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So if you need to be mean, be mean to me, I can take it and put it inside of me, if your hands need to break more thank trinkets in your room—I don't smoke, Mitski
"Hi, I'm Ren".
I stared blankly at the Frankenstein-like creation leaning against the front door; ocean blue eyes, bleached blonde hair a ghostly platinum with inky black tips, an assortment of metal sticking out fashionably from his body, lips, septum, eyebrow, and... My eyes trailed lower, past his face, past the cropped metal tee that read Psychonaut 4, and pervertedly stopped themselves at the space just above his leather pants and bullet belt. A succubus tattoo? "Nice to meet you". He held his hand out, sticking to formalities despite his rugged appearance. I stared at his forearm which was covered in scars that matched my wrist. "I'm Mori nice to meet you" I firmly shook his hand.
"She's m-my girlfriend" Adonis announced proudly from behind him. I flinched. Adonis waltzed in like he owned the place, playing husband by kissing me affectionately on the cheek before continuing to the living room with a mysterious brown paper bag. Goosebumps prickled my skin. I felt dirty. Ren tilted his head to the side, studying me. I opened my mouth, hesitating on whether to ask the abrasive question that's been on the tip of my tongue ever since I opened the door. Why're you here? But I had exhausted myself with all my theories about Adonis and the snuff pictures. Nothing really mattered anymore. This stranger standing in front of me couldn't possibly be any more dangerous than the one who slept in my bed. And even if he was, it's not like I had anyone who truly cared if something terrible happened to me.
I stepped aside, letting him pass.
The door was shut, sealing whatever fate had in store.
"Wow is this your place?" Ren asked, clearly impressed by James' bland taste in modernism with numerous shades of black, gray, and white. "It's" I paused, conflicted with the title that I had too quickly bestowed upon James. "It's my father's" I finished robotically. He nodded, "It's nice". I didn't respond, silently following him into the living room where Adonis was lounging on the couch with the mysterious brown bag. Ren made himself at home, casually slipping into the empty couch adjacent to Adonis. I knew he expected me by his side but I couldn't bring myself to join them.
"Baby, wh-what's wrong?" Adonis asked, attempting to sound smooth and adult, but instead, it came off whiny and desperate. "My food. You went out and brought a stranger back but not my food". He blinked, taken aback by my supposed unwarranted aggression. Oh, but it was warranted. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get between you and the missus" Ren joked awkwardly, attempting to ease the tension. Missus? Hardly that. I wanted to roll my eyes. "I-I'm s-s-sorry we're just old friends and I wanted to—-". "Old friends...." I echoed, my eyes darting back and forth between the two. What constituted as old? Adonis was only seventeen and Ren appeared to be well into his twenties.
"Is he one of your art friends?" I questioned, although Ren didn't seem to be the type. They shared a look, something inside and nervous. He was lying. Of course, he was. Everyone around me was a liar. But could I blame them? I was in no position to be holier than thou, after all, you are the company you keep. I rocked on my heels, waiting for one of them to confirm my excuse. It was so easy. Please, please, please. Just lie to me. I needed him to lie, to prove that there was at least some part of him that cared enough to protect me from the ugly truth.
