What Can I Do? (renee rapp x reader)

Re(neé)conciliation (Part Seven)

The Present Day (March, 2023)

Reneé's POV

I'm sitting in my bed watching Dickinson –sue me if I want to see my beautiful ex be gay on TV– when I get a call. I had been in kind of a bad mood because of how abruptly Alissa had left. I didn't want to think about it, think about how the ball of anxiety had started burning through my body. It felt like my own stomach acid was eating me alive, slowly digesting itself and biting the extremities of my flesh on the inside. Part of me knew that I had to break up with Alissa. That if there was ever something between us, it was gone now. They didn't even know me. But at the same time, they made me feel good sometimes, even if it was in the short term. And at least...at least I wasn't alone.

I had always been in relationships. One after the other, usually long term, with men I realize I didn't ever truly like. But at least they had guaranteed some kind of safety, some kind of barrier to admit something –even if they were part of it– that was so deeply ingrained into my subconsciousness; this overwhelming sense of loneliness. I had –and have– friends, don't get me wrong, it just took such a long time to find some that were worth the while, who I had valuable friendships, friendships that were worth something, that were more than just superficial. Y/N was my first taste of that. In that year that me and her dated was the most complete I had ever felt. And after we broke up, I couldn't help but turn to just about any man who would make me feel, even for a moment, like I was less alone. Eventually I matured. I came out, finally accepting myself, and learned to surround myself with good people, good friends. But that craving to not want to be alone was still there.

I couldn't leave Alissa. No because if I left them and a certain someone did not in fact want me back then I would be alone.

Again.

Like I was all those years ago.

When I feel my phone start to vibrate in my jean pocket I put my mug down and look at the contact name. 'Y/N L/N'. How impersonal. I think. Her contact name used to be 'my girl'. But I guess I no longer have that right. Impersonal was all we had at the moment. For the split second that the call takes to connect I worry. Had I made the wrong call letting her leave? Should I have insisted on staying? Was she in danger?

"Y/N?" I croaked, my voice sounding more hoarse than I had intended it to.

"Nope." A higher voice says from the other end of the line which makes my eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Jenna Ortega. Nice to meet you." What the fuck? "Look Y/N's in the hospital-"

"Oh my god, is she okay?" I interrupt, suddenly standing up from my couch. "I saw her this morning throwing up and-"

"Wait." The voice on the other end commands. "You saw her throwing up like the fucking Exorcist and thought 'oh gee well that's totally fucking normal let me just leave her there'?"

"It wasn't like that!" I protested, starting to pace around my apartment. "She stood up and left after vomiting twice. She said she was fine!"

"Reneé!" Jenna hisses into the phone and I can hear her face palm. "We both know that Y/N always says she's fine even if she was shot fourteen times by a revolver!" Oddly specific but true.

"It's not like she wanted to see me at the moment." I mutter and I hear her sigh on the other end. "She threw up on my lover."

"I'm going to kill you." She whispers under her breath and I sigh. I deserve that. "Welp, you're like the only other person who Y/N knows well in LA so I'll guess you make do."

"What?" I ask beyond confused.

"Look Y/N needs surgery."

"What?!?"

"Chill your tits, it's just appendicitis. I need you to come to MLK Jr hospital right now. It's the closest hospital to your Mean Girls set and I can send you the location right now. I have to go to New York for a few days to film part of my new movie. I tried to get out of it but I'm binded my contract so I need you to take care of her after surgery. You know, wash her, walk her, make sure she's okay." She rambles and my blood runs cold.

"I don't- she doesn't want me there." I can't be there. I can't possibly take care of her. Not after I embarrassed myself in front of her. I entertained the thought of getting back together to the point of flirting with her, talking to her all the time just so she could meet my lover and realize just how much of a pathetic coward I really am. Just how much of a coward I was that night that I was too scared to talk things out and so lost the best thing that has ever happened to me. Just how much of a coward I was not having reached out to her during those years, years of pining, only really talking to her when we were forced to interact. Just how much of a coward I am right now, not telling her how I feel and instead confusing her because of the probability I could be alone again.

"Look, she trusts you. Probably more than almost everyone. So I trust you, even though you're a dick who led her on."

I pause and grip my hair for a moment. Maybe I had been a coward before and maybe I was still a coward now but at least that was at my own expense. But if I didn't go, if I didn't help her, that would be at her expense. I could not bear the idea of that. Of letting her hurt without trying to do anything about it.

"She needs you." Jenna whispers and I immediately grab my coat.

Maybe I was a coward, but at least I was a coward in love.

"I'll get there in five."

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A/N: YOUR COMMENTS MOTIVATE ME SO MUCH I SWEAR

from you guys noticing little details, to the jokes, to complimenting  my writing, UGH MY HEART. I swear y'all make me write faster. Anyways here's another part girly pops.