The Last One

Anna’s POV:

The set was up, costumes on, makeup in place and cake eaten; we celebrated company birthdays as equally as actual birthdays and today was Kenny’s. Two years since he’d joined the company. One reason we’d become so close was because he was also new when I joined, well, 8 months new but that’s not a lot of time compared to the rest of the company’s three to six years. We’d quickly bonded over not having a clue of what to do and he’d become a brother to me from day one. I was lucky enough to have a two minute duet with Kenny and I knew that if there was one night that I absolutely had to go above and beyond, he deserved for it to be tonight. “Good luck,” I whisper in his ear before we enter the stage. I can feel sweat dripping down my back and my makeup is almost definitely smudged but I convince myself that the audience can’t see as I support Kenny’s weight against my own, keep my arms strong and my core taught as he hoists me high into the air and lose myself in the energy and the passion that I have, for the show, for performing and for my brother. We leave the stage before everyone flies back on and we become lost in the rhythm of our song.

“Kenny, wait for me,” I call as I catch him up on my way to the bar.
“You did amazing tonight,” he pats me on the back as I reply.
“Well if I’m amazing you must be super-duper-quadruple amazing!” Tonight’s show was an amazing way to open our 7 weeks in LA, I can only hope that Kenny also feels the same thrill coursing through his body after that performance. I decide to break our routine of me talking whilst Kenny get’s our drinks as it’s his company birthday, but it seems that it’s the only night I can fail in doing so as I get separated from him in a horde of people.

I’ve just managed to get a glimpse of Kenny and made an attempt at getting his attention by standing on my tiptoes and throwing my arm in the air, when a hand snakes itself around my waist, I’m pulled around to face a man with a greasy, balding head and the stench of cigarettes and alcohol radiating from his rotting mouth. “Let go,” I grit my teeth and try to get out of his grip but he retaliates pulling me closer and breathing, “What’s a pretty thing like you doing here alone?”
“I’m not alone,” I gasp freeing one of my arms, but getting my hopes up too soon as he grabs it hard before anyone notices and places it around his neck. I know that struggling will get me no where so I desperately try and make eye contact with anyone in the bar as he latches his lips onto my neck and puts his hands up my shorts. “Please get off me,” I don’t realise that I’m crying as I push myself away from fat lips which are sucking hard on my neck. I struggle harder almost breaking away, but just as I go to step away he grabs my waist harshly and pulls me into him so that I feel the bulge in his pants. “Get off,” I demand a little louder this time but still no one can see me in the corner of the dimly lit bar.

“Oi!” I jump as the voice yells and a fist comes flying out of nowhere. The man recoils from the hit and instantly throws one back. Before either one of them can get another hit in I stand between them both, “That’s enough!” I manage to speak firmly. I cover my neck as best as I can, nearly choking on the hot salty tears that threaten to fall. I plaster a smile on my face, clear my closing throat and say, “It’s okay everyone, just a small misunderstanding. I’m just going to get this guy cleaned up.” I take the strangers hand and rush out of the theatre as I hear the other man spit and yell “Slut!” at me from the quietened bar.
“Shit,” I mutter, wondering how I always manage to end up in some situation or another. “Are you okay?” The stranger asks and I immediately try and perk up, standing as confidently as I can without showing him my face or neck, “Absolutely okay, now let’s get you cleaned up. Follow me.”

“They’ve put us in shared apartments, because we’re here for 7 weeks,” I ramble, trying to get away from what just happened, “They’re really lovely, sea view and everything.” It takes me at least 30 seconds to fumble with the keys before I find the right one, clumsily shove it into the lock and rush inside. “I’m desperate for the loo, I’ll be two ticks,” I think I manage to cover up the crack in my voice at the end as I sprint into the bathroom. I tear my clothes off and waste no time in jumping into the shower, forgetting to make an excuse. I let the tears fall freely but am sure to remain quiet as I lather soap thickly onto my body and try to see through blurred vision, trying to clean the dirt that I felt everywhere the man had touched me. “I’m so sorry,” I say into the kitchen, “Turns out someone spilt their drink over me as well.” I mask my crying with laughter as I scramble into my room and drop my towel. Bile rises in my throat as I take in the picture of the girl in the mirror. Red eyes, blotchy face, a deep purple mark on her neck and bruises forming in the shape of fingertips on her wrists and waist join the marks from her old ways. I turn away quickly, throwing my hair into a bun, slapping makeup onto the hicky, wrapping a scarf tightly around my neck and shoving bracelets onto my wrists.

I laugh as I step into the kitchen, my eyes and face having, thankfully, toned down. “So sorry about that,” I say as I see the stranger sitting at the counter. He’s taken off his leather jacket and gloves and is covering his nose with kitchen roll. “Shit.” My voice comes out clear and hangs in the air as humiliation boils in my cheeks; I take in his dark hair, his tattooed arm and his chocolate eyes, which are filled with concern. “What?” He inquires after some silence.
“Oh God…”
“Sadly not God, but hey I’m Ashley Purdy,” he raises his hand in the air waving at me. I can’t help but smile at his stupid joke as I look through the cupboards for a first aid box, figuring that focusing on his nose will distract me. Finding one I carefully remove his hand and the kitchen roll from his face and am pleasantly surprised to find that the bleeding has pretty much stopped. I rip open a cleansing wipe, focused on the task of cleaning the graze on his nose. “So, why the ‘shit’?” He asks, once he’s sure I won’t jump again.
“Because I know who you are,” I say flatly, “And this is not how I planned on meeting you.”
“Are you a fan?”
“Yeah, I picked up We Stitch These Wounds when I was 18. I must say, Vale is incredible,” I surprise myself at how calm I’m being; I’ve nearly finished cleaning his nose. “I’m glad you like it,” he replies happily, “I must say I’m a fan of your work too.” I laugh, Ashley Purdy, a fan of my work? It wasn’t even my choreography. “I just do as I’m told, the choreography was mostly done by the time I joined the company. Although, I appreciate the compliment, I saw you in Cincinnati; thanks for coming again.”
He laughs and shakes his head, “Why won’t you accept the compliment?”
“I just did,” I repeat myself, “I appreciate the compliment.”
“Before that you passed it onto someone else so ended up accepting the compliment of someone else. I love the choreography but I also loved your performance, Anna.”
“How do you know my…”
He explains before I panic, “The programme.” I sigh, of course, honestly I’m so dim sometimes. “Right well there’s your nose done,” I pull back, only then realising the stain all down his shirt. “Feel free to take a shower,” I gesture towards his top, “I can wash it.”
“Won’t it take hours to do?”
“You can crash here if you like? You don’t have too but the offer’s there,” I ramble as he replies almost immediately, “Okay then, thanks.”

Ashley’s POV:

I head into the bathroom and quickly clean myself up. “Ashley?” Anna calls as I step out of the shower, “I’ve left a onesie on my bed for you, my bedroom is directly opposite the bathroom.”
“Thankyou,” I call back and smile at the caring nature of the girl I’d just met. I wrap a towel around my waist and find myself laughing as I see the onesie laid out on the bed with a note on top:
Okay so I would lend you some of Kenny’s pyjamas but he might kill me xD So here’s a onesie… It should fit you, its massive on me – not implying that you’re fat or anything (far from it). If you don’t want to wear it that’s okay too, boxers (or do you call them pants?) are fine too I just didn’t want you to think I’m yanno… dirty or anything.
Thanks
Anna x
Anger bubbles in my chest as I reread one section ‘I don’t want you to think I’m dirty or anything,’ that bastard at the club must've put that idea in her head and the thought of him made me want to vomit. I take a second to think it through, I was too worried about my nose and getting blood on the floor to ask her how she was. I glance at her dressing table and the haphazardly placed makeup bottles on their side and powder brushes left out tells me exactly what I need to know. I smirk sadly as I pull the onesie up and clasp the buttons, Stitch, Lilo and Stitch. My reflection looks defeated, I can’t believe my luck at finding a girl who’s so kind, I was mesmerised by her dancing the first time I saw her and I planned on meeting her again in LA, but not in these circumstances…

I rejoin her in the open planned kitchen and living space and she greets me with, “Water’s on the side, or whiskey if you want something stronger, and I’ve wrapped some ice in a tea towel as well.”
“Tea towel,” I mimic her British accent and she giggles.
“Hey, some of your American words are bullshit. What are you on about!”
“Teaaaa Toweeel,” I mimic again as I drink the water.

Our laughing resides and I pick up the cold compress, taking the opportunity to ask her, “Are you okay?” She seems shocked by the question and her smile stretches a little too far to pass as believable as I continue, “Anna…”
“Yes.”
“I saw the makeup.”
She laughs, “I’m just messy, really everyone teases me about it.”
“Come on, Anna…”
“Ashley it’s okay, just leave it.”
I see her eyes fill with tears as she turns away, showing me her tightly bound neck. I approach her slowly and take her hand, I stand and she begrudgingly does the same as I lead her to the bathroom. I sit her on the toilet lid and search in the cupboard for makeup wipes. I’m successful and I ask her slowly, “May I…”
“Go for it,” she tries to smirk but fails, more tears coursing silently over her cheeks. I undo her scarf and as gently as I can I wipe the left side of her neck. I am surprised at how well she’s covered the huge hicky that the man has left her with. I carefully trace my fingers over it and she looks away, wrongly, ashamed of what he did to her. Next were her wrists, I think she thought she’d gotten away with it but I saw exactly what he did to her, it just took me a frustrating amount of time to shove through the crowd. I remove the bracelets one by one and she watches me place them on the shelf above the sink, never once looking down at the bruises that now reside on her delicate body. I remember seeing him roughly pull her towards him by her waist as I ask, “Can I see the ones on your waist?” I’m sure to ask softly and sincerely. She looks down at me slowly and a silence falls over us. I can feel her answer before it even leaves her lips, “I’m sorry Ash…”
“Anna,” I hold her hands in my own, “Don’t ever apologise for not letting someone see or touch your body. Horrible people, like that man, will make you feel guilty for not letting them near you or will make you feel responsible when they force themselves on you. They are the ones who need to learn to respect people. Please, don’t feel like you deserve any less respect, love or care because of what he did to you. Be proud of your body, Anna, I mean we both know what it’s capable of; your dancing... I’ve never seen anything like it! Don’t let this make you think any differently about yourself and never ever feel ashamed for taking ownership of your body.” She tears her big blue eyes away from mine as her tears start to fall.

“Do you want to get some sleep now or do you want me to get you a drink or something?”
“Are you always this good?” She laughs through the tears, actually looking up at me, “You’re catering for me in my apartment?”
“Of course I’m always this good, how could you this any less of me?” I smirk, giggling with her, “So, what do you want?”
“Tea please.”

Notes

Sorry, slow start but hopefully you enjoy it:)