Fix You ~Completed~

Act Seventy-Two

When I was with Kyla, I never got to go with him to anything. The only time he brought me to a party was our freshman year of college. He'd explained that one of his friends, an older guy named Claude he often rolled with, had a little get-together going on at his apartment. "I know if I leave you here you'll just end up slitting your wrists and bleeding all over the carpet. I really don't wanna put up with that when I get home tonight," he'd grunted, then brought me into our new bedroom and instructed me to change out of my ratty hoodie and oversized jeans. I stared at him blankly when he requested this. He knew those were the only clothes I had. "Jesus, you're a mess."

That was the night Kyla also bought me a whole collection of turtle necks. "These will cover the bite marks," he'd muttered, gesturing to my discolored neck. I got quite a few weird looks over those. "And I think you'll look good in these."

"You do?" I squeaked, staring down at the pile of shirts with red cheeks. We were standing in the local Target at seven o'clock at night and Kyla looked beyond done with me. "Sorry. I love them, Kyla. T-thank you."

"You'd probably look better in those dresses over there," Kyla sniffed, gesturing to the women's section which was just a few paces to our left. A few sundresses that were on-sale stared brightly at us, taunting me just like Kyla was. I glanced at my boyfriend, waiting for a laugh or some jab to my arm, assuring me he was completely joking. "Those are pretty cheap actually. Do you want one?"

"Oh god, no," I stuttered, walking past him, still clutching the turtle necks. When he caught up with me, he was holding a hot pink, strapless dress that would probably go down to my knees. "Kyla, that's n-not funny. I'm not wearing that."

"But you'll look so cute," he pouted, nudging me.

That sort of broke me and I told him I'd do it. It wasn't the first time I shoved my pride way down into the depths of my stomach to please him and it wouldn't be the last, even if I promised it would be. Silly me just cared so much about what Kyla thought of me. I wanted to be cute, I wanted him to think I was perfect in every way. Maybe if I wore one of those dressed he'd look at me in the way he looked at some of the girls we saw on the street.

When we were parked outside Claude's apartment, I'd yanked on one of the turtle necks- a maroon one Kyla had hummed was so damn soft!- and Kyla was already lighting up. We were at the door of Claude's apartment, a cigarette in between my boyfriend's lips, and he knocked with a fist made of iron. The door swung open, revealing a tiny ginger boy with sunken in eyes. Definitely not Claude's kind of friend. Wonder what unfortunate circumstances brought him here. Maybe they were similar to my own? "Hey," he mumbled, gesturing for us to come in.

I hesitated which prompted Kyla to yank on my wrist and tug me along with him inside the damp, overcrowded apartment. There were people everywhere, smoking, drinking, shamelessly doing acts I was too embarrassed to even do alone. Claude was in the middle of it, talking up some girl with too much eye make-up on and a Ramones shirt. I turned to Kyla nervously, but he was already on his way over to Claude, dragging me along for the ride.

The tiny boy was still standing by the door, watching with mild interest. I waved uneasily, hoping maybe- just maybe- he'd come talk to me. It wasn't often I actually wanted to socialize, but something about him just made me feel comfortable. He turned away and dashed into a bedroom. The door shut silently.

"Hey, man," Kyla greeted his friend with a fist-bump.

Claude grinned at Kyla in a familiar way, throwing up his arms. "Been a while. I was worried you'd found better friends or something," he teased, gesturing for Kyla to take the empty spot beside him on the couch. There was barely enough room for my boyfriend, let alone me. "Dude, who's the nark?"