Be My Bad Boy

I punched the dashboard of the cab and screamed. The cab driver stole glances at me, thinking he had a crazy girl in his cab. Andy bloody infuriating Biersack. I could kill him.
I'd given the cab driver my address but, when I got over my punching fit, I changed my mind. I'd still not heard back from Angie, so I searched in the bag for my phone. I pulled everything out of that bag, my manky old clothes and all, but I couldn't find that phone. I must've left it in Andy's bedroom, along with the dirty tissues. That gave me a small buzz, to think of all those tissues sitting around when he took that nasty woman to his bed.

I'd go to Angie's place and try to talk things over with her. When I explained, she'd be cool with everything, surely.
As if to make things worse, it started raining.
I watched the drops splat on the window of the cab as the world outside refracted through them. The other day, when Andy had caressed my hair, I'd felt safe, like there was someone in this horrible world looking out for me but now, once again, I felt alone. Who did I have? Not my father, obviously. Not Andy. Not Angie, unless I made things right with her. I'd had so many friends once. People practically begging me to hang out with them, to go to their parties, to date them. Even then, I'd known it meant nothing. I saw them turn on anyone who wore the wrong clothes or had the wrong haircut. I'd been the same. I didn't even think anything of cutting someone who'd committed a slight transgression. We were an exclusive club and you had to know the rules to belong or it wouldn't be exclusive any more, obviously. Now I'd become a university dropout with a very dubious income, a shitty room and maybe three decent outfits, sitting in a cab, trying not to drown in self-pity.

When the cab pulled up, I put my bag on my head to protect myself from the rain and ran to Angie's building.
"What do you want?" she asked when she answered the door. She stood with one hand on the door as though she'd pull it shut any minute.
"Can we talk?" I shivered, even in that short distance, I'd managed to get damp in the rain.
"I don't think we have anything to talk about." She started to pull the door shut.
"Angie, is this about Andy? That was nothing. You got it all wrong."
She opened the door a crack.

"I got what wrong? I don't even know you, Hannah. I've worked my guts out helping you and I thought our agreement was that you'd help me with Andy. But, even more than that, I thought we were friends. I thought we were in this together. Now, I'm wondering if you were just using me. I don't really want to talk to you right now. And you owe me $15.65 for groceries."
She pulled the door shut and I stood staring at it then knocked again. She had to talk. She had to let me explain. How could I make things right if she wouldn't talk me?

"Angie, open up." I banged on the door. "Angie! Angie! Talk to me. You are my friend, right."
My only friend. I stopped knocking and listened for her. I could hear nothing though. I knocked again.
"If it's about the money, you can have money. It's not important. Just let me in so we can talk."
I heard footsteps and grinned. We'd make up. She'd listen to me and see reason then we'd be friends again and sit around bitching about what a bastard Andy was and making more plans for the band.
But the door didn't open. Instead, Angie turned on the stereo as loud as she could to drown me out.
I turned away. I'd really ruined things. The only person who still liked me was Jinxx and I worried about his feelings for me. I didn't want to give any false hope that things could be more than friendship between us.
I couldn't stay in Angie's doorway all night but I had no desire to go out into that rain again. It was only a few blocks to my place, so too close to even get a cab.

I ran out into the street and turned onto High Street, totally forgetting how crowded it got at night, with drunks crowding onto the streets outside cafés and bars to smoke. I'd have to run past them all unless I wanted to cut through one of the dimly lit back alleys. I figured it would be safer sticking to the main street. At least if I had to deal with drunks, better in a busy well-lit street.
I huddled in a doorway and rolled up the legs of my PJ bottoms. They'd already gotten soaked and flapped against my legs in the most disturbingly gross manner. I looked like a drowned rat, a rat in elephant PJs.

I wrapped my cardigan tighter around myself and pulled my door keys out of the bag and held them in my hand, ready to run inside when I got home, then took off down the street.
"Whoa baby, looking sexy!"
As I expected, shitty guys called out to me. I kept my head down and ran past them. Hopefully, they'd be too taken with their own drunken wit to worry about me. I just wanted to get home to my own room where I could escape from this shitty world. I could lock the door behind myself and hide in my own world with the blankets over my head. Well, first I'd have a shower and put on some warm clothes. Maybe tomorrow everything would seem okay. Maybe this rain would wash the world clean and I wouldn't have to deal with creepy rock stars and oversensitive friends and creepy drunks.
Another guy grabbed at me. I jerked away from him and sped on. This would have to be the most hellish night of my life. If Satan himself appeared and threatened to take me to the fiery depths of hell, I'd welcome it.

Notes

I kind of feel bad for Hannah. I mean I could rewrite the story, but then it would be like every other story. Loooooool. Thank you for commenting and subscribing Cx I love dat shit.m