Ravynlee
New member
Over the din of the music all Mel could hear was the obscenity and the sound of panic in his voice. She instantly knew in her blood that something was wrong. Bam was no stranger to getting himself into trouble, and for that reason perhaps Mike was probably aloof for keeping him around, but all in all Bam was a good guy. He was a teenager trapped in a grown man’s body, and whether giving the cops a generally hard time or holding up traffic for the sheer **** of it, things like that were always good for a laugh – and more importantly they kept the long arm of the law extended in the wrong direction; away from what the rest of the crew were doing. Though there were times she couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him, Mel had grown fond of his antics because of the severity she got from everyone else, Mike included. If Mike was her brooding step-parent then Bam was her older brother getting up to no good and dragging her along, but he was never one to get this stressed over anything that he couldn’t talk his way out of. In those three harried words Mel knew that something was very wrong in her world. Either Mike was dead or someone close to Bam was. When she heard the word ‘Professor’ she felt her insides turn to water. There was only one person by that label they talked about in their inner circles and that was Mike’s best friend – and Mel’s old teacher at Brown, Brad Delson.
“What?”
“What’s wrong?” Benji asked.
Over the sunglasses his brow furrowed and almost became invisible. Mel shook her head at him. She couldn’t hear what Bam was saying and worse than that she couldn’t process anything else either. Suddenly the noise was too loud, the lights too hot, the crowd too suffocating. When Mel uttered something about ringing Bam back, Benji looked at her with doubt and consternation.
“What’s up?” he urged.
Over the din of the music he had to bow close but Mel didn’t see his face now. She could practically lay her head on his shoulder and seek shelter there for the rest of the night if she so wanted, but she pulled away and shook her head. As much as she was starting to have feelings for him she was in no position to drag him into the chaos of her life as she had done Shwag – and more than that bottom line was that her new good friend was a cop.
“I have to go,” she said when she met his glasses, “I’m sorry.”
She actually meant it.
Benji studied her face and Mel couldn’t shake the notion he was slipping into detective mode. The carefree guy of moments ago was nowhere to be found even though literally nothing about him had changed. Without his playful demeanor Mel had no point being here. She apologized and drew further away from him. Benji’s hand around hers once more pulled her into a stop. She froze. The urge to strike him was impulsive, it was reactive, and it had nothing at all to do with the look he was giving her. Mel choked down a snagging lump at the back of her throat that mainly consisted of guilt. She looked at Benji but all she saw at that moment was her failure with Shwag.
“I could come along, maybe I could help?” he suggested.
He was already off his seat before Mel could stop him. Now standing before each other, practically eye to eye, Mel was overcome with an even more frightening emotion as she stared at her reflection distorted on his sunglasses. Her heart was pounding but it could have just as easily been panic. In an instant she could feel Mike’s kiss on her lips from before and felt a surge of adrenalin rushing through her. She couldn’t think. She didn’t have to. She had a job to do. But she didn’t want to pull away from this moment, from this place, from this memory she was creating here with this new ray of hope in the form of a tattooed bull named detective Benji Madden, but she knew she couldn’t stay. This around her, this joy belonged to someone else, not her, she had sold her soul when she had taken her first life, no, when she had broken the neck of that little girl months ago… She had tried rationalizing it since, in her thoughts, in her nightmares, and it was only true regret since wandering down this path. Though there were many reasons she could give, and tried to alone at night struggling to sleep over the din of terrors creeping in with the darkness, she had done it to save herself as much as the child, to sever herself from her past, to strike down the hate that had always festered in her heart at it’s tentative root, and save one more person growing up as she had, looking for someone to pay for their tragic mistakes - but yet here she was again feeling as helpless and as frozen as she did that moment she had that kid’s head in her hands.
Mel shook her head and tried to smile. Where she was going no one could follow, it was a fate she’d chosen for herself, her demons were her own, and it was wrong to expect anyone else to walk it along side her. She had already lost too much, there was no point dragging anyone else down to **** with her, as tempting as the offer may have been. But Benji didn’t seem disappointed. He didn’t seem dismayed. He put his arms around her and kissed her cheek and then after a tentative pause he kissed her lips. Mel closed her eyes and let him. She wanted to kiss him back but couldn’t, she couldn’t react at all, she knew if she did she would be condoning his impulse to follow and Mel had enough heart in her left to know that was being selfish. Though she barely knew him at all she didn’t want to lose him – or what he represented - either, but saying goodbye at a crowded bar was far easier than saying goodbye at a graveside. And with that Mel turned her head away and walked out. Benji didn’t follow. She was only half glad that he didn’t.
More later.
Thanks
“What?”
“What’s wrong?” Benji asked.
Over the sunglasses his brow furrowed and almost became invisible. Mel shook her head at him. She couldn’t hear what Bam was saying and worse than that she couldn’t process anything else either. Suddenly the noise was too loud, the lights too hot, the crowd too suffocating. When Mel uttered something about ringing Bam back, Benji looked at her with doubt and consternation.
“What’s up?” he urged.
Over the din of the music he had to bow close but Mel didn’t see his face now. She could practically lay her head on his shoulder and seek shelter there for the rest of the night if she so wanted, but she pulled away and shook her head. As much as she was starting to have feelings for him she was in no position to drag him into the chaos of her life as she had done Shwag – and more than that bottom line was that her new good friend was a cop.
“I have to go,” she said when she met his glasses, “I’m sorry.”
She actually meant it.
Benji studied her face and Mel couldn’t shake the notion he was slipping into detective mode. The carefree guy of moments ago was nowhere to be found even though literally nothing about him had changed. Without his playful demeanor Mel had no point being here. She apologized and drew further away from him. Benji’s hand around hers once more pulled her into a stop. She froze. The urge to strike him was impulsive, it was reactive, and it had nothing at all to do with the look he was giving her. Mel choked down a snagging lump at the back of her throat that mainly consisted of guilt. She looked at Benji but all she saw at that moment was her failure with Shwag.
“I could come along, maybe I could help?” he suggested.
He was already off his seat before Mel could stop him. Now standing before each other, practically eye to eye, Mel was overcome with an even more frightening emotion as she stared at her reflection distorted on his sunglasses. Her heart was pounding but it could have just as easily been panic. In an instant she could feel Mike’s kiss on her lips from before and felt a surge of adrenalin rushing through her. She couldn’t think. She didn’t have to. She had a job to do. But she didn’t want to pull away from this moment, from this place, from this memory she was creating here with this new ray of hope in the form of a tattooed bull named detective Benji Madden, but she knew she couldn’t stay. This around her, this joy belonged to someone else, not her, she had sold her soul when she had taken her first life, no, when she had broken the neck of that little girl months ago… She had tried rationalizing it since, in her thoughts, in her nightmares, and it was only true regret since wandering down this path. Though there were many reasons she could give, and tried to alone at night struggling to sleep over the din of terrors creeping in with the darkness, she had done it to save herself as much as the child, to sever herself from her past, to strike down the hate that had always festered in her heart at it’s tentative root, and save one more person growing up as she had, looking for someone to pay for their tragic mistakes - but yet here she was again feeling as helpless and as frozen as she did that moment she had that kid’s head in her hands.
Mel shook her head and tried to smile. Where she was going no one could follow, it was a fate she’d chosen for herself, her demons were her own, and it was wrong to expect anyone else to walk it along side her. She had already lost too much, there was no point dragging anyone else down to **** with her, as tempting as the offer may have been. But Benji didn’t seem disappointed. He didn’t seem dismayed. He put his arms around her and kissed her cheek and then after a tentative pause he kissed her lips. Mel closed her eyes and let him. She wanted to kiss him back but couldn’t, she couldn’t react at all, she knew if she did she would be condoning his impulse to follow and Mel had enough heart in her left to know that was being selfish. Though she barely knew him at all she didn’t want to lose him – or what he represented - either, but saying goodbye at a crowded bar was far easier than saying goodbye at a graveside. And with that Mel turned her head away and walked out. Benji didn’t follow. She was only half glad that he didn’t.
---
More later.
Thanks