"You know, you need to tell someone at some point. Namely your fiance, but honestly, anyone else works. I need someone to talk about this with!" Dylan screeched, her wheels doing the same as she made a sharp turn and drove up the Monarch at Ridge Hill Apartment Complex's main entrance. She rolled her window down, handing the security guard Derrick's guest pass before the gates raised and her alfa romeo sped through.
Massie knew he lived here. It was his dream, after all. Or their dream, if she was being honest.
They spent nights dreaming of their lives in the future, her sitting at her daddy's office and him running up and down the green grass fields. She had people begging for her signature on contracts, he had people screaming his name on the stadium stands.
They had their own careers, separate and apart from each other. But, at night, they'd come home to the same place, the same penthouse apartment suite at Monarch Hill.
The one that overlooked the Hudson river, sparkling and gleaming and rushing in all its dark blue glory.
The penthouse had the most breathtaking view, the walkways lit by gas-light looking light posts that led the way to a private entrance on the river.
The suite was covered in shiny hardwood flooring, marble tiles and countertops, and up to date appliances.
Fit for the king and queen they started as, not the joker and the fool their relationship and immaturity crafted them into.
She'd always be home earlier than him, since he had his practices and games and press conferences after each one. Massie would most likely postmates their dinner, or if she got home from the office before six (a miracle, really) she planned on cooking a nice homemade dinner for the two of them.
He'd cook on weekends and his off season, and on saturday nights they would go out to one of the posh restaurants in Manhattan.
Oh, the dreams.
Massie quickly shook her head, ridding herself of all those late night conversations.
"Who should I tell? The mayor? Maybe my parents who are unbelievably smitten with him?" Massie snarked, immediately regretting her tone. "Sorry, it's just been really stressful. I shouldn't need saving in my own home, or my own relationship!"
Dylan took a deep, cleansing breath. "I know, and I know it's beyond frustrating. But, we can't keep this a secret forever. People will start speculating, people will start asking questions. You can't marry someone who's idea of resolving things is hitting you, then taking a beer to bed."
"I realize that, but what am I supposed to do in the meantime? How am I supposed to tell my parents? Just walk up to them and show them the scars?"
"There are scars?!" The redhead yelled, slamming on her brakes as she crookedly parked in a spot and turned to her friend. "You didn't tell me that! You said this was new!"
"I'm still coming to terms with it. I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth, Dyl, but you have to understand how traumatizing this is." The brunette began to pick at the strap on her Michael Kors Red Leather Greenwich Bag, signaling to Dylan that maybe this topic needed to be dropped for right now.
With a nod, the redhead turned her head to look out her windshield. "Well, you know where we are. I was thinking...I dunno, maybe you guys could give each other some fresh air or something. You guys were friends, I think you guys are at least, so…"
"We are, and we can. I just...you're right, I need to talk to someone about this before things get worse or you'll end up opening my bedroom door to a dead body soon."
"Do you think that Derrick would be one of those people to tell?"
"Do you?"
"Mass, if you're going to tell anyone, I think he would be the most helpful."
The brunette took a deep breath, not really liking the way his name made her insides turn. Was it out of hatred? No, she met the boy earlier that morning. If she hated him, she wouldn't of gone. So, what was the reason?
She was jolted out of her thoughts by Dylan opening the car doors, reaching in the back of her car seats and grabbing her white saint laurent calfskin shoulder bag. She nodded her head forward, gesturing towards the apartment entrance. With a sigh, Massie Block climbed out of the small car and shut the door with more force than necessary.
"Ugh, my poor car has dealt with so much slamming today!" Dylan pouted, running her manicured hand across the shiny red door before parting ways and pushing Massie toward the tall clear sliding doors of the main lobby.
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"You know I respect her on that level (on that level)
She don't want me then I'ma let her (let her)
Go over there with that broke fella"
Derrick couldn't understand what was happening. He felt like his head was spinning, and maybe it was. He was absolutely outraged by what was happening with Massie, and that someone could still look her and her family in the eye after doing this. Fuck that, the fact that he could even raise a hand to her made Derrick's stomach turn to flames.
He and Massie fought countless times over the course of their relationship, and even when they weren't in a relationship, yet he never even came close to becoming aggressive to her because that's not even what children do. He will admit he might've been very immature when it came to their relationship, but he was also raised to know better.
Shaking his head and letting his left hand run through his hair, he began typing with his right hand on his iphone screen, calling up Kemp. Gagging at the thought, but he knew it was necessary.
"Hurley!" Rang through the phone's speakers, and directly into Derrick's ears.
"Yes, moron. I know who I called."
"Oh gee, don't sound too thrilled. We both know you are."
"Shut up, Kemp. I need a favor."
"Why does everyone only call me because of favors?!"
"Maybe because you're an ass, still?"
"Possibly, I'll contemplate on that later when I'm baked. Anyway, what do you need, Der?"
"I need to see you, and I need your help with a plan Dylan and I made."
"What time?"
"Eight tonight, meet at my place."
"What's the attire for the evening?"
"It's not a threesome, Kemp. I don't give a fuck what you wear."
"Oh, okay. I must've misunderstood…..I'll be there."
"Why the fuck would I be having sex with Marvil?"
"I dunno, man. Redheads are pretty hot."
"Bye."
"Did you want me to bring the coke this time? Or, is this not one of those times either?"
"Dude!"
Somehow, the kid was still one of Derrick's main best friends. It isn't every day that you find someone as loyal as Kemp, someone who doesn't ask questions because they trust you enough.
Even though all the boys have their own issues and lives and careers, they always made time for each other. Whether it was at some of the local irish pubs after long days of work, meeting during their lunch breaks to blow off some steam at their park's astro turf soccer field, or even catching some coffee on the morning commute, they were always together to some extent.
But, Derrick knew that they all had their dark sides. They've all crossed each other in the past. Josh had moved in on Claire back when her and Cam were relevant to the group, which put a divide on them back in their middle school days. Plovert had kissed both Dylan and Massie at Connor Nolan's college graduation party, which had Derrick's head literally flying off his shoulders. Kristen had made out with Kemp in front of Plovert on many drunk nights they spent at Area 51 as a group freshman year of college, a bar themed after the notorious sacred/protected ground of the U.S. Military. Even Derrick would admit that the girls did look really hot in their little cadet outfits they wore there, Massie being the hottest, of course.
It was funny, though, how friends always figure out their differences. How they're always there for each other. Derrick hoped, prayed, and was prepared to beg for the rest of the guys to help Massie in this fucked up time of need. But, with all the bridges she burned, who knew who would? Some of the boys took the brunt of her temper, Derrick included.
Cam and her had it out after Alicia's wedding, when the two began to date again. Cam had been a close friend of Massie's after high school, remaining close during college and talking almost every week. When the two got back together, it was like a stab in the back to Massie.
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Derrick raised an eyebrow at the sudden commotion going on in front of him. The groomsmen were seated around the bridesmaids, which really felt like another day at lunch at Octavian Country Day. Both the Pretty Committee and the Tomahawk Soccer Boys were gathered together at the round dining table, directly next to the newly-married couples.
The room was covered in soft, white flowy drapes and bright touches of warm oranges, reds, and yellows brought life into the reception hall. The tables were topped with thick white table cloths, a line of green leaves running down the middle with rose gold glassware and silverware.
The Hotz' were standing up at their center table, eyes glued to the stage in horrification as Claire let loose into the microphone, beraging and insulting the two left and right as Dylan attempted to wrestle the microphone away from her.
Derrick's eyes, though, were locked on Massie and Cam's flailing arms as she continued to push and shove him to go up there and control his girlfriend.
"She's sick of them, Mass! You can't blame her!"
"At their wedding?! You're condoning this?!"
"She planned this!"
"Did you know about it?"
"I feel like I can't give you an answer."
"Then I feel like I can't give you a friendship, you fake as fuck liar! You are nothing more than the backstabbing loser you were in middle school! Sitting here, letting this happen! Ruining their one day of happiness! You make me sick, Cameron. You're cancelled."
The amber eyed female in front of Derrick flipped her loose fishtail braid over her right shoulder, shaking her head as her fists shook as well out of anger. Her eyes were holding a special kind of fire that he hadn't seen in years. If he was on the receiving end, he'd be sunk. Kemp and Plovert ran to the stage to help Dylan cart Claire off, handing her off to the security team Josh had hired who then removed her from the building.
"Oh, so now you're just going to try and bully me like you did to everyone else in school?"
"Oh, go to hell, Cam. Your through-and-through thick headed, rude as ever girlfriend will be there waiting for you by the time I'm done with her."
"That's your problem, Mass. You blame everyone else! Maybe Alicia and Josh deserved it!"
"You must be on drugs again, Fish. I can't even believe what I'm hearing come out of your mouth!"
Alicia ran out of the room before the couple could even have their first toast.
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Derrick was in the middle of stirring the agave into his third cup of coffee of the day when his front door slammed open. When he heard two pairs of footsteps, he poked his head through his kitchen doorway. His coffee splashed onto the hardwood, seeing Massie Fucking Block standing in the middle of his living room. Well, this wasn't a sight he ever dreamed of setting his eyes on. Unless you consider his late night thoughts, which was usually accompanied with a box of tissues and an ice cold beer.
"Are you going to clean that up? The acidity is going to burn through the wax." Massie sputtered out, feeling the same amount of unsteadiness as he did. It was weird, it felt like one part normal mixed with three parts of what the fuck are we doing?
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I am. Good idea." Derrick muttered, taking his eyes off of Massie and grabbing a dish towel from one of the cabinets inside his kitchen. He made his way back towards the spill in the doorway, bending down to wipe it up and collect his thoughts. The brunette watched as his back and arm muscles contracted.
Clearing her throat, Dylan began to attempt at civil conversation. "I, for one, think that hot coffee is for masochists. But, alas, Derrick refuses to admit he enjoys painful situations."
Silence met the three. This morning was a different story. This morning, they talked and they joked and reminisced. They had both dreamed of that moment, but not of this one, not of what follows after. That wasn't included in the blue print either of them had dreamed up over the past four years.
Derrick tossed the used rag into the sink, knowing that later he'll throw it in to be washed. For some reason, though, he felt rooted in his place. He felt like a specimen, like he was being examined under a microscope with the intent Massie was staring at him like. He stood up straight, his back rigid, his shoulders rolled forward.
Slowly, she began to make her way towards where he was standing.
Did she know he was shaking? Probably not, considering she was too.
Her plump lips were pulled into a straight line, and her usually fiery amber eyes were a mere flicker. Massie's face was blank and expressionless, allowing him to read nothing into what she was doing or how she was feeling.
Derrick gulped, preparing himself for a slap across the cheek, in typical Massie style. How many times had she done that? He honestly lost track.
Derrick and Massie were behind the bleachers of Briarwood Octavian Country Day, doing a mix of fighting and making out, as per usual.
"I just don't see the significance. Who cares what Skye Hamilton says? Everyone knows she's cancelled." Derrick Harrington murmured, as he began pressing kisses down the soft skin of Massie's neck, mentally cringing at the fact that he actually said cancelled.
"I do! I could lose my spot as alpha if I don't watch her! You know she's out to destroy me," Massie purred, leaning up and tugging on a few curls of his.
"Like I am?"
Slap.
"I didn't mean it like that, Block! The fuck?"
"I'm so sorry!" She jumped, pressing her hand against his cheek and kissing the red spots. "I just couldn't help it!"
"You are such an asshole!" A seventeen year old Massie Block yelled in Derrick Harrington's face at the Briarwood Octavian Country Day Championship game. She had come down here, sat through the miserably boring game for him, and what did he do? Ignore her afterwards!
"Mass, come on. I was distracted!"
"Yeah, but not distracted enough to not notice any of the girls around you! Just me, the girl you said you'd always love!"
"I just didn't see you!"
"I SAW YOU KISS HER, DERRICK."
Silence.
"I'm not stupid!" Massie shouted in his face, as tears began to fall down her bronzed cheeks and disrupt her thick winged liner. "There's been rumors going around for weeks! I just thought you were better than that!"
Slap.
"Put me down!"
"No."
"Put me down!"
"No."
"I can do this all day, Derrick!"
"So can I, no."
"I can't believe you're doing this!" Block yelled through hiccups, hitting his strong back as the man carried her through Kemp's foyer.
"I can't believe you were going to let yourself get taken advantage of by Dempsey Fucking Soloman! High school has been over for a while, sweetheart! We're twenty two!"
Slap.
Her flats clicked against the hardwood flooring as she stood in front of him, her smaller frame merely a shadow standing in his tall, daunting self. Derrick took a deep breath, then looked down at her and watched as she raised one of her french manicured hands and rested it on his cheek. It was soft and supple, and it brought back a flooding of memories he had tried so fucking hard these past few years to suppress. His cheek already stung, what with the blush crawling up his neck and settling where her hand was. It must've warmed her hand, because Massie gave him a weak smile before breaking down in his living room.
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Massie laid curled up on his leather living room couch, a New York City FC hoodie about two sizes too big swallowing her frame, a fuzzy grey sherpa blanket draped over her legs, and a steaming hot mug in her hands. Oh, and an irate Derrick Harrington holding her steady in his lap as she spilled it all to him and Dylan, who sat opposite them on the matching loveseat.
Her face was bright red, showing the trail of angry tears that slid down her cheeks as she spoke.
"I am so sorry I never told you the truth, Dylan. I just...I was so fucking
scared! I didn't know what he would do, I just live with this fucking hold over me like a vice grip! It's sick and it's twisted and I wish I told you sooner," Massie sniffled, leaning her head into Derrick's shoulder.
"Massie, you don't have to apologize. I get it, and I'm not mad. I just...how long has this been happening for?" The redhead asked, a pit in her stomach forming making her rethink wanting to know the answer.
"The past year. When his father died last December, it crushed him and he spiraled and I guess….I guess he took it out on me, and it helped the first time, so he kept doing it. I'm so fucking scared," she whispered, making Derrick tighten his grip on her.
Dylan could tell that Derrick was still attempting to process things in his head. Neither of them were ready to hear the full extent of abuse their loved one went through, but they also needed to know. "Mass, you said there's scars. Where?" She tried her best to keep her voice low and calm.
"You don't have to show us." Derrick quickly added, taking his left hand and rubbing small circles into the middle of her back. "If you don't want to revisit that, we get it."
The brunette merely shrugged, blinking her dull eyes up at Derrick. For once, he saw pain inside of those golden eyes, and the pit in his stomach ignited into flames. "Where is he?" He practically spat, though his hands continued to rub her back in soothing circles.
"Derrick, no. No one can know you guys know, no one can know it even happens!" Massie squealed, her body visibly tensing at the thought.
"So...are you just planning on marrying him, then?" Derrick asked the question Dylan had avoided asking for so long. Her green eyes widened, watching the dynamic between the two alphas in the room, sharing a couch, cuddling while her engagement ring glitters on Massie's hand.
Everyone always knew her and Derrick would find their way back.
Massie's eyes darted from the boy next to her to the girl in front of her, willing for an answer. When they both remained quiet, the brunette gave a dull shrug. "We haven't gotten that far, yet. I don't really know what I'm supposed to do."
"Well, you have to keep appearances up for the party, at least." Dylan reminded her. "All of Westchester will be there, so if we really want to embarrass him and fuck him up, it won't be there. They need to like him, first. We need to show people how long this has been going on for, and who he really is, just in a different setting."
"For the party, you need to act like nothing's wrong." Derrick murmured, pressing a small kiss to the top of her head. His lips immediately felt like they caught fire, and chills were sent down Massie's spine. She let a sound of agreement ring through her throat, leaning back into his chest and turning her head to face Dylan.
"Someone better keep the knives away from me, then." She advised Dylan, who couldn't bite back her loud chuckle.
"So, are we feeling cyanide?" The redhead gave a wicked grin before pulling her phone out. "I bet Kemp has some I can steal."
"What would he need that for?"
"It's better you don't ask, Mass."
The chestnut haired girl nodded, lifting her hands and rubbing them over her face after she set down her now empty mug on the cherry wood coffee table. She had cried her makeup off earlier in their conversation, so now she was just relishing in the fact that she could afford to touch her face without messing it up. Thanking the Vogue God's above that she always kept her makeup basics in her purse, she cleared her throat. "So….can we go shopping now?"