ELAINE – 15 DAYS AGO

The streetlights barely reach Graham. He's standing in the darkness, his hair and his shirt swaying in the warm breeze. Tension grows between us.

"I told you to come to the party, Elaine." He says and comes closer.

Something is strange about him. Well, stranger than usual. He looks slightly unhinged. His gaze is sliding over my dress and my face. My heart thuds rhythmically against my ribcage.

"I came." I answer, not sure what his remark means.

"I didn't tell you to speak to me." Graham smirks, like his commands were obvious.

I take a step back, "I'm sorry. I thought you wanted people to know."

"On my own terms." Graham rolls his eyes, as if I should have known better.

I swallow the gulp of fresh air, "I- I'm sorry. Nobody saw me, I swear."

My gaze takes in the rooftop. It's empty, everyone's downstairs. I'm not sure they even know they can come here. Shit, I curse internally. I was so busy trying to find him that I didn't even consider that meeting him alone on the rooftop might not be such a good idea.

"It's fine." Graham looks away, surprising me. "You misbehaved, but no one saw you. So, I guess it's okay."

I say nothing. This might not be a good time to talk to him after all.

"You said you wanted to talk to me." He stares at the city underneath.

"You know, we can talk later." I let out a strained chuckle. "I'm sure you'd love to get back to your party. I mean, so many people came and they all want to see you-"

"Elaine." Graham faces me; darkness devours his eyes. "Talk."

I take another step back, "It's nothing really-"

Graham is in front of me in a second, his tall figure looms over my much smaller body and is hand snakes under my hair. He grabs the nape of my neck and pulls me closer.

"Talk." His voice resembles a growl.

Panic surges through me. His piercing eyes skitter over my face. I'm pretty sure he can feel the beating of my heart.

"I'm late." I stutter.

"Where?" He frowns.

If it were anyone else other than this raging psychopath, I'd laugh.

"No, I mean-" I clear my throat. "My period is late."

Graham lets go of my neck and takes a step back, "What?"

My heartbeat picks up the pace, "Four days."

"That's not a lot." His eye squints.

"No." I sigh and begin to pace, careful to move away from him without him noticing. "But my period is never late. And... well..."

"What?" Graham demands. "Tell me."

"The night we were at the Druid..." I can't even finish the sentence. "I was... well, I was ovulating that night."

Graham's eyes widen, and for the slightest moment, gentleness I've never seen before flashes in the piercing blue. I wonder if there's a messed-up person inside, someone who doesn't know any better, someone who truly thinks this is how love works.

Then I realise I'm going to need at least three therapists to work through this.

When he doesn't speak, I continue, "I don't... I can't remember. What happened...?"

"I fucked you." The gentleness if gone. "That night. You know I did."

My heart sinks.

"I know." I nod. "But... did you...?"

"Goddamn, Elaine." Graham laughs. "Don't be pathetic and finish a sentence. You want to know if I finished inside of you? I did."

My limbs go limp, my vision turns hazy. The wine is finally kicking in.

But I can't fall apart now, not when this just might be my ticket out of this entire thing. Graham can't possibly want anything to do with this.

"Then, my period might not be late due to stress." I say, trying to keep myself from shaking.

Tomorrow. I'll deal with the possible pregnancy tomorrow, when I'll have done the test. Tonight, I scare him away. Tonight, I deal with what's in front of me.

"Are you going to take the test?" Graham's expression is unreadable and it's only slightly freaking me out.

"Yes." I nod quickly. "First thing tomorrow."

"Good." Graham's gaze jumps across the floor. "We don't want to celebrate before we're certain."

My mind halts.

What?

The world stills around me, the traffic underneath us quiets, the music coming from Graham's penthouse stops as someone changes song, even the breeze stops swaying for a moment, as if the entire universe is stopping everything to give me time to comprehend.

"Celebrate?" My voice is nothing but a whisper.

The world continues moving, the muffled sounds of music reach my ears, the wind rustles around us.

A small smile lifts up Graham's cheeks, "A dad... Ha, I've never thought I'd like the sound of that."

Panic slams into me, stronger than anything I've ever experienced. My body begins to tremble from the inside out, my vision blurs, the world spins.

"No!" I shout. "No, no, no!"

Graham's eyes cut through me; full of malice and insanity. His words completely contradict his expression.

"We should go to a drugstore now. You can take the pregnancy test, just so we're certain."

I take a step back.

"No way." I whisper.

But my body feels weak. A hole opens up in my mind, ready to swallow me hole.

"It's alright." Graham smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "I'm sure you'll be a great mother. And if this happens to be a false alarm, we'll continue working on the baby."

Claustrophobia washes over me, thick and tense under the dark, open sky. My heartbeat quickens, it slams against my ribcage, disabling me from thinking, from breathing. I'm going to die. I'm going to collapse and choke on my own tears.

"You can't-" I blubber, unable to finish the sentence.

"We can even get married." Graham grins. "I'm sure my parents will love you."

He's going to trap me.

He's going to keep me locked in a room forever.

And the longer this lasts, the harder it will be to leave.

"You can't make me." I squeeze the words through my teeth. "I'll go to the cops, I'll tell them everything, I'll-"

"You'll what?" Graham laughs. "Did you see all those people downstairs?"

My mind stops working again as confusion floods it.

"They all think you're stalking me." Graham grins. "They think you're obsessed with me, even your precious Josh. No one is going to believe you. There's no evidence, Elaine."

My shoulders slump. There's nothing I can do. I'll never escape.

Darkness settles over me, a sudden eclipse of the mind. I feel myself falling into the pit of apathy, and nothing, not sunshine, not happiness, not even sadness reaches the bottom.

It feels like every molecule of my body suddenly quiets down, stops moving or protesting.

"Still think going to the cops is a good idea?" Graham asks.

"No." My voice lost all its colour.

"Wipe your tears, angel." Graham approaches and caresses my cheek with the back of him palm. "I don't like seeing your cry."

My hand reaches inside the bag like I'm conditioned to immediately listen to his demands. Perhaps I am. I know I am.

I frown and look down.

"What?" Graham notices the change in my expression.

I stare at the bag in my hand. The colour, the size and the clasp are right. But this bag isn't mine. This one's Dior.

"I have the wrong bag." I murmur.

Graham laughs, "Gosh, you're dumb. Whose bag did you take?"

"I- I don't know." I lie, realising this bag gives me the excuse I need to talk to Adora Arison. "A bunch of people showed up and I guess I lost mine-"

"I hope our child gets my brain." Graham mocks me.

I go through the bag, pretending to search for an ID, "I guess I should return this. I'll-"

A black, metallic glint catches my eye.

"Alright." Graham sighs. "We can go to the drugstore when I send all these people home."

But I barely hear him. My field of vision narrows and blackens as my hand envelops the cold, metal thing. A small, throaty laugh slips off my lips.

"What?" Graham asks. "What did you find?"

I step away, out of his reach, but he doesn't seem to notice.

"Are you ever going to let me go?" I barely register saying the question out loud.

"What are you talking about?" Graham lets out a laugh. "I love you. Why would I ever let you go?"

I feel like I'm shaking, but I'm not. I'm calm, almost eerily calm. My heartbeat calms down and my breathing evens out. There's a safety on the gun, set at safe. I move it to fire.

"Elaine..." Graham's voice normalizes, the slight hint of madness disappears. "What's wrong?"

I pull the gun out.

Graham's eyes widen with shock and surprise and he takes a step back, his hands flying up in the air on instinct.

"What the fuck?!" He shouts. "Elaine, put that down! What are you doing?"

My body wants to listen to him, it's been conditioned to listen to him, but my mind is cold, blank, inaccessible. There's nothing rational inside of me, only the need to get away from him. Only hatred.

I'm crossing a line. But he's crossed a line, too. He decided he could toy with me.

"Elaine." Graham's voice lowers, his eyes narrow. "Put that down."

I come closer.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, a small voice is trying to shout, it's reminding me this isn't a good idea, it's telling me to put the gun down and walk away, but that same voice has led me to trouble before. It's told me to trust people, to believe in the good in people.

Graham lets out a small, nervous laugh, because he's noticing the numbness, the coldness in my eyes.

"Come on, Elaine, stop messing around. Please."

Images flash before my eyes. Graham pinning me to the bed, throwing me to the floor, pushing his tongue past my teeth into my mouth. I press the gun against his teeth. His eyes bulge, water gathers in the corners, saliva drips from his lips.

"I'll let you go." I say slowly. "If you let me go."

Graham nods, "Alright-"

The moment he opens his mouth, I push the gun inside.

Eclipse of the mind, they say.

I pull the trigger.

The sound bursts from the gun, shushed by the loud music and the traffic. Only I can hear it explode in my ears. The impact pushes me away and I stumble on the floor. Graham falls down. His eyes are wide open, bulging, blood-shot. His head hits the concrete, a pool of blood forms underneath him, pieces of tissue cover the scene.

"Oh, my God." I whisper. "Oh, my God."

Emotions drown me one by one. Absolute, deafening panic floods my mind, my limbs, my insides. I begin to tremble.

No, no, no. What the hell?!

What did I do? What?

Oh, my God!

Oh, God!

Tears burst from my eyes, loud blubbering sounds fall off my lips, I stagger back, my legs almost give out.

What the fuck? What? Oh, God!

Thoughts run through my head one by one, telling me to run, to hide, to jump off the rooftop, to shoot myself. I can't focus, I can't think, I can't breathe.

"Well, fuck me."

I jump up and turn around.

Adora Arison is standing at the door, my bag in her hand.