Driven by Confidence, a Ross Lynch Fan Fiction

Chapter 9

Not much time had passed when I woke up. I walked to the bathroom and saw the clock read 10:04. When I heard a knock on the door, I replied, "Come in."

"There's some of my ex-girlfriend's make up under the sink. You need it."

After the door closed, I looked at myself. Dark purple highlighted my left cheekbone and temple. A burgundy color painted my left cheek. My neck was sore. I lifted my dress to see all sorts of unnatural colors all over my stomach. Blue, pink, burgundy, brown, purple, yellow, you name it. This looked so bad.

As I bent to retrieve the make up, I groaned in pain from my stomach. Standing was even worse.

The makeup was a little bit paler than I was, which I had never thought possible, considering my ghostly skin tone.

I dug through the pink bag to find thick, expensive concealer. Using my ring finger, I dabbed it over the bruising on my face. It almost looked normal. Using the foundation brush, I brushed on some foundation and then covered my face in a thin veil of powder. I put some more mascara on and you couldn't even see the bruises.

I exited the bathroom, and Jace was sitting on his bed, facing me. "You should go. There are still some paparazzi out. They always stick around after seeing someone enter someone else's home to see if someone slept over. Tell them we watched a sad movie after dinner. It'll explain your swollen eyes. And remember, tell anyone, and I do worse to you than my ex-girlfriend."

I nodded, and he held out my phone. I took it and he walked me to the front door. Before opening it, he said, "A kiss for show."

I pecked him when he opened the door and walked back out to my car, answering the paparazzi's questions exactly the way Jace had told me to answer them. I was being trained as if I was his dog, and I didn't like it.

-----

When I got home, Ross was sitting on the steps to my door. It was nearly eleven at night; why was he here?

I got out of the car and walked up to him in the light of the lit pathway. He stood.

"I waited to see how your date went. I just want to make sure he's treating you well."

He isn't. Why wouldn't I just say that?!

"He is. He made me dinner and then we watched a sad movie."

He squinted his eyes a bit. "You never wear anything besides mascara these days; how come you're wearing so much makeup?"

Why did he have to point that out?

"My skin was really blotchy today."

"But I looked at the pictures the paparazzi took of you walking into his house, and you weren't wearing any makeup then..."

"Ross-"

"Which means that you put it on at his house. But why would you put makeup on at his house?"

"The crying from the sad movie made me look gross."

I shoved past him to my door and sorted through my mess of keys and key chains to find my house key.

"I think your're lying."

I was. "Well, I'm not, so-"

Ross put his hand on my arm and turned me around. I shot a glare his way. His brown puppy-like eyes were concerned and desperate. He was begging for me to tell him.

"I know when you're lying, Dianna. Remember how we were together almost all the time for that week?  I know you. You're avoiding eye contact and you're getting defensive. Your hands are shaking. I'm not an idiot. I can tell you're lying. If he's threatening you if you tell anybody, there's a way around it. Just tell me. I won't do anything rash. We can work through this together like adults instead of jumping right to a solution."

My eyes had started watering sometime when he was talking. Telling him might be the best decision. Jace doesn't have to know he knows.

I turned back around and unlocked my door, then opened it. "Follow me."

-----

I sat Ross on the chair next to my bed as I went to my bathroom to change into pajamas. There wasn't a spot of normal-colored skin on my stomach. I changed into black leggings and a white tee with a few holes in it. I grabbed a makeup wipe and left the bathroom.

After I sat on my bed next to Ross on the chair, I told him, "Don't freak out. Please."

I couldn't believe I was doing this. I took the makeup wipe and removed all the gunk from my face. I refused to open my eyes to see his reaction. I wouldn't.

"He told me that if anyone found out, he'd beat me worse than his ex-girlfriend. So don't tell anyone. I can work through this, just-"

I stopped short when I felt his hands caressing my face. My eyes shot open and I saw his face so sorrowful. His large eyes were studying my bruise as if there was a final exam on it in an hour.His jaw had dropped and he had no interest in closing his mouth. His eyes were what got me, though. If the eyes were the window to the soul, his soul would be mourning.

He composed himself. All melancholy left his demeanor as rage replaced it. His jaw was clenched, his eyes hard and cold, and his lips were pressed into a thin line. "Are there any more?"

He would freak if he saw my stomach. There was legitimately no spot of naturally colored skin on my stomach. Nonetheless, I lifted my shirt.

If rage was what he was feeling before, I did not want to know what he was feeling then. It was as if someone had lit dynamite in his eyes; dynamite that kept going off.

"I'm gonna kill him," Ross hissed as he stood, but I grabbed his wrist, much like he had on the night he broke up with me. But one little touch brought him down to earth as he slumped back down in his chair. His jaw was clenched again, but his eyes were mournful. He kept running his hands through his hair, but he looked like he would cry any moment. The anger and sorrow were in a well-matched tug-of-war.

"How do we get me out of this?" I pleaded.

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I'm so sorry for the late post! College is kinda sucking up my life.