Chapter One
What makes a person? For the millionth time Logan found himself looking into the mirror, searching his features hidden under the bruises and blood. Am I what people see on the outside, money, flash, supposed new girl every night? Or am I another version of him? Is it genetics or environment?
His lips twisted sarcastically at that thought. If that was the case then either way he was screwed. Tiredly he crossed over to his bed and attempted to find any position amidst the soft sheets that didn't hurt. His face was bad enough, but his back.. Well that was where the real agonizing white hot lances of mind numbing pain where radiating from. Always with the belt. Logan closed his eyes remembering…
"Logan," called his father using the deceptively calm tone of Aaron Echools the actor instead of the derisive mocking tone he usually wore in his monotonous role as father.
Logan flinched when he heard his voice at the entry way to the room but didn't stop playing his game to turn around. "What," he asked hoping it would be simple and he would just go away.
"When I asked you to live up to the Echools name and be responsible perhaps I wasn't clear enough on the issue."
Logan closed his eyes, this sounded as if it was going to get ugly, well old habits died hard and Logan refused to go out without a bang. "Just what have I done now Daddy Dearest? Was it my drunken malarkey or my sober malarkey? Ohh I know maybe it was when I slept with your agent and your accountant all in the same night in your bed." All of a sudden his head was reeling back and the taste of his own blood filled his mouth, the metallic tint a familiar flavor. His father leered over him all the while still wearing the calm mask reserved for his "father son" chats. Aaron reached down and grabbed his son by the hair.
"What have I told you about being respectful son? Now I know boys will be boys and you have every right to try out a few girls but discretion Logan, discretion is paramount. Aaron tossed his son roughly to the floor and punctuated his next few words with harsh kicks into Logan's ribs. "Never get caught. Every sordid thing which gets thrown in the public eye threatens this family's image and income. Remember that the next time you enjoy flaunting your perks."
"Awww but dad, really how was I supposed to know she had a camera? She was too busy screaming about how the newer model handled like a dream, all throttle and no breaks." He spat blood out and sat there staring at his father, watching as he began to pull of his belt one slow inch at a time."
"You know son, you just never learn."
Wincing Logan rolled slightly to his side ignoring the tenderness in his ribs. He reached under his bed for the trusty bottle of Jack and sardonically toasted himself. "Bottoms up Echolls" he murmured.
Sometime later when the significant amount of alcohol humming through his blood numbed the burning welts on his back, Logan stirred. Now it didn't bother him so much anymore because now it seemed kind of funny. He looked in the mirror again and all he saw was a laughing boy weaving in the reflection. Well good then he told himself, if I'm laughing then it must be okay. Dad doesn't really hate me, no he does this because he loves me, it's his way of teaching me life's hard lessons. That thought in of itself was enough to send Logan into fits of hysterical laughter and cause him to fall of the bed. Rolling around the floor he wiped the tears off his cheeks barely noticing when his fingers came away muddy brown from the waterworks making winding trails through the dried blood on his face. Somewhere along the way he had just forgotten to care. .
Lynn Echolls paused outside her son's bedroom door. Realistically she knew as his mother she should be in there comforting him, he was only 16 after all. Of course any mother worth her salt, or in Lynn's case her martini olive, wouldn't allow this to happen at all. Somehow though she couldn't bring herself to cross the threshold and inspect for herself the damage she knew firsthand Aaron was capable of inflicting. She briefly wondered when the last time she had taken care of her son was and thought maybe it was years ago. Instead she let the clinking of the ice cubes in the short glass distract her and she turned to leave as if she'd never even been there in the first place. On a well practiced teeter she wobbled down the hall on prada heels and never once looked behind her.
Veronica sat her desk typing away at the key board when the sound of her phone ringing interrupted her train of thoughts. She saved the last bit of evidence she had been logging under her personal Lilly Kane murder investigation file and looked at the caller id. Although that number had been erased from her contact list a year and a half ago she immediately recognized the number. She set the phone back down on the desk without answering it. What, was Logan calling to torture her over the phone now too? Momentarily the phone stopped and then instantly started up again. It was the same number. Veronica shoved down the ball of ice which seemed to lodge in the pit of her stomach whenever she had to have unavoidable confrontations with Logan, a member of her old group. Angrily she answered the phone. "What," asked Veronica her voice laced with the appropriate venom for her now mortal enemy?
"Hey Ronnikins," slurred a very drunk Logan Echolls.
Veronica sighed and pushed her hair out of her face. Bitter angry resentful Logan she could have handled but drunk Logan. This was unexpected and she didn't like surprises. In the past she had dealt with him and his many bouts of intoxication before deftly navigating the pendulum of emotive triggers behind the indulgences. But now, why would he reach out to her now?
"I don't know what sick joke you're trying to pull but I would appreciate it if you would leave me alone. I can smell your breath all the way through the phone and used rum just isn't as sexy as you might think it is."
"Don't worry Ver- Ronica," Logan over pronounced, "I was just calling to say goodbye. I was sitting here thinking who all I needed to say goodbye to and then I realized there's no one left. Except you," he mumbled quietly.
Veronica was already grabbing her keys and stepping into her shoes. She did not like where this conversation was headed. He might have been the school's biggest asshole but once upon a time he was one of her closest friends and from the sound of it things were really bad. "Logan tell me where you are and I'll come to you so we can talk in person okay."
"Lily's gone, Duncan's here but he's checked out, my family…well they left for daddy's new movie location tonight but I'm actually glad about that one." Veronica heard him take a moment to take another drink and then he spoke again. "When it all gets right down to it you are the only one left who knows me, who might appreciate a goodbye. Of course I did spend a long time making you miserable so if you want to hang up now it's cool. I'm ready."
Feeling a panic slither up her spine and lodge itself in her throat only urged Veronica to move faster. She jumped in the car and threw the engine to life all the while balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder, listening to Logan's ragged breathing and sloppy gulping coming out of the tiny speaker.
"Logan, are you at home because it won't take me very long to get there. I'll be there soon and then you can tell me how much you hate me in person."
"I'm just so tired Ronnie, so damn tired." The stark utter hopelessness emanating out of his voice was heartbreakingly palpable in its' sincerity.
Veronica pushed the pedal as fast as she dared, thankful for the almost empty streets. Scenery flew by outside her windows, dull and lifeless against the starless night.
"This is not a home Ronica, this is a temple to the great and worthy Aaron Echolls and the rest of us just worship here, well and most importantly pay penance here." His voice drifted down, became more muffled as he mumbled, "penance no we can't ever forget about that."
Veronica pulled into the long winding driveway and slammed on the breaks. The house looked as formidable as it always did. Larger than life, in your face rich and completely unapologetic about it. She stood on the steps briefly frozen, remembering what it has felt like to be brutally ostracized, but then she heard Logan making noises which sounded strangely like repressed sobs and she opened the door. Logan had been awful to her, god awful downright horrible. But he had been one of her closest friends, a part of the most important group of people in her life and having had to go through Lily being violently ripped away. Well, bygones aside, she just couldn't handle any more death.
"I'm right here Logan. I just came into the downstairs," she said reassuringly compelling him to feel her intent to help him. Taking the stairs two at a time, she forced her shorter legs to race up the steps until she found herself standing outside the bittersweet familiarity of Logan's door. Ohh it hurt to think of the last time she'd been here.
Hesitantly she pushed the door open and gasped at the site that greeted her. Her phone slipped from her clammy hands and landed on the clothing strewn carpet below. She actually pushed her trembling fingers to her mouth as if she could physically hold back the stinging bile rushing up from her stomach.
"Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod"
"No," answered Logan from his prone position, "if there is even a God, I just don't think he cares."