Title: Piano Man - Billy Joel

8 – Forget About Life for a While

At one AM that morning, Zero had taken the horribly familiar path back to her bedroom, absolutely exhausted. Just like every other time, she had felt disgusted with herself, and tried to forget what had happened. When she had finally gotten there, all she could think to do was strip her clothes off (disgustingdisgustingdisgustingwhydidIdothatI'mafuckingslut), fumble absently for the packet of little pink pills she kept hidden beneath her pillow, and collapse on the bed.

(When her eyes fluttered close of their own accord, she didn't realise she hadn't taken one. The packet slipped over the edge of the bed and vanished, unnoticed.)

When she woke at eight AM, it was to a disgruntled Trixie who seemed awfully insistent about dragging her to some goddamn class, and all she could do was glare sullenly, the events of the night forgotten.

(That was, until Trixie immediately brought them up.)

By nine AM, she had already almost gotten in a fight, and was now lying on her third bed in twelve hours. The feeling of disgust was back, and she wanted nothing more than to claw her own fucking skin off –

'Hey, calm down, breathe – Zero, it's okay, you're here – c'mon, breathe -'

. . . and then she remembered why she didn't.

Ten AM. Vin's room. Dark. Quiet.

Vin.

Neither of them had moved since they had gotten there, tangled hopelessly together. Vin still didn't let go of her hand.

Secretly, she didn't want him to.

He hadn't asked what had happened. In fact, they hadn't spoken the whole time they were there, and . . . it was nice.

It was what she needed.

Talking about what had happened over the last day wasn't something she really wanted to do. How exactly do you go about telling your best friend that your father is now in the drug trade (in prison, no less), that you're stuck without any other family, and that you just slept with the person he legitimately hates to try and forget about it –

It wasn't something she felt like she could do. Not just yet. But Vin seemed to recognise that. In fact, he had pulled up The Lord of the Rings on his phone and let it play as background noise, continuing from where they left off before that single phone call that sent everything thereafter in a downward spiral.

She really didn't deserve someone like Vin.

Morning became afternoon, which became night, and still nothing was said. Vin produced a bag of chips from the stash hidden under his bed, and though Zero wasn't exactly hungry, she wasn't about to turn down deep-fried salt-and-vinegar goodness. Never in a million years would that happen.

As the temperature gradually dropped, they wound up bundled beneath the blankets, now having moved on to watching The Hobbit. Zero wasn't exactly paying attention; she was half asleep, occasionally slipping in and out of consciousness, and she felt far more content than she had been for a very long time. From time to time, Vin's watch would buzz as someone tried to contact him, and he would talk in a low murmur as though he were afraid of rousing her. If he knew she was aware that he was absently stroking her hair with one hand, he didn't show it. She didn't mind, really. Normally such affection would be a cause for objection, but right now she didn't see a problem in it.

This, she decided, was what home felt like.

She slept, and everything seemed to be okay again.

It was strange for Vin, this kind of affection. Sure, he'd kissed girls, and he had always been a bit of a sucker for hugs (probably due to experiencing a severe lack of them as a kid), but he couldn't really say that he had really done anything quite like this. Cuddling was never something that had really been on the table, especially with Zero.

He wasn't complaining, though.

This was easily the most open to affection he had ever seen her in his entire life. If you had told him a few years ago that their relationship would evolve to something like this, he would have laughed. Very loudly, and very awkwardly.

Now, he was just kind of sad, because he knew Zero was like this because of something really bad. He didn't know whether he ought to ask about it. She wasn't exactly the sort to talk about her feelings, and he didn't want a repeat of what had happened with Trixie.

He had been absently threading his fingers through her hair when he finally heard her speak.

'Why is everything so hard?'

He froze, hand still in her hair, before carefully looking down at her. Her eyes were still closed, and her fingers had curled in his shirt sometime during sleep.

'Because life can be a bitch,' he replied softly.

She huffed in quiet laughter. 'You're not wrong.'

They were both quiet for a long moment, before Vin carefully decided to ask about it.

'Would it help to . . . y'know, talk it out? Because I'm happy to listen, if you'd like.'

Zero didn't reply. Her brow furrowed a little, and Vin waited nervously, in case he'd upset her.

Finally, she said something. 'I guess I've got to talk some time.' She sighed heavily, before finally opening her eyes and looking up at him. 'I . . . it's complicated.'

'I'm all ears,' he told her softly. A small, sad smile tugged on the corners of her lips, before she shuffled a bit, propping herself up on the pillows like Vin. She seemed to make sure his arm was still draped around her, like it gave her some sense of security. Then, her next words hit him like a punch in the gut.

'Dad's in prison.'

'Shit,' he muttered, eyes widening. 'Is that -'

'That's where I went yesterday. He's . . . he's been dealing meth, and I was the only family left they could call.'

'But . . .' he trailed off, slightly confused. 'You haven't seen him since tenth grade. Since he . . .'

Zero had never actually told Vin what her father had done to her, but he was pretty sure he knew.

She fidgeted uncomfortably. 'I know, but . . . I've dealt with him for good. I'm never seeing him again.'

'That's . . . that's rough.' He unintentionally began playing with her hair again, but she didn't seem to mind. 'I can understand why you're not taking it so well.'

'Mmh.' She bit her lip. 'I've . . . I've done things I'm not proud of, Vin.'

'So have I.'

'Yeah, but . . .' She looked uncomfortable. 'I don't think you would look at me the same way.'

He snorted. 'Yeah, right.' He reached up with his free hand and tapped her nose. 'As if that would happen.'

She didn't look convinced, and started to sit up. 'I did say it was complicated.'

'Talk about something else, then.'

She paused, halfway propped up on her arm, looking at him long and hard. Their faces were still very close together, and Vin found himself staring at her eyes, which were reflecting the light from the phone.

'I guess I'm just afraid of being lonely,' she whispered.

'You're allowed to be afraid.' He reached up and gently put a hand on her shoulder, encouraging her to lie back down. She eventually put her head on the pillow beside him, watching him intently in the darkness. 'You're allowed to feel.'

'I can't. Not really.' She paused, before adding, 'I can't afford to be weak.'

He swallowed; a sharp, clicking sound in the silence. 'Does it scare you?'

'. . . So, so much.'

He laced their hands together once more. 'It's okay.'

The corner of her mouth twitched upward in a smile. 'Thanks.'

They were quiet for a very long time. Vin never took his eyes off her. This all seemed pretty surreal; the way her face was faintly illuminated by the distant phone light. She seemed so comfortable, so gentle, and . . . so beautiful, with the way her long eyelashes were dusting her cheeks, darkened with makeup, and the soft curve of her mouth, and her small, upturned nose. She was really something.

'Hey,' he whispered, gently brushing her cheekbone with the back of his hand. She opened her eyes and hummed softly.

'Hey.'

He traced his thumb down to the corner of her mouth, before smiling slightly. 'You're my best friend.'

It meant so much more than that.

She didn't say anything. Her lips parted slightly, and she squeezed her eyes shut as though she were having some sort of internal struggle. For a moment, Vin worried that she'd understood the full weight of his words, and that something was about to go seriously wrong, as it always did.

But then she reached out, slipped an arm around the back of his neck, and kissed him.

When someone knocked on Trixie's bedroom door in the middle of the night, her first thought was: murderer. Then she realised exactly how stupid that was, closed the page of true crime stories she had been reading, and armed herself with a precautionary slipper.

'Who is it?' she called tentatively, immediately cursing herself at how shaky she sounded.

There was another knock, followed by a heavy thump, before a quiet voice mumbled, 'It's - hic - me . . '

Trixie straightened up and frowned, dropping the slipper. 'Excuse me?' She crossed the room to the door and opened it a crack, peering out.

What greeted her was a muddy lump sprawled on the floor.

'Oh my God,' she muttered, stepping out into the hallway. 'Who is – Liz?'

Liz sat up a little and blinked confusedly, before squinting hard at Trixie. 'That . . . that's my room, ma'am' She attempted to point at Trixie's door, but somehow managed to smack herself in the face. 'Ugnnhh . . .'

Trixie folded her arms. 'Please explain to me why you are covered in mud.'

'. . . Fell.'

She tilted her head, noting how unfocused the smaller girl looked. She sighed. 'Aaaaaand you're drunk. Great.'

Liz scowled at her, before trying to wipe some of the mud off her face. She only managed to get it in her eyes. 'M not drunk.'

'Of course you aren't,' Trixie agreed absently, stepping out into the hallway and wrapping her dressing gown tighter around herself. 'Hon, what happened?'

Liz sighed forlornly. 'They're too smart for me, lady.' Her bottom lip trembled a bit. 'M never gonna go to college.'

'What?' That made no sense whatsoever, but Trixie supposed there was no point in listening to a drunk person. 'Liz, we've got to get you cleaned up, okay?'

'Okay,' she mumbled, nodding along. 'M'kay.'

With a sigh, she got Liz to her feet, before helping her stagger down the hall to the nearest bathroom – one that thankfully had a tub, and closed-off stalls for a little more dignity. Trixie locked the door behind them when they got there, because the last thing she wanted was for someone to walk in while Liz was this smashed. This was a level of vulnerability she felt shouldn't be witnessed by anyone else.

She set Liz down on the bath mat with strict orders to strip her mud-encrusted clothing while she filled up the tub, because she honestly didn't think the other girl was capable of standing up long enough to manage a shower.

Unfortunately, it appeared that drunk people couldn't really undress themselves.

'Trixieeeeeee . . .'

'What – oh dear.'

And so, Trixie had to rescue Liz from the depths of her shirt, which had gotten stuck in a very awkward position over her head.

Rather surprisingly, Trixie was quite accustomed to nudity. That happens when you travel as often as she has – you see sides of the world that aren't exactly your cup of tea. Regardless, she looked away as she stripped the other girl down and helped her into the tub. The last thing she wanted was to be accused of taking advantage of the situation. Once Liz was safely situated in the bath, she sat on the ground beside her and did her best to scrub away the dirt and silt with a washcloth.

'What were you doing outside at this hour?' she asked softly, one hand under Liz's jaw as she gently wiped the worst of it off her face.

Liz blinked slowly, before looking around as though to be sure no one else was there. Then, in a whisper Trixie supposed was intended to be conspiring, she said, 'I was running away.' She nodded seriously, before continuing. 'Then fell over 'n' wanted t'sleep.'

'Why were you running away?'

'She's gonna get me.'

Trixie paused, a sense of horror building in her gut. 'Who?'

'She's mad,' Liz continued. 'Cause I'm not doin' my job good.'

'Who?' Trixie repeated, now feeling slightly urgent.

Liz sighed, before shaking her head and nearly slipping backwards. 'Me,' she said, as though it were obvious. 'Me, me, me, me, me . . .'

And then, Trixie realised she was getting worried over the ramblings of a drunkard. 'Come on,' she said softly. 'Let's get you cleaned up, and you can sleep this off.'

She jumped in surprise with Liz then grabbed her arm, eyes wide with urgency. 'Don't leave,' she begged. 'Or she'll find me.'

'I won't go,' Trixie assured her. 'No one is going to hurt you.'

She sighed forlornly. 'He already did.'

Something in her gut lurched at that, and with a slight sense of horror, Trixie asked another question.

'How did . . . how did "he" hurt you?'

Liz didn't reply.

'Liz, honey? Did anyone . . . did someone touch you?'

She shook her head. 'He was gon' marry me . . .'

Trixie swallowed uncomfortably, now hyperaware that Liz definitely wouldn't be saying this if she were sober. 'I . . . I'm going to help you to bed, okay? A-and if you still want to tomorrow, you can talk to me about it. Capisce?'

'Capisce,' she mumbled, giving Trixie a lazy grin. 'Double capisce.'

'Though I really doubt that will be the case,' Trixie mumbled to herself, before pulling the bath plug and grabbing a nearby towel. She wrapped it around Liz like a dress and helped her totter to her feet, before taking a second towel and mopping up the worst of the water.

Liz was surprisingly steady when Trixie guided her back to her room, and was capable enough of pulling on a loose-fitting set of pyjamas. Once she was buried beneath several blankets and already starting to drift off, Trixie hesitated awkwardly, before bidding her goodbye with a hasty kiss on the forehead, and switching the light off.

They never talked about that night.

Safe to say, Vin's brain promptly short-circuited.

He had, for a fact, kissed many people in his lifetime. None of those occasions however, had been an emotional investment. None of those occasions had been in the middle of the night, after an entire day spent binge-watching The Lord of the Rings. None of those occasions had been Zero.

(Romeo and Juliet didn't count.)

He had gone prone with shock for a solid five seconds before he properly accepted that this was happening. Then he clumsily flung an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, responding with a level of enthusiasm that even took him by surprise. Was he supposed to do this? Was he allowed to do this? Would she punch him after, because she was Zero?

Then, he realised, he didn't care. If this was happening, it was happening, and he wasn't going to let it slip through his fingers.

She started to pull away, eyes wide as though she couldn't believe she'd had such a lapse in self-control, but Vin growled in indignation and dragged her straight back in.

In hindsight, it was a little embarrassing.

It was a long time before either of them came up for air. When that finally happened, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes a little wild.

'Vin,' she said, 'I don't know if this is a good idea.'

He scoffed. 'Since when have either of us had good ideas?'

She considered that thought for a moment. 'That's true.'

'Besides -' He leaned forward and kissed her again, deep and lingering. 'We're not exactly the sort of people to listen to reason.'

The corner of her mouth ticked up in a slight smirk. 'I guess not.'

Feeling cocky, he kissed once more. This time it didn't really stop, it just softened into something gentle; loving, almost. Vin hadn't intended to think of it that way, but he realised it was probably true.

Zero was generally a brash individual, hardened by years of struggle and shaped into someone who didn't trust easily. She didn't let herself be pushed around, and she rarely succumbed to any extreme emotion in public. Vin hadn't pegged her for someone who did things like this, either.

Though, what "this" meant was a bit subjective. He didn't know for himself.

She pulled away again, but this time only the slightest space was left between their mouths. Her eyes were scrunched up, as though she were forcing herself away.

'I've done awful things, Vin.'

'We already talked about this,' he said softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of her face. 'I know you have a past; we all do. But that doesn't change who you are now.'

She exhaled slowly, before opening her eyes again and looking directly into his. Her gaze was piercing, yet he didn't feel the need to look away. 'I don't believe a word you're saying,' she told him, 'but I appreciate the sentiment.' She smiled softly, albeit a little sadly. 'Thank you.'

'I promise I'm not going anywhere.'

She closed that space between them, pushing him back into the pillows and kissing him deeply. This time he was at least marginally prepared for the onslaught of emotions that hit him, and he could actually focus on what was going on. He settled his hands on her hips, quite content to let himself be kissed at whatever pace. He wasn't quite sure how this was supposed to work, but he didn't mind.

She seemed to know, however.

She paused long enough to yank at his shirt and say 'Off,' and Vin was happy enough to comply, tugging it haphazardly over his head and tossing it onto the floor. Then she leaned back a little with a scrutinising look, absently tracing over his abs with her fingertips.

'You already know you're pretty, so I'm not going to inflate your ego,' she told him with a knowing nod. When he pouted indignantly, she cracked a grin. 'Alright, I think you're pretty. Happy?'

'I'd rather "handsome", or "super-mega hot", but that'll do.'

She rolled her eyes. 'Picky.'

He grinned in return. 'Picky, but pretty.'

'True,' she agreed, before pulling off her tank top and grabbing his face between her hands, dragging him in for another kiss. It took Vin half a second longer to respond this time, because his brain had short-circuited once again.

What just happened?

Contrary to popular belief, Vin was actually a virgin. He had gotten a bit of a reputation over the years, but that was more because he was "devastatingly handsome" than anything else. He certainly hadn't seen a girl shirtless before, let alone slept with one.

Not that he was complaining, though.

'Are you sure about this?' he asked between kisses, because he was not about to be the kind of asshole who didn't check these things.

She paused long enough to roll her eyes again. 'I gave up on being sure a long time ago.' She kissed the corner of his jaw, before hesitantly asking, 'Are you?'

He looked at her for a moment. Her eyes were always so calculating, even in the current circumstances. She certainly wasn't stupid, despite what some people (complete jackasses, mind you) might say. 'Yeah,' he said softly. 'I'm sure.'

'Okay.' She brushed her thumb along his jawline, callouses catching slightly on the day-old stubble there. She swallowed, then nodded slightly, as though assuring herself. 'Okay.'

'We don't -' Whatever Vin was going to say – he didn't really know, to be honest – was cut off as she kissed him once more. His hands brushed her sharp hipbones, before skimming up along her stomach, which, as expected, was taut muscle.

She huffed a quiet laugh. 'Tickles,' she muttered, before catching his hands with her own and lacing their fingers.

He grinned. 'I forgot you were ticklish.'

'Don't you dare.'

'I might just . . .'

'Vin.'

'Alright, alright.'

Damn, she was beautiful.

10/12/2021