AT CLUBS

I entered clubs even angrier than I was before. I had a panic attack in the bathroom earlier when I ran into the bathroom. It was horrible. I had another one right before this. I'm so nervous and so angry. I hoped I would just audition and be successful. I wanted to be Tessa so horribly bad.

I sit down in my seat and go over my lines out loud. A girl comes up to me and taps my shoulder.

I jerk away.

"Can you please read in your head?" she asks.

"Can you please leave me alone?" I snap.

She walks away mumbling something.

After all the boring names are called to audition, mine is finally next.

I go up there and get on stage. I look forward and they nod. I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart. It doesn't work. I begin to get hot, and my legs shake. I sit down on the stage. Everything is spinning. I sit there for a moment. Once I'm over my panic attack, I get up and act as nothing happened. I cough and nod towards the club leader.

"You are Tessa and you are in the scene where you are confronting your father. Action."

This would be easy because Tessa's father is dead to her, and I'm already angry.

"I don't want to see you! Why do you think it's so hard for me to get close to people? Why do you think mom killed herself? All you ever cared about was the money. You never cared about me, or mom." I say, making myself tear up at the end.

The club leader claps for me and I just exit the stage.

LATER AT HOME

The rest of the day was just like the beginning except I had to try not to be mean because people came up to me and told me "good job". It didn't work, but it worked enough. If they could read my head, I'd be saying "no hard feelings, but I wish you'd get the hell away from me".

As for Marcus, his eyes were locked on me all day, and I ignored him.

Now I'm at home, laying on my bed. Crying. My medicine is gone.

Medicine: gone.

Tana Mongeau: married

My life: pointless

Hotel: trivago

I had to do it.

But anyways, my asshole of a father took my medicine. I am crying and shaking hysterically because of him.

I reach in my drawer and grab my box cutter. I take the blade out and look at it.

"Forget this shit." I say angrily, throwing the box cutter.

I hear the door open and I run downstairs.

"You asshole! What the hell were you thinking? What druggie father steals their daughters medicine? My freaking medicine! What kind of shit is that? Did you sell my freaking medicine? Again? You asshole!" I yell, letting out all my feelings.

He laughs in my face.

This asshole.

Laughing.

In my face.

Does he want to die today?

"First of all, watch your mouth. Second of all, I sold it. You are getting your new ones in the mail. I called and told the ward that you lost them. They were skeptical but I convinced them. They will be here in two days." He says calmly.

"You must be real damn satisfied with yourself, daddy." I say, adding the last word for extra hurt.

But this asshole doesn't feel hurt. This asshole doesn't feel remorse, hurt, or any other feeling of sorrow or regret.

"It's just two days. Until then, we can go out to eat with the money I made. Your medicine is worth so much, I'm surprised you didn't get the idea to sell it before I did."

"Yeah well dad, I'm not a dumbass." I snap.

"I am trying really hard to understand where you're coming from, and take you to do some things you wanna do, but you're making it hard for me not to beat the shit out of you." He says.

"If you were trying hard to understand me, you wouldn't have sold the medicine in the first place!" I yell.

"I give up on this conversation, here is $400. Do whatever. I don't care when you come home."

"How much money did you make?" I ask, a little quieter, hoping to get somewhere with this conversation.

"A little over $6000." He responds.

My medicines were extremely strong and expensive but the ward pays for them.

"I hate you." I say, glaring at him.

"Ok." He says.

"Where do you even work?" I ask.

"I don't have a job but the people who buried your mother own a company where they send people who lost loved ones money each month."

"My mom was buried?" I yell.

I was always told she was cremated and the ashes were lost.

"Oh shit. Brianna, -"

I interrupt him.

"Where is she buried?" I ask.

"I'm not telling you." He says.

"Tell me now, Dad!" I yell.

"No! Now take this god damned money!" He yells, handing me the $400.

I grab it and run upstairs. When I got home, I had changed into a gray tank top and shorts. I throw on a hoodie, and take off my shorts. I throw on some black sweatpants and some white slip on vans that are dirty and stained. I grab the $400, shove it in my pocket and grab my phone. I go downstairs, and leave the house.

I go to the local pharmacy and buy some medicine. It was going to be another version of my prescription medications. Except no prescription needed. I buy some Synaptol for my ADHD, Benadryl for my anxiety (hopefully it won't put me to sleep), and some Compulsin Tablets for my depression. Of course the local pharmacy doesn't have anything for blood addiction.

The cashier doesn't ask questions, and that surprised me because I spent 15 minutes preparing my explanation.

Then I take out my phone and call Marcus.

"Hello?" He says.

"Hi."

"What was up with you today?" He asks.

"Woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Wanna hang out?" I ask him.

"And do what?" He asks.

"I got $300, you pick."

"Bet. Where you wanna meet?"

"I want food so tell me where you wanna eat." I say.

I was hungry for the first time in forever. The medicines I bought costs $66.89 in total, leaving me with $333.11.

The Synaptol and Compulsin Tablets were expensive.

"We can eat at a hibachi place." He says.

"Sounds good. Text me the address." I say.

"Alright. See you there."

I hang up.

I sit down on a bench and begin taking the medication. I then put it in my hoodie and pants pockets and throw the bag away.

It may seem like with how strong my symptoms are, that these medicines wouldn't phase me at all. Since my prescription medicine is strong, it stays in the system for 48 hours but is less powerful the longer it's in your system. So these medicines will help my prescription medicines come back half as powerful, and I should be able to contain myself for a while.

Bad Boy Marcus sends me the address and I begin walking there.

I get there and call him. I hear a phone ring behind me and jump.

"Shit." I say.

Marcus starts laughing hysterically.

"Ahahah, oh my god."

"It's not funny!" I say, shoving him lightly.

"I was- I- aha." He stutters.

"I was trying to scare you." He says.

"You weren't supposed to call me."

I roll my eyes.

We enter and order food and sit down.

"Aye my friends a sophomore in college and is throwing a party tonight at his frat house. Wanna go?"

"Sure but I wanna do some other things first." I say.

"Like what?" He asks.

"I don't know."

A smirk comes onto his face.

"Well when I first moved to San Francisco, I made a bucket list." He says.

"A bucket list?" I ask.

"I was 10." He defends.

"Okay and?" I say, wondering what he is up to.

"We are gonna travel. Forget the party." He says.

"To where?" I ask.

"You will see." He says.

"First we are going to take a cable car." He says.

A cable car is something in San Francisco that reminds me of the trolly from Daniel Tigers Neighborhood.

We leave and get in his car. He drives somewhere and then parks his car in a parking garage. We walk back out. Then, a cable car comes by and we get on.

"It's so crowded." I say.

"Yeah. There is only three of these in all of San Francisco."

"Wow." I say.

I don't see what's so special about this red bus but if I was insta famous then it would make some good pictures.

Just as I'm thinking this, Marcus takes a picture of me.

"Aye no photos." I say, covering my face.

"Too late. But the photos beautiful." He says, looking at his phone.

I stick my middle finger up at him. He laughs and so do I.

It was only 5:30pm and was still not dark out.

After we get off the slow red bus, he plans the next thing.

"What's next?" I ask.

"We are going to go get my car, and then go visit the Golden Gate Bridge." He says.

My heart drops at the mention of it. I've thought about jumping off of it a million times.

We get in his car, after finding it, and then he stops at a store and tells me to wait in the car. He comes back with a bag but I don't question him.

We arrive near the Golden Gate Bridge and park his car somewhere in another parking garage.

We walk the rest of the way to the bridge. We walk along the side and he brought the bag with him. He pulls out a huge padlock with a key and opens it. He pulls out a sharpie and begins writing on it.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Making a memory." He says.

I look at what he is doing. He writes Marcus on the padlock with a plus sign beside it. He hands it to me.

"Write your name." He says.

I write my name and look at the padlock. Then I add the two words "Bad Boy" in front of his name.

He looks at it and smiles.

He unlocks the lock and puts it on the fence of the bridge. He puts the key in his pocket.

"Before the night ends, I will get another key made for you." He says.

I nod.

He has been snapping pictures of me this whole time. We walked the bridge for 30 minutes.

His next plan was to go to Union Square.

But first he needed gas. So we went to get gas, then we walked around Union Square.

I enjoyed myself so much.

After we were done walking around Union Square, he decided that we would be even more spontaneous and visit the bay bridge. Of course he bought another padlock and did the same thing.

He also took a bunch of pictures of me on this bridge too.

Next, we went to the Golden Gate Park. I wanted to do this while we were near it but he decided to do this last. He had blankets in his trunk like the natural player he is. Of course every bad boy has blankets in their trunk.

"I wonder how many girls have laid on this blanket?" I say, jokingly.

"Only five, you're pretty lucky."

I look at him like he is crazy.

He shoves me in my side, and sits up.

"I'm kidding. You're the first one."

"Do you even have a girlfriend, Bad Boy Marcus?" I ask him.

"No, but girls follow me and I am a nice guy so I give them a little attention and maybe a little more attention but that's it." He says.

"Nice guy my ass. You are a bad guy." I say.

"Yeah I got my mugshots and everything." he says jokingly.

I laugh. We both sit up at the same time and we both laugh at that.

He stares at me and I get uncomfortable.

"So do you still wanna go to that party?" I ask him.

He continues to stare at me.

Before I know it, he is on my blanket, and he is still staring at me and I'm frozen. I'm confused and can't move.

Before I know it, his eyes are closed and he's leaning in and my body is following in his footsteps.

Our lips collide and we kiss.

I just kissed Bad Boy Marcus

Hold the hell up.

a/n: I'm listening to Tom MacDonald while publishing this so yah