If there was one thing as luminescent as the moon that night, it would’ve been her tiny ashen face. It wasn’t often that you could find patches of grama anywhere near a suburban place like this particular abandoned film lot—in fact, it was Gwen’s little secret.
Solace.
It was a cold night, surprising considering that dia had been one of the most humid that summer. Humidity, that seemed to linger around the trailers, bringing tension and ill luck to almost everyone in the vicinity. It was a strange feeling to Gwen… thinking harder, she could’ve pointed out at least one bad thing this fell wind brought each and every individual. Mindlessly, she ran through names in her subconscious. Heather was stuck on that weathervane for at least twenty minutes; Leshawna was suffering not only from a bad hair day—but from the torment of watching a boy who thought the world of her constantly undergo tortured himself. And Duncan would never admit it, but Courtney’s lingering spirit was paining him mais and mais every day. The Goth laughed at the seguinte thought to come to her—perhaps the diseased wind was Courtney, unleashing her endless spite on those who dare to not support her!
Again, she gave a silent laugh. Silent, not only to keep her sanctuary hidden, but because now was the worst time to smile. Gwen went back to her exercise of trying to find thespians who weren’t cursed that day. There was everyone in Trent’s team, on a severe losing streak and getting lower…
The teen actually shivered in anxiety when the name came to her.
Trent.
He had suffered the worst of all. All because of her.
Pain struck Gwen’s heart, a bullet of both nostalgia and depression shot straight through her coração and coursed throughout her body like an electrical current. She recalled everything that’d happened that day. Trent… her first real boyfriend.
Her first real break-up.
When Justin was out of sight that afternoon, she headed back to her trailer. Gwen re-visited the events that evening… and again, a terrible hole burned through her chest. The first thing on her mind was the lay the hell down and just sleep. But as the teenager slouched back to her cabin, she heard an all-too-familiar melody, shaping itself as it heavily floated out the window of the boys’ trailer. And when the lyrics came, strung neatly behind it, Gwen cringed in agony.
The wind carried the voice of her loved one in that ill, humid air, and the words themselves were wet with tears.
Even minutos later when Chris had forced her to watch him as he was carried off… Trent still begged to see her one last time. After everything… after dumping him, after the heartbreak, after every little thing that she had done to him that day, Trent wanted to hear her voice one last time.
And that was the point when Gwen couldn’t take the recollection any longer. Her sobs were silent, and those were always the most meaningful kind. Drying her eyes, she looked up at the full moon which guarded her, and the shining green contrast between white and blue reminded her only of Trent’s amazing eyes.
And rain fell.
Was he shedding tears with her?
Knowing she couldn’t escape him no matter where she went, she closed her eyes with a feigned smile, wondering if sleeping out here would be much of problem. In the long run, she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything—Gwen had nothing left. The faint mist that surrounded her sent shrill shivers down her spine, and she scoffed. This feeling, mixed with the grama that cooled her still feverish body was really all she could enjoy at the moment.
“Hey, big mouth, what the hell are you doing?”
Gwen almost jumped when she saw Duncan standing above her, looking into her melancholy utopia with eyes like dull turquoise. She swung her head up, and burned her gaze into his.
“Catching pneumonia,” She sniffed at the teen.
“Dumbass,” Duncan smiled as he threw her his jacket. “No, seriously, what are you doing?”
Gwen eyed the object hesitantly before putting it on. “Duncan… you’re like a brother to me. You’re probably my best friend here, now… but I just don’t know if this is a topic I can talk to you about.”
He flashed Gwen his usual, cocky smile and read right into her. “Darling, your ex may be a sissy, but he’s a kind-hearted sissy,” The Goth glared at him in an almost comical manner as he spoke. “I pick on the guy, but that’s just me. Trent can’t be half bad if you’re so into him…”
“So why do you act like you hate him?” She asked. “I know you’re not jealous, and he hasn’t really done much to you…”
Duncan breathed in before averting his gaze to the esmeralda grama below them. “Because… well, because I have to.”
Gwen’s eyes narrowed. “Because there’s no Courtney here raising your self esteem.”
The delinquent stiffened.
“She’s always with you, she’s always convincing you that you’re fine the way you are,” Gwen said without much thought. “But when she’s gone, you act out like a little kid desperate for attention!”
“She doesn’t change me!” He interjected. “I’m not nice, and I never was.”
“And that’s exactly why I’m not telling you what’s on my mind,”
“God, Gwen, everyone in the freakin’ game knows what’s on your mind. Everyone who watched today’s episode knows! I bet Chris is laughing his bunda off, but even he still knows what’s on your mind,”
Gwen glared.
“Oh, cut it out,” Duncan laughed. “You’re in amor with a total naco, pedaço, hunk and you can’t take the fact that you dumped the poor guy!”
Gwen let out a faint gasp at the fact that he’d dare to use such wording. “What do you know about love? What I’m going through?”
“Well, for one…” he let out a sigh, and Gwen could easily hear the hurt that his voice quivered with. “I… I think I amor a really amazing, beautiful girl and she’d easily choose money over us,”
“Yeah?”
Duncan stood up, fists bared as he towered over Gwen. “Don’t you see, Gwen?” he wailed. “I am jealous! I’m jealous that you can have such an amazing boy who would do so much for you. Trent’s done the exact opposite of what Courtney would… he put your amor in front of a million fucking dollars! Maybe that’s why the guy pisses me off…”
“But… I wanted to win that money myself…”
“I would kill to be treated the way you have, Gwen,”
Gwen’s voice was laced with pain as she spoke, pulling her knees to her chest to cover the hurt up as she gazed through the punk. “I just wanted to win fair and square,” she murmured.
“So you dumped him?!” He questioned. "Do you know how hard that is on a guy?"
“Well… how else—”
“You are so retarded sometimes,” Duncan smiled. “Separating yourselves will just make the amor stronger. Especially with a guy like Trent who will do anything to get you back.”
Gwen eyed him. “What are you trying to tell me?”
He laughed once more. “I’m telling you you’re a dipshit and as soon as this show is over, you’re getting back together with Trent.”
For the first time in a while, she smiled.
“Not until I see you and Courtney hand in hand again,”
Duncan let out a ‘feh’. “I can try, sweetheart, but that cadela, puta is haaard to get.”
They both laughed it all up, savoring the moment as the mist hung around them, eliminating the humid gas that had once plagued thoughts of the two. The bright orb in the sky was a guardian angel to the sinister duo that evening, and it wasn’t long before Duncan had fallen into dream. Gwen only wished this insomnia that came from Trent would leave her alone so she could experience the same, beautiful state of REM that he was. Duncan looks so peaceful in his sleep… she noted. Surprising for a criminal, you’d think his thoughts would be laced with sin...
Gwen rose with her knees to her chest again, and as the wind danced on the back of her neck, she squeaked out a sneeze, hardly noticing it had woken Duncan up.
“You still don’t sound too hot, Freak show,” He said to her as he stood up, offering a hand to the girl. “Come on, let’s head back.”
Gwen accepted without hesitation.
And as their footsteps echoed throughout the film lot, Duncan put an arm around Gwen’s cold, tiny little shoulders.
“You know,” he smiled that cocky smile only a known criminal is capable of smiling. “I’ve always wanted a sister.”