by Corgan, Sky
“Well, you asked.” He rolls his eyes.
“I don't need the details.” I laugh.
“Why not? You tell me all of that nasty shit that you and Lucy Lu do.”
“Lucy Lu?” I nearly spit out the water I just drank.
“How's that going anyway?” He makes a sweeping motion with his hand as if he's just trying to make conversation and not at all interested in the answer.
“It's going better now.” I shrug. “I think you know how it is at this point. One step forward, two steps back. We're stepping forward right now.”
“The math on that is all wrong.” He frowns at me. “If you're only taking one step forward and two steps back, then things aren't going in the right direction.”
“Perhaps that was bad phrasing.” My eyes widen at my own stupidity. “Things are going slowly.”
“Well, at least you're not on the verge of crying again.” He picks his bread up and takes a bite.
I sigh. “I wish you and Janice would get off of my back about that. My relationship with Lucian is a work in progress. It probably will be for a while still. I'm breaking him down though. Things will work out in the end, I'm pretty sure of it.” I bob my head, determined that I'm right.
“If you say so.” He quirks his head back.
“I do say so.” I glare at him.
“Fine.” He holds his palms up in surrender, then his attention diverts to something behind me. “Oh thank God, the waiter is coming. I'm absolutely starving.”
“Me too. I'm going to eat like there's no tomorrow.” I put down my bread to give my menu another quick look over before folding it up.
***
After lunch, Derrick and I stop by Redbox, pick up way more movies than we could possibly ever watch in one afternoon, and head back to my apartment. I pour us two glasses of the now flat wine that Lucian and I were supposed to have drunk the night before, and we settle on the sofa for an evening of mindless entertainment.
“This wine is kinda gross.” Derrick wrinkles his nose at me.
“Just shut up and drink it.” I smirk, wondering if it would be even more unappetizing to him if he knew I had been meant to share it with Lucian. Information better not disclosed.
He screws his face and takes a sip before shrugging and setting his glass on the coffee table. Then he leans back and hooks his arm over the back of the sofa, and I cuddle up against him.
Toward the end of the first movie, Janice emerges from her bedroom wearing a sleek black trench coat and some white shiny vinyl boots. Derrick and I both turn to look at her.
“Going to Flesh?” I ask, trying to sound chipper about it.
“Yup. It's not too late for you to come.” She wiggles happily.
“Pfft. I'll pass.” Derrick grunts.
“Aw, come on. I'm sure you could learn a few things to teach to your boyfriend,” she teases.
“Shit, he could probably teach those people a few things.” He rolls his eyes.
“So when are we going to meet this mystery man?” Janice leans over the sofa next to us, resting her forearms on it.
“I don't know.” His lips twist into a mischievous grin. “I'd be kind of embarrassed for him to see how big of sluts you both are.”
“Derrick!” My mouth falls agape and I turn to smack him on the knee.
Janice laughs. “To each his or her own. At least I don't let anyone fuck me in the tailpipe.”
I blush madly at the reference, thinking of what Lucian and I did together.
“Oh bullshit,” Derrick counters. “I bet there's not a hole in your body that hasn't been violated.”
“You got me there.” She points at him. “Hopefully some of my holes will get violated tonight. I want to do a rape scene,” she says dreamily.
“You, ma'am, are a complete freak.” Derrick shakes his head at her.
“Freaky and proud.” She straightens herself, a smile plastered across her face as she stretches.
“Uh oh, don't tell me you're tired already,” I say.
“Nope. Just woke up from a nap. All rested for the night to come,” she replies. “You should ditch queer eye and come with me. I'm sure they've got someone available.”
“Queer eye?” Derrick huffs, though he's obviously not too offended by the comment.
“Nah. Things are going well with Lucian and me.” I shake my head. “I wouldn't want to screw that up.”
“Suit yourself.” She shrugs.
“So, are we going to get to see the outfit?” Derrick gestures to her trench coat. “I'm sure you've got something really skanky on underneath that.”
“Your gay little eyes couldn't handle it.” She hugs herself, rocking back and forth while pouting.
“I'll vomit after you leave.” He makes grabby hands at the coat.
“Fine.” She takes a step away and turns so that her back is facing us. “I'm meeting with a new Dom tonight, so I wanted to wear something impressive.”
When she slips off the trench coat, I give her back a confused look. The outfit she's wearing isn't fetish related at all. It's not even black. Sheer white stockings cover her legs and are attached to matching garters. As she turns around, I realize that it's just regular lingerie. A white silk bra with matching panties. Everything is lacy and see-through. It's hard for me to keep looking at her because I feel like I'm seeing all of her.
“Glad I had sex yesterday,” Derrick comments, “because I definitely won't be getting it up tonight.”
“Oh shut it,” Janice barks at him. “You wanted to see. Besides, you're not that damn gay or you never would have wanted to date Amy.”
“Amy is classy.” He casts a sideways glance in my direction.
“This is classy too.” She pulls a lacy, white jacket over her shoulders. I never would have known it was there had she not grabbed the sides of it from under her trench coat. To be honest, the ensemble is gorgeous, just not something I'd ever expect her to wear to Flesh.
“So what made you go with this?” I gesture to the outfit.
“Well.” She closes up her trench coat, her eyes fixed on Derrick as if she's actually concerned that she has offended him with her near nudity. “As I said, I wanted to do a rape scene, so I figured it would be better if I looked pure.”
“You look purely slutty.” Derrick smirks.
“Shut. It.” She pretends to zip her lips.
“I think you look gorgeous,” I tell her. It's true. If I wore something like that, I'd just look frumpy. White isn't really my color.
“Thank you, Amy.” She bows her head to me respectfully, then goes to the bar to pick up her purse. “Well, I'm outski. You faggalottes have a good night.”
“Faggalottes?” Derrick raises an eyebrow.
“My word. I copyright it.” She points to the ceiling as she walks toward the door.
“Whatever.” He shakes his head and rolls his eyes.
All I can do is giggle.
After Janice leaves, I snuggle back against Derrick and we resume watching the movie. It's hard for me to concentrate when I'm busy wondering what Lucian is up to.
Apparently, Derrick is having issues too, because he randomly says, “I don't understand what she gets out of that.”
“I do, to a degree.” I bite my bottom lip, thinking about the scene I did with Lucian in his dungeon. Not the painful one that was supposed to mimic Flesh, but the one that he tailored for me. He's good at that, figuring out what people want and accommodating them. That's probably why he's done so well at Flesh.
“I mean, who wants to be beaten during sex?” He shifts his weight, getting comfortable.
“It's not all about that. It's not supposed to be about that at all, really.” I lean into him a bit more.
“Then what is it supposed to be about?”
“Pleasure.”
“There's nothing pleasurable about being beaten.”
“People derive pleasure from different things. It's like that saying that one man's trash is another's treasure.
But there's a whole list of kinks beyond flogging and spanking and the painful stuff. You can get pleasure from BDSM without ever being struck.” My mind instantly drifts back to the forced orgasm tower.
I can't help but wonder what other tricks Lucian has up his sleeve. I'd like to find out someday. Perhaps if I tell him that, it will make him realize that I don't have to be his submissive for him to do kink play with me. Of course, he should know that already after everything we've done together.
“Well, I don't get it, and I suppose I never will,” he huffs.
“To each his own.” I smirk.
We remain silent until the credits start to roll. Then Derrick changes out the Blu-ray Disc and returns to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder again and pulling me close.
“This is nice,” I sigh contently.
“This is nice,” he replies, sounding relaxed. “You know, it could have always been like this.”
“What do you mean?” I look up at him.
He turns to me and brings his hand up to my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb. The way he's looking at me sends tendrils of dread clawing at my insides. I know this look. It's the same look he got when he first tried to seduce me.
“I still like you, Amy, and I always will.”
Gingerly, I grab his hand and set it back down in his lap. “I'm with Lucian now, Derrick.”
He leans back against the sofa to face the television. “I know, and I've made peace with that. I just wanted you to know that I wasn't lying about what I said. I try to cover up my feelings, but it doesn't work very well. Still, I respect the fact that you're not interested in me. And I know why you chose him.”
The air in the room suddenly grows thick, but it's more awkward than choking. I really don't want to talk about this, even though I know he's sincere. He's not hitting on me this time. Not really.
“I don't ever want to lose you as a friend, Derrick,” I say quietly.
“You won't. I know where we stand. And besides, I'm never going to have washboard abs like Wonder Boy. Apparently, that's what it takes to impress you.” He pokes my side teasingly.
“Wonder Boy? Really?” I shake my head.
“I'm happy for you, Amy. I really am. If he could just stop making you cry, everything would be perfect.” His expression is slightly disapproving, but I know he won't push the subject any further.
CHAPTER THREE
Derrick and I are at the end of movie number three when the door slowly opens and Janice walks in. When we turn to glance at her over the back of the sofa, she seems like a deer caught in the headlights. Or more like a raccoon. The mascara she was wearing earlier has stained her cheeks. My chest instantly tightens at the realization that she's been crying. Those tears are fresh too.
“Slutzilla returns!” Derrick says dramatically.
“Derrick,” I chastise him under my breath before turning back to Janice. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” She hugs herself, taking long strides towards her room.
The fact that she didn't stop to talk to us tells me that something is really wrong.
“Looks like she got what she wanted.” Derrick smirks sarcastically.
“That's not funny. I should go check on her.” I stare at the television with worry plastered across my face.
She's my best friend. Whatever happened, I'm sure she needs to talk about it. She probably just kept walking because Derrick was here and she didn't want to disclose the gritty details to him.
“I'll be right back.” I pat Derrick on the knee before standing to go to Janice's room.
When I get there, the door is cracked open. I peek inside, my hand poised to knock. It takes everything in me not to gasp. Her trench coat is off, and there are bloody marks all over her back. To make things worse, she's sobbing quietly.
Not willing to hesitate for a second longer, I push the door open and go inside, closing it behind me so that Derrick can't hear whatever it is she has to tell me. When she turns, the front of her is no better than the back. There are cuts all over her body and tiny little dots of dried blood. Purposeful marks. Someone has taken razors, needles, and God knows what else to her body.
The look in her eyes is completely defeated. I step forward to embrace her, but she pulls away as if I'm the one who has injured her. It hurts seeing her like this. I don't really know what to do.
“Did you not have a safety word?” I ask.
“I did,” she coughs out.
“Then why didn't you use it? This is horrible.” I gesture to her body.
“I didn't want to seem like a pussy.” She grins sadly, drawing her hand up to her face to wipe her tears roughly with her palm.
“Oh, Janice.” I push her trench coat aside to sit on her bed. “You should have used your safety word.”
She walks to her dresser, staring into her mirror with her back to me. “That's not even why I'm crying.”
“Then why?” I curl my fingers around the side of her bed, trying to straighten my back. All of that slouching on the sofa with Derrick has put a crick in it.
She turns but doesn't look at me, sucking up the tears that were falling. “I don't want to talk about it right now. Not tonight.”
“Is it because Derrick's here?” I wrinkle my nose. “I don't think he can hear us.”
“No. And yes. I don't know.” She shakes her head. “Could you just give me some time alone? I want to take a shower and collect my thoughts.”
“Sure.” I stand, walking over to place my hand on her shoulder. “I'm here for you whenever you need me, alright?”
“Tch,” she grunts.
My jaw clenches as I leave her room. Part of me is upset about the way that she's acting. Even though she looks so broken, she's being cold towards me. This isn't normal at all. Still, I can't force words out of her, so all I can do is wait.
I return to the living room and sit down next to Derrick, sighing deeply. He turns to me, his previous cocky expression completely gone. Now, he looks just as worried as I was.
“Is everything alright?” he asks.
“I don't know. I don't think so.” I wrap my arms around myself.
“What happened?”
“She won't tell me.” I lean against him, trying to hide the concern etched on my face.
“Why not? Aren't the two of you best friends?” He makes it sound like it's preposterous that she won't talk to me.
“I don't know. All I know is that she's not good.” I glance back towards Janice's room to make sure she can't hear me before I whisper to him, “She's covered in marks. Not bruises. Cuts. Dozens of them. Maybe even hundreds. I didn't want to gawk for too long.”
His eyes widen in panic. “Should we take her to the hospital?”
“No. It's not that bad. Everything is mostly superficial. But there's just...a lot,” my voice trails off as I wonder what kind of monster could do that to another human being.
“Why didn't she try to get away?” I can hear the anger in his tone.
I roll my eyes. “Because she didn't want to look like a pussy.”
“Oh, that's bullshit!”
“Shhh!” I press my index finger to my lips as I hear Janice's bedroom door open.
We stay quiet until we hear her pad into the bathroom and close the door. Then we wait even longer until the sound of the showerhead tells us that she can't hear us anymore.
Derrick sits with his back pressed against the sofa, shaking his head. I can't even begin to wonder what he's thinking, but I can tell he's upset. For all of the rude playful banter that he and Janice share back and forth, they do care about each other.
“I wish there was something we could do,” I say, completely at a loss.
“Do you think I should leave?” He glances down at me sincerely.
I scrunch up my face, wanting him to stay but knowing that Janice probably won't talk as long as he's here. “It might be for the best.”
He nods. “Yeah, I thought so. Just...let me know what happened tomorrow, a
lright?”
“If she wants me to tell you, I will.” I stand to take the Blu-ray Disc out of the player. “Can you drop these off at Redbox on your way home?”
“Sure.” He takes the movies from me, and I walk him to the door.
The hug we share is awkward. Too tight. I can't help but wonder if it's because he's worried about Janice or if he's still thinking about what he said to me earlier about his romantic interest being genuine. It's not something I should be thinking about right now. All that matters is Janice.
“Call me if you two need anything, alright?” he says as he breaks free from the hug.
“I will.” I open the door for him, then watch as he walks out of it and leaves me alone with my thoughts.
***
It feels like forever before Janice emerges from the shower. I sit on the sofa in the living room, waiting for her, staring blankly at the television, even though it's not turned on. My mind is cycling through ways of comforting her. Perhaps I should bake a cake. She sometimes bakes me a cake when I'm upset. I'm not even sure if she's hungry though, and I am supposed to start my diet tomorrow. Baking a cake now probably isn't the best idea.
My ears perk up when I hear the bathroom door open. I immediately look down the hall, waiting for Janice to come out and join me. Instead, she makes a beeline for her bedroom, closing the door behind her.
My shoulders slump as I realize that the waiting game isn't over. I sit on the sofa for another hour before realizing that she has no intention of coming out and talking to me. Poor thing. She must be really traumatized. It's a good thing I didn't bake that cake.
Surrendering to the realization that she's not going to talk tonight, I decide to go to bed. The night is eerily solemn. I can hear Janice crying in her room, and it completely breaks my heart. More than anything, I wish there was something that I could do for her. She won't let me help her though. Maybe this is one of those things that only time can heal. She'll talk to me when she's ready. I have to believe that. After all, we're best friends.