"Jamie," I say in a low voice. "Please move out the way."
"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I was just messing around, you know that."
"Please move," I say again.
"Look at me. I'm just joking-"
My fist flies forward and connects with his nose before I can com...
We don't take our time leaving the flat. We both throw on a pair of shoes and a jacket and get out of there. I told her I was going to take her somewhere, but I didn't tell her where.
The ride is spent in almost silence; the only sound is her quiet crying of frustration.
I understand.
The irritation, the annoyance of resisting. Like you had an outlet and it's been taken away from you. I do understand the feeling. I just wish I had someone to take my mind off it before it got so bad. But I didn't have that. And I'm not about to let it get to that point for her.
"The film set? Really?" she sniffs as we pull over.
"Just trust me."
She dries under her eyes but nods.
We have to unlock the studio with y/n's spare key as everyone has already left for today and, when it's open, everything is quiet.
We go in and shut the door.
I whisper to her, "Stay here."
(Y/n's POV)
It's dark. And kinda creepy. And Jamie just left me standing here by the door. All by myself.
To be fair, the studio isn't a massive place, so it's not exactly like he can stray miles and miles away from me, but still. It's spooky all the same.
I hear him clattering around a little way away.
"Jamie? It's so dark, let me turn the light-"
"No! Don't turn the light on. Just give me a minute."
He rustles around for another minute or so before I hear a click.
The beautiful fairy lights turn on and illuminate the greenhouse set they use for the film.
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"Oh my god," I breathe.
Without the overhead lights, it looks gentle and sophisticated.
It's perfect.
I don't notice Jamie come back to me.
"Come on," he takes my hand. "Come with me."
He leads us through the fake plants and birds and lights until we reach the steps.
"After you," he puts his hand out to signal me going first.
I put my hand on the cold metal railing and start to walk up. It's not that high, but I stop when I'm about 3/4 of the way up and sit on the step.
"This is beautiful," I say as Jamie stands in front of me.
"Yes it is," he says, looking right at me.
I nervously tuck my hair behind my ear.
"Why did you stop?"
"Hmm?"
"You were going to do it. To cut yourself. But you didn't. Why?"
"I thought you were meant to be taking my mind off of it?"
"I will. But I want to talk about it first."
I sigh. "You're right, I was going to. I so nearly did. I was looking at the blade in my hand, ready to feel the relief. Ready to make the pain go away. But then I heard you, on the other side of the door, and you just sounded so upset. It sounds silly, but it hurt my heart to hear you like that."
His eyes soften, "It doesn't sound silly at all." He holds my hand in his, "I was so scared. And I was mad at myself for turning my back on you, for letting you go. I felt so stupid when I heard your door lock, I couldn't believe I'd fallen for it. But you were so torn up, so distraught by that news story, I knew you wanted to do it and I was scared you wouldn't be able to stop."
"I don't know that I would have been able to stop," I admit. "I don't think I'd ever intentionally go too far, but sometimes I just can't help it."
"What do you mean?"
I let out a breath. "It got really bad, the first time. After the crash with Brian, and after he left, that's when I started doing it. And I used to have a routine; I'd get up at about 5, go for a run, come back, shower, get on with the day. And that was every day, no matter what. But one morning, I didn't even feel like leaving the house. Bearing in mind, I was 19 at the time so I was out of the foster system, living by myself. That morning, I felt the urge. It wasn't anything new, I'd get it a lot, but it was so intense. So I cut, I was doing it on my thighs at the time, but I was so mad and upset and frustrated that I wasn't focused enough. I wasn't concentrating properly, I was just cutting. Over and over again. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in hospital to doctors telling me I'd nicked my femoral artery."
"How did you get found?"
"My neighbour, thankfully, knew my routine off by heart. She'd always send me off on my run and greet me when I came back. So she knew something was wrong when I didn't show up. They said she was banging on the door for ages, and ended up calling an ambulance cause she assumed there was something wrong. And they found me, bleeding out, in the bathtub."
