Mocked: A Marcel Fanfic

Chapter Fifty-Three

Chapter Fifty-Three


As I trudge the rest of the way upstairs, I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as my mind reels with the conversation I just had with Mother. I just admitted to having not only feelings for Veronica, but being in love with her. I can't even wrap my mind around the thought of being in love with her. I'm not even sure I know what love really is.

I sigh and shake my head as I open my bedroom door. Whatever I'm getting into...I know she's worth it.

My room looks the same as always. The mirror, the desk, the large amount of "good literature" that Mother allows me to read, the clean floor, and mostly my empty bed.

The room is completely empty.

I frown, Veronica must have decided to go home. I wonder if this is how she felt when she came back to her room and called out for me but I wasn't there. I feel emptiness starting to fill me, reminding me that she's not beside me.

Is this love? The feeling of not wanting to be away from someone?

There's a noise to my side and I notice my window wide open, the curtains billowing softly. I walk over and glance out, seeing Veronica laying on her back a couple feet away. I walk to my closet and take out a plain shirt to wear instead of this scratchy fabric clinging to my skin. I put on the dark blue shirt, wondering when I got it, and take my slacks off to replace them with jeans. I put the vans high tops back on, not knowing if there's something bad to step on outside. I've never been on the rooftop before.

I climb out my window and walk to Veronica. Since I'm on the second floor, the roof is flat instead of angled downward. It makes it much more convenient.

Veronica turns her head to look at me as I stand over her. She gives me a small smile. "You going to stand there all night?"

I get down and sit on the roof beside her. I stare at the space beside her and decide to lay down as well. The roof is slightly uncomfortable with all the tiles, but it's still nice to lay beside Veronica.

"How was dinner?" She asks me.

"It was more like a discussion rather than actual dinner."

"Any interesting topics?"

I bite down on my lip and stare up at the night sky. This is the time when I would push my glasses up higher on my nose and make some weird awkward, nervous noise. But now, after everything, I just feel at peace.

"She bought the whole me standing up for you thing," I answer nonchalantly.

"I knew she would. You shouldn't have so much doubt in me."

"I don't doubt you."

"Then what do you do?"

"What?" I turn towards her confused. Our conversation had been so fast that I wasn't really keeping up.

"I heard you and your mom talking, Harry," Veronica says, her face still angled up at the sky.

I swallow. Oh god, she heard.

"What did you hear?" I ask, trying really hard to not start talking with my high, squeaky voice.

"Are you in love with me?" Veronica asks bluntly, turning her face towards me. My eyes widen. How can she be so comfortable with being so blunt?

I look back up at the sky and feel heat rise up my neck and into my face. The wind blows around us, a chilly breeze that does nothing to stop the flood of heat.

"You told your mom, why is it so hard to tell me?"

I cover my face with my arm, draping it over my eyes. "It's different."

"Different how? I already told you how I feel towards you."

"Yeah, and I've already heard how you feel towards Aiden," I mutter back sarcastically.

Veronica sits up beside me and gapes down at me with wide eyes and mouth. "You're an asshole!" She glares at me with those brown eyes of her.

"I was joking," I defend and sit up as well. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."

"Well you did," she snaps at me. "I told you to leave. You didn't have to stay."

"And I told you that I was going to stay and wait for you. You could have said no to him. God, or you know, give me a warning!"

"Right, because I'm going to open my bedroom door on my way and be like, 'Oh, Harry, I'm about to fuck my jerk ass boyfriend! Toodaloo! Oh and on our way out, you can totally grab some food from the fridge!'" Veronica exclaims sarcastically and waves her hands around.

I frown and look at my feet. "That's not what I mean."

"Well then what do you mean? Huh? Enlighten me. I mean it's not like I didn't save your ass from being beaten up again!"

I just sit and glare at my neighbor's house. We're back at square one: arguing and feeding each other sarcastic answers.

"I didn't mean that," I mutter and scrape my shoe against the top of the roof. "I don't know half the shit I say when I open my mouth. You frustrate me and I want to be in that same mental range that you're at. You know, hurt and not care and all that."

Veronica laughs bitterly. "You think I like the way I am?"

"You have to, don't you?"

"No, I don't. I can dislike myself if I want. I can despise myself for everything I've done. I can regret my upcoming mistakes and past ones. And I know for damn sure I'm going to hate myself soon. I always do."

"Then why do this?" I gesture to everything in front of me, not knowing what I'm grasping for exactly. "Why do you stick around me? Why do you have sex with Aiden? Why do you date him? Why do you carry a box of Xanax around?" All the questions I have jumbled in mind come tumbling out and I feel relief after asking them.

Veronica huffs out and lays back down. I do the same and she stays quiet for so long that I think she must have drifted off to sleep.

"Xanax is a drug that when mixed with alcohol can be extremely dangerous, but it's also useful in a game such as Mocked. Aiden has all the parties with alcohol to provide the easy targets to the game. Get them drunk, pop a couple pills, and then fuck them. They don't remember shit in the morning and you've got another X on the wall, another victory, and another Mocked." Veronica pauses. "A win-win situation."

I feel a little nauseous at her explanation. She sounds too at peace with what she does; too confident in this game she plays.

"Why the cigarette boxes? Why not just keep then in a pill bottle?"

Veronica laughs this time hysterically like I've just said funniest thing. "Are you serious? Well it's because I smoke and it was a convenient way of getting the pills."

"But you don't smoke anymore," I remind her.

"I do. Just not around you. You told me it was unattractive and I told myself to not do it around you anymore. I didn't like that you hated it about me."

I turn and gape at her. She changed an aspect of herself because of me? I don't even remember saying to her that I hated smokers. I mean, I know I do, but when did I tell her?

My eyes widen at the sudden realization.

"You drugged me!" I gasp.

"What?" Veronica exclaims. "What?! No. God, no I have never drugged you."

"Then why can't I recall that conversation?"

"Because, Harry, you're an idiot who doesn't know his drinking limit. I've never drugged you."

A part of me relaxes at her confession. "Okay, so you didn't drug me. Did you have any plans in doing so?"

Veronica sighs and reaches towards me to take my hand. We both stare up at the sky and I feel her fingers lace with mine.

"I did," she mutters. "I was supposed to do it that first night I took you to Aiden's. I was supposed to get the Xanax from Aiden, get you drunk, and do the deed right then and there. And maybe if I had, none of this would have happened."

"None of what?" I ask.

"The whole love shit that everyone has an obsession with. Maybe I wouldn't have fallen for you or vise-versa. There'd be no pain or heartbreak or-"

"-Reason," I interrupt her from whatever she was about to say. We both turn our heads towards each other. The moonlight illuminates her, her skin paling once again and I'm transported back to the beach.

"Reason," she whispers.

"Reason to wake up in the morning and go to that dreadful place called school. Reason to put up with another day of hell. Reason to just smile every day and wish for the best of things. Reason to love," I tell her, staring directly into her brown eyes.

"Sometimes...I think this is a dream. A beautiful dream that I'm going to have to wake up from. I keep telling myself that someone in this fucked up world actually cares about me, but then I get the feeling that you're only doing it to hurt me later. And that scares me. Harry, you scare me."

My eyes widen at her confession. This Veronica that is actually frightened towards me and what I could do to her.

"I only want you...to be with you," I say honestly.

"And I want that too," she pauses and bites the inside of her cheek. "But life isn't a Fairytale. It's a tragedy, a beautiful tragedy full of pain and regret."

"I don't regret anything I've gone through with you."

"Strangely, neither do I."

"Will you answer a couple more questions?" I ask her quietly, not wanting to break the mood between us.

"You want to know why I fucked Aiden," she says bluntly and I nod. "Simple, because I have to keep him pleased. He's an angry person, Harry, he doesn't accept denial well and if I even try to refuse him, he'll know I'm no longer playing a game with you. He'll find out and he'll probably come close to murdering you."

"Then why not just break up with him?" It seriously can't be too difficult. Can it?

Veronica breathes out heavily. "Because there's this fucked up, twisted part of my brain that tells me that he'll be there when you aren't. That I won't have to be alone when you decide that you've had enough. And that fucked up piece of me rules the rest of my brain because I know it's going to happen. You're going to hate me and all I'll have left is Aiden. And I refuse to be alone. I hate being alone."

Her confession shocks me. Her assumptions that I won't want to be around her anymore. She can't be right, I mean I love her. I love her and I want to be with her. I don't want to lose her.

Is this love? The confusion of feelings and loss of words.

"I'm not going anywhere," I tell her sternly. "I promise you that."

"People promise silly things when they're in love," she says quietly.

I turn and cup her cheek with my hand. "And I'm in love with you."

Veronica blinks her brown eyes and I swear I see tears forming. "I'm scared," she whispers.

"Of what?" I ask, wondering how someone so strong on the outside can have such a weak inner self.

"Losing you and being alone again."

"Then stay with me. Just stay with me," I whisper and pull her towards me, our bodies close together. I can feel her body heat radiating off of her and onto me.

Is this love? The need to comfort someone in their time of need, to be that person who keeps someone held together by holding them yourself.






**A/N**

Please comment and vote!

I've got readers but not many of you actually comment how you feel towards this.

Anyways, love you.

-Kat