Vicious Circles

Chapter 4

I flipped my new phone around in between my right and left hand. I’d spent ten minutes going through all the numbers Mason had programmed in ahead of time. I could literally call every emergency service in the Los Angeles area, along with Mason and one of his band mates. Still, I had no clue why he would provide some random homeless girl, me, with a telephone.

“Let me see that,” my usual shelter neighbor said forcefully.

“It has important numbers inside,” I said, clutching it to my chest.

“He wants to keep track of you, I bet. Is he nice looking?”

The woman was annoying as shit but I couldn’t blame her. There was little excitement in our environment and her thrill for the day was my new found friendship with, in her words, a movie star. Mason was not a movie star to me. He was frustrating and arrogant but, after our lunch, I had seen a bit of him that was genuine.

My cot neighbor continued to eye my new phone and I began to get nervous. If I fell asleep and the crazy bitch stole my phone I would have to hunt her down.

“Where are you going?” she asked as I began to throw my things back into my backpack.

I ignored her question, checked out of the shelter and headed toward the bright lights of West Hollywood. I’d stay up all night if I had to. The feelings I was having were new to me. That little obnoxious electronic was my connection to someone.

My eyes burned from exhaustion but I kept walking until I was standing in front of the tiny art gallery with the bleeding girl in the front window. The parking meter served as a brace for my back when I sat down, facing the glass. I studied the odd angles of the painting. She could have easily been any woman I’ve known in my life, bleeding, which translated to losing one’s self in my opinion.

It was then I did something that changed the entire course of my life. Everyone has those huge moments and this one was mine. I searched my backpack for the phone and pulled it out without hesitation. I speed dialed the number for Mason and waited.

Voicemail.

“Hi, Mason…It’s Fallyn. Um, I don’t know why I called you because I don’t normally feel that calling a strange guy is a good idea but here I am, rambling on your voicemail. The thing is, I was thinking. I’m sitting on the sidewalk thinking and I realized that I’m practically alone, but I had this phone that you gave me. No one has ever given me a phone.”

I flipped the phone closed after that, feeling like the biggest ass in the world. Rambling into a voicemail for Mason Jennings was a low point for me. How could I have been so damn desperate for attention and not known it. My brain told me daily that bringing in new people would just make shit complicated but my brain was wrong. I wanted someone to care and at that point I didn’t care if it was genuine or not. I craved acceptance.

The phone rang in my hand, startling me. Mason. I didn’t answer it and he didn’t leave a message. The pattern continued about three more times. I shoved the device back into my bag and rested my forehead against the tops of my knees for what felt like forever. I was so tired but there would be no rest as a familiar voice sounded behind me.

“My sister paints; this one reminds me of something she would do.”

Slowly, I looked up toward the voice. He’d found me. He stopped whatever he was doing and came looking for me. Me. His eyes glistened with concern and I took him in as if he were my saving grace. Maybe he was. His strong hand was resting on my left shoulder, squeezing gently. When I felt a trail of warm tears along my cheeks I realized why.

“I didn’t mean to bother you, I’m sorry.”

Mason shrunk to my level. “You didn’t bother me at all. I’m glad you called.”

He didn’t ask any more questions. Instead his ass met the sidewalk right alongside mine.

“She’s so lost,” I said gesturing toward the painting.

“I agree but if you look hard enough, you’ll see the small bit of yellow poking through the gray in the top right corner.” Mason had an amazing grasp of the painting; it warmed my cold heart.

I wiped the embarrassing tears from my face. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”

“I think,” he sighed, “that once she sees that there is always another way, she’ll be fine.”

It was no surprise that we hadn’t actually been discussing the painting at all. At least, I was referring to myself. Looking back over all the moments I’d been in Mason’s presence I saw what was actually happening. He probably felt guilty over being the wedge that drove Jill and I apart, even though he shouldn’t. Him being there actually made me think about things and reconsider the direction I was going in.

“I was at a shelter earlier…I mean, that’s where I’ve been staying at night but I was so afraid someone would steal my phone that I left.” I watched his face for disgust or anything.

“I would feel better if you stayed at my place tonight.” He didn’t dare look at me.

I couldn’t, I just really couldn’t. “Mason, I appreciate the offer…but it just seems weird.”

He stood, grabbed my bag and started to back away from me. “I’m done taking no for an answer, Fallyn. Let’s go.” His eyes were fierce with determination and my mind was made up at first notice.

“Fine, I’ll go. Where are you parked?”

Mason grinned at me and led me to his car, parked a block up at a meter he hadn’t bothered to put money in. We traveled in silence to his home, which was actually an apartment. He explained that he shared it with two other guys, his band members. Luckily, everyone was gone when we arrived.

It was a typical bachelor pad; beer bottles and empty bowls with silverware sitting along the bar that connected the kitchen to the living room.

“I have beer,” Mason announced, pulling two from the fridge before I could respond.

“Thanks.” I took a bottle, downing half right away.

“The bathroom’s at the end of the hall, you can get a shower or change…” He trailed off.

At no point in the past two years did I ever think I’d be standing in Mason Jennings’ apartment, looking like a freaking idiot. Yet, there I was. I’d nearly drained the beer he’d given me and was ready for number two. He noticed and grabbed another one, taking the empty from me and setting it on the cluttered bar.

“I’m gonna take a shower, if that’s okay.”

He smiled softly at me. “That’s fine. I’ll be here.”

I maneuvered down the narrow hall, locking the bathroom door behind me. I stripped my worn clothes, leaving them on the floor in a sad pile. I would give anything not to have to put them back on.

The shower was satisfying and I stayed in longer than I should have. The hot water ran along my naked self, leaving bright pink trails in its wake. I wanted to be touched, loved…all of the above. I’d turned everything off for so long I wasn’t sure I knew how to care anymore. Had I truly been happy before I lost my place?

No.

Bits and pieces of my true self were leaking out and I couldn’t stop them. I was crying out for help, for someone to pay attention. Maybe, Mason was that person. The bitchy words, the defensive posture I carried myself in was all to cover up the truth. Having such a revelation in such a strange place threw me off. I cut the water and wrapped a towel around my wet body. I dug through my bag for anything decent to wear. When I found my favorite t-shirt I stopped looking.

“Mason?” I called into the darkness as I emerged from the bathroom.

“I’m here,” he answered from a room to my right.

The door was cracked and a small yellow sliver of light was gracing the beige carpet in the hall. I moved forward, formulating a plan with each step.

“Hey,” I said softly, leaning against the door frame in just the t-shirt.

Mason’s eyes studied me from his spot on the bed and I could see I hadn’t shocked him at all. “You can come in.”

I felt empty. I needed someone. I needed to feel connected to someone and he was right there. If he cared, he would understand. If he wanted to help me, things would go the way I’d planned.

I frowned at him, finding myself studying the green of his eyes while I moved closer. “I need this, OK?”

His fingertips grasped the bare flesh of my thighs and pulled me down to my knees. I was eye level with him, breathing heavily. I spread my knees apart and fell forward, pressing my lips against his. He returned the kiss full force and, for the first time in so long, I felt the same desperation contained in my heart, emanating from him.

I grabbed my shirt and lifted it up over my wet hair, leaving my body on display for him to accept or not. Mason’s eyes went immediately to the scars across my left side. He raised a hand to run his finger across the largest but changed his mind.

“What happened to you?” He asked. When I didn’t answer his lips met the soft skin of my collarbone. “What happened to you Fallyn?”

I ran both hands through his hair. “I’m broken, Mason. Nothing I do fixes it.”

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his hands running circles around both breasts. “I can’t fix you, if that’s what you want.”

There was sorrow in his beautiful eyes and I knew he was broken too. Someone or something had broken him just like me. Maybe we were damaged on different levels but damaged nonetheless. I felt like I was looking at his true self, his hands trembling as he ran them over my exposed stomach. The calluses from playing his guitar caught against my smooth skin and it wasn’t pleasant but it wasn’t horrible. I could feel it and it was real. What it was would remain to be seen.

“You can’t fix me, no one can.”

I pressed him backward with my right hand, until he was flat against the bed. I unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it away from his body. His white shirt he wore underneath went next. I admired his pale skin. He was thin and nothing like the typical Hollywood types I’d seen Jill f*cking. The thought of her made me want to sleep with him even more. She wasn’t special, clearly.

When I started to unbutton his pants, his hands circled my wrists, stopping me.

“What? What’s wrong?” I blurted out, frustrated.

“This is wrong, I can’t do this.” He looked tortured as he grabbed my shirt and pulled it back over my head. “I didn’t bring you here to have sex with you.”

I remained on the bed, on my knees. Tears had sprung up instantly with the rejection.

“Fallyn, I can’t take advantage of you. There are so many a*sholes who probably have and I just won’t add myself to that list.”

The rage built from the pit of my stomach up. I jumped from the bed and stormed off to the bathroom to put my everyday clothes back on. “I see, Mason. You can stick your dick in Jill no problem but you can’t give me a second look!”

“That was a mistake,” he yelled. “I admit that…”

“Whatever, I’m out of here.” Bag in hand, I jogged through the apartment and slammed the door behind me. I should have known better.

Trying to seduce Mason was high on my list of stupid things I’d done. I don’t know what came over me or why I thought he’d want someone like me. The tears wouldn’t stop and I began to run, trying to get as far away as possible.

My phone sounded off and I ignored it, knowing it would only be one person. When the ringing persisted I stopped and threw my bag down, ripping the thing out and flipping it open violently.

“What?! Can’t you just let this go?”

“Fallyn, please. It isn’t what you think, OK. Just come back.” The pleading tone in his voice was killer.

“This is pointless, you know. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. I can’t come back.”

“Listen,” his voice was almost a whisper and I wondered if one of his roommates had returned, “I think we can help each other. It sounds f*cking corny but it’s the truth.”

“Can’t you see how messed up I am?” I yelled through my tears. “I’m jaded and find it hard to love myself. How am I supposed to help you?”

“You’re the most honest person I’ve come into contact with, that’s how.”

I considered his admission for a moment. He found it hard to put himself out there, that much I could tell. I, on the other hand just threw it all down to be stared at without letting anyone know the real me. I found the idea of letting Mason in painful to the point that I wanted to scream. It was because he was right.