Chapter Twelve: Black Eyes, Blue Tears
Author's Note: I don't know when this fic is going to be over... it never ends! Actually, there will probably only be a few more chapters now... we're approaching the end. *sniffle*
Another angsty chapter... darker than most.
* * *
The last performance went smoothly, even more so than the first night. Of course, that was because the Argentinean hadn't fainted behind stage seconds before he was supposed to be on, like he had opening night. After the cast call, everyone seemed ready to go home and relax before Prom the next night.
Everyone, that is, except for Tina. She had accepted her fate, but still couldn't find the strength to face it. She stared after Chris' car as he drove away, Henry standing by her side. "He hasn't spoken once to me," she noted mournfully.
Henry patted her hand. "It will work out, Tina."
She gave him a sad half-smile. "You keep saying that. How are you so sure?"
He placed a hand on his chest. "I feel it in hea'."
"Thank you, Henry." She bent down and kissed his cheek. "I've gotta go now. Mike's expecting me at his house." She shuddered suddenly at the thought, but when Henry looked worriedly at her, she just smiled. "Getting cold out here, isn't it?"
"Yeth." He watched her with sad eyes as she ran off towards her car, then slowly made his way to his own. He had a bad feeling about tonight, but he couldn't quite place why. Something was going to happen. There was a different sort of storm brewing tonight.
* * *
Satine pulled up in front of Mike's house a half-hour later. She ran to the front door, clutching her bag of clothes to change from her costume. Mike opened the door a few moments after she rang the bell. With a crooked smile he pulled her inside, pinning her against the wall and kissing her deeply. He tongue invaded her mouth and she fought the urge to retch, kissing him back instead.
He broke the kiss and smiled at her. "My parents aren't home tonight, baby. I've got champagne." He gestured to the huge fireplace. In front of the burning fire was a black leather couch. Two classes of champagne sat on a table next to it.
"Sexy," she purred. "Let me get changed, love. This costume is awful."
"I agree. Hurry back, babe." He smacked her rear end as she passed, then went over to the table and took a long swig of his drink, refilling it from a bottle on the floor. He turned to stare into the fire, watching the dancing flames that reminded him quite strongly of Tina's hair.
* * *
Tina stared into the mirror, fighting back more tears. She wore a form-fitting black skirt and a low-cut sleeveless top. Her vibrant red hair fell down in rippling waves around her. She played with a curl nervously. He wanted sex. Tonight.
She almost laughed at herself. She sounded like a virgin. It wasn't like she hadn't slept with him before, after all. It wouldn't be any different than the last time. Why was she so worried? "Chris..." How could she do this to him?
Do what to him? It wasn't like they were a couple! They'd never even dated. They kissed. Wow. What was a kiss anymore? She was Mike's girlfriend, she shouldn't feel guilty for sleeping with him? She wasn't cheating on anyone.
She touched up her makeup to hide the circles under her eyes that came from crying herself to sleep the night before. She took a deep breath and noticed that her hands were shaking. God, what was wrong with her?! Just get in there and get it over with!
She left her stuff in the bathroom, smoothed her skirt, and made her way to the living room. Mike stood by the fireplace and looked up as she glided into the room. She smiled, speaking airily. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting."
He stared at her. "Not at all." He seated himself on the couch, motioning for her to join him. "Champagne?" he offered.
"Thank you." She clutched the glass. Within a minute, the bubbling liquid was gone, and her hand stopped shaking. He refilled the glass with a smile.
He scooted closer to her. "How was the performance?" From the direction of his stare, he seemed more concerned with her chest than the performance."
"It went well, thanks. I missed you," she lied.
"Missed you too." Somehow, he got closer to her with every word. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her roughly. She forced herself to return his kisses and surrender her body to his forceful hands. She stared over his shoulder as he kissed her, wishing to be anywhere but here... wishing to be with Chris.
He pulled her onto his lap so that she was straddling him and tugged her shirt over her head. His lips began to make a trail down her neck, kissing her alabaster skin, caressing her collarbone. She shuddered with disgust, but he mistook it for desire. "I know you want me, babe, I know."
No you don't, she thought. No one knows. Mechanically, she began to undo his shirt, revealing his muscled chest. Once, she had thought of it as a turn on. Not anymore. She ran her hands over him, trailing her nails across his tanned skin. How much more would she be able to fake?
He shrugged off his shirt and turned so that she was now under him as he continued his trail of kisses. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye. "No," she whispered.
He stopped, glancing up at her. "What did you say?"
She sat up, pulling away from him to the corner of the couch. "I said no." Her voice was a bit more confident.
"What's wrong, babe? I've got protection." She didn't answer. "I told you my parents aren't coming home. No one will know." He reached for her again, but she pushed away his eager hands.
"No." She stood up, reaching for her top.
He grabbed her arm, bending it roughly backwards and pulling her back onto the couch. "Don't you tell me no, bitch."
Her breath caught. "Mike..."
"You're mine!" His voice was low and calm. "You'll do what I tell you to."
"Let me go, Mike... you're hurting me... Mike... please..."
He forced himself on her, quickly pulling her skirt off. She whimpered underneath him, her eyes wide and frightened. He paused to take his pants off, and she bolted, running from the room. He screamed after her, thrusting the bottle of champagne at her. It shattered against the wall as it closed behind her.
Quickly, he followed her, chasing her down the halls of the enormous house. She ran blindly, not knowing where she was going. Then her eye caught a phone in a bedroom. She ducked inside the door, shutting and locking it behind her. He pounded on the door, screaming at her as she dialed. She could think of only one person to call, and she prayed he was home. The phone rang once... twice... three times... the answering machine picked up.
Tears streamed down her face as she waited, shaking more and more each time Mike yelled at her. "Chris," she whimpered into the reciever. "Please pick up... please, Chris... I'm so sorry about everything... please help me... help... God, help me."
The door burst open and within seconds, Mike was on top of her. He slammed the phone back down on the hook and picked her up bodily. He threw her down on the mattress of the bed and climbed on top of her. She tried to shrink away from him, sinking down into the bedding in the futile hope that the bed would simply swallow her up. It didn't.
His hot breath smelled strongly of champagne as he brought his face within inches of hers. "No one's going to help you. You're mine."
END CHAPTER TWELVE
Author's Note: I don't know when this fic is going to be over... it never ends! Actually, there will probably only be a few more chapters now... we're approaching the end. *sniffle*
Another angsty chapter... darker than most.
* * *
The last performance went smoothly, even more so than the first night. Of course, that was because the Argentinean hadn't fainted behind stage seconds before he was supposed to be on, like he had opening night. After the cast call, everyone seemed ready to go home and relax before Prom the next night.
Everyone, that is, except for Tina. She had accepted her fate, but still couldn't find the strength to face it. She stared after Chris' car as he drove away, Henry standing by her side. "He hasn't spoken once to me," she noted mournfully.
Henry patted her hand. "It will work out, Tina."
She gave him a sad half-smile. "You keep saying that. How are you so sure?"
He placed a hand on his chest. "I feel it in hea'."
"Thank you, Henry." She bent down and kissed his cheek. "I've gotta go now. Mike's expecting me at his house." She shuddered suddenly at the thought, but when Henry looked worriedly at her, she just smiled. "Getting cold out here, isn't it?"
"Yeth." He watched her with sad eyes as she ran off towards her car, then slowly made his way to his own. He had a bad feeling about tonight, but he couldn't quite place why. Something was going to happen. There was a different sort of storm brewing tonight.
* * *
Satine pulled up in front of Mike's house a half-hour later. She ran to the front door, clutching her bag of clothes to change from her costume. Mike opened the door a few moments after she rang the bell. With a crooked smile he pulled her inside, pinning her against the wall and kissing her deeply. He tongue invaded her mouth and she fought the urge to retch, kissing him back instead.
He broke the kiss and smiled at her. "My parents aren't home tonight, baby. I've got champagne." He gestured to the huge fireplace. In front of the burning fire was a black leather couch. Two classes of champagne sat on a table next to it.
"Sexy," she purred. "Let me get changed, love. This costume is awful."
"I agree. Hurry back, babe." He smacked her rear end as she passed, then went over to the table and took a long swig of his drink, refilling it from a bottle on the floor. He turned to stare into the fire, watching the dancing flames that reminded him quite strongly of Tina's hair.
* * *
Tina stared into the mirror, fighting back more tears. She wore a form-fitting black skirt and a low-cut sleeveless top. Her vibrant red hair fell down in rippling waves around her. She played with a curl nervously. He wanted sex. Tonight.
She almost laughed at herself. She sounded like a virgin. It wasn't like she hadn't slept with him before, after all. It wouldn't be any different than the last time. Why was she so worried? "Chris..." How could she do this to him?
Do what to him? It wasn't like they were a couple! They'd never even dated. They kissed. Wow. What was a kiss anymore? She was Mike's girlfriend, she shouldn't feel guilty for sleeping with him? She wasn't cheating on anyone.
She touched up her makeup to hide the circles under her eyes that came from crying herself to sleep the night before. She took a deep breath and noticed that her hands were shaking. God, what was wrong with her?! Just get in there and get it over with!
She left her stuff in the bathroom, smoothed her skirt, and made her way to the living room. Mike stood by the fireplace and looked up as she glided into the room. She smiled, speaking airily. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting."
He stared at her. "Not at all." He seated himself on the couch, motioning for her to join him. "Champagne?" he offered.
"Thank you." She clutched the glass. Within a minute, the bubbling liquid was gone, and her hand stopped shaking. He refilled the glass with a smile.
He scooted closer to her. "How was the performance?" From the direction of his stare, he seemed more concerned with her chest than the performance."
"It went well, thanks. I missed you," she lied.
"Missed you too." Somehow, he got closer to her with every word. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her roughly. She forced herself to return his kisses and surrender her body to his forceful hands. She stared over his shoulder as he kissed her, wishing to be anywhere but here... wishing to be with Chris.
He pulled her onto his lap so that she was straddling him and tugged her shirt over her head. His lips began to make a trail down her neck, kissing her alabaster skin, caressing her collarbone. She shuddered with disgust, but he mistook it for desire. "I know you want me, babe, I know."
No you don't, she thought. No one knows. Mechanically, she began to undo his shirt, revealing his muscled chest. Once, she had thought of it as a turn on. Not anymore. She ran her hands over him, trailing her nails across his tanned skin. How much more would she be able to fake?
He shrugged off his shirt and turned so that she was now under him as he continued his trail of kisses. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye. "No," she whispered.
He stopped, glancing up at her. "What did you say?"
She sat up, pulling away from him to the corner of the couch. "I said no." Her voice was a bit more confident.
"What's wrong, babe? I've got protection." She didn't answer. "I told you my parents aren't coming home. No one will know." He reached for her again, but she pushed away his eager hands.
"No." She stood up, reaching for her top.
He grabbed her arm, bending it roughly backwards and pulling her back onto the couch. "Don't you tell me no, bitch."
Her breath caught. "Mike..."
"You're mine!" His voice was low and calm. "You'll do what I tell you to."
"Let me go, Mike... you're hurting me... Mike... please..."
He forced himself on her, quickly pulling her skirt off. She whimpered underneath him, her eyes wide and frightened. He paused to take his pants off, and she bolted, running from the room. He screamed after her, thrusting the bottle of champagne at her. It shattered against the wall as it closed behind her.
Quickly, he followed her, chasing her down the halls of the enormous house. She ran blindly, not knowing where she was going. Then her eye caught a phone in a bedroom. She ducked inside the door, shutting and locking it behind her. He pounded on the door, screaming at her as she dialed. She could think of only one person to call, and she prayed he was home. The phone rang once... twice... three times... the answering machine picked up.
Tears streamed down her face as she waited, shaking more and more each time Mike yelled at her. "Chris," she whimpered into the reciever. "Please pick up... please, Chris... I'm so sorry about everything... please help me... help... God, help me."
The door burst open and within seconds, Mike was on top of her. He slammed the phone back down on the hook and picked her up bodily. He threw her down on the mattress of the bed and climbed on top of her. She tried to shrink away from him, sinking down into the bedding in the futile hope that the bed would simply swallow her up. It didn't.
His hot breath smelled strongly of champagne as he brought his face within inches of hers. "No one's going to help you. You're mine."
END CHAPTER TWELVE
