Lonely Hearts (Porter Robinson Fanfiction)

Pain

sorry for like the week long delay, but i legit typed ALL this up and had to redo it all because I accidentally didn't save it. fun times. i lost my shit lol

anyhoo i hope  you've had a lovely week & and a good valentine's day!!!

"I have to go." I said, my breathing rapid as my fingers shook, pressing End on my phone. I couldn't handle talking to Dallas right now, but I knew I had to be there or pay the consequences, and I wasn't quite ready for that yet. 

"What?" Porter asked me, bewildered. "Who was that?"

I stood up from the swing, shoving my hands into the pockets of my sweater to prevent him from seeing my trembling hands. "I uh, it was Tess. She said she was ready to go and wasn't feeling well." 

I made a mental note to tell her later to go with the story, watching Porter's face go from confusion to disbelief. "I can walk you back then, I guess." I knew he didn't believe me - I could see the disappointment from the realization of my lie in his face. But he started walking, and began to walk in the direction of the subway. I blinked my eyes shut, and followed him.

"You don't have to, its cool. Go back to the club, I'm sure the others will be looking for you." I said to Porter, running to catch up with his long steps.

His face sunk, as my words sunk in. "Yeah," he muttered. "Sure." I heard his intake of breath, and then his voice became calm and steady. "I'll see you soon."

I nodded. "Of course."

He stood watching me, as I sped down the stairs, my hair flowing behind me as I hurried to Dallas's. I turned around to see if Porter was still there, but he was gone.

About twenty minutes later, I arrived at Dallas's apartment and rang the buzzer. After being let in, Dallas stood at the door, his face full of rage.

"You said you'd make it up to me."

My heart beat fast in my chest. "I will." I sputtered. "I promised I would. I was just running a little behind."

He scoffed. "Yeah, a little behind. More like an hour and a half. I've been waiting for you, you stupid whore."

I flinched at his words, a pang throughout my chest. "Don't call me that." I said through gritted teeth. "I'm no whore."

He burst out laughing. "Oh, really now? You'd fuck someone else for money too, if I wasn't here. Good thing I am, or else you'd be on the streets. So you should be ashamed to be late here, because I'm not gonna be paying you as much anymore. You're only getting $200 tonight. Sorry for the decline in prices, whore."

My face burned. "I told you not to call me that." I spat angrily.

"I can call you whatever the fuck I want to."

I reached out and struck him in the face, my hand forcefully slapping against his cheek and slant jawbone, a loud smack reverberating throughout the apartment. Realization struck me at what I did in a few seconds, but by then it was too late. I had dug myself into a deep, deep hole now, and couldn't find myself out. I was used to this, and I could predict what was gonna happen next without a doubt.

Panic struck my stomach once again tonight.

Because in seconds, Dallas had pinned my shoulders roughly against the wall, slamming my body into it. "You stupid fucking bitch! I waste my money on you, you goddamn piece of shit. I'm gonna find someone else to fuck, because you're a fucking worthless piece of shit."

Then his fist slammed into my jaw, and my head slammed against the wall, a loud boom resounding. I gasped in pain, my vision becoming blurred, my head absolutely pounding with pain, unbearable waves of it crashing throughout my head. This had happened before once, a while back, but it wasn't nearly as bad as this. Needless to say, I was terrified. I was just ready to get this over and leave as usual, where I could go home and cry and try to figure out how to get the rest of the money for rent, and try to get the newly forming bruise of pain forming on my head to somehow weaken in pain so that it wouldn't be noticeable by anyone. 

I closed my eyes, pressing them and willing it to be over. Oh please, let us just go ahead and fuck. Please. 

And as if God answered my prayers, he was grabbing me and dragging me to the bed. I was shoved onto the king-sized navy blue bed, where he began taking off his pants furiously and anxiously.

The whole time, I was trying not to cry in pain.

When I got home later that night, my head was growing in pain and I was curious to see what it was starting to look like. I got into my apartment, and had never been more relieved to feel the normalcy and comfort of being at home, the familiar smell of candles and coffee. I filled a Ziploc bag with ice and held it to my head, listening to the soft sounds of Washed Out on my stereo. I wondered if Porter had went back to the club (that was a dumb question - of course he did) and if he had already found out from Tess that what I said was a complete lie (another dumb question - of course he knew). I tried to keep my composure until I collapsed in bed later that night, waves of sorrow and pain taking over. 

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, I repeated over and over. It's not worth it, you knew Porter didn't have real feelings for you, and you can always get money from Tess and pay her back. You can go back to Dallas and make it up to him.

But then I let it go, and the sobs took over. I didn't want to go see Dallas, I fucking wanted Porter with me here, I wanted to feel his familiar touch around me, his arms protecting my body. I wanted to stop feeling so lonely and sad, and for him to make me laugh and lose myself. I cried and cried, because I didn't want him to be upset with me, and I was hurt by Dallas, and I didn't know what to do, and then I was asleep and it was okay because the thoughts went away, and my tears dried, and the world was away from me.

I woke up in the morning, my mouth dry and my mascara remnants from last night leaving streaky black marks down from my eyes to the apples of my cheeks. I trudged to my bathroom, flipping on the light switch and willing myself to see my reflection.

My eyes were dull and empty, my face was starting to break out, and makeup was smeared everywhere. I looked like total shit.

And then I caught sight of the lump on my head. It was so overwhelming big, and deep blue mixed with green, on the top right of my forehead in plain view. I had hoped earlier that it would be easily hid by my foundation, but I knew that it wasn't possible. It was just too lumpy and dark and horrid looking.

I sighed, throwing my hair into a ponytail and washing my face of the makeup, leaving my skin fresh and dirt/makeup- free. I then went to the kitchen and ate a quick breakfast of a muffin and fruit and coffee, and headed back to my bedroom to check out my phone. 

1 missed call from Tess, the screen read.

Taking a deep breath, I exhaled and called her back.

"You have some explaining to do." She answered on the first ring.

"I know, please listen to me. Can I meet at your place or something? I'll tell you then. I'm kind of shit at talking on the phone."

She hesitated, and it was then that I realized that there were people talking in the background. "Um , that's fine with me, but I don't know if you'd be fine with it. I'm with Anton and Porter at their place actually, and we're chilling out here, so you can always come over and explain to all of us why you lied blatantly to his face just to ditch him in the middle of Brooklyn because of some phone call."

I knew he had been sure, but I didn't say anything. "It wasn't the middle of Brooklyn." I blurted out, the first thing coming into my head. 

"Whoop de fucking do!" She cheered. "How relevant. Are you coming or not?"

I put my head against my couch, breathing out through my teeth. "God, I guess so."

And so I made myself change and walk over there, preparing myself an explanation, hoping that Porter would somehow understand and everything would be back to normal.