Hollywood's Bleeding - Post Malone

Opening Act

Ophelia wakes up alone and the house is quiet. Her heart sinks. She had hoped to see Austin this morning but of course he had left, last night was a lot to handle and for a man like Austin it was unfair of Ophelia to put that on him even when he said he had wanted to stay. Guilt creeps up on her though, she had been through her other miscarriages alone but not this last one and she can't bring herself to regret having Austin there. But it seems he is gone now and she lies in silence, tucked under the blanket in the warmth of the soft bed. What does she do not? She hears the bedroom door open then Austin walks in. He is still here. She sits up and watches as he walks over to her with one hand behind his back and a smirk on his face. When he gets to her bedside he presents her that a huge bunch of roses. Roses from her garden. She lets out a gasp, but her shock is not from the roses - she appreciates the sentiment, but her gasp is from the millions of dark red scratches all up his arms and on his hands. It looks like he got into a fight with a clowder of cats. "Oh thank you for the roses but are you ok?" she asks reaching for the roses. Their stems are all different lengths and the rose heads look a little worse for wear with the occasional petal falling off as they droop a little. He has also wrapped the stems in a blood-splattered dish towel.

Austin puts his arms out and inspects them then looks at Ophelia. "Honestly, I am not ok. Those bitches have thorns, fucking vile vicious nasty bitch ass thorns. They cut me up and look," he holds out the palms of his hands for Ophelia to inspect, "some are buried under my skin. They burn like a mother fucker too," he says. Not happy at all. Ophelia can't hide her smile any longer and her lips spread wide. Austin is a sweet man no matter how you look at it. She puts her roses down carefully on the bed then climbs out and guides Austin to the bathroom, sitting him down on the closed toilet. She opens her medicine cabinet and gets her tweezers, a few plasters, and some cream out. Then she gets to work at carefully removing the broken bits of thorns in his palms, putting plasters over the bigger tears, and soothing the bright red scratches with the cream. Austin sits quietly watching as she fusses over him. "You would make a good mother, baby," he says eventually. Ophelia stops her fussing and looks at him. Sadness is written all over his face. He is morning her baby? "One day," she whispers then hugs him and buries her face in the crook of his neck as he wraps his arms around her.

"Thank you for being so kind to me," she mumbles into his neck. "Ain't no thing, baby," he says nonchalantly. Ophelia pulls back and looks at him, searching his face. "Austin, I asked for flowers fully expecting you to order them from a florist. But you chose to wander down to the bottom of my garden and climb into a rose bush. You did that for me. That is a thing. That is a big thing and those are the best roses I have ever gotten...and last night...well, I just don't have the words," she says. She can't believe how humble he is. He is nothing like the media says. Even if he has gotten himself into trouble - Ophelia will have his back, fearsly so. She leans forward and kisses him then pulls back. "I want more. I want more than just kissing," she says, she needs to say it before she loses her nerve. "Ok," Austin says with a shrug and slips his hands under her shirt, cupping her breasts then he leans in and kisses her again. Ophelia can feel her eyes roll back at the touch of his soft kneading on her breasts and her breathing labors. But she wants more. She pulls back and Austin looks at her like a boy who lost his candy. His hands are still on her breasts though. 

"This is nice."

"Yes, this is nice, baby. You have lovely tits."

"Breasts."

"You have lovely breasts, baby. I like them. "

"Thank you. But I want more than this," Ophelia says tapping his hands that are still on her breasts. "What? More as in fucking?" Austin asks raising one of his eyebrows. "Making love and yes," Ophelia confirms. "Making love?" he asks, screwing up his face. "Yes, it's like the f-word but softer, sweeter, more meaningful," Ophelia says. "That shit sounds boring. That's for old people or clingy bitches," he says. Ophelia can feel her face go red. Austin is out of her league, he has probably had threesomes and orgies. He probably goes to strip clubs and sex clubs. She bets he has even invented some sex positions. - he looks like the type. The type mothers warn their daughters to stay away from. Meanwhile, Ophelia was stuck on her back while Jim did his thing on top of her. She does not think she would even have the courage to do one thing Austin would expect of her in the bedroom. "Besides, are you ok to fuck?" he asks. Ophelia lets out a laugh and buries her face in her hands. He is so brash with his words, he never sugarcoats anything. His hands are still on her breasts too. "I mean after last night. I don't know how this shit works," he says pointing to between her thighs with his elbow as if his hands are glued to her breasts. She lifts her head and looks at him. "It was just like a heavy period, Austin. But I don't want to make love right now...I just wanted you to know that it's on the table. Maybe you could teach me some stuff. Jim has been my only sexual partner," she explains. "Well that's fucking depressing," Austin says. Ophelia nods and lets her head drop. Of course, Austin would not be interested in her offer - why settle for boring vanilla when you have tasted all the colors of the rainbow?