Chapter Text
Despite the earth-wrecking conclusion that her life had come to a collective doom. Gina had found peace within the disasters of the world she so heavily wished she didn't land on. Who would have assumed that despite the tedious details that ached at her core were vanished as she indulged? The ways were simple; she would forget that the day had occurred, she would wipe away the mascara that stained her cheeks, would apply her perfect vermillion color lipstick and paint it upon her lips. Her smile would frame and uplift hearts and then the reputation that was built for her didn't have to crumble into oblivion. And yet, the universe never lets her simply forget or move on. She’s not allowed to, for once, run away from the problems that cloud the very surface of her existence.
“Gina.” A voice murmurs, under a breath, like it was not meant to be spoken but their lips were quicker than the train of thought. She looks up trying hard to grimace at the led lights that bleed in the room.
At that moment, she wished the world would whisk her away into the ocean where she would die a peaceful death, where she wouldn't be able to deal with the nows or the gnawing anxiety that lingered below her stomach. Because of course, of course, when she decides to indulge she runs into him.
He stands in the dazzling hues of the room, observing the slightly drunken demeanor of her.
“Bowen. What a surprise!” She exclaims, ignoring how tense the curly-haired boy looks, and how the desperate concern in his eyes would glimmer in the light.
“What are you doing at a Brooklyn party?” He remarks, quick to the subject, neglecting the fact they haven’t seen each other in two years. Pondering on the facade she places upon her expression. The feigned excitement clouded his mind, she was starlight in the hollow night sky. His eyes cling to her every feature that excludes her beauty.
“I can’t hang at certain parts of the city?” She replies with a click of her tongue as she lies beneath the couch that engulfed her small frame. He stands above, antagonizing her by letting his eyes roam everywhere. It wasn’t like she was indecent, she wore a pink corset top with black jeans that framed her figure, her hair bouncing against the beat of the music. She was once again, and as always so-
“You hate Brooklyn.” He deadpans, not buying her story. How was she supposed to explain why she was here? That her life felt like it was hanging by a thread? That the only thing that keeps her at bay in her mind is the scent of a potent green? He would sympathize, because he's Bowen, and it would drive her mad to an extent that she’d burst into tears. He would hold her until she was sobbed dry, he would tell her that it’d be okay and that she could talk about it on her own time. Yet the thing is she'd rather burn in oblivion than utter the words of what occurred today. The anxiety clawed at the backs of her every move when all she wanted to do was run.
“I do not.” She snips, removing her eyes from the soil-colored ones, the ones that used to read her like a book. She carries her gaze toward the people consuming alcohol like it was water like they were starving for a taste of freedom. The light strobes throughout the room and she begins to feel sick.
“You once told me, that a rat had a better chance of stepping foot here than you did.” He snaps, his eyes narrowing and she just stares at him. Letting her gaze convert him into an uncomfortable position, seeming as if Bowen never liked confrontation with her. He hated how she used to make him feel, confided in his own bubble like he couldn’t speak properly when she was around. The bubble of tension popped, as he softly smiled at her, his eyes converting the concern into shimmering mirth, and she almost sighs in pure solace.
“Ricky.” She says finally, as the music invades the silence that within only occurred eye contact.
“Gina.” He sighs, like a breath of relief, he lets the red solo cup that was clung onto his fingers disappear then captures her hand with his own. She watches as his thumb caress the pad of her palm.
“You know why I’m here,” Gina says softly, as he sits beside her. She suddenly feels small, like she was close to colliding with the dam of tears waiting to be released.
“I do.” He whispers, a boyish smile blinding her sight, as she engulfed his appearance. Curls with golden tips, lips slightly chapped but the pigment of pink, skin flushed from drinks, dancing, and whatever else could occur. God, she’s missed this.
“Then why are you doing this?” She asks, they lean into each other. She holds his hand tight as he does for her, they connect like one, and they hold each other gazes waiting for the other to speak their truth.
“I want to hear it from your lips.” He mumbles, almost slurring his words as his eyes gaze to the side of her lips, then her eyes, and then to the lips.
“I’m sure Nini would like that.” She playfully inquires, he rolls his eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. She feels his thumb caress her palm once more before he says,
“Doesn’t matter. We broke up.” Gina, not fazed by the news, just downs the cup of remaining liquor.
“Again? What was it this time? Oh let me guess, did she-” She begins, completely unimpressed upon the news of the couple. Two years, and he’s still the same. Still clinging on to what it was.
“It was serious this time. It's been a few days.” Ricky sneers and Gina tries not to giggle at the man, who stared at her with a determined expression. She’s seen that one before, the one where he acts like he’s being serious when in reality his fingers itch to his phone, waiting for it to light up with a specific person.
“Days.” She clarifies, the word having the undertone of no sympathy but judgment. You're still lying around for potential.
“Why are you here Gina?” He asks once more, knowing the look she’s given him with distaste.
“I wanted to get away. And the only person I thought of was you.” Gina speaks softly, the words lying beneath her tongue as his smile grew wider at the sound. He holds her hand tightly, she feels as if she’d burst into flames if he kept staring at her.
“That bad huh? Must be if you came to me after all these years.” He puffs out, sarcasm laced between the words he utters, she narrows her eyes despite the aching fact that he was right. It was terrible, almost excruciating to understand but she knew that he would. She knew that if anything needed to occur he would be the one holding her as she wept, and this? This terrified her. His breath hitched as he gazed into the eyes he desperately wanted to swim in, he held onto the raptors of her beauty as if she was a God he worship. The connection between these two felt everlasting, one would assume that distance would weaken the reddened thread that knitted itself into their hearts but the bond strengthens every time they further themselves away from each other.
“I just want to let go. For one night.” She lies beneath her pearls of teeth, letting the stripes of light flicker upon her mask of destruction. Her eyes lift as his averts, he pads his thumb swirling colors and shapes onto her hand, and she smiles softly at the sight.
“What happened?” He says so softly, and Gina only wishes to bask in his voice of wonderland. Only wishes for the mad hatter to whisk her away into a night of illusions of the possibilities that have a never ending separation from reality. But reality blares into her ears as sonorous as the music that engulfs them.
“No. Bowen.” She spits, and he flinches like acid is being flung. Her harshness never got to Ricky and for as long as she can remember this was her home, he was her home. But why does he flinch as she deflects? Why does his grip on her hand tighten every time she inhales? Why does he never stop looking at her?
“You’re seriously not gonna tell me? After all, we went through?” He says, almost jokingly and Gina scans the words, the tone for any sense of mirth, and detects nothing. Huh.
“It’s been years since then. I could go to someone else you know.” She playfully remarks, in hopes to bring it to a tone with which she can deal. She can’t deal with Ricky and the emotions that spiral between them. She has no energy, she was thawed out dry, her eyes hollow and sunken, her stomach empty and filled with flies, the news of that had taken the light in her body that kept everything moving. So no. She did not have the irony organ that beats in the chambers of her chest to inflict conversation about one's feelings.
“Oh yeah? Like who?” He espies the whirling thoughts that overcome the tired eyes that stare, and take, and observe, and god he felt as if he was going mad. So he conceals, conceals the intensity of feeling her against him, the distance between them was fair, and yet he felt as if he could sense the breath she exhales. She says nothing, only looks at him and he smiles softly, embracing the nothingness of today and ignoring everything between them.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. The snobs up in Manhattan couldn’t bring your hopes up so you come to me.”
“Last time I recalled you're part of the “snobs” in question.” She scoffs, and he rolls his eyes in amusement.
“Not by choice.” He childishly remarks.
“Yeah, Bowen neither is it for us.” She utters softly.
“You created the cliche, I don’t want to hear it. Not by choice.” His venom once again sinks in, her eyes embedded into his skull, he felt as if he was carved open for her to see, everything felt heightened around her, it just can't be ignored, can’t it?
“Because you ran away.” She tells it like a fact, her eyebrows furrowed and he dismisses the contact of their eyes knowing if he looked into them he wouldn’t be able to finish his thoughts.
“Like you doing right now?” He says, and she glares. It stings his nectar skin it felt as if the sun had burned him into nothing but ashes.
“You know what forget it. I’ll find somewhere else to indulge.” She says defecting once more, getting up to leave, he slides his hand downward, gripping her wrist, ignoring the sizzling that occurs.
“Gi come on. Please? I’m here now. You can talk to me, I won’t judge.” Ricky wishes he was lying, wishes that he could truly judge the girl that stands in front of him daring her aura, her eyes amongst his presence. He wished he could be stronger when she was around.
“You sure sound like you did with you criticizing everything.” She bites, and he can feel the poison that lingers in his veins.
“Let’s not play that card.” He begins once more allowing his demons to be tempted, spiraling to the point where fury invades his senses, expresses his sorrows, and holds her close before pushing her away. She’s aware of the cycle, it’s the only reason she stays.
“Ugh! There you go again!” She groans, vexation beating against her flushed skin. Moving to walk away before he pulls her to him. He stands, his lips above her own, he’s grown taller, how the hell did he grow so tall in such a short time? Her eyes waver against his own.
“What? You expect me to worship you in my arms? Pretend that we haven’t talked in years?” He continues, his grip never leaving her wrist as she gently, barely tugs it away. He was the weakest around her, and she tried to be strong but in the end, she was just as fragile as he was.
“I’m having a bad day, Ricky. I thought you out of all people would understand that.” She whispers, observing every crevice of his expression, weighing her irony organ as the eyes ebb into forlorn. Why did she come here?
“Gina I do. I’m just frustrated, we say two years. We say two years because we don’t want to talk about the other times we went to each other in need within those two years.” He bickers, malice intertwining within every syllable. The truth weighing on their shoulders. The truth begging to be revealed, their eyes never leave one another. The party moves in sedated motions, filled with the ecstasy of false realities, the hues of crimson seep through the walls, the azure strobes beckon upon the ceiling, and he couldn’t look away.
Silence embodies the two, clinging onto their every move as the world collapses around them.,
“I saw you a month ago Gi, I held you as you cried in my arms and woke up to find you gone. It’s always me you come to pick your pieces up.” He whispers, the melody of his voice crackling under the ochre light.
“What do you want from me?” She begs, he flinches once more, her voice quivering with fear, this was not her plan. She did not plan to be enraptured into the situation of what the hell they were. She was okay with the cycle. She was in her own crazed serenity acting as if she hasn’t seen him in years. She was okay with acting as if her world wasn’t crumbling and every time it did, she ran to him. She was okay acting like he didn’t matter. That’s how it was with them. She was okay with that. It was a silent agreement, every time she held his hand at nightfall, letting her sobs consume her till she couldn’t feel her lungs breathe in her ribs. She was okay with it all.
“Our friendship back. I want to be able to be around you. Without you acting so fucking shady around me.” He pleads, whatever the hell happened between Ricky and Nina fueled this new desire. He wanted to end it all, his crimson organ ached at the sight of her tear-stained cheeks as twilight eclipsed them. His fingers caressed her cheeks every night she came, he hated feeling so fucking guilty every time she left, he hated how weak he was around her, he hated having to lie, and beat around the bush because the cycle was familiar to them both, he hated having to act as if-
“Friendship.” She seethes, implausibility conjuring within her soil-colored eyes, she says the word like she doesn’t comprehend it, she says it like it was the person who killed her mother, she hated the stupid word as it clung to the boy’s lips.
“Gi,” He begins, she just stares in fury, letting the vision-reddened vines cling to her throat as she spewed her rage. She inhales deeply, mutilating her wrist from his touch, coldness invading his hand.
“I don’t know if I can do that.” She says coldly, and Ricky dreads the words, why the hell did she come here? He huffs and rolls his eyes, it wasn't a hand in marriage, committing to him is the one thing she seems to always refuse to do.
“Why because of Nina? She doesn’t control me. She doesn’t control who I hang out with.” He childishly tuts as he implores with his eyes for her to let him in, he knows it’s hard, he’s the reason why they stand here, stuck in the cycle that has been occurring for two years.
“You sure about that?” She inquires, rage and malice interlaced with her words, touches of sarcasm leaking as her expression conjures something indescribable.
“Gina.” He beseeches, sugar candied promises had once left those lips, moments where Gina felt she could truly believe him, where she would know he was the only one who held the torch that lit her world.
“I’ve had a shit day.” She states, allowing the words to linger in his brain, as he once again tries for more from her. All she could bestow at this moment right now is the piece of the aching heart that has been battered. And Ricky deserved the glowing light that Helios himself embodies, he deserves the everlasting love that she could not provide, not at this time, where her tear-stained cheeks were so visible with the amalgamated hues brushing against their figures.
“Yeah.” He says as if he had been berated by the girl that carried starlight in her eyes, and he wished for more, he wished for the world to swallow whole anything that would end Gina in a complete form of sorrow, he couldn’t handle it. He understood so perfectly why Nini wanted him to have nothing with her. He was so, he would always-
“So let’s try this again, I’ve had a shit day. Our decisions with how we do this are because it’s less complicated. So let me say it again, I’ve had a shit day. You’ve seen the tabloids, Bowen.” She whispers again as they cling onto each other's hands once more, he sits her down to the placement formed into a circle-like base with the arches of a cellar overcoming the piece of furniture.
“I have, I know, Gi that's why it’s easier if I-we-.”
“I’ve had a shit day! And the only person I can truly let go with is you.” She continues, telling him slowly so the words would reach not only within his ears but his eyes his mouth every feature that clung to his head, she needed him to understand. He was the only one she had left.
She doesn’t want to lose him.
“I know.” He says, swallowing the pit of anguish that burns his skin. Her nectar-like skin sticks itself to his hand, scorching the sweet remains on the palms.
“I trust you, Ricky.” Ricky. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t. He understood the rules, why couldn’t he be at peace with letting it go? With letting her find her own space in the wondrous galaxy?
“Not enough to be friends in the open?” He tries for the last time, desolation piercing itself into the echoes of his words, the crevices of his expression seeking it out.
“What so I can be humiliated by our friends and family when you isolate yourself because Nina says so? Don’t piss me off, Bowen.”
“It’s over.” He pleads, and she rolls her eyes in disbelief.
“I’ve heard that one before.” Scoffing slightly, turning her head away, Ricky sits there with her, eyes always on her, roaming around every feature because who knows if this will be the last?
“I’m serious.”
“For tonight, let's just, have fun tonight please?” Now Gina pleads, wanting her high of indulging to continue as she clings to the only person in her life she could truly feel safe with.
“Okay. Don’t leave in the morning.” He demands, he doesn't ask sick of the awakenings wishing she was next to him, and not in his phone placing a facade posting on social media.
“Where else would I go?” She asks playfully, ignoring the expression Ricky gives. Which meant he was serious. He refused to linger and wonder to see when he was going to see her next, he didn’t want to spend the night aching to know the tomorrow.
“Now I’ve heard that one before.” He jokes, mediating the sight sprawled out in his vision line, he’d seen many wondrous things in his life. He owned many precious items in his life. He’d seen scenery as radiant and rare as ever, and yet nothing-nothing could beat the sight of Gina Porter smiling down at him, mirth dangling in her eyes that spoke with the moon.
“Come on Bowen.”