Table for Five

When You Where Young Prt. 2

I stumbled down the icy streets, clutching my thin coat. Tears whisked away at my cheeks as I continued through the quickly darkening city.

What is with him?  I questioned my mind spun from the previous events, Pete and I had never fought before. My love for him had never quavered like this, and here I am, crying and running away from the love of my life. His screams had disappeared now, as did thoughts of him. The farther I walked the more I thought of Brandon. I smiled as I thought of the sleepless nights he and I spent together, the trips to Vegas and the mystical lights, before all of this happened. My parents had always liked Brandon, and quite preferred him over any of the guys I ever showed interest in. I was beginning to understand, he was so kind, and he'd never do anything outrageous, like attempt suicide in a van. 

"Brandon?" I could see my breath as I talked into my cellphone, "You said you where spending the week in Chicago?" 

I couldn't help but smile as I heard his voice from the other side, he sounded so grown up, not the little boy I remembered.

"No, you don't have to pick me up, I can walk just fine." I knew he would persist, always a gentleman. I waited for what seemed like an eternity in the cold, huddled around myself. Brandon pulled up, cool as ever, in a shiny motorcycle, he took off his helmet and tossed his hair, just like you see in the movies.  

"Brooklyn!" His smile warmed me all over. He pulled off his leather jacket and wrapped it around me. He helped me onto his motorcycle and sped through the streets, my hair flowing back as the wind passed. He pulled up to a grand looking hotel with fountains and gold embellishments. I hadn't seen anything this nice in a long time, let alone be in somewhere like this.

We entered and I followed Brandon to his room. I walked in and gasped, it was beautiful. Gold everywhere, mirrors, sofas, chandeliers, and everything else you can imagine. Brandon smiled and threw himself on a lavish sofa. He laughed at my astonishment, "Haven't you heard? I made it! I'm famous!" He put his arms behind his head and leaned back. 

"Y-You couldn't mean someone actually noticed you? And got you out of that town?" 

He smiled and nodded, "Just like I told you." 

Flashbacks of starry skies and stories of how "Brandon Flowers" would be in those lights, of showgirls and stardom, of the American Dream, rushed into my head. 

I fell on the sofa next to him and leaned against him. He ran his fingers through my hair and sighed, "You grew up well."

A blush grew over my cheeks as I returned the complement. 

"Remember the time your mom caught us playing spin the bottle in your basement?" He asked , pulling me closer. "Well, I don't think she's here now, you do you say we pick up where we started?"  

I pulled back, "Brandon.. I-I'm married." 

This only made him grin more and pin my arms behind my head. He covered my mouth as I opened it to protest. "Just let it happen..." He whispered in my ear.

Believe it or not, this failed to calm my nerves.

He picked me up and threw me on the bed, I squirmed and tried to escape his tight grasp. Brandon slithered up my body, when he arrived at my neck he examined it and saw the faint marks of where Pete's hands had been, "So, you're into choking?" He spoke with a devilish grin. I shook my head and squirmed, trying to escape.

Where is the innocent boy I remember?  Where is the boy who would do anything to protect me? 

That's when it hit me, that boy was the one I had stormed out on. He was the boy who really loved me.  

"Brandon, please don't do this.." I whimpered, finally giving up on escaping. I looked up at him, tears brimming my eyes. 

He chuckled, "Don't worry darling, I'll use protection." My heart broke as he spoke.

I remembered something my grandpa had told me, "If you are ever in trouble, press the off button on your phone five times, then a screen will come up with three different contacts press 911! They will be sent to your exact GPS location, promise me you'll stay safe." 

(That is a legit thing you can do on the iPhone, so keep that in mind if you are ever in real trouble!)

I blew off his comments then, but now I found myself reaching for my phone. I did as I was told and pressed the 911 contact. Somehow, Brandon hadn't noticed, he only got closer and closer to getting his prize. Sooner than I could have ever expected, a loud crash came from the door and three police men rushed in. I squirmed away from Brandon as two of them pulled him away from me. 

"Miss? Can we ask you a couple questions?" 

I nodded and pulled my knees to my chest. I answered all the questions they had, almost crying. I truly lost it when they asked, "Is there anyone we can call for you?" 

I nodded again and gave them Pete's phone number. They called him but he didn't pick up, they tried again, only to get the same result. I began to be worried for him and suggested we go to him, knowing what trouble he could be in. The officer obliged and took me to his car. I directed him to the old home, the windows where dark, but the porch light was on. The officer knocked on the door, and I heard a muffled response, "Go away!"

I rushed to the door, slamming it relentlessly, "Pete!" The door opened slowly, revealing the dark and cold house. 

"Pete!!" I screamed, rushing through the seemingly empty house while assuring the officer that he was here.  

'B-Brooklyn?" A soft voice spoke, I turned to find the owner of the voice. I then saw my husband, laying on the couch, bottles of every deathly substance sitting around him.