Phoebe sat on her bed, staring blankly at the wall, lost in the haze of her thoughts.
The fallout with Gerald felt like a suffocating blanket wrapped tightly around her chest. She couldn't shake the image of him—hurt and angry, his eyes brimming with unspoken emotions.
It twisted in her stomach like a knot.
She missed their late-night conversations, the laughter that echoed in the darkness, and the way he made her feel safe amidst the chaos of their lives.
Now, all that filled her room was silence, and it felt unbearable.
She had tried to express her concerns and unwittingly dragged her suspicions into their conversation at the hospital. Gerald had not taken it well.
He had been extremely unreasonable, taking everything personally demanding to know what triggered it before errenously declaring Arnold the enemy.
After what felt like an eternity, she took a deep breath, determination igniting within her. "I can't let it end like this," she muttered to herself.
She grabbed her jacket, the cool fabric a stark contrast to the warmth of her skin, and slipped out the door.
Her heart pounded like a war drum as she made her way to his place, each step heavy with anticipation and dread.
When she arrived, she spotted Gerald standing outside his parents house; his body tense and conflicted, preparing to leave as if he were running away from his own shadow.
For a second she fought the urge to call out, curious to see what he was doing standing outside so late. Hope in her wondered whether he was coming to her, to talk things over the way she was.
Disappointment washed over her when he turned in the opposite direction, his face shadowed by the dim streetlights. Frustration flared within her, hotter than anger. "Where the hell is he going?"
Ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach, she slipped into the shadows, driven by a mix of fear and resolve.
Her curiosity overcame her, she had to know where he was going.
Gerald walked a few blocks to a nearby apartment complex, his shoulders slumping as he approached the entrance.
A familiar face, the girl from the party opened the door, her smile unnaturally bright like a neon sign flickering in the night.
Phoebe's skin crawled.
She ducked behind a bush next to a window around the corner, the leaves scratching against her skin, and strained to listen, her heart racing.
"Hey, you made it!" Pheobe heard Curly exclaim, clapping Gerald on the back with a force that echoed through the air. "We've got something special for you, don't we Lynette?"
Phoebe's breath hitched at the unmistakable sound of a bag crinkling, the faint clinking of glass like a siren's call.
"Just what I need," Gerald replied, his voice tinged with relief but laced with desperation. "You're a life saver Curl, you won't believe the week I've had!"
Curly hummed with feigned empathy "That school thing, I can't even imagine."
"Yeah man it was so messed up. They said it was a burst gas pipe or something."
A brief silence lingered, a moment of somber reflection before Lynette offered Gerald a drink. "Are you okay, though?" she asked, perching near him with a disconcerting intimacy.
He shrugged, his posture heavy with defeat. "Haven't been able to concentrate. If it wasn't for this, my grades and basketball performance would have tanked long ago. Dad's been talking about military school a lot."
The weight of his words crashed over Phoebe like a wave. She felt hurt that he couldn't tell her all this.
He was relying on drugs to cope with the pressure, and she felt helpless, as if she were watching a train wreck in slow motion. She edged closer, her heart hammering in her chest, straining to catch every word - she had missed him mentioning something else.
Lynette leaned in, her voice sultry, dripping with feigned concern. "Broke up with Phoebe, huh? You must be devastated. Why don't I stay over tonight? I can help you feel better…"
"Yeah, maybe that's just what I need," Gerald replied, his voice thick with pain, and it twisted Phoebe's stomach into knots. She felt the air around her grow heavy with tension, every breath a reminder of the distance growing between them.
"What about Phoebe?" Curly asked, a hint of mockery in his tone. "You think she'll care if you're out here getting high with us?"
"Don't say that," Gerald shot back, his frustration boiling over. "This isn't about her. I just... I can't deal with everything right now."
Phoebe clenched her fists, fighting the urge to burst into the open.
She wanted to scream, but she stayed hidden, forced to bear witness to his downward spiral. The façade of their relationship was cracking, and she felt the shards cutting into her heart.
Gerald and Lynette bid Curly adieu.
As they sped off in her car, Phoebe felt a mix of rage and sadness wash over her. This was not what she ever expected to see when she left her house.
Heartbroken, she stepped back, ready to leave. But then, she heard Lila's voice from inside the apartment. It piqued her interest.
"Curly, let's get this over with," she said, her tone sharp and defiant.
Phoebe kept low, peering in as Lila knelt to insert a thumb drive into a sophisticated-looking CPU perched on the ground.
Curly smirked, sizing her up. "You know, I've always wondered what you'd look like on your knees, Lila," he said, his tone dripping with sleaze. "Not bad."
"Shut up," Lila shot back, her voice strained but firm. "Focus on the task."
Curious and frightened, Phoebe peered in as Curly moved to his computer, fingers flying over the keyboard. "It's only 10,000. What am I supposed to do with this?" he scoffed, an arrogant grin plastered on his face.
Lila's expression hardened. "That should be enough to exonerate my dad, don't you think?" she said, her voice low.
Curly's demeanor shifted, his smile fading into something menacing. He got off his chair and stepped closer, grabbing Lila by the throat, the air around them thick with tension. "Its. Not. Enough, Lila. Not nearly enough. If you think you can walk away from me, you're dead wrong."
Phoebe's breath caught in her throat as she watched, paralyzed by fear.
"Thad, please—" Lila barely gasped, her voice a soft squeak and just as quickly as it began, he leaning in to force a kiss and released her to fall to his feet.
"You know, I actually like your dad. He's a kind man. Weak as hell but kind." He said, standing to his feet, he paced attempting to hold his rage back.
Lila was crumpled on the ground, nursing her neck that was now purple. Her coughing was incessant.
Phoebe edged closer, her heart racing as she caught snippets of the conversation inside the apartment. Curly leaned on his forearms on a chair, a sinister grin plastered across his face as he watched Lila recover her breathing in front of him.
"Look, Lila," Curly said, his tone a mix of condescension and feigned concern. He sighed. "You have to understand, your father's little drug problem is now your problem. Our problem. And if you don't help me clean up this mess, things are going to get very, very ugly for him. And for you. Mostly him though."
Lila clenched her fists, frustration boiling inside her. "You maniac! I told you I'd get you the money. Just give me some time! I need to figure things out."
Curly's smile widened, his eyes glinting with a manic intensity. "Time? Time is what you don't have, babe. Do you really think I'm going to let you just waltz away when your dad owes me thousands...?! You're in this with me now, and there's no getting out."
Lila's heart raced as she felt the gravity of his words sink in. "I didn't ask for any of this! You know I'm doing my best."
"Your best?" he mocked, walking over to brush hair from her eyes, his voice low and dangerous. "This isn't just a game for me, Lila, this isn't some dumb school project where you do your best. This is about survival. I'm not just looking to win; I'm looking to thrive, to destroy anyone who stands in my way. And you'd better believe I'll make your dad an example of what you'll taste if you even think about double-crossing me. You owe me, Lila. You owe me big time."
She opened her mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes silenced her.
He stood up, his towering presence intimidating. Curlys grin widened, his red prescription glass frames hiding eyes that sparkled with ab unsettling mix of amusement and rage.
"Actually. What you fail to realize is that this is about us. Yup. This is about you and me. You're mine."
Lila felt a chill run down her spine, fear and anger churning inside her as she realized she might not be able to shake him off as she initially hoped. "What the fuck are you talking about? I'm not yours."
Curly laughed, a low, menacing sound that echoed in the small room. "Oh, but you are. You see, every time you pay off that debt, it just grows larger. How? Your dad's never actually going to stop doing drugs is he? Hmm let me think; news flash he's an ADDICT!
So technically, you can never truly be free of me."
"Curly, this is insane!" Lila shot back, her voice trembling but defiant. "You can't keep threatening me like this. I won't let you."
He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing in irritation. "You won't let me? I've already invested too much in you sweet cheeks. You think stealing 10k from the elderly and immigrant lodgers won't land you in prison? I press one button and the feds catch up with you. So pick, jail or me?"
Lila shook her head, malice dripping off her. "I hate you."
Curly shook his head, finally plopping on his multi screen set up and typing "I got your favorite dessert and movie tonight." He added randomly, he looked into the distant then spun his chair around once more.
"Lila, I really really don't want to be forced to keep you in line again," he said, looking to a cupboard and Lila shook her head knowing the insinuation, lip trembling.
The weight of his words landed heavy on her.
The sound of a twig snapping outside sent a jolt through her. Curly's attention snapped to the window, his expression shifting to one of alertness.
"Who's there?" he shouted, moving toward the door to investigate.
