My hands hold tight to the edge of the roof. The skyline of the city twinkles like millions of stars. It truly is a breath taking view, the city at night vibrates with electricity every night. It's a beast that'll never be tamed.
"I can see why you wanted to come here." Zen says behind me, his feet crunch over tiny pebbles that cover the roof as he approaches. I stare out at the vast light show, and rest my elbows on the ledge.
"West Brooke is full of things you want to look at. But this." I out stretch my hands gesturing to the towering buildings, "It called to me, ya know? It's all I wanted." Zen eases closer to my side and holds his arm around me. I fall into his arms seeking warmth and understanding. His leather jacket feels cold on my cheek while I nustle the side of my face into his chest, still watching the city pulse around me.

"You're the strongest person I know. Do you know that?" His voice muffles into the top of my head. I cough out a laugh, "I don't know about that." Zen pulls his body away from me, leaning to eye level, "I'm serious." He says firmly. "I don't know anyone who could stand and fight after what's happened to you." Brisk wind blows his hair into a frenzy. The dim glow of lights that swirm us gives his eyes a haunted glint. I can't decide if he's crying, or if the wind has stung his eyes. I turn away from them feeling as though if I stay too long inside them they'll see my demons.

I pace along the edge of the roof, "I need to do something before we leave." I tell him. "Alone." I demand. "You're not going anywhere alone, Chloe. It's too dangerous." He protests, turning me to meet his face. His brows crease causing his cheek muscles to fall, taking his smile away and replacing it with a half open mouth that puckers with just the right amount of annoyance. "I'll be okay." Steam boils from my nose, "You can walk me to the door, but I'm going in alone."
"Where?"
"There are a few things I left in my art class, I can't leave without them." The tone in my voice tells, Zen that I mean business, and that I won't be swayed. I must spend my last moments in the art room with only my thoughts to give a proper goodbye to my future.
"Fine." Zen agrees.

Inside, the heat swirling through an endless maze of vents that hide in the flesh of the hotel swallows us in warmth. The nipping at the tip of my nose sizzles as my body begins to thaw; a feeling I know all too well. Twenty stories high, the staircase seems endless until the eighteenth floor meets us offering an elevator. Out of breath, and panting we accept the offer by stepping in and riding the rest of the way to the tenth floor in silence. Since, Avery was released words have failed the people who surround me. I imagine they don't know what to say. Zen, my parents, the girls, even Travis has a hard time putting together a sentence around me.

The elevator is surprisingly large, boasting a crystal chandelier, and gold trim. Faint lullaby jazz hums from somewhere above our heads, the smallest of conversation would drown the music it's so low. Zen clutches a rail the wraps the enclosed space turning his knuckles white. I watch out of the corner of my eye as he gulps when the bottom thuds as we reach our floor. I restrain my smile. The doors breeze open, at an inch apart I notice a face on the other side. The doors open wide like an unveiling gate.
"Ms. Thomas?" Detective Sands twangs. I see the corner of his mouth twitch just a hair as he looks to, Zen.
"Is something wrong?" I take a single step out of the elevator. A woman pushing a baby stroller sporting three wheels squeezes past the three of us down the hallway. She sushes the baby in the stroller, but I hear no sound from the infant.

"Ms.Thomas.." Sands begins.
"Please. Call me, Chloe."
"Chloe." He smiles. "I just wanted to check in and see how you were. My captain has given the green light for you to go back home whenever you're ready." He says with a continuing nod. The twitch at his mouth takes over his face with a toothy smile.
Zen sighs while pulling me closer to him.
"So we could leave now?" Zen asks.
"Sure. Whenever you want. But you will have to be here for the trial." Sands answers leading us down the hall to our room. I slip the card key into the door and go in as soon as the light flashes green. My mother rushes to the door to me and strokes my arms.
"Chloe my god! You're almost frozen." Her attempt to warm me up stops when her attention turns to, Sands.
"Detective? What's going on?" She reaches to her chest.
"It's okay, Mom. We can go home now." My mothers face relaxes. Soon my father, and the girls notice the commotion and aproach.  My father and, Sands shake hands at the crowded door.
"Please, come in detective." My father offers. Sands accepts his offer. We form into a large huddle like circle around the couch area of the suite. I look around the room at the faces of the people I love. It dawns on me that they're all here to protect me, care for me, and help me along the rough path that's been thrust upon me. Suddenly I don't feel so cold. I feel like a burden.

My parents take a seat on the couch while the rest of the room stands, some lean into tables and chairs for support; bracing themselves for the blow of bad news. Sands looks nervous.
"As you all know, Avery Duncan has been released. He will wear an ankle monitor and be on house arrest at his parents house until the trial." Sands decides to sit in the nearest chair, his voice shakes just a hint. Not a public speaker I suppose. "I know that sounds scary, but there will be an officer outside his house at all times. Now that the exam is over you can go home but you'll have to come back for the trial." The tension in the room releases. I hadn't noticed it was so thick until it fell like a puff of smoke.

Of course I'm delighted to go home, but the moment forces a bitter taste to consume my mouth. In the thick of the room filled with police, family, and friends I fade into the shadows. All I can think of is, Avery and this child growing inside me. I inch backward, one tiny step after another until the subject of conversation shifts from me to the questions of constant body guards outside my chidhood home back in West Brooke. Once I know I'm out of sight through the door that I decide to leave open, I break into a full sprint.

My leather boots dig into the soft carpet that covers every floor. In the back of my mind I applaud myself for not wearing heels. With not a single clue of my direction or destination I just run. Doors pass by my eyes faster and faster, much like my racing thoughts. Avery, the baby, the trial, leaving New York; my heart sinks deeper with each pounding stride of my feet. One more night, New York. Just once more.

I speed out of the front lobby, past the door man.
"Miss! Are you alright?" The husky bearded man yells behind me, but I ignore him. I round the corner and slow my pace to a creeping halt. My hair, choppy and too short wisps around my jaw as I bend at the hip. My hands plant into my knees, panting and dizzy I glance through my bangs to the street. The camera crews, and reporters have called it a night, the sidewalk is abandoned despite the oncoming taxi rolling   in my direction. I rise from my out of breath position, advance to the curb and throw my arm high into the air in true New York fashion. The cab slowly pulls over and welcomes me to slide in, and I do.

The car reeks of tuna salad and cheap cologne.
"Where to?" The cabbys bold voice almost vibrates the seats. His hair is thin, combed over to hide a balding top, and comically slick with oil. Just before the dim glow of the overhead light fades to dark I spot what looks like a fur collar only to realize it's in fact thick, black, and curly hair protruding from the collar of his shirt.

My stomach turns, "Times Square." I hold my nose. The ride takes twelve, breath holding minutes. I toss the fare into the front seat and get out of the car as fast as I can. If I am to leave tonight, or even in the early hours of the morning I simply can't leave without embracing the hive-like nature of the city in full bloom. In the heart of the night when the lights twist your mind into believing that sleep only exists in small towns. I thump a quarter into the air, it lands inside an open guitar case followed by a nodding thank you from a struggling musician strumming an acoustic guitar.

The people in this particular area are diverse, each one unlike the other but they all have one thing in common. Their attention is pointed as high as their necks will allow them to crane upward. Dozens of building-high posters advertise Broadway shows, towering photos of super models pouting their lips. There is no fighting my smile here, it's too incredible to feel sorrow while millions of bulbs dance around you. A street wide screen towers above the poeple below. It's a news broadcast with a familiar anchor woman and a red strip across the bottom that reads "Breaking News". Monstrous speakers bellow from somewhere unseen. My body, along with my sudden burst of twinkle light joy breaks when my face; large as a highway billboard shines high above Times Square.

"Breaking news tonight," the anchor womans firm tone blares, "Chloe Thomas, alleged rape victim of, Avery Duncan is making quite the stir on campus as this video shows," a shaky out of focus video clip, obviously shot with a cell phone depicts myself going toe to toe with the Omegas. "Witnesses who were there at the campus hangout known as Lavas Java report that, Thomas seemed unhinged and possibly intoxicated. It has been confirmed that, Ms. Thomas is in fact pregnant. Duncan, famously known as the president of his fraterity on campus at Turner University was released on bond and has been instructed to wear an ankle monitor. Sources have not confirmed if, Thomas was in fact intoxicated but they can confirm that she's been given the okay to return to her home town of, West Brooke Virgina." My pulse drums in my ears. I can feel the blood flooding to my reddening face. I need to get out of here! The broadcast grabs the attention of the people who surround me. The hood of, Zens jacket flaps over my head to shield my identity from the mob of viewers that have stopped dead in their tracks to listen.

"The bomb dropping accusations have blown Turners campus into a frenzy. Marcus Halter, Dean of students at the distinguished University held a press conference today and had this to say," the freeze frame of my enraged face fades and is replaced with a recording of, Dean Halter speaking into multi colored microphones with puffy covers.
"We pride ourselves on the conduct of our students. I will been looking further into the case with campus security. We've instructed all fraternity and sorority houses to refrain from any and all parties and mixers. This is the kind of thing that sets a lot of female, and even male students on edge. We won't be accepting any questions right now."

The deans face shows concern with his pink fat cheeks, and lowered grey brow but I've seen his face before. Upon my arrival to college I never met the dean. Not even on my tour of campus given by, Kat. I never shook the mans hand when awarded my scholarship, or sat in a leather chair in his office. I knew I had seen his face the moment it popped on screen. The night I drugged, Avery the night he removed his belt loop by loop, and found himself in a heap on his bedroom floor I seen this mans face. It was a photo on his desk, the men in the photo looked to be laughing. The kind of laugh that requires your back to arch and your belly to jiggle. The dean and, Averys father were standing on a beach. The ocean behind them was washed over with tones of grey, black, and white. They were younger but I know their faces. Age doesn't touch the wealthy. Their tanned arms stretched around one another, their teeth shined bright, as did their matching Omega tee shirts.

...

During the broadcast I managed to sneak away unnoticed  and hail another cab. Back at the hotel I open the room door, hooded, and broken. Aching to escape myself and my mistakes I close the door behind me. Inside the scurrying of my parents, Zen, Ava, and police all on a phone in search of me look to me with wide eyes. I appear to be shivering, and affraid. The impact of my face, my horrifying truths, my tainted name becoming a media circus has crippled my spirit. The room remains silent and unmoving. I stay quiet, with the light in my eyes dismissed I venture throughout the room holding a dufflebag while throwing my few belongings brought from the dorms into the bag. My anger increases with each piece of clothing I jam in. Finally I storm to the bathroom and retrieve my toothbrush and stuff it in also. My loved ones watch in confusion as I step out of the bathroom and face them. In shock of my odd behavior they remain frozen in place still holding their phones as they watch me.

"Let's go home." My voice monotone and drained. My mother who had been using a phone book returns the hotel phone on the hook, "I'm aware of the time." I say before she can object. "I just want to leave. Tonight. Right now please."

I don't give them time to think it over. I exit the room, pop my head back in, "I'll be in the lobby." I assure them and close the door once again. I make my way to the lobby and plop down on a brown leather sofa that rests cozy beside a crackling fire. It reminds me of the stone firepit in my backyard. As predicted I turn away in embarrasment when, Zen finds and sits next to me.

"What happened?" His hand finds the center of my slumped back. I hide my tears by gazing into the fire.
"There was a news break." I whisper. "I wanted to be famous for my art, not this. My face. . .It's everywhere. I can't escape myself, what's happened to me. I don't want to talk about it anymore." I use the too long sleeve of the comfortable hoodie to swipe away a tear. While I lose myself into the gentle flames of the fireplace I can't help but wonder what, Avery is doing now that his eyes aren't hidden and watching me from a shadow.