Hi everyone! I'm so sorry this has taken so long to go up. I kept trying to write it, but I couldn't piece things together in a way that would work. I also wanted to keep things from the first version. There was a lot more that was going to go in this chapter, but I have to save some stuff for later chapters right?
So, I'm deciding to change up the rotation, and I'm going to have Tori in the rotation until the very end instead of just being all bleh and cutting her out because it's only fair (even though I'm thinking way too much about fairness to imaginary TV people).
I changed dates to make them more accurate and I'm going to go back into the first story and edit those dates as well.
I'm not sure how long it'll be until I get Jade's chapter up, but thank you so much to those who are reviewing, favoriting, and following. You guys mean so much to me!
-Sky
"Chapter 2 – 21 Guns"
"When you're at the end of the road, and you lost all sense of control, and your thoughts have taken their toll, when your mind breaks the spirit of your soul, your faith walks on broken glass and the hangover doesn't pass." – Green Day
Kiss me.
Run your hands along my thighs.
Drag your teeth up and down my neck.
Call me dirty names like I like it. Tell me I'm a bad girl. Say that I'm yours and no one else's. Pull me closer to you.
Be my everything.
She would often dream of her skin pressed against her boyfriend's. That was the only way she could do it, really. He would always touch her in her dreams, always tell her he loved her whenever she wanted. He would do whatever he could to please her, even if it wasn't sex since she didn't really like it that much.
In her dreams, he was perfect.
But this wasn't a dream. This was reality, and Tori Vega's reality involved her lying in bed—alone—while Andre was probably knocked out on the couch. Last month, he got picked up by a music producer and he'd been working on demo tapes nonstop.
I can't stop, he'd said. I gotta finish these songs!
Pop, rock, EDM, just name it and he would be working on it. He was writing lyrics around the clock, syncing them up with the music he made on his laptop's piano extension. He ignored her and their son, and the only time he gave her the time of day was so he could ask her to sing the vocals on some of his songs. Those ten minutes that she spent helping him record were the longest she'd spent with him since he'd been picked up.
'Lonely' was just the tip of the iceberg for her. She rarely left her house since her mom did all the grocery shopping. She opted out of getting a job, even part time, so she could focus on her schoolwork. Even though all thoughts of college flew out the window when she found out she was pregnant—not that she really wanted to go anyway—she enrolled in an online university to make her parents happy. She rarely saw her friends from high school; they had their own kids to worry about. She had very little human contact aside from her parents and occasionally Trina—she'd only met her sister's boyfriend, Blake, once or twice.
She imagined it would get worse after the label signed him.
She wondered if this is what broke up Pete Wentz and Ashlee Simpson.
With a sigh, Tori rolled onto her side, resting her hand between her head and the pillow, and stared into her son's crib. The crib would start out in Trina's old room where it was supposed to be as it had become the nursery once she moved out, before his mom would get paranoid during the night and roll the crib into her room and place it by her bed.
She wished she could be like her son; it was as if he didn't have a care in the world. And why would he? He was only two. He wouldn't remember anything until after he turned three, according to the baby book she read when she was pregnant with him. He didn't know that Andre didn't give him attention, and he wouldn't remember even if he did. She knew that he knew his mother loved him, and that would be all that mattered for now.
Every time she looked at her son—the long curve of his nose, his prominent brows, the downward curve in his upper eyelids—she was certain that Andre would see that there wasn't a hint of his DNA in the precious baby.
And she was right.
After Antonio's first birthday, Andre began to notice. The baby's skin was too light. Tori's skin had a hazel hue, so there was no Andre's dark complexion could make a creamy-toned baby like Antonio; he should at least be a cinnamon or chestnut baby. Antonio didn't have any of his father-in-question's facial features, no birthmarks that could have spawned from Andre, and his hair texture was nowhere near what Latino/black hair could have been.
There were no other men in Tori's life besides her father and occasionally Beck and Robbie, and she wasn't a very good liar, so he didn't think she was cheating on him. He highly doubted that she could have gone out and found a guy to sleep with; she wasn't the type to get intimate early on in a relationship, and she wasn't one to keep her relationships a secret. He also doubted that it could be Danny since they hadn't had contact in three years.
He also…wasn't entirely sure she loved him, not in the way he loved her. Their sex life was virtually nonexistent. The first time they had sex—when he supposedly got her pregnant—she seemed like she couldn't get comfortable with him. When Antonio was about twenty months, they tried again, and she just seemed…disinterested in sex with him.
He knew that a couple didn't have to prove they loved each other by having sex, but it felt like he didn't turn her on. And if he didn't, someone else would. It worried him. In the back of his mind, the thought that she could be using him so she wouldn't have to raise a baby alone plagued him. Maybe she was just waiting for someone better to come along and he was just her safety net. But how could be bring that up to her?
Hey, so I figured out that your baby isn't mine and I'm pretty pissed that you're just using me so you won't be alone since I don't think you love me.
It seemed simple enough, but he couldn't force himself to say that to her. Only some heartless subhuman could say something like that. And what else was he supposed to do? He fell in love with her when she first came to Hollywood Arts, and he'd invested all his time with her. He even moved in with her at her parents' home after graduation, planning on saving up money so they could get a house like Beck and Jade did. His entire life was devoted to her and their kid.
His entire life was devoted to a lie.
He wanted her to tell him the truth, that Antonio wasn't his. But, he knew he would believe her if she said she was positive that the little boy was his. Otherwise, he wouldn't have dedicated the last three years of his life to her.
So when he got picked up by Macabre Records, he decided that he would continue to work towards getting a house. He would put his blood, sweat, and tears into the tracks so he would get somewhere with his music. Then, he hoped that she would finally come clean. If she didn't, he would man up and tell her that he wanted a paternity test. When the results came back negative, which he was sure they would, he would ask her if she knew.
Surely, she would.
So if she tried to lie to him, he would leave her. As much as it would kill him, he would leave her and her son. He wouldn't care if Antonio was someone else's son, just as long as Tori was up front about it. If they couldn't be honest with each other, then the relationship wouldn't last.
He needed to be able to trust her.
Nothing's ever built to last. You're in ruins.
Tori took in a deep breath as she hoisted her son onto her hip. She was glad they'd widened after she gave birth; she'd seen her hipless boyfriend try to carry Antonio, and she could see the discomfort on both of their faces. Her post-baby curves made her feel a little more confident, but Andre's neglect took that confidence away.
So she had to fix it.
She lifted her chin up and tried to muster as much confidence as she could as she walked up to Beck and Jade's house. She hadn't been here in a few months, nor had she talked to Jade, so maybe this wouldn't be a hostile visit.
As she stepped up to the front door and prepared to ring the doorbell, she hoped that Jade would be able to help her. Even if she was mean with her 'advice,' Jade more than likely would help her. It was just a matter of if she could do whatever Jade would suggest.
A few seconds after ringing the doorbell, Cat opened the door and smiled lazily. "Hey, Tori," she greeted, followed by a small giggle.
Tori raised an eyebrow in confusion. "H-hey, Cat," she returned. She looked her old friend over, taking in her…unusual sight. Her normally pin-straight hair was curled at the tips and frizzy—on the verge of unruly. Her clothes were disheveled, like she couldn't put them on right. She wore black leggings, but the right side of them weren't even over her bottom, causing them to be bunched up at her knee. She wore a white shirt that was obviously way too big for her, hanging off her left shoulder to expose one of her twisted bra straps. She also only wore one bunny slipper. "Are…are you okay?"
The little redhead smiled lazily. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"W-well," the Latina stammered. She shook her head. "Never mind. Is Jade home? I need to talk to her."
Cat reached out and tickled Antonio's bare feet. "Hi, Tony," she cooed as the little boy giggled.
Tori furrowed her brow but looked to her son as he pressed his face into her shoulder and hid behind her hair. "Say hi to Cat," she ordered softly. "You remember Cat."
The little boy peaked out from his mother's hair and quickly waved at the woman in front of him before quickly hiding back behind long brown locks.
Cat snickered and brought her hand to her mouth to hide it. Her depth perception, however, was off and she slapped herself, overdramatically wiping her hand up her face and scrunching her nose. She blinked in confusion, as if what she did couldn't register. Her chocolate eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment, but then she shook it away and looked at the mother-son duo in the doorway with a curious stare. "Can he talk yet?"
Tori nodded with a worried look. "It's just random words and small phrases right now," she answered hesitantly, "But he can say my name; he calls me that instead of 'Mama.' Andre doesn't really like it, but I think it's cute." She pursed her lips. "Listen…if Jade's not here, I can just come back later."
Cat's eyes widened and she gasped. Her hands shot out to grab Tori's arms, and she pulled the Latina and her son inside. "No, no!" she cried, stumbling over her feet as she stepped backward. "I never get to see you anymore! How's Andre? It's been so long since we talked!"
"I know," Tori sighed. "We've both just been really busy lately; he's putting a lot of focus on his music and I'm putting a lot of effort into taking care of mi angelito."
The redhead gasped in wonder. "What does that mean?"
"'My little angel,'" the taller girl responded as she tousled his messy black hair.
The little boy looked up and spotted the twins playing with Cassie in their playpen in the corner by the kitchen. He started to wiggle in his mom's grasp. "Play!" he cried. "Play with baby!"
Tori smiled softly and walked over to the other three toddlers. She gently set her son down beside Jensen, and the little West-Oliver boy quickly welcomed the new addition by handing him a toy airplane. "So is there any reason why Jade's son's wearing a dress?"
"That's all he'll keep on," the Valentine girl retorted with a small smile after a quick, slightly startling, cackle. She waved it off and threw herself off balance, falling onto the length of the couch. "He just rips everything else but his diaper off!"
Still put off by her friend's weird behavior, Tori turned back to the toddlers and gently played with Darla's nose. "You must be the only normal one in this house, Miss Darla," she quipped quietly.
The little girl looked up when she heard her name and smiled before giving her full attention back to the toy fire truck in her hands.
The Latina sighed after a small smile and stood up, turning around to Cat who played with her hair as she lay on the couch. Her leg hung off the sofa and she swung it slowly, her slipper a few feet from the edge of the couch. Tori wanted to leave, but having Antonio play with the other children would be good for him, considering he hadn't seen them in months.
Taking in a deep breath, she walked over to the couch and moved Cat's legs so she could sit down. The other mother simply sat slumped into the cushion, apparently unfazed. "Can…can I ask you something, Cat?" She came for advice, and hopefully the strange-acting redhead could give her some.
The petite girl jumped upright onto the couch and tucked her legs beneath her, looking Tori straight in the eyes, trying to be serious. She started snickering again and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry," she apologized when she regained her composure. "Of course you can. Why would you even ask that?"
Tori looked back down at her hands and sighed. "I just…don't know who to talk to about this," she mumbled. She looked up at Cat with sad eyes. "Andre…I'm worried about him…"
Cat gasped and held slapped her chest as she tried to hold her heart. She visibly fought back oncoming giggles. "Is he sick?"
Tori shook her head and stood up. She began to pace around the room, wringing her hands and looking at her feet. "Do you have any idea of what I can do to get his attention back?" she asked pleadingly. "We haven't even…hugged in six months." Her eyebrows rose on the emphasized word to signal that it was a code word for something else.
Cat gasped again. "That's a long time to go without hugging!" she cried.
Tori bit her lip. "You know I don't really mean hugging, right?" she clarified uneasily.
Cat looked confused. "So, you two still hug, right? Everyone needs to be hugged…"
"Well…not really," Tori answered looking away, "But I mean…we haven't been…intimate."
Cat stood up and threw her arms down dramatically. "You can't say that in front of the babies!" she hissed. "You'll make them think bad thoughts!"
Tori rolled her eyes and walked over to the toddlers to pick Antonio up. He struggled a little, reaching out to Jensen, but she held him tightly. "I should go," she said in annoyance. "I'm sorry I brought anything up." So much for getting advice. Maybe she should just talk to her mom. Or, worst case scenario, her sister.
"But why don't you try harder to make him do the stuff you used to do before the baby was born?" Cat suggested, sitting back down, her face completely serious.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, why don't you try to distract him from his music?" the petite mom threw out. "Jade says that guys all want the same thing, so try doing whatever that thing is. You could try hugging him more…but give him special hugs. Beck and Jade still go on dates, so try getting him to go on one with you. I bet your mommy would babysit for you! Jade likes to dress up for Beck sometimes in these really cute outfits—but they're still kinda scary—and they make Beck happy."
Tori smiled brightly. "That's a great idea, Cat!" she exclaimed. "Thanks so much."
"You're welcome," Cat smiled. "I hope everything works for you!"
Tori opened her mouth to say something else when Antonio started fidgeting in her arms. He started tugging on her hair and she let out a small pained noise before unlocking his tiny fingers from her brunette locks. "Someone's cranky," she cooed as she tapped Antonio's nose. He whined softly, scrunching his face up like he was preparing to cry. "He hasn't been sleeping well, lately," she announced. "But the family doctor said that we should let him sleep whenever he needs to; his schedule will work itself out. He tried sleeping in the car, but the ride wasn't very smooth. I'll see you later, Cat."
"Bye, bye!" Cat parted, waving off the pair.
Nothing's ever built to last. You're in ruins.
Tori wasn't as quiet as she thought she was when she left her house that morning, so she inevitably woke Andre up. She could cross 'master sleuth' off her resume.
Like any other day, he pulled himself up off the couch and went to the cabinet beside the fridge to get some Aleve for the pounding headache he had. He needed to sleep in a bed like a normal person if wanted to avoid seeing a chiropractor, but that required talking to his girlfriend about something he wasn't ready to discuss.
That, and the bed that used to be in the basement had been given to Trina and her boyfriend as an apartment warming present.
Today, he thought he'd make himself a decent breakfast instead of his regular bowl of Honey Cluster Crunch Bomb's.
Eggs sounded good…
As he pulled the bottle of aspirin out of the cabinet, he brought Antonio's jar of formula mix down with it, spilling the contents onto his black night shirt. "Crap," he hissed, looking down at the empty jar and the mess that surrounded it on the floor. He sighed, looking at his shirt. A large amount of milky dust resonated over the Hollywood Arts logo. He tried wiping it away, but simply smeared it in.
With a groan, he went down into the basement to grab the broom and returned quickly to clean up the mess. After discarding it into the trash, he put the broom by the fridge and went to Tori's room to grab her dirty clothes. Her mom would get mad at him if he wasted water on one shirt, and he was currently wearing his favorite night shirt. It was either that, or no shirt at all. And that would be disrespectful if he continued to sleep on the couch.
Once in Tori's room, he looked around for his wallet. If he hurried, he could buy more formula before she got back so she wouldn't know anything happened. If anything, he could trust her to make sure his wallet was safe, but he couldn't trust her to come clean about her child.
How messed up was that?
Normally, he left the wallet on the nightstand, but it wasn't there. He pulled open the drawer, but it wasn't there either. He didn't remember just tossing it on the floor, and he doubted Tori would let it get there since the baby could get it, so he went over to her desk in the corner where she usually did her school work. Sifting through the clutter of papers and textbooks, he still couldn't find his wallet.
He moved to the middle drawer and pulled it open. A small red booklet jumped around, being that it was the only thing in the drawer. He knew he shouldn't have picked it up, but he went against his better judgment. He wanted to think it was a day planner, but why would it be alone in a desk? And why would Tori even use it when she had her phone? Turning to the first page, he studied it in depth.
9/22/2011 – I've never missed a period before. Maybe I'm just a little late. Last period – August 29th.
9/28/2011 – I bought a pregnancy test today… It was positive.
9/30/2011 – Andre and I had sex today. Didn't tell him about the test.
10/8/2011 – Told Andre I was late. Took another test. Positive.
10/12/2011 – Andre took me to the doctor. Made him wait outside. Six weeks pregnant. Heard baby's heartbeat! Expected to give birth on June 4th.
10/28/2011 – Told my friends I was pregnant. Jade attacked me and I went to the hospital. Baby's okay.
11/5/2011 – Told my family today. Mom cried. Dad won't speak to me. Andre not allowed over.
12/25/2011 – Merry Christmas! Nineteen weeks pregnant today. Dad started talking to me again. Andre still not allowed over.
1/8/2012 – Second ultrasound today. Having a boy!
2/14/2012 – Felt my first kick today! Happy Valentine's Day to me!
4/13/2012 – Last ultrasound today in 4D. Got to see his face. He's so handsome! Can't wait!
4/24/2012 – Had my son last night at thirty four weeks. Named him Antonio David Vega. Dad cried when he held him. Doesn't look like Andre…
And there it was.
There was the proof that he couldn't be Antonio's father. He wanted to scream; Lord knows he wanted to cry. But he couldn't. He couldn't even get angry. What did that say about him? He just found out that his girlfriend that he planned on marrying had slept with someone—who presumably wanted nothing to do with the baby, if she even told him about it—and lied to him so he'd help her raise her child. He should be furious, but he just couldn't feel anything.
Apathy at its finest.
He put the little book down on the desk, not even bothering to put it back in its rightful place, and went back to the living room in wait. As soon as he fell back onto the couch, he lowered his head and held it in his hands.
Today would be the day.
Nothing's ever built to last. You're in ruins.
Tori sat in her car while Antonio napped in his backseat car seat. With a small sigh, she checked her phone, silently berating herself for leaving it in the car. Part of her hoped that she'd woken Andre up and made him notice she was gone. She hoped that if she had any missed calls or texts, they would be from him and everything would be right as rain like it once was.
That part of her crashed and burned when she saw it was only a text from Danny.
Tried callin u. Where r u?
Tori bit her lip uneasily. She and Danny hadn't really been talking, and she'd been avoiding him all week when he'd tried to contact her. She told him last week that they needed to talk in person because it was important, but she kept backing out whenever he tried to make arrangements.
She shouldn't have gone to see Cat.
Now that Antonio was getting older, it was obvious that he was starting to look like his parents. Anyone who looked at him could see that Andre wasn't his father. Tori was stupid for letting Cat see him, even if she was acting stranger than normal; she'd only sped up the inevitable.
Taking in a deep breath, she dialed Danny's number.
"I was starting to think you were ignoring me," he quipped as soon as he answered the phone after two rings. "Why would you tell me you want to talk to me and then not do it?"
"I've just been busy lately," Tori breathed softly. "Can…can you come over? I'm ready to talk."
"I can't right now, Tor," he told her. "I'm out of town and I won't be home until midnight. My mom's still pretty mad at me about Cat, so I won't be able to see you when I get home. If I ask you to wait, do you promise we'll talk tomorrow?"
Tori laughed slightly to herself. "Meet me at nine," she said.
"Not a minute late," he assured her. "I'll see you then."
"Okay," she breathed before ending the call. That would be good. She could sleep and then prepare everything she had to say. And hopefully, she'd be able to get Andre out of the house for a little while.
Sleep would definitely do her good.
Nothing's ever built to last. You're in ruins.
For the first time in two months, Andre actually smiled when he saw Tori enter the house with Antonio on her hip. She was so beautiful, standing there in the doorway with him. As he stood to greet her, he realized he would miss her.
But there was no going back now.
"I love you," he breathed as he walked over to her. She looked at him in shock, especially as he leaned in to kiss her on the forehead.
"I…I love you, too," she stammered out. She forced a smile; suddenly, it fell wrong to say that she loved him. Did she love him? They'd been friends for years now, but did she love him more than that? As much as she hated to think about it, she wondered if she latched onto him because he was the first guy to come along when she found out she was pregnant and show her some sort of affection.
"What happened to your shirt?" Tori quickly blurted out, trying to rid herself of those terrible thoughts.
"I spilled knocked over the formula mix in the cabinet," he answered nonchalantly as he plopped down on the couch. He put his feet up on the coffee table and grabbed the remote, quickly flipping on the TV and turning it to HBO. He had to make it seem like everything was normal. If he acted like he knew, then she would try to deny everything. He still had hope for the relationship, but it would fly out the window if she didn't come clean today.
"Did you buy some more?" she questioned as she moved around the couch to sit down beside him, carefully shifting the toddler onto her lap. Something didn't feel right.
He changed the channel, keeping his eyes locked on the TV. "I was going to," he told her. "But I couldn't find my wallet."
She pursed her lips. Something was definitely up with him. "Did you check our room?" she interrogated. "I don't know where else you could have put it. And why didn't you change?"
He turned to her with an annoyed look. He didn't want to continue this stupid small talk, but he didn't know how to bring it up to her. A rush of cold swam over her, and it started to make her a little angry.
Keep calm.
"Are you okay?" he accused. "You sound like you're trying to find something out."
"Well, maybe I am!" she exclaimed, her voice louder than necessary. Antonio squirmed in her tightened grasp, but she kept him pressed against her hip. "That's the point of a question, isn't it?" She closed her eyes and visibly relaxed. She was slightly tense about meeting with Danny, and Andre was starting to test her patience. She opened her eyes and forced another smile. "When was the last time we went on a date?" she asked.
Andre shrugged in response. "You know I've been busy lately."
She nodded. "Yeah, I know," she agreed hurriedly. "But why don't we go on one tonight?"
His face relaxed and he shook his head. That meant being alone with her…and he wasn't ready for that. "I got a lot to do with this deadline coming up," he stated.
"What about tomorrow?"
"I'll probably still be working." Why couldn't she just straight out tell him? She could tell him in front of the kid.
Tori's eyebrow twitched like it usually did when she got angry, but she wasn't sure he paid enough attention to her to know that. She clenched her teeth behind closed lips as she tried to think of something to say without exploding.
Then an idea sparked.
She placed Antonio on the floor and leaned toward Andre on the couch. "You can take off a little time for some fun, right?" she asked before kissing his neck. She nibbled slightly on his ear. "Maybe I can be your muse. We can do more collaborations."
As she continued to kiss his neck and even rest her hand on his shoulders, he couldn't shake his growing feeling of disgust. Was she playing dumb? Did she really think that if he went searching for his wallet, he would just give up? What if she knew he found something and was trying to distract him? He was getting tired of this game.
Gently, he placed her hands on her shoulders and pushed her away with an apologetic look. "As much as I want to," he began, "I got other stuff to do. I have to work on another demo tape and I only have beats for two songs finished. I do want to, Tori, don't get me wrong. But I gotta finish this."
She shot up from the couch and turned her back to him, crossing her arms. "I'm finding that really hard to believe," she seethed.
"What?" he questioned as he rose to his feet. "What are you talking about?"
She snapped around with fire in her eyes. "We've been together for two years now," she reminded him. "I understand how we didn't do much when the baby was first born, but then you stopped paying attention to me altogether! All I want to do is spend time with you, but you keep pushing me away." She didn't know she started to cry until a tear rolled down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, refusing to let him see her do it.
"I'm sorry, Tor," Andre apologized as he started to move toward her. Maybe it was silly, clinging to this hope. Maybe he should just go with the flow and keep pretending. "I can try to push things around and we can go out."
"Don't," Tori demanded. "You shouldn't have to make time for me!" She looked away from him. "Maybe you should spend some time at home so you can get your priorities straight."
"What are you saying?" he cried with worry. What kind of game was she playing?!
"I'm saying get out!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, her hair flying around wildly as she turned to face him. She picked up a pillow off the chair beside her and threw it at him. He ducked and it made a soft thud as it hit the fridge.
"We got a kid, Tori!" he cried. "You can't kick me out!"
The Latina laughed scornfully and walked over to the kitchen where Antonio sat in the middle of the floor playing with the pillow. She picked him up and stormed over to Andre. "Look at him," she demanded, bouncing her son roughly on her hip. "Do you realize how stupid you are for not noticing? For waking up every day and going to bed every night with a child that obviously isn't yours?"
Andre clenched his fists. "I'm not stupid!" he yelled. "I knew all along, Tori! I knew somethin' won't right and I found your little book to prove it! I knew, but I didn't say anything because I love you."
"So why don't you act like it?" Tori challenged. "It's hard to love someone when you don't give them the time of day!"
"Well I'm sorry if I'm trying to work so I can make a life for the three of us!" he screamed. "I'm sorry if I can't bear to look at you 'cause you wanna break my heart by lying to me and just using me so you won't be a single parent!" The intensity of his voice frightened the toddler and he began to cry. His mother quickly shifted him around on her body and held his head on her chest, resting her hand protectively on the back of it.
"I think you should leave," she advised in a softer tone with a pointed glare.
"What's going on up here?" David questioned as he emerged from the basement, wiping oil off his hands with a dirty rag. "I heard yelling."
"It's nothing," his daughter lied, keeping her eyes on Andre. "Andre was just leaving."
"Tori, we can talk about this," he told her loudly. "We can work something out."
David quickly crossed the room and stood between his daughter and her boyfriend. "She wants you to leave," he stated authoritatively, staring the boy down. "I suggest you listen before I convince you otherwise."
Andre grimaced at Officer Vega and quickly walked around the couch so he wouldn't have to walk past Tori. He stormed out of the house and slammed the door behind him, rattling the decorations on the walls.
David turned back to his daughter to ask her what happened, but she was already halfway up the stairs.
Nothing's ever built to last. You're in ruins.
As soon as she got in her room and slammed her door, Tori collapsed onto her bed, clinging her son tightly as she sobbed softly. She never wanted to tell Andre like that. She never wanted him to find out that way. She should have told him from the beginning, before the baby was even born, that it wasn't his. She shouldn't have lied to him.
Maybe things would have been different.
As she continued to cry, Antonio squirmed out of her arms and crawled beside her head, poking at it softly. "No cry," he pleaded as he tugged gently at her hair. "Tori no cry."
The young mother sniffled loudly and opened her eyes, smiling at her son as he eclipsed her view of her ceiling. She placed her hand on the back of his head and tilted her own up to kiss his forehead. "I'm sorry, angelito," she apologized, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mama keeps making bad mistakes." She moved out from under her toddler and sat up, pulling him into her lap. She pressed her chin atop his head as he hugged her and nuzzled into her chest. "I'm trying not to," she breathed.
Nothing's ever built to last. You're in ruins.
Angry couldn't even begin to describe how to Andre felt. Everything he did, he did for her. Who was she to throw that all away? Who was she to use him like that and not even bother telling him the truth? Who did she think she was to say he didn't love her? Of course he loved her! How could she think otherwise?
There had to be someone else.
Why else would she suddenly accuse him of not loving her if there wasn't another man involved? But who could it be? As much as he hated to admit it, he assumed that it was Beck, but there was more than enough evidence to disprove that theory.
Who could it be if it wasn't Beck? The thought of Tori being with someone else—the knowledge that her baby wasn't his—already broke his heart. She didn't know that many guys, so to think that she could have been with a stranger tore him to pieces.
There was no doubt that even though she was wrong, he was in the wrong, too.
He'd been neglecting her, consciously and unconsciously. He put his music first, used it as a distraction. He knew that she would be perfectly content living in her parents' home, even if it were permanent; he knew he didn't have to work so hard. He just…wanted to be worth something in her eyes. Her love wasn't enough; he needed her respect, since she apparently didn't respect him enough to tell him the truth. He needed to be able to make a living with the job he loved. He needed to buy her a home, create security for her and her son, to protect his family.
And now that was all gone.
They were over. He didn't have to try so hard for her anymore. He didn't have to take care of a kid that wasn't his. He was done.
He didn't remember the walk home.
Before he knew it, he was in his old room back home. He slammed his door, rattling his bedroom walls. Rage consumed him, making it nearly impossible to do anything but reach out to support himself on his dresser. His chest rose and fell as his growing hatred overwhelmed him. Red clouded his vision and his hands began to shake.
He wasn't violent, nor was he an angry person, but he screamed with such fury as he found the strength to throw whatever he could find on his dresser across the room. With all his strength, he tossed his dresser over, shaking the ground beneath him as it made a deafening crash.
He brought his foot up and kicked his bed with enough force to slide it across the room and dent the adjacent wall.
He took staggering breaths to steady himself, and his whole body trembled as he breathed. He needed to calm down; he was causing too much damage. He was enraged, alright, but he couldn't let it control him.
Intoxicated by resentment, he stumbled through his home, down the hallway, and into the kitchen. He needed to calm down; there was no other option. His mother used to tell him how a small glass of wine would always calm his grandmother down whenever she went into one of her manic frenzies.
Maybe it would do the same for him.
His body felt weighed down, as if he moved through quicksand. His hands continued to shake as he reached for the refrigerator handle upon entering the kitchen. He was so close.
Through much strain, he pried the refrigerator door open and reached down to the bottom shelf to pull out the bottle of expensive wine his mother saved for special occasions. If there had been a cork on it, he probably would have smashed the bottle atop the counter in his angered haze. Luckily, he was able to unscrew the top like he would a soda.
Without hesitation, Andre brought the bottle to his lips and tilted it as far back as he could without spilling it. The stinging liquid flowed into his mouth as he chugged the raspberry liquor and small streams of wine trailed from the corner of his lips. As he started to swallow, he felt calmer, but he didn't feel normal.
Taking a minor break from the wine, he could see clearer. But even that wasn't enough.
He placed the bottle on the counter beside the fridge and reached up to the overhead cabinet where his parents kept all the medicines and vitamins. A white bottle with a thick blue label stood out. Andre recognized this as the ibuprofen PM and quickly took it. As he opened the cap, he made sure to only empty two little blue pills into his hand; he didn't want to overdose.
Obviously, he knew that drinking alcohol while taking sleeping aids wasn't the best idea, but that didn't stop him as he downed each blue pill with a large swig of wine. And before he knew it, the last drop of wine evaporated on his tongue. He felt…fuzzy.
Without thinking, Andre let the bottle fall out of his hand and shatter on the tile floor. He snickered slightly as the noise scared him and stumbled back to his room. He obviously knew he was drunk, but that made him happy. There was nothing but joy radiating inside of him. He knew that he was angry about something, but he couldn't remember what that something was.
Wait. Maybe it had to do with a girl? Yeah, that was it! He was angry about a girl. But the only girl he could think of was Tori; how could he possibly be angry at her? He loved her and she loved him.
But…why wasn't he at her house? Why was he in his room? Why was his dresser knocked over? Why was his bed pushed against the wrong wall? And more importantly, why was he so tired?
He didn't expect the sleeping pills to kick in so fast! At least he had his bed.
Andre collapsed face first onto his soft, terribly missed bed and bounced slightly. He snickered more as he bounced a little and fought to stifle a yawn. He was in bed and he knew he was tired; he didn't need to yawn!
He turned slightly on his bed and felt unnecessarily restricted. He laughed a little too loudly when he realized he hadn't even bothered to put on his night clothes. But it was too hot for real clothes! So instead, he kicked off his shoes and shimmied out of his pants, kicking them to the floor as well when they were around his ankles. His shirt came off in one fluid motion and he sprawled out on his bed in nothing but his boxers.
His eyelids started to droop, but he knew that he'd feel better whenever he woke up.
