We walk into the building together, Julie gripping my hand. By the time we’ve reached Logan’s apartment, I’m sweating and feel faint. I knock on the door. “Logan?”
He doesn’t answer. There’re some shuffling sounds.
“Logan,” I call. “Please open up.”
The door cracks open. Logan is on the other side. His face is pale. His gaze skims from me to Julie. “Didn’t realize I was hosting the afterparty.”
I push open the door further. The place is a mess. It’s like he just trashed it. Bottles everywhere. Drugs on the central table. Enough for him to overdose and kill himself. Julie makes a sound of disgust to my left.
“What the hell happened?” I ask him.
He rubs his face with stress. I can’t tell if he’s sober or high. “I beat the crap out of Briggs.”
Julie speaks. “You do realize that’s assault, right?”
Logan glares at her. “Why the hell are you here?”
“I’m here for Mattie. To make sure you’re not going to hurt him.”
Logan turns away and falls into the couch. “I would never hurt Matt, all right?”
I swallow. I want to believe him, but I don’t know what to think right now. I need to hear what’s happened. I need him to tell me the truth, and I don’t think he’ll do that with Julie here. I turn to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Thanks for helping me,” I say. “I’ll be okay.”
She frowns. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
She hesitates for one long moment. I think she’s considering telling me that she refuses to leave, but she finally nods. “All right. You have my number. I’m not far away. I’ll come back if you need me, okay?”
“Thanks.”
I walk her to the door, then shut it behind her. Silence echoes for a moment. I’m not breathing, and I don’t think Logan is, either. I walk and stop in the middle of the living room, looking around at the scene. Logan’s sitting, head back, staring up at the ceiling blankly.
“What happened?” I ask him.
He doesn’t answer.
I sit down on the couch, where we’ve spent so much time together. I’ve seen flashes of this Logan before. This version of Logan comes out when he doesn’t feel safe, when he needs to protect himself. But this Logan—it’s the same one that’ll harm anyone, including himself. I don’t know what to do, to get through to the real Logan beneath it all.
“I want to listen,” I tell him. “I want to hear what happened.” I pause. “I still care about you, no matter what. You know that, right?” But if he really attacked Briggs…I don’t know. There’d have to be consequences for that, too.
He clenches his jaw and swallows, so I know he’s listening.
I wait. I’ve always been patient, waiting.
Finally, he speaks. His voice is so hoarse it cracks, and I can’t understand what he said.
“What’d you say?” I ask, voice quiet.
“He tried to rape me.”
A sharp breath. “What?”
Logan sits up. He still doesn’t look at me as he talks. “He texted me. He wanted to meet up. I left the party. Met him here. We usually fuck whenever he’s in town, but—I don’t know, I changed my mind. That pissed him off.”
The way he says it—it’s like he’s suggesting he thinks it’s his fault. “Jesus, Logan.”
“He tried to rape me. I beat the shit out of him. He left.”
I don’t know what to do or say. My voice sounds hollow when I finally grasp at words. “You were allowed to change your mind.”
His gaze meets mine. “You’re not angry I almost had sex with him?”
“No. No, that was—” I do feel a tug in my gut, a pinch of hurt and disappointment, but that’s nothing now, nothing in comparison to what’s happened to Logan. “It was your choice, if you wanted to or not. Jesus, Logan,” I say again. “He assaulted you.”
“His dick never actually went in.”
“That’s still assault.” I’m about to start crying, but he shouldn’t have to deal with my emotions right now on top of everything else. “I—I think you should go to the hospital. Press charges.”
He snorts. “If everyone tried to press charges for every rape and attempted rape in this industry, there wouldn’t be any more movies.”
I don’t understand how he can be so dismissive of this. Is it because of his past? Does he think this is normal, somehow? Expected? “You don’t deserve to be treated like this, Logan. You deserve to be safe. To feel safe. To not be attacked—”
“Done with your sermon?”
I close my mouth. I know it’s only because he’s hurting. He shouldn’t want to hurt me in response, but I want to have patience for him—compassion, especially now. “It’s your choice,” I say softly. “You don’t have to go to the hospital or file a report or anything.”
“Yeah. Thanks. I know that.”
“But I want to be here for you. So,” I say, slowly, “please don’t push me away. I don’t want to leave you alone like this.”
He doesn’t speak. His eyes look like they’re about to well up.
“I’m here, Logan. Okay? For as long as you want me here—for as long as you want me to stay. I promise I’m not going anywhere.”
He looks at me for long enough that I think he’s going to tell me to get out, until he closes his eyes and leans back against the couch. I understand his silent message. He’s done speaking, but he doesn’t want me to leave.
Twitter.com
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#CancelLoganGray #LoganGrayIsOverParty #FuckGray #BoycottWriteAnything
@facinwashere
This is FUCKING CRAZY Y’ALL. We BEEN trying to warn you about how dangerous Logan Gray is for YEARS and now he actually out here beating people up?? He needs to be ARRESTED. #CancelLoganGray
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@everydayhustlin
god this dude is sick in the head, fr fr.
#FuckGray
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@angelsky4033
We need to #BoycottWriteAnything so that these asshole celebrities can’t continue to think they can get away with everything. The world has real life consequences.
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@robertklingon
Lol I could find logan’s address and send someone to take him out so we don’t have to deal with him anymore
103 903 2K
Logan
The text messages don’t stop rolling in.
Dave’s flipping out. What the fuck is going on Gray?? Answer me
Audrey’s threatening to quit. How can I do my job and assist you in this matter if you won’t return my phone calls?
Reynolds wants to fire me. This is unacceptable. You have destroyed the film.
Mattie slept over. He’s cleaning up the apartment now, walking around with a garbage bag. I lie on the couch, scrolling through the messages, music streaming from my phone and to the TV, like usual.
“You’re not looking at social media right now, are you?” Matt asks me as he passes by.
“Nope.”
A new text from Willow. What happened? This is pretty shitty, even for you.
My phone starts to ring. It’s my dad. I freeze. I don’t want to answer it, but if I end the call, he’ll know I’m ignoring him, which will only make him more pissed off. It’s only as the voicemail starts that it hits me. Mattie will be able to hear this, too.
“Logan,” my dad begins, his voice booming over the speakers, “you fucking disgusting piece of shit—”