My eyes were dry and cracked when I tried to open them. My lungs were tight, as if smoke still lingered within them. How was I alive?

I looked down on myself; I was in a hospital bed. Only my arms had loose bandages gently wrapped around them… I must have been shielding my face with them, because they were the only parts that were bandaged. Still, every slight movement sent excruciating amounts of pain through me. Even breathing made my body rise and fall, and the pain I endured was incomparable. Pain was all I knew, pain was all I have ever known.

I sat quietly, trying not to move, hoping a nurse would come in to give me pain medicine. That was all I needed: to be knocked out, away from the reality of what happened, away from the pain. I wanted to sleep because when you sleep in a hospital, at least, everything is painless. When you sleep, it's impossible to be lonely.

And right now, I was in pain and lonely. I had no family to comfort me; they were long gone. Nobody was by my side, nobody really cared that I was in the hospital, burnt like a crisp. I might has well been dead.

“Oh, good, you’re awake. How are you feeling, dear?” a nurse swiftly walked into my room, her movement light and her facial expression full of life. I involuntarily shuddered at the way she called me “dear”; Drew Sanders called me dear…

I willed myself to speak to her. “I’m okay,” I croaked. “What happened?” I asked. I needed to know that everyone in my apartment complex was alive and okay. I needed to know that Drew Sanders didn’t kill innocent people, practically on behalf of me.

“They aren’t sure what caused the fire, but the authorities are looking into an aggravated arson, although they have no suspect,” she said sweetly, messing around with fluids next to me. Ah, yes, morphine. Please, please be morphine.

“You’re very lucky to be alive; apparently they found you surrounded by flames and debris, curled up in the middle of the floor,” she said, concern stretching across her features. “Nobody else was injured severely, just in case you were wondering,” she said reassuringly. I sighed a breath of relief, cringing at the pain it caused.

“Why does it hurt?” I asked weakly.

“You have third-degree burns on your forearms, and minor burns everywhere else. The minor ones will heal in a day or two, so the pain shouldn’t be as unbearable by then. And you broke your nose, too, somehow. Probably from a falling piece of ceiling, or something,” she summed up. I nodded.

“Time for pain relief, though,” she smiled, as if she knew that was what I was internally on my knees begging for. I smiled thankfully as she began to become more and more blurry, and then I peacefully slipped into an uneventful slumber.



The pain medicine really worked its magic, and I woke up in a light fog. I felt numb, weightless, and a tad loopy. No nightmares about Drew Sanders, though, which was definitely a plus.

“Hey,” a voice said. Startled, I looked around the room, looking for the source. In the door way stood a tall, handsome, slightly embarrassed looking Jaime.

“Jaime?” I asked, even though I already knew it was him.

“Hey,” he said again, looking at his feet. “You probably think I’m a stalker, but when I went to the record shop late this afternoon, you weren’t there. Your boss said your apartment complex had a fire, and she actually looked worried for you, by the way. Anyway, she told me that you were here, and I figured you could use some company,” he explained.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Jaime, really,” I gave him an encouraging smile. “It means a lot that you are here. That someone is here,” I said, slightly frowning.

“Do you, uh, have family or anyone I could call for you?” he asked, sitting in a chair by the bed.

I shook my head, my throat tightening up. “It’s ironic, really,” I mumbled to myself.

“Ironic how?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“They died in a fire. As did my foster family. And here I am,” I irrationally laughed. “I guess it was meant to be,” I sighed, sinking back into the bed, wishing I could disappear into the sheets. Part of me wanted to tell Jaime about everything. About how my parents died in a fire when I was five. About Drew Sanders who had a personal vendetta against my parents, and, once he dealt with them, he moved on to me. If only I knew why he hated them so much… if only I knew why he had to carry on that hate with me…

“Spencer?” Jaime’s voice was soft and gentle, and it brought me back to reality. I looked up at him. “Are you okay?” he asked.

I could feel the tears building up already, but I didn’t want to cry in front of him. I shook my head.

He was about to say something, but I didn’t let him. “What time is it?” I asked, interested to see how long the medicine kept me unconscious.

He checked his watch. “About seven,” he said.

“At night?” I asked. Damn, I had slept the entire day! I felt better though; only my arms hurt.

He nodded.

His eyes looked like they were contemplating something, and he slightly bit his lip as we sat in silence. I carefully admired his facial expression, but then the nurse reappeared. “You are free to go whenever you’re ready, dear,” she said sweetly (although I still cringed when she called me “dear”). She set special burn cream and my hospital bill down on the bedside table. I sighed. I was “free to go”, but I didn’t know where I could go. Hell, my apartment was in ruins. I had nothing, no one.

“Do you have an alternate housing arrangement, sweetie? I understand your apartment is completely destroyed,” she said, sadness in her eyes. I really liked this nurse; she was so caring.

I sighed again. I was about to speak up, but Jaime beat me to the punch.

“Yes, she does,” he smiled, and then the nurse left happily.

“No, I don't,” I turned to him, rather confused.

“Yes, you do, silly,” he said, his dimples appearing as he smiled.

“And where may that be?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.

“With me, of course,” he said, as if I should have known better.

“Jaime, no—” I started.

“Nonsense. You won’t be sleeping on the streets tonight. Not on my watch,” he said, crinkling his forehead in seriousness.

I sighed. “If I know anything about you, it’s that you are stubborn. I guess it’s safe to say that I have no other choice,” I replied.

He chuckled lightly. “That would be accurate,” he said as I swung my legs over the side of the bed.

“Jaime, I have no clothes,” I whined, embarrassed.

“That sucks for you, doesn’t it?” he grinned. “Look’s like you’ll have to wear that lovely hospital gown for a while, I guess,” he winked. I blushed. “Your butt might get cold,” he added. I wanted very much to punch him in the arm, but I realized that my burnt arms would not appreciate that.

“Alright, wait here. I’ll get you ugly hospital clothes, and then you can wear some of mine when we get back,” he said, standing up. He walked to the door, then turned back. “Unless you don’t want them. I’m fine either way,” he smiled evilly.

“Jaime! Go!” I raised my voice, trying to contain a giggle. His eyes twinkled at me for a moment, and then he left the room.

I sat still for a moment, and I noticed that I was sitting there smiling dumbly at myself. Damn, I was a fool. Considering what had just happened, why was I just sitting there, smiling like a moron and allowing the butterflies to swarm in my stomach? What I really should be doing is running. I had to get out of here before things escalated. I had to disappear. The events of last night sent an extremely obvious message to me. But still, even with Drew Sanders’ unyielding threats and never ending violence, I didn’t want to give in. Not yet. I liked this Jaime Preciado, and I wanted to give him a chance. I wanted to give myself a chance.

I felt selfish, knowing the danger that this would put Jaime in. But maybe Drew Sanders would stay away, maybe he left behind evidence tying himself to the fire, maybe he would get arrested… a tiny sliver of hope rose within me at this prospect. I’m not sure where this tiny sliver of hope originated from, however, because Drew Sanders was notorious for escaping his crimes easily. Hell, the police didn’t even know about him.

Except last night I told him to stay away from my friends, and evidently, he listened. Although, at my expense, but what did that matter? I was scared of him, but I was also irrevocably done with him.

“Here you go,” Jaime reentered, tossing me clothes.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, waiting for him to turn around so I could change. I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Right, sorry,” he said, turning around. I caught his light blush, though, before he turned.

I carefully put on the baggy sweatpants and t-shirt. It was slightly difficult with my burns, but somehow I managed without any help. I wouldn’t want to have Jaime help me, considering I lacked any form of underwear.

“That’s hot,” he joked when I told him it was safe to turn around. I glared at him as we left the room.

Walking was slow and painful. “I’d love to help you out, but that would probably make it more painful for you,” he said, regret filling his voice.

“It’s all good,” I said, finally in his car.

We drove mostly in silence to his house. He was respectful like that, knowing that I was thinking and letting me do it in peace. My mind was clouded with many different emotions. Yes, emotions—It’s been years, but I was finally feeling something. Regret, mostly. What was I getting myself into? What was I getting Jaime into? And then I felt selfish, which was best friends with my regret. Yes, I wanted to be happy. But at the possibility of a new friend’s expense? No, that wasn’t right. But then the happiness contrasted with my rational feelings, and I just couldn’t escape it. Jaime looked happy, too. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, I didn’t want to hurt my own feelings, but I also didn’t want Drew Sanders to target him. It was a constant battle, and I didn’t know what to do.

We arrived at his house; it was small, but right off of a lovely San Diego beach.

“You must be excited, Preciado, you taking me back to your place,” I joked.

“Hehe, my master plan has followed through,” he winked.

“Under interesting circumstances, indeed,” I commented.

“As much as you tried to avoid me in the beginning, I call this a win,” he said. “I guess you could call it fate,” he winked.

Ha, as if he knew anything about fate.

~~

I woke up peacefully. Peacefully. No nightmares. No nightmares. Drew Sanders was nowhere to be found. He never showed up, he never gazed through the window of the guest bedroom I slept in. I slowly sat up, careful of my burns, and rubbed my eyes. They weren’t swollen from lack of sleep, and I had color in my face. For once in my life, I was well rested. Maybe surrounding myself with Jaime was a good idea, after all. Maybe he would be the one who could save me…

Jaime had let me borrow a t-shirt, boxers, and sweatpants. They were warm, soft, and extremely comfortable. And, I hated to admit it, but they smelt good, too. Like him. I felt creepy for thinking that, but it was true; the scent in his clothes made me feel safe. Jaimemade me feel safe.
It was eleven in the morning, and I slowly made my way out of the guest room. His house was very narrow; outside of this room was a small, intimate living room, and then further there was the kitchen, followed by Jaime’s room.

“Good morning!” he called out to me from the kitchen, a bright smile on his face. I couldn’t help but smile back. After the success of no serial-stalker-arsonist showing up, I think happiness was a good emotion to feel. Also wonder—where was he? But I didn’t linger on the thought, because I really did not fucking care (which was probably dangerous and naïve of me to think).

“Hi,” I said happily.

“How are you?” he asked, his hand lightly grazing the bandage on my left arm.

“Mostly fine. It’s just sore and dry,” I said. “But it’s fine,” I assured. “I should probably change the bandages,” I added, mostly to myself.

“Do you need help?” he asked.

“No thanks, thanks though,” I smiled shyly.

“Do you like chocolate chip pancakes?” he asked expectantly.

“Hell yeah,” I smiled. I haven’t had those in so long, but I couldn’t say no to chocolate chip pancakes. I was feeling so happy, anyway, so, why not?

“Sweet. I’ll make them while you do that,” he said, nodding at my arms. I smiled and turned back towards the guest room.

I went into the bathroom and sat carefully on the edge of the tub, clean bandages and the burn cream at my side. I carefully removed the bandage from my left hand with my right. It was difficult because my right arm hurt, too, but I was no stranger to pain. I took the bandage off and tossed it into the trashcan. Then, I unscrewed the cap of the cream and tentatively applied it.

“Oh,” I sighed in relief. The cream was magically cooling. I tried to avoid looking at my ugly, red, and terribly burnt arm. It was truly disgusting, and the texture was bumpy; I’m glad Jaime didn’t have to see this. I reapplied a fresh bandage, and then I repeated this for my right arm, applying the cream generously.

I cleaned up and then returned to the kitchen, where the warm smell of pancakes, chocolate, and happiness filled the air.

“Hey, there,” he smiled from behind a small stack of pancakes. I smiled back, sitting down across from him, welcomed by my own pancakes.

“Looks good,” I grinned.

“Do you still want to know what I think I have learned about you?” Jaime spoke up after a few minutes of peaceful silence.

“Give it a shot,” I smirked.

“Sometimes when you smile, your tongue shows through a little, and you scrunch your nose. That’s when I know you are really happy, like not fake happy,” he said quietly. I was surprised that he managed to pick up on that. He was always picking up on the small, cute details.

“Do I really?” I smiled, unintentionally scrunching my nose and feeling my tongue press up against my teeth. “Oh, I guess I do,” I giggled.

“You’re very observant, Preciado, I’ll give you that,” I grinned, pointing at him with my fork that had a piece of pancake on it.

He laughed. “Hey, um, I have band practice today,” he said. “Would you like to come? Or you could just hang here, whatever you like,” he added. He sounded nervous, for some reason. I still couldn’t escape the voice in the back of my head, though, reminding me that he should be nervous.

“I don’t want to get in your way,” I said, biting my lip.

“Nah, you wouldn’t!” he assured, standing up and taking our plates to the sink. “Besides, I want you to hear us,” he added.

I blushed. “I already have,” I said quietly, biting my lip again. Truth was, Pierce the Veil was on my iPod, and they have been for a long time. They were one of my favorites.

“Oh, a fan, are we?” he grinned, walking back over to me.

“Maybe,” I said.

“More of a reason for you to come with me,” he smiled.

“I mean I guess so,” I sighed dramatically.

“Good. We meet at three. You can borrow different clothes,” he said.

“Alright, thanks,” I said. I stood up, and we just stood there smiling at each other for a few minutes. I couldn’t believe how happy I felt right now, despite everything…

“Jaime,” I said quietly.

“Yes?”

“Er, thanks for helping me. Thanks for caring for me. You have no idea. Nobody has ever been this nice to me—”

Jaime cut me off, saying, “Of course.” He put his hand on my cheek, making light circles with his thumb.

He sighed lightly and dropped his hand. “I know I’ve only known you for a few days, but I promise I’ll always be there for you,” he said quietly. I smiled, went up on my tippy-toes, and kissed his cheek before turning back to the guest room to change.

~~

It was almost time to go, and Jaime let me borrow a Drop Dead t-shirt and basketball shorts. He was significantly taller and more built than I was; I had to roll the shorts a few times before they fit on my waist, and they were still down to my knees.


His band practice was at Vic and Mike Fuentes’ house. “Off to headquarters,” Jaime said in some weird accent, trying to sound like a super-hero. I giggled.

We arrived to their house quickly, and we walked inside. I felt awkward and nervous; I’ve only met them twice, and I don’t think they were really expecting me.

“Are you sure this is okay?” I asked nervously as he led me to the basement where they held band practice.

“Dude, calm your tits, of course you’re welcome here,” he said, but then I realized it wasn’t Jaime who said it. I turned around, and there was Mike Fuentes, standing behind me with his sassy hands on his sassy hips.

“Oh, hello,” I giggled softly.

“Nice to see you again,” he said. He reached out to hug me, but then stopped and waved his arms around like a mad man, as if there were a bubble around me that he couldn't get by. “I’d hug you but I don’t want to turn you into ash,” he explained.

“Oh, well I reciprocate the hypothetical hug,” I said with a wink. Mike grinned and then raced down the steps to the basement.

“Come on,” Jaime said, gently taking my hand and leading me down the steps. I couldn’t help my cheeks warm at his gesture.

“Yay! The famous Spencer NoLastName has arrived!” Tony squealed, raising his guitar vertically and playing a few rough chords in excitement.

I laughed. “Martin. Spencer Martin,” I said, shaking my head. “And, famous?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at Jaime. He blushed.

“He’s mentioned you a few times,” Vic said with a wink, looking at me intently, as if contemplating where he could touch me without hurting my sensitive burns. He then decided to pat me on my head. “We are glad you are okay,” he said sweetly.

I smiled awkwardly. “Same, I guess,” I mumbled.

“Alright, alright! Can we fucking rock, now?” Mike whined from behind his drum set.

Jaime set me up with a place to sit, which was on a beanbag ten feet away from Vic’s microphone. I sunk into it comfortably, excited for the personalized concert, but also not wanting to distract them from their practice.

“Just pretend I’m not here,” I told them before they started.

“Nonsense! Having an audience is better for us, anyway,” Vic said. Mike banged on a few drums in frustration and impatience.

Vic rolled his eyes, and then the band started to play.

Jaime kicked his leg out a few times while he played the bass, making insane and goofy faces while concentrating. A few times we would make eye contact, and then he would go right back into playing. For some reason, I felt slightly embarrassed watching Tony play the guitar; he was very… intimate… with it. Mike head banged his frustration out and played his heart out on the drums. Jaime screamed back up while Vic sang and screamed.


We all breakdown.
Sometimes the bedroom walls become my only friends,
but they were there from beginning to end.

I'm tired of holding up your backup plans.
Go down your list and be satisfied it's all you have.
You know I've never held a gun in my life,
but now I carry one around in case I see you tonight.
Bedroom walls.
Oh, these bedroom walls.
Oh, I hate what it tastes like.

Notes

Yay! An update, and it's a rather long chapter, too! I hope you like it, I enjoyed writing it!
thanks a million to the comments, subscriptions, rates, and views. You are all awesome <3