Act 1 | Chapter 18

"You don't have to stay with me. You can go back to school." I said, sitting down onto Riley's couch, with the trunk of art stuff rolled up next to it. If was going to stay home from school, I might as well get something done. Riley had helped me move the trunk into her car and drove me to her apartment with it.

"Nah, today's lessons are going to be boring anyway." Riley shook her head.

"You really don't have to," I replied, sniffling a bit more and rubbing my nose.

"Look, I'm serious. I don't want anyone else to harm you today, and I wanna make sure of it. Which is why I'm staying with you. In my house."

I took a long, and deep breath before smiling a small bit and rolling my eyes.

"Alright. Fine." I sighed. My face was still red from embarrassment, and it was probably going to stay like that for some time. Riley sat down beside me and looked at me. She stayed quiet, and after some time, I tried breaking the silence.

"I can't believe her."

"Who?" Riley asked, sitting beside me.

"Maria. I know it was her."

"Maria? Seriously?" She said, slightly surprised. I gave her a nod and sighed.

"She was at my house yesterday with John." I paused again, and took another deep breath, trying to not get riled up from just thinking about it. "There's no other explanation as to how those pictures would have gotten out. And then I heard her talking with John over the phone when you dropped me off." I folded her arms over my breasts again. "Everyone saw me."

"Forget about it, Zoey. It'll die out in a week if no one fuels the fire." Riley told me in a somewhat comforting voice.

"And if the fire gets more fuel?" I asked, turning to look back at her, "You have no idea how many pictures my mom has taken of me. Different poses, artwork. Me half-naked when I was younger." There was nothing I could do to stop myself from tearing up and crying again.

"I don't think anyone would wanna see you naked when you were younger." She replied, "Look, we can figure a way to deal with this. We could try and delete whatever she has on her phone that's related to you?"

"How?" I tilted my head, "We can't just hack her phone and delete it. Besides, it's on the internet now. People probably have them saved."

Riley went quiet and looked at me. She scrunched her face up and frowned a bit. She must be trying to think of a solution, but I was at a point where I didn't care. Those pictures were already out there and there was nothing I could do.

"We can't delete those ones, but we could try and delete whatever she has before their set out into the world." She suggested.

"Again, how?"

"I uh... don't know?"

"Exactly," I said in a rather snappy tone. Rolling onto my side, I rested my head against the armrest of the couch and took in another calming breath. "I... I'm sorry." I apologized, glancing back at Riley. "I didn't mean..."

"It's okay." Riley said, frowning, "I know what your feeling, and it's fine."

"I'm sorry," I repeated. The two of us sat there for some time. Riley had made something for me to snack on and the two of us were sitting on the couch together as the TV played one of Riley's saved horror movies. "What do I do now?" I asked after the long silence.

"Well... spend the night here? You brought your art stuff over, so I assumed that you would be working on the painting."

I glanced over at it, and sighed, standing up, and walking over to the trunk. Resting on the top, was the painting I was doing for the contest. It was almost done, and I did figure that if I wasn't going to school, I could finish this up here.

"I guess I can."

"Did I damage it at all during the drive?" Riley asked, standing up to look at it besides me.

"No, it's fine," I said, my face still flushed with embarrassment. It felt like the feeling would never fade. I couldn't shake it off. After a moment, I lifted the painting up off the trunk and pulled out the folded up easel from inside. I set it up quickly and put the painted onto it, resting it at an angle against the wooden frame.

"Who's that?" Riley asked, looking closer at the painting

"You don't see it?" I turned to her and asked. I could have sworn I was making it more obvious.

"Not really?" She shrugged her shoulders.

"Look closer."

Riley nodded and leaned in. She looked even closer at my painting. The brush lines, the color's used. The hair color wasn't exactly purple, but more of a blue. It was the best I could do with the paint I had.

"Wait. Is that... me?" Riley leaned back, turning to face me.

"Y- Yes," I said a bit nervously. She finally saw it. For a long couple of week's, I had spent all this time carefully and slowly working on every detail of this painting. I tried so very hard to get every one of her facial features right, and I had gone through dozens upon dozens of sketched out rough drafts before settling on this.

"I inspire you?" Riley asked me, her face turning slightly red.

"Yeah. You're my best friend-" I was cut off by Riley. She had turned and wrapped both arms around me, hugging me tightly, and lifting me slightly off my feet. I was probably blushing too, but it felt impossible for my face to get even redder. Slowly, I wrapped my arms around her as well and embraced the hug she was giving me. I couldn't help but smile a bit.

"I'm such a bad inspiration," Riley said with a chuckle, putting me back onto my feet.

"Perhaps." I smiled a bit more, "But your the only person who has tried to be friends with me. I'm happy about that." I paused again, and opened my mouth to say something, but stopped myself. I thought about perhaps asking her out at that moment. It seemed like a good time to tell her how I actually felt, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was still too nervous to even ask. Riley stepped back away from me and nodded.

"Alright. I should probably tell mum about what happened, and that we will be here today. I'll be right back." She said rather quickly, walking off towards her room and shutting the door behind her. I chuckled a bit, and sighed, looking back down at myself. The moment had passed and the feeling of embarrassment and being ashamed overwhelmed me again. Trying to shake my mind off of what happened I sat back down on the couch and looked back to the TV. We were in the middle of watching another horror film, this one is about a killer who put his victims into dangerous traps. The paused image on the screen was of a rather large man, his body spasming as it was cut up all over in a maze of razor wires.

"Alright, ready to keep watching," Riley said, walking back over to me. Her face was noticeably less red than before.

"Y- Yeah, let's keep watching." I shook the embarrassing feeling and tried calming down again. She sat down beside me, and the two of us kept watching the film. By the end of it, I had calmed down enough to get my mind off the incident. Mainly because I was surprised by the film's twist ending. The killer revealing himself to have literally been in front of the two main character's this whole time. It was a good movie, I liked it. I still remember a few weeks ago, when if I were to see something like this, I would feel sick and throw up, but now, I don't. I had gotten over my fear of horror movies and found an interest in them. It was in this moment though, that I realized what it was about them that kept intriguing me. The violence. Watching people on screen, scream in pain as their bodies were cut, torn, and ripped apart. It was an oddly satisfying feeling watching people die in such creative ways. Jaws ripped open to the point where they break, a large machete implanting itself into someone's back, and then having the spine break as the body folds in half. I didn't feel sick watching them. No, I felt something different. It made me feel good.