Story Name: Save Me

Summary: Emmett is riding his motorcycle in LA when he sees Bay's street art.

Chapter 1: Street Art

Emmett's POV

What can I say? California life suited me well. After living here for five years, I had no intent on moving back to Kansas. I loved the ocean, beautiful weather and the constant buzz and excitement. There was always something to do, which starkly contrasted with my life in the mid-west.

Roughly one year ago, I finished my bachelors of arts degree at USC. Now I was working on small independent films around the area attempting to expand my resume and catch my big break into the movie-making scene.

Since I was making some money directing small films, I recently purchased a new motorcycle. It felt wonderful to feel the wind rushing through my hair. I felt free. Riding by the pristine beaches surrounded by palm trees calmed me and confirmed that I was where I was supposed to be.

One day when I was riding back to my apartment from the production studio that was editing one of my independent films, something caught my eye. Curious, I turned around. Pulling up to an abandoned building, I saw walls filled with graffiti. In the middle of the spray paint chaos, someone had plastered an angry girl in a pink dress holding a massive axe. Without a second thought, I realized this work belonged to Bay, my ex girlfriend. This meant that Bay was in LA.

Slowly I walked up to the street art as I inspected it closer. Looking at the detail and design of the girl and her axe, I could definitely confirm this was the work of Bay Kennish. It had been five years since I had seen or even talked to Bay. Now as I looked at her artwork, I couldn't help but feel pain and longing building in my chest. I will freely admit that Bay was my first love. I loved her with everything I had and was. Clearly time and distance can destroy even the closest relationships.

Hopping back on my motorcycle, I couldn't help but think of the last time I saw Bay. It was nighttime at one of my favorite beaches. I had just finished shooting a short film about my relationship with Bay, or rather a deaf boy's relationship with a hearing girl.

She was trembling. Her face was filled with tears and her eyes with disbelief. My adolescent brain was confident that Bay had cheated on me with Tank. There could be no other solution.

"What happened to I will always come find you?"

Those words and her piercing eyes have always haunted me. Bay was raped and I was probably the worse friend, let alone boyfriend on the planet. I didn't give her the benefit of the doubt. I listened to her story, but only with a closed mind. I will never forgive myself for letting her go. I gave up and was forced to move on. For that, I hated myself.

Pulling into the parking lot of my tiny apartment complex, I stashed my motorcycle and unlocked the door. Immediately I was overwhelmed with an amazing smell.

Traipsing into the kitchen, I saw Skye cooking on the stove.

"That smells amazing!" I signed with a smile.

"Yeah? It's my mom's recipe for spaghetti. Tomatoes were on sale this week at the grocery store!"

"Perfect!" I responded.

Skye was an amazing cook and an amazing producer. Together we had completed over ten short films together. We were an amazing team. Everything with her seemed effortless. There were no fights or drama. It was just an easy comfortable life.

After I helped Skye set the table, dinner was served.

"Thirty days Emmett! Can you believe it?" squealed Skye, happiness radiating from her face.

Nodding I smiled.

In thirty days I will be marrying Skye. We had already booked the chapel, invited all of our closest friends and Skye had picked her wedding dress with the help of her mother. Everything was falling into place. I mean, after you date someone for four years, its only natural and expected that you ask her to marry you. I wouldn't have had any doubts about our wedding except the recent sighting of axe girl was troubling my mind.

After Skye turned into bed, I silently escaped out of the front door and into the darkness of the night. Hopping onto my motorcycle, I drove back to the graffiti wall I saw earlier today.

Reaching into my backpack, I grabbed a black spray paint can. Freehand, I drew a giant question mark next to the angry axe-wielding girl. Under the question mark I wrote the year, which happened to be 2020.

There was a strange feeling of exhilaration knowing I had just broken the law by drawing on an abandoned building. For once I felt alive. Instead of being trapped in the rut of my daily life, I was being rebellious. It was amazing to feel the blood course through my veins and feel my heart pump with energy and gusto. I was reminded of the constant adventure it was like being with Bay, when we used to terrorize Mission Hills and East Riverside. Man, I missed the drama and excitement.

Once I completed my work, I stood back and admired my creation. It was a continuation of our timeline. I remember Bay's last words to me were about changing the ending to our timeline. Perhaps our ending was not as final as I had originally thought.

Ugh, Emmett what were you thinking? You are in a happy relationship with Skye! Why risk it for someone you haven't seen in five years? For someone who may not even be the same person you remember? My heart was torn. Did I want comfort or adventure? That was the million-dollar question.

Could the workday end any sooner? Although my production team was making great progress on my next short film, I couldn't help but wonder if there would be a response waiting for me at the graffiti filled abandoned building. Knowing Bay, I knew she could check her work to make sure no one "bombed" it. Perhaps she had written me a response?

I was probably just lifting my hopes to be crushed. Knowing Bay, she probably had no desire to see me again. I couldn't blame her after the way I treated her. I cheated on her with Simone, her once best friend, now sworn enemy when she was trying to help me sort out my life, splintered by my parent's divorce. Then when she was raped, I was worthless again, blinded by my own anger and hate. Reflecting on the situation, I didn't deserve Bay. She deserved someone who is brave, who laughs at her witty jokes, and is loyal to her, no matter the situation. I'm not that guy. I'm a coward, a flaky, unreliable coward.

Pulling up to the massive wall, I noticed no changes to the exterior. Damn, maybe she didn't come. Maybe she didn't see my attempt to reconcile. Feeling deflated, I slowly turned to leave. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something flapping in the wind. Blending in with the chaos of the wall was a multi-colored postcard shaped item. Pulling it from the wall, I realized it was a VIP ticket to an art show that was happening this evening.

Dear Emmett,

I'm presenting tonight at the LA Art Show located at the LA Convention Center. Perhaps I will see you there. Glad to see your badass street art skills are still intact.

Bay

After reading her note, I couldn't help but feel my heart soar. It was Bay and I was going to see her tonight.

Quickly I decided to run home and change for this formal event.

"Hey Emmett! I made hamburgers for dinner!" greeted Skye.

Breezing right past her, I did not have time for pleasantries or dinner. I was rifling through my dress shirts and suits in my closet when I felt a firm tap on my shoulder.

"Emmett! What's going on? Where are you going?"

Softly I sighed. I knew my response would upset Skye.

"Bay invited me to the LA Art Show. Apparently she's presenting."

"Bay? Bay is here? Since when? Why didn't you tell me she was here Emmett? That girl is crazy! When I met her freshman year while we were producing your first film she yelled at you on the beach and snapped at me!"

"I deserved it. I flaunted her private life and made it into a movie. I broke her trust."

"Artists draw inspiration from everything and you received an A on that project!"

"It doesn't matter Skye, I'm going okay?"

"Well then I'm coming with!"

"You can't Skye! Bay only gave me one ticket."

"Well don't come crying to me when she hurts you again!" growled Skye as she stalked off.

"That went well," I bitterly thought to myself.

Carefully I selected a blue dress shirt and a gray suit and tie. I thought the shirt really brought out my eyes and contrasted nicely with my flaming orange hair.

Whisking past an angry Skye in the kitchen, I jumped onto my motorcycle and accelerated into the evening air.

Parking my bike, I made my way to the LA Convention Center. Around me were gorgeously dressed women in fancy dresses and men wearing well fitted tuxedos and suits. I was glad I decided to change my outfit after work. Walking up the stairs to the convention center I showed the attendant my VIP ticket, which was replaced with a VIP badge.

When I entered, I was greeted by waiters offering me glasses of champagne and fancy horderves. Selecting a flute of champagne, I attempted to blend into the crowd while glancing at beautiful pieces of art. Snagging a program, I flipped to the back where there was an index of all the artists presenting. Once I found Bay's name, I turned to the appropriate page in the program.

Apparently Bay won the prestigious Frida Kahlo award and was going to be making a speech at the Latino/a influenced art gallery. Noticing the time and checking my watch, I quickly headed over.

It looked like I had just made it in time. The crowd that arrived for this presentation was enormous. All of the chairs were taken. I had to settle for standing room in the back.

When Bay walked onto the stage she was stunning. I couldn't help but let a small gasp escape from my lips. She was wearing a modest cut black dress that hugged her curves and contrasted against her smooth alabaster skin. Her lips were full, coated with bright red lipstick and her brown eyes were sparkling, full of energy and life. She looked exactly like I remembered her. It was as if nothing had changed.

It appeared that Bay was winning the Frida Kahlo award for a self-portrait she completed of herself. When they showed her self-portrait, I immediately began to focus on reading her lips. Although the distance was great, the red lipstick really helped me make out some of her words.

"This painting really demonstrates when I was in a dark place. Much like Frida and Diego's relationship, I had one that drew parallels. As Frida would say, 'I am not sick…I am broken…but happy to be alive as long as I can paint…'"

I… I broke her.

Once the presentation was over and people began to funnel from the gallery, I started to walk towards Bay's self-portrait that had gained so much acclaim and recognition.

It was beautiful. Her face showed so much pain, yet within her eyes I could see so much strength. Staring back at me was a woman who had been raped, who was cheated on by her boyfriend, and had survived a tracking anklet, among other things. Even through the anguish she carried in her face, she was still beautiful and she was still my Bay.

Feeling a light tap on my shoulder, I turned and saw Bay herself.

"Well I suppose I should thank you for this award. Without you putting me through hell and back, my self-portrait would not have been this powerful," laughed a quick-witted Bay.

I couldn't help but notice the brightness in her eyes and how fluent and crisp her signing was.

"Thank you for the ticket. I really appreciate it. When I saw your street art, I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that you were in LA."

"Well you were probably the last person I expected to see here. Was that your lousy attempt at finishing our timeline? A question mark? Really?"

Slowly I nodded.

"Emmett, I haven't seen you in five years. You can't have expected me to wait for you this long!"

"Clearly you have waited," I responded gesturing to her self-portrait.

Slowly Bay closed her eyes as she attempted to regain her composure. Her short temper had not changed.

"Emmett you hurt me. You destroyed me from the inside out. I can't go to anywhere without remembering you… Remembering us and what could have been. It's not fair. You don't get to charge into my life with a graffiti question mark! My life already has enough of those!"

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry."

"Plus it's not like you've been waiting for me! You're probably married to that Skye person by now anyway."

"Engaged…"

"Emmett, I'm done. I'm not going to lie that I thought we had something, that my heart was lifted when I saw you here tonight. But then you crushed it like you always do. Have a happy life, I'll try to remember to send a wedding card."

With her clearly angry response, Bay stormed out of the gallery leaving just her forlorn self-portrait and me. The one person who could save me had just left the building.

Thank you all so much for reading! I really appreciate it! Please leave a review and let me know if you think I should continue! Thanks!