Dramatic Gabe
829 Words
Gabriel's POV
The steps to that podium felt like walking to my own funeral. I was shaking. Not the kind of shaking where you are nervous, but the kind where your body is actively trying to shut down. The crowd was a blur of expensive dresses and fake smiles.
My mom, looking so proud she could burst, and Mr. Miller, the guy who just married into our lives to ruin them.
I gripped the sides of the microphone. It was cold. I opened my mouth. I had it all planned out. I was going to tell them, the whole truth I just witnessed.
A hand clamped onto my shoulder. It wasn't a grab, it was a vice. Derek. He leaned in, and his breath was hot against my ear.
"What do you think you want to say?"
I tried to shrug him off, but he held me there. "I have an announcement," I hissed. My voice was cracking. I hated how small I sounded.
He smirked. I could feel it against my neck. "Zip it, Gabe. We are leaving, we have a party to attend."
He dragged me off that stage before I could get another word out. People were staring, but he didn't care. He hauled me down the stairs, through the crowd that was already starting to leave. I was stumbling, tripping over my own feet.
"I am not following you to any party," I shouted, trying to pull away. "Remember the last time? Your friends almost murdered me."
He shoved me into the passenger seat of his car so hard my head snapped back. He leaned over me, his face inches away, eyes flat and dead. "I will protect you, Gabe."
"You can’t," I spat. "You are the reason I even need protection in the first place."
He froze. He looked shocked that I had even said it. Then his face twisted. "You have got a big mouth these days. Don’t forget, I still got your little sketchbook."
My gut dropped. My sketchbook. All my drawings, my secrets, the one thing I kept hidden. If he showed that to my mum, or the school they would eat me alive. I had no choice. I was trapped. I slumped in the seat and stared out the window as he zoomed off.
The penthouse was a joke. It was decorated like a club, loud music thumping through the floorboards, people drinking like it was the end of the world. I hated it. I hated the smoke. I hated the way everyone looked at me like I was something that didn't belong here.
I sat right next to Derek. I don't know why. I hated his guts, but in a room full of people who wanted to eat me alive, he was the only predator I knew. I could handle Derek. I didn't know how to handle these strangers at all.
Then the panic hit. It started in my chest, tight and sharp. I couldn't get air. The smoke was thick, gray, choking me. I started coughing badly, I couldn't bear the smoke anymore.
Some girl, probably some rich trust fund kid, laughed. "Derek, your brother is way too weak for this place. Why did you even bring him here with us?"
Derek didn't laugh. He grabbed me by the jacket and hauled me out of the VIP section. He didn't carry me, he just marched me to the balcony door and shoved me out into the cold air.
It was freezing. I collapsed onto a swing, gasping, my lungs finally dragging in oxygen. It felt like I had just been underwater.
"Water," I managed to wheeze out.
"Stay here." He turned and bolted back inside.
I swung there, just trying to make my heart stop trying to escape my ribcage. The city lights were blurry. I was alone. But I just told Derek I needed water and he went in to get it for me? To be honest Derek had been acting weird these days, since when was he ever concerned for me.
"Hello, Gabe."
A voice cut through from behind me, it made my hair stand up. I froze, as the person took steps closer to me until he got to my front. I didn't look up yet. I knew that voice.
Bradley.
He stood right in front of me, hands shoved in his pocket. Probably mixing up with Derek's friends these past few weeks had made him become far more confident in himself. He looked like he owned the very air in this penthouse.
"I missed you, baby," he said.
I looked at him, really looked at him. The audacity he had to say such words to me again was so insane.
"Don't," I said. My voice was steady. "Don't you ever talk to me ever again. I don't know you."
He chuckled, taking a step toward me. He still looked handsome. It was gross. "You are still dramatic. Can't a guy check on his friend?"
- Writer
