called me a what?" Pierre asked, his voice now low and even scarier. Dulce looked up at him, who was now hovering over the two of them.

    "I didn't mean it," she responded, doing her best to look him in the eyes—eyes that were hardened with no sign of sweetness or understanding.

"Get the fuck off her."Pierre said, this time placing a foot on Arthur's back, pushing him down against the floor.

    Dulce looked to the side, seeing Arthur's face land on the carpet, and her eyes widened in fear. She yelled as hands wrapped around her waist and her whole body lifted off the ground. Before she knew it, she was upside down over Pierre's shoulder.

    "Ouch, ouch, Pierre, you're hurting me!" Dulce yelled, kicking her feet against him, as the music grew fainter with Pierre's long strides out of the room.

    Instead of receiving any sympathy, she felt a hard smack on one of her asscheeks, making her jump in surprise.

    "Shut the fuck up. I'm done being your fucking toy."