[Trigger Warning: Brief discussion of childhood physical abuse.]

Taking a shaking breath, I try and stop myself from thinking any more about Stacy. I'm mid opening my door when someone says my name, sounding surprised. It's Scott.

"Hey," I greet quietly as he walks up to me, smiling.

"We're hall neighbors, my room is right...down...there..." He's close enough to see my face now and frowns. "You okay, mate?"

I don't even have the energy to pretend I am. I also don't have the energy to care. "I'm starting to think there's not a single good thing that has happened in my life."

The actor looks deeply concerned. "Er...do you want to talk?"

I consider it a moment, but then I shake my head. "It's okay. It's almost nine o'clock, room time—"

Scott on some level must know how grateful I am when he wraps an arm around my shoulders, shutting my door and gently leading me down the hall. Once he has me steered the right way he removes his arm. For a while we walk down the empty hall, a comfortable silence between us.

"Outside or inside?"

I look at him. "Huh?"

"Did you want to go smoke or go to the rec room?"

"Oh. Rec room is fine."

We're--thankfully--the only one's. Scott follows me as I wordlessly go to some corner chairs. They're plush and comfortable, and I curl up into one immediately. For a long while I don't say anything, resting my head on the arm of the chair as I stare at the lamp providing us light.

"So...What does a rockstar like to do for fun?"

I give him a very apathetic look. Scott clears his throat and cracks his neck. As he rolls his shoulders, I look back at the lamp, brushing my fingers against the pearlescent baby blue porcelain the base is made from.

"Alright," he says. "My childhood was fucked."

I look at him. "Scott, you don't have to--"

"It culminated with my dad tossing me out my bedroom window."

My eyes go wide. I don't know what to say to that. I literally am speechless.

"Alright, tossing isn't correct. He pushed me, my window was open, so down I went. It was a genuine accident."

I frown up at him, and to my surprise he laughs. "I mean, tumbling out of the window was an accident. Bastard meant to push me."

"What happened?" I finally said.

"Well luckily, or unluckily, my fall was broken by my dad's workbench. I destroyed the bench, the bench destroyed my back. I needed therapy for a while, for my back."

"How old were you?"

"Ten."

I wince. "What did your mom do?"

"She...It was...messy."

When Scott doesn't elaborate, I switch gears. "You have a sister, right?"

"Yeah, Claudia."

"She's an actress too, right?"

"Yup."

"Older, younger?"

"Younger. What about you, any siblings?"

"A sister and two brothers, all younger."

Scott smiled. "Do you all get along?"

"Yeah," I say, and really for the first time that day I find myself smiling. "My sister Amy and I are two peas in a pod, which is funny because she's the youngest. My brothers and I, well...We're alright."

"Just alright?"

I look up at Scott again. "It's--complicated."

Scott holds up his hands a second and smiles. "Say no more."

So I don't.

"Parents?"

I let out a bitter laugh. "I think your dad and my dad would've gotten along great."

"Ah. Abusive?"

"Horribly so. In every way imaginable."

Scott cocks his right eyebrow. However, I merely look back at the lamp. For a long while we sit in silence. Scott appears to be deep in thought, so I just lazily brush my fingertips along the lamp. I don't mind this, just sitting here. Scott, to my relief, doesn't seem to mind it, either.

I open my mouth and nearly blurt something out. Luckily I catch myself. However, Scott heard my deep intake of breath when I almost spoke and looked at me. I could feel myself color.

"Can I ask you something? Something--uh, personal?"

Once again his eyebrow shoots up. "Uh...I--I guess. Sure, Bauwens. Ask me anything."

I lick my lips a moment, trying to fathom how I'm going to put this. "Who did you lose your virginity to?"

He barks out a laugh and I startle. Immediately mortified, I sit up. "I-I'm sorry--that was wildly inappropriate--"

"Her name was Brittnay," he replies with a fond smile. "I had been totally into her all year. We ended up hooking up at a drunken frat party."

That makes me chuckle, and I relax a bit.

"By that time I had started acting and doing model work on the side. I guess she had seen a commercial I was in, and it really tickled her. She started talking me up, I started feeling her up, and yeah." He grins.

Somehow that makes me feel ten times worse. Here he was, with nothing but fond memories.

"You?" he asks.

"Me?" I squeak. I then clear my throat. "Oh, uh, Stacy. Her name was Stacy."

When I don't continue, Scott pries. "Really, that's it?"

I shrug. "Well, I mean, she killed herself, but--"

Scott gasps. "Bloody hell, Orion!"

"What?" I ask, not liking the panic to my voice.

"Just, you said that like you were telling me what the bloody weather was like outside!"

"Oh. I mean--just. Yeah. Uh, it--it is what it is." I squeak the last part awkwardly. "I mean, not like I can bring her back from the dead, yaknow?"

Silence, but this time it's awkward. Or at least it feels awkward on my end.

"You know what I think?" Scott says suddenly.

I jump in my chair. "N-no. What?"

"I was just thinking about what you said to me in the hallway."

"I said something to you in the hallway?"

Scott briefly rolls his eyes. "Outside your room when I ran into you?"

"Oh."

"You told me you didn't think there was a single good thing that had happened in your life."

I look up at Scott as he gets to his feet. As he speaks, he smiles at me and pats my knee. "You lit up like a Christmas tree talking about your little sister. Hold onto that, alright?"

I'm so stunned all I can do is stare up at him. His smile changes, and he taps my shoulder then. "You look like death warmed over. You should get some sleep."

"Yeah." I get to my feet. "Yeah, I should."

Wordlessly we shuffle away. I follow Scott to his room, seeing as mine is further down.

"Night, Bauwens."

"Goodnight." I hesitate. "Hey, thanks for talking, Scott."

"Don't mention it."

He grins at me and my knees feel weak. Shoving my hands into my pants pockets, I hurry down the hallway. Unlocking my room, I scramble inside and flip on the light switch once the door is shut.

The rooms are basically a hotel room. From the doorway, one has a clear view of the bed off to the left. I had, up until right now, forgotten I had draped the black fleece blanket over my bed. Tisking, I rushed over.

It was dead silent. I stood in front of my bed, hands on my hips, scowling down at the item that once brought me such joy. I wanted it out of my sight. Truthfully I wanted to burn it. However I knew if I did something so drastically final like that I would probably end up regretting it. So instead I merely rip it from the bed, fold it, and shove it far beneath the bed. Kicking my shoes off I then flopped into bed, not even bothering with pajamas.

I was deeply asleep within minutes, even with my pounding head and everything.