"Knock Me A Kiss"
“The one I love
I should destroy”
“Hit So Hard” – Hole
“I try to laugh about it
Cover it all up with lies
I try and
Laugh about it
Hiding the tears in my eyes
'Cause boys don't cry”
Boys Don’t Cry – The Cure
“All the world is a stage
And everyone has their part
But how was I to know which way the story'd go?
How was I to know
You'd break my heart?”
Take A Bow - Madonna
She sat on the bed in the robe he provided and accepted the mug of decaffeinated coffee he offered. He grabbed the chair with his suit jacket draped on the back and dragged it away from a nearby desk closer to the bed and sat down.
She sipped it. Honey and milk, mmm.
Alex looked differently without his costume. He looked like a boyish man, a softer featured face than his father’s. The kind of face that should grace teen magazines and movie posters or catwalks.
His dress shirt is crisply ironed, but the collar is undone as well as the cuffs.
Beatriz looks at him expecting him to say something. The situation last night was pretty ugly and even though he apologized and let her have the bed, their morning was strained. She wanted to leave before he woke up, she waited, but he didn’t sleep. She would hear him walking around in the next room, muttering and heard the occasionally sound of something breaking. He deserved something better than that and she wouldn’t feel right leaving him in his state.
She thought about soothing him, but she wasn’t sure if he wanted to see her, didn’t want to upset him again.
He looks at her as well, maybe expecting something from her but she doesn’t know what to say or do.
His head hangs and he rubs his face with a sigh. She wishes she knew what to do.
He starts to weep and she hesitates rubbing one trembling shoulder but ultimately reaches out a hand and places on his arm. He immediately grabs her wrist and discards her hand, bolts out of his chair in outrage. He looks down at her, his blue eyes harsh and face a light pink, his finger jabbed out as if to chide.
He begins pacing, his jaw tight.
She puts her mug on the nightstand and tries to shrink into the robe.
He stops pacing with his back toward her.
“You’re a whore.” He’s not very loud.
She feels offended even though she’s been called worse by worse people, but still, she doesn’t know what to say or do.
“You’re a WHORE!” He’s looking at her now, eyes blazing.
She tries to remain calm, but she feels very threatened.
“Did you hear me?!” his fast footsteps close some distance between them, “Did you?!” he shouts at her.
Then, he burst into tears.
“Do-do you have…any idea—any FUCKIN’ clue—of what you’ve done to me?” he sobbed, “Do you?!”
“No.”
“No? No?!”
“No.” She really doesn’t.
“You broke my heart, you stupid bitch!” He points an accusing finger. “You stupid, ugly, miserable bitch!” His face crumples up again and he tries to stop the tears but he can’t and covers his face. “Fuck you!”
She wants to hold him, tell him “it’s ok”, but she can’t.
He quiets down after a few moments and rubs his face again and stares daggers at her.
“You manipulated me. You used me.” Each accusation accented with that jabbing finger. “Seduced me, I was just a boy. I gave you my heart, trusted you with it, and you made me eat it!”
She can’t look at him.
“You raped me!”
That gets her.
“You knew I was sorry about that!” she looks at him a little hurt. “I couldn’t help myself, I don't know why. Before I knew what I was doing, it was done! You knew I felt bad, but you told me it was ok and I felt better.”
“That’s because I thought you loved me.”
“Alex, I do love you!” Maybe not the way he meant it, but she did love him.
“Bullshit! If you loved me, you would have taken me with you! You knew the hell I was in!”
“I couldn’t do that to you, I could hardly handle it!”
“We could have made it together!”
“Do you know what would have happened to you? What some gang could have done to you?”
“What, rape me like you did?!”
“Y’know what Alex, I’m not sorry for what I did, it was the only thing I could think of to comfort you.”
“WHORE!”
She gets up and walks over to him as he seethes.
“Don’t be this way.”
She goes to hug him, but he shoves her away.
“NO, NO, NO!! Go hug that Trent King since you’re so—fucking—in love with him, since you let him put his goddamn hands on you!”
He’s upset again, angry with tears. She tries to hug him again and he doesn’t push her away.
“I’m sorry, Alex. I really am.”
She looks up at him and thumbs away the tears and tiptoes to kiss his cheekbones as he sniffles.
“I did what I thought was best.”
Her nose nuzzles against his affectionately.
“I’m sorry…please don’t hate me.”
She brushes her lips against his and kisses the corners of his mouth.
“I don’t.”
“You don’t?”
“No.” He’s cut off partially by her mouth as they kiss.
