Yeah Boy, and Doll Face

Yeah Boy, and Doll Face I 6

Ellie stayed the night with us as she often did because I got lonely or wanted to talk.

But we didn't talk or mess around, we all went straight to bed after texting the boys what we were planning to do. Gage was being a gentlemen and letting Ellie sleep in his bed while he was on the couch and I was trying to sleep in my bed. I was staring up at the ceiling where I had glued little glow in the dark stars and painted the lyrics: "I hope you like the stars I stole for you."

I couldn't. I kept thinking. I really hate my brain sometimes. Why would anyone want you to come back again? Nobody likes you. You're just a weirdo that talks like a freak. Vic should save himself before you get too attached and never leave. I felt like there was another half of me--an evil twin if you will--that hates the good half, which was the runt of my body. But seriously. Vic could invite any frickin people in this world. Why in the hell would he pick you. You do nothing. You don't talk. You don't sing. All you do is draw. And not anyone gives a shit.

And then the nicer side of my brain started in. You should ask him. And don't listen to what she says. You're fine the way you are. And I know how to fix your speech...

I tossed onto my side. Puh-lease! How the hell can anyone or anything fix you? Your trash. You don't talk to anyone so no one likes you. I feel sorry for your brother. He has to care for you. Don't bug that perfect boy with your idiocy.

Just do it. Vic obviously liked you enough to want you and the others to come back to a concert so you can hang out together. Ask him.

"Ask him what?" I said out loud.

Ask him why he wants you guys to come back and if you're a bother.

"But it's," I checked my alarm clock, "2 in the morning. he won't be up." 

Nike.

"W-what?"

JUST DO IT!

"No. He doesn't even know me that well. I just met him yesterday. Just leave me alone!" I pulled my blankets over my head.

"Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Please just stay away." I mumbled, hoping the chant would work like witchcraft.

I fell asleep.

++

Tapping on my shoulder. I rolled over onto my other side and swatted away at the hands that grabbed at my shoulders.

"Come on Remy. We're going to the concert today and don't you want to check up on the shop before we go." It was Ellie. She was talking about my tattoo shop. I popped up, rolled clumsily out of bed, and trudged to the bathroom to shower. In some ways, she was the mother I never had, making sure I did what I needed to do.

I was dressed in a grey House of the Wolves Falling in Reverse tank top, my black skinnies, grey vans, bracelets going a little bit past my wrist, a small thin loop in my nose, and my small tattoo on the inside of my left arm.

I rubbed my eyes, walking into the kitchen where Gage was at the stove cooking something in a pan.

"Morning sleeping beauty." Gage didn't turn around, but he did glance at me. "Are you hungry?"

I shook my head. "I-I'm good th-thanks."

He was wearing a white tee, with skinny jeans and purple vans. "Are you sure? You haven't eat since yesterday."

"When d-do I ever eat b-breakfast?" I rolled my eyes and sat on the counter next to him.

"Fine, be that way. But don't be that way when we go and see Pierce the Veil again."

"W-when am I ever m-mean?"

"Well--" Gage began but I cut him off.

"Excuse you? But I am never mean, you butthole." I teased. He rolled his eyes.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?"

"Yes n-now shut u-up." I turned away and plopped down on the nice sofa, flicking on the TV with the remote. It was one of my favorite shows: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

I loved the turtles. Especially Michael Angelo. He was so funny. I was captivated by the show, never turning away from the glowing screen, until someone ruined it.

It was Gage, obviously. He was standing in front of the TV' holding something in his hand. He looked angry and concerned.

"Scarlett Tanner. We need to talk. Now." He pointed to the front door with his free hand that wasn't holding the object. I felt like I was in trouble. He used my first name.

"Can this wait? I'm in the middle of watching--"

"No." He cut me off. "Outside. Now."

I sighed and got up from my comfortable position. Just then, Ellie walked in. When she noticed Gage's face she asked, "What's going on?"

Gage ignored her still pointing to the door. I gave her a hopeless shrug to show that I was okay.

I walked out the door, with Gage on my heals, slamming the door behind us. He grabbed my wrist, and tore off all of my bracelets. I winced, biting my lip so I wouldn't cry out.

Gage looked at the angry red scars going up and down my arms in little patterns. Swirls, crosshatches, names, anything really. He made a choking sound, and fingered a newer angrier scar carefully. I grimaced slightly.

After quite a few years of cutting and not finding out, I'm surprised did. But how?

"Guess what I found in the bathroom on the floor." His voice was hard and I felt scared.

I shook my head, already knowing the answer.

Gage thrust out his hand, and in it, was my small, blood crusted razor.

"Why?" His voice had softened to a whisper. "Your life is good. You have family that loves you. Friends that love you."

Actually, one friend. One family member. And I'm not always positive that they love me. 

"Why? Please Remy, I want to help you." He let my hand fall.

I didn't answer. I didn't want to. That and there were too many fucking reasons.

I didn't look at him, but I glared at the small piece of metal in his hand. I heard a sigh from him and looked up.

"I know you're probably not going to tell me. But please, Remy, I'm begging you, don't cut again." He closed his hand around the razor and threw it as far as he could, the light of the sun gleamed off of it until it disappeared.

I nodded. "I-I'm sorry G-Gage." I tried my best to look ashamed.

That was fine. I had another one hidden in my room.

"Promise me." He held out his pinky finger.

I wrapped mine around his. "I-I p-promise."

He looked satisfied and went back inside. I sat down on the ground, leaning back on the closed door. I slowly put my bracelets back on.

What he didn't realize, was that I had my fingers crossed.