Page 38 of Paint the Town, Dove

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Or did she call for me?

She was yelling – yelling at –

Fuck how did I get this fucked up?

Yasmine. That’s why. I followed her – Scarlett, not Yasmine –

She poured a drink on my ex-girlfriend.

Ha,ha-ha.“Dove,” I swatted her, but she paid me no mind. “Dove, you drenched Yas.”

“Not now,” she gripped my wrist, weeding through traffic. “Everyone,move!”

“Yeah! Moooo –” I tried, “Moo! Moo…”

“Shut up, Ryden!” She snapped, pinching my forearm with her nails.She loved to do that. I loved when she did that. I loved –

“Two birds will soar if nothing more…” I hummed, a piece I’ve been working on for years, swaying like a corpse as she dragged me through and through, you know,party people.

“A red little bird,” I chuckled, leaning against Scar’s neck, breathing the scent of her in. Berries and cinnamon. Like my birthday gift to her all those years ago.

“You hated cinnamon hearts,” I mused, nuzzling into her once again. “And I got you cinnamon hearts…”

“Donny!” She yelled, yanking someone large in front of me.

“Slender man!” I threw my hands over my eyes. “Who thefuck!”

“I got him, Scarlett.”

Whoa. Mr. Deep Voice didn’t come to play. “Darth Vader?” I asked. I couldn’t fucking see. I couldn’t open my fucking eyes.

Everything was tilting.

Oh… fuck. No.

I’m going to, to fucking –

Too late.

Whatever I ate for breakfast lunch and dinner was a cast of cream all over my arms, my shirt, my shoes. I felt it squish, felt the mush, felt hands all over me –

Felt –

Felt like a…

A wreck.

“Get this boy outta my room, Clara! He’s making a fucking mess!”

“No Corban, hon, he’s just looking for some paper…”

*Smack*

“Mom!Mom! No!”

“It’s fine, Ryden, I just need a minute…”

“Fucking mess, fucking wreck, fucking waste of a boy!”

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