Being Scared Won't Help

•Vivian, present time•

"Mark, please. I know you're upset and I understand, but you have to forgive me. I've never been around this kind of...equipment. It was an accident," I say, almost to the point where tears are about to fall. "Just..stop talking."

"But, Mark, I--"

"Stop talking! Get out. Please." Mark demands. I shake my head and immediately regret my decision. Mark stands up and puts his hands on my chest, just below my neck. I remember him doing this when we were kids. It's his way of showing how angry he is. I push his hands off and walk out of his apartment. I hate him so much sometimes but I can't help but be in love with him.

•Vivian, past•

"Honey, if you don't put yourself out there and get married with in a year, we'll have no choice but to marry you off to a good friend of ours," my mom, Joni, told me. I shook my head as I packed the last box and put it into the trunk of my car. "I'm moving out whether you like it or not. And I'm only doing it because I don't want to get married to some man I don't know," I said defiantly. I swung open the driver's side door and slid onto the seat. "Well, just know that if you come back, we still love you and we want you to be happy," my step-dad, Jacob, said happily. I nodded and started my car then drove out onto the street.

I had enough money on me, say 50 grand, (My parents are rich, so who can blame me.) and that was more than enough to get myself on my feet over in Los Angeles. I did have a degree to become a veterinarian and that was one of the reasons I was moving out to the West Coast. But if that doesn't work out, I had YouTube to fall back on.

It took me at least 4 days to get to California on the speed I was going and how many hours I slept but even though I was exhausted and feeling guilty, I had a burst of joy when I finally reached the city limits. I drove around, glancing at a small piece of paper with an address written on it every now and then. I sighed in relief as I finally managed to get to the apartment alive and unharmed. I got out and walked into the building, amazed at how it looked. I had a bunch if numbers written down on my hand and needless to say, I bumped into a lot of people as I searched for my apartment. One person was very..peculiar. "Ah, God. I'm sorry. I'm just looking for--" I began but my brain wouldn't let me finish my sentence as I looked up. "Oh, it's alright. Also, that's the apartment next to mine. I'm Mark. Mark Fischbach."