Adolescent

22.

Hell.

I was in hell.

That was the only way to describe how I felt, with the fresh cuts on my arms burning from the touch of lace gloves on damaged skin. My chest felt like it'd caved in, and I wanted nothing more than to... well, die. But I couldn't. I had to put on some façade that I was okay, even if it was complete and utter bullshit. I had to be okay. Even if my fingers itched for the razor in my wallet. Even if I wanted nothing more than to just lay in bed all day and cry and carve shapes into my skin. I needed to be okay.

I looked over at Vi, and was eternally grateful when she finally said goodbye to our uncle and headed for the door. We could finally get back to the hotel and I could finally change out of my stupid dress and we could go and see her mom or walk around Central Park or something. Anything to take my mind off of everything.

The cab ride back to the hotel was long and annoying. What - or rather, who - was at the hotel was even more annoying. All piled into the hotel room's "foyer" were Cade, Hayden, Sam, Cody, Zach, Austin, Maxx, Dan, Harry, Zayn, Liam, Niall and Louis. Great. Just great. I hated people, or had begun to. I hurried into my bedroom without as much as a nod as an acknowledgement.

I stripped off my dress and gloves, and put on some black skinny jeans and a short-sleeved black tee. I shoved my wallet and my phone into my pockets and began to put on more fashionable gloves when I heard the opposite door open. I froze. I knew exactly who'd just walked into the room.

Him.

Aaron.

Slowly, I turned and tortured myself by looking at him. God, he was breathtaking. But it physically hurt to look at him. Especially with him staring - glaring - at me with such... hate. It pierced my body, his glare. It pinned me to the wall. I couldn't meet it.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. His words felt like a slap to the face. They cut like my razor. They shattered me.

"I..." I didn't know what to say. I darted out of the room without a second thought, ducking my head down. I rushed over to Vi, tapping her on the shoulder. Sudden nervousness had taken over me, and I was shaking like a drug addict going through withdrawal. "Um, can we go? Like, now? Please?"

"Sure, where do you wanna - woah!" By then she'd pulled one of my forearms into her hands, sending searing pain stabbing its way into my arm. Shit. I didn't put the gloves on. Everything was in full view. No. This can't be happening. I ripped my arm from her grasp, pressing both of the appendages to my sides tightly.

Every eye in the room was on me, and I was getting really uncomfortable. Well, more uncomfortable. I could feel the judgement and the pity and the shock and the disapproval and the disappointment and I wanted to explode. I wanted to leave, and I wanted to do it now, and I wasn't partial to taking "no" for an answer.

Vi, please, I begged mentally. Please, I need to leave. I can't be this close to him. Not when things are like this.

As everyone stared me down, I chewed on my lip. Something out of the kitchenette window had also become very interesting.

You know what? Whatever.

I darted out of the hotel room entirely and rushed to the nearest stairwell. I ran down stair after stair, easily beating anyone who'd decided to chase me. When I'd finally made it to the bottom, I hid under the staircase, pressing myself flat against the wall there. I tried to control my breathing, solely for the purpose of not being found. Aloneness was key at that point.

Soon, I heard my name being called, and my worst fears had come true; both Vi and Sam were looking for me.

[Super short chapter, I know. Just wait for it. -A]