"Ruiz."

I breathed in hard, suddenly awoken. No, I didn't want to wake up.

"Ruiz. It's 6pm. We have to get ready. Come on, I'll do your face."

I rolled over.

"Come on. Do I have to tickle you?" A little, adorable giggle. "Were you napping?"

I groaned. No, I was having a nice dream. About Ambrose. He was here with me, hugging me in the dark. I could hear his breathing.

"Was it a nice dream?"

"Mmm...nice dream..." I groaned, whipping my arm over my eyes to block out the light.

"Aww. I bet it was. But we have to get ready now."

"No."

"Sweetie."

"No."

"I'm going to tickle you."

"Mmmm...no."

"Do you want to sleep some more?"

"Si."

"Si. Okay. I'll get ready first. We have four hours. I'll come check on you later."

"Si."

"Siii. Cute." Warm moisture on my cheek. I groaned again at it.

I heard a door squeak and lightly tap. The darkness wasn't fully restored. I rolled over back to my comfortable position and sighed deeply, pulling the thick blanket over my head. A bump hindered me under my elbow, and frustrated, I felt around it. My hand nudge something solid but with give. Fingering the object, my hand recognized it. It was Wally.

I let out all of my air. Ambrose.

The sound of the shower pulsating came on beyond the far wall. Immediately, a familiar voice followed, the one that had just been in the room with me. It was a dense humming, twirling to me from the wall. It was "True Colors" by Cyndi Lauper, sung by somebody I knew.

My sleepy head almost couldn't comprehend it. I rolled over on my back, my eyes opening. The door squeaked again, the light flooding in as it opened. It was like a ghost. I jerked up into a sitting position, staring at it. But from up here, I could see the bottom of the door. Standing in relief was a fluffy cat. It was Baby Doll, staring at me.

"Baby Doll," I sighed. Hearing her name, she jumped forward onto the bed. With a heavy thump she landed on my feet. She settled down, then rolled onto her back, legs akimbo, hoping for tummy rubs. But this only reminded me more of Ambrose, because Ambrose was the one who taught her to expect that.

Ambrose.

The humming got louder, the water slapping on the floor of the tub twice.

Thunk!

I jumped in the bed and Baby Doll jumped at mine, causing her to get back upright.

"Soap!" Ambrose's voice gasped from beyond the wall.

Ambrose. He was here, taking a shower. He was right there, dropping the soap.

The humming started up again, this time a different song. A song I knew too well. "That's 'Take a Bow'," I said to Baby Doll. I gave in and rubbed her bunny-like head. An immediate purr started up. She was expecting me to pet her down, but I didn't have time for that. "I'm going to take a shower," I told her, removing the covers from my legs.

Pausing, I stretched high and wide as I sat on the edge of the bed. Large paws pressed against the base of my back, one at a time.

"I have to go," I told her, getting up finally. It felt wobbly on my feet after so much sleep, and a slight pounding was in my head. I'd really slept too long. Without looking back, I walked out of the room.

In the hallway, the sound of the water was even louder. Waves of it cascaded, hitting the tub floor. It sounded like he was washing his hair already. With a click, I opened the door and snuck in, pressing my back to it like a spy.

"Hmm?" came his alarmed voice from behind the white curtain. I didn't answer, just slipped off my nightie and my underwear. I let my bra fall down on the floor on top of the pile. Naked and suddenly cold. I slid back the curtain on its rail quickly and precariously stepped over the tall lip of the bath. Immediately, his large hands met me, steadying my shoulders. "Ruiz?" he asked softly, very close to me.

"Ambrose," I breathed out, studying his body. Warm steam was rising off it, the bath water hot.

"I miss you," he said, his words sounding so sincere.

I shook my head.

"Sweetie, I'm sorry."

I shook my head again, turning away from him. Like the water flooding around my feet, came the memories beyond my dream. Why I had to dream of him.

"You didn't come home."

"I'm sorry." Sad words. Regretful, maybe with a little shame.

"Why didn't you come home? You said you were going to come home."

Gently, a scratchy washcloth began rubbing my back. It was very warm, but the movements were sad.

"I couldn't come home."

"Yes, you could."

"I couldn't. I'm...sorry." He said the last word like he didn't want to. Reluctant. He'd said too many sorries.

"Why not?"

"I can't-"

"You can't tell me."

The washcloth stopped on my mid-back. I shivered despite the hot water. Even though I was mad at him, I still wanted him to wash me. I still wanted him. My hands flew over my face, squeezing my features. Guilty feelings at myself, at him. Feelings I didn't want. "Please wash my back," I breathed, the damp air filling my lungs, the smell of the soap.

But instead, his hand was on my wrist. Then his other hand was on the opposite wrist. Gently, they pulled my hands away from my face. They traveled down to my waist, wrapping around me. Without a word, he pulled me backwards to his body. He was so warm.

His chin descended to my shoulder, and his face pressed against my cheek. He didn't say anything, but I knew his words.

He was sorry, again, needing me. I needed him, too, but I didn't know how much more of his sorries I could take. The water dropped down my body, down my legs. The white foam of the conditioner from his hair fell down me in hot trails. His hair against my face was so soft. It was slightly wavy in the wet.

I didn't know what to say. My lungs joined his as the rhythm of his rising and falling ribs imprinted on my back. As I listened to his slow breathing, I realized he didn't know what to say either.

In our room again, I was stuffing things into my purse. I'd taken off my blush pink lace gloves to better complete this task, because if the fabric caught on something and pulled it would be a disaster. Though, I found I didn't care very much. But more so, I cared about how important this was to Ambrose. Even though I was mad at him, frustrated, he'd taken so much care to get me and himself ready for the event. I'd seen how intently he'd stared at my eyes, getting my eyeliner to wing just perfect, drawing dark pink on my waterlines and bringing them out in extensions to match the wings. My eyes were pink, black, and white masterpieces. I was his palette and he'd turned me into a much beloved work of art.

Love.

I sat on the bed, pausing in my work. He was in the sewing room, sewing himself into his dress. It was such a tight form and the zipper had been ripply at the last minute. He'd panicked, told me to get me purse ready and he'd be out in a little bit. It was now 8:30. We had some time. The idea of Tony and everybody at the club climbed into my thoughts and I had to shake my head to keep from getting overwhelmed.

I was embarrassed. I'd told Tony so much and he'd already known so much about our situation anyway. Who else knew? The worry and shame grew in my chest like a scratchy bird's nest and I rubbed it with my fist.

My kabuki brush. I needed that in case I had to powder. Where was it? It wasn't on the vanity. Was it in the drawer? I got up to look and the comforter shifted under me as the old pilling cotton caught on my lace trim.

Thump!

Shoot. What happened? The sound of pooling plastic hitting plastic clattered behind me. I spun around, realizing.

On the bed, Baby Doll had gotten up as the comforter shifted and with this Ambrose's purse had tipped over with mine. Make-up from his bag had dumped out as well as tissues and other things like his day planner. I sighed, seeing I had to put these things back in his bag. What if he had an order to it all in there? Would it mess him up tonight? My heart pulled, thinking about how much I cared how important tonight was to him even though I was upset with him.

I leaned over on the bed as Baby Doll joined me, trying to get under my hands to be pet, revenge from earlier when I didn't do it.

"Baby Doll, I gotta put this stuff back in. Come on, I gotta-"

I paused. Baby Doll stared at me, not moving, her blue eyes wide.

"What..." My hand swam in the make-up, the plastic sounds the only sounds in the world beyond my thickly beating heart. My hand descended over...but it was impossible.

My fingers brought a small white bag up to my face and my eyes couldn't comprehend what they were seeing.

Because in between my fingers was a small bag with white powder in it.

My breath caught. My eyes traveled to the dumped out contents of his white purse, swimming over it all. My lungs wanted to burst, but I couldn't breathe.

Among the black eyeliner and the lipsticks and the tri-color eye palettes were about twenty small bags of cocaine.

"A-...Ambrose..." I whispered, unable to say it any louder. All of the air had left my body. My hand began to shake and the little bag in my hand fell on the floor. I didn't hear it land on the carpet. Baby Doll got up and I watched her go over to the dumped out contents of his bag, and this is what brought me back to reality. Sickening reality. "No, Baby Doll! Get away from that!" I yelled, startling myself. I grabbed her, shoving her off the opposite side of the bed, throwing my body on the bed in the process. Due to my weight, the stuff from the bag started shifting towards me and I scrambled back up again to get away from it, too.

My breathing started coming in gasps. Staring at the rolled contents, there seemed to be even more bags. So many. Where had they come from? Ambrose...why were there so many?

Oh god... My body started to shudder, his words flooding in my head.

I can't tell you where I went. I can't tell you.

"Ambrose...Ambrose..." I wailed, my hands over my mouth.

"Yes? Why are you yelling? Did you mess up your make-up?"

Oh god... Oh god...

"Ambro-ose...why..." I turned to him. He'd stopped in the doorway. His face was one of complete horror, pointed at the bed. His pretty, dark pink mouth was open. The horror descended into despair, his eyes twin pools of his grief.

With no words, he backed out the way he came in a shuffle. He could hardly move because his mermaid shaped dress was so tight. I heard a loud thump outside the door, against the wall. A long rip of clothing accompanied this like strange music.

"Ambrose...why." I didn't really want to know the answer, but I couldn't stop myself from asking. My wails were turning animal.

Gasped sobbing, quiet sobbing, answered me beyond the doorway. Muffled.

"Why..." I whispered. My knees felt weak.

"I meant for you to see that." Shaking words in the sobs.

"Ambrose..." I couldn't think. The room was starting to spin.

"I- I need help... Ruiz... I need help..."

"What..."

"Help me... God, please help me..." A high trail of baby crying came from him, more muffled. Desperate cries. To my left, I saw Baby Doll skitter across the floor. She twirled around the doorway, disappearing to her owner.

What was happening? "What...the hell..." I whispered.

"I'm... I'm addicted to cocaine... Ruiz..." He coughed, choking on his breathing. My knees finally gave way and I ended up on the bed, laid on my side, unable to move, staring at the doorway.

What the hell was going on? Where had my world gone in the last few seconds?

"I need... I need...you..." he gasped.

The sound of a key biting into the front door's lock shocked me back. I shot up on the bed. Was I dreaming? No, because he was still out there, crying. His hand fell into the doorway, splayed and weak looking. One of his fingers was connected to the delicate lace of the train of his dress.

The dress. The event. Oh god. No.

No. No. NO!

The front door squeaked as it swung open and my eyes widened in alert. My hand scrambled backwards, finding the double loops of my black purse and I shot up from my bed.

Without a second thought, I scrambled out into the hallway, avoiding looking down at Ambrose, but I saw him anyway. He was staring at me, his eyes looking sunken in his desperate tears. The dark liquid, tears mixed with black and pink eyeliner, had trailed down all over his face, making him look like a monster to me. Down his side, where he'd sewn himself into the dress, the new seam had ripped apart as he'd slid down the wall, the white of his corset peeking out. He was a complete mess.

Standing before me was Miss Cha Cha dressed in her long, brick red coat. She was staring at both of us in shock. Her mouth opened, but before we could hear a word I dashed past her, bumping into her violently and losing my footing for a brief moment but I regained it as I ran down the stairs and into the night.

Behind me, haunting me down the front path, was the sound of Ambrose wailing my name like a wounded animal, mirroring my own feelings inside. I stopped next to Miss Cha Cha's car, breathing too heavily. The air was thin, hurting my lungs. From beyond the open front door I could hear Ambrose in the hallway, screaming in agony. I could hear Miss Cha Cha desperately asking him what was wrong and that she was going to go get me.

Her last words were what made me run. I ran away as fast as I could.