(no subject)
title: Wrong Way(edited)
author: me, dur.
notes: the isn't a fanfiction(about a band) it's just love story.
warnings: violence and adult themes
Layla was eighteen and homeless. Abandoned by her family, she turned to the streets. The streets were not a place for a twelve-year-old girl to be. Her little supply of money ran out, and the thirteen year-old Layla turned to prostituting herself to any man or woman willing to pay. This excuse of a life has been hers for five years. Five years of having meaningless sex, with meaningless people. She’s eighteen and used to the feeling of being cheap and used. The only shelter she had wasn’t even guaranteed. Layla stayed nights in the nasty motels her clients would pay for. Sometimes her clients wouldn’t even put out extra money for a motel room; they would simply pull Layla into a secluded alley.
Layla was well known around the streets of D.C. She gets more money that way. She figured that it was a good thing. Layla did the club scene. Sometimes she would just sit in a spot on the street and she would be found. If people wanted her business, they would find her.
Clients seemed to like her look: black hair, pale skin, and simple make-up. She had been called ‘Snow White’. Layla took that as a compliment.
Layla’s POV..
Friday night, time for a club. I left my alley and walked the four blocks to ‘The Red Light’, a local rock club. As I walked in, all eyes were on me. I smiled awkwardly and went to the bar. I ordered a coke and sat on the stool. I felt someone looking at me. I turned my head to see a table of four men. They all looked very young. I recognized one of them as a past client. Great. The guy sitting next to him had long black hair, he wore eyeliner, and had a full sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. He was playing with drum sticks. He was cute. For once I want to meet a guy and not have him know I was a whore. I ruined my life and now I must pay the consequence of possibly never getting married or having kids. His friend was no doubt telling him about me, and my "profession". Lovely. Mystery guy came walking up to me.
"Hi." He said flatly.
"Hello, I’m Layla." I said sticking my hand out.
"Ryan." He replied.We sat in silence for a few minutes, until he spoke up.
"I don't want to sound rude or anything, but I don’t want your business." I nodded. "My friend told me to come over here, but I’m not that kind of guy." He continued.
"I see." I sighed and he noticed. Dammit.
"What’s up?" He asked.
"I just hate myself, you know. I never wanted to do this, but I had no other option. I was thirteen when I started this. My family abandoned me, Ryan. I have no home, barely any money, and no education. I’m only eighteen. I shouldn’t be here." I finished almost in tears.
"Come to my place. Not for sex, but because you need a place to crash, and I have an extra room." He offered.
"Are you sure?" I questioned.
"Yes." He nodded.
I hopped off the bar stool. He took my hand and led me to his car. It felt really nice to have someone care. I didn’t know if he really did, but I took the chance. I have nothing to lose.
He had given me pajama pants and a "The Used" shirt. He had gone to bed, and he thought I had too. I was still up though. I was sitting on his couch with a blanket sipping some tea. I had his radio on, which was currently playing ‘Everlong’ by the Foo Fighters. Ryan probably heard me, because he came out of his room and sat next to me.
"I thought you were sleeping?" He asked.
"I tried." I lied. I never even attempted to get some rest. I was consumed by my thoughts. We sat in silence for a few moments. The only sound to be heard was the radio, still playing Foo Fighters, and both of us singing.
"So, what are you thinking about?" He asked me.
"Everything." I stated without emotion, or even movement. He nodded.
"You can stay here as long as you need. I don’t mind, and I am totally willing to help you out. I want to." He continued. I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t understand why he would want to help a prostitute, so I asked.
"Why would you want to help me like this? I’m a prostitute..." I trailed off.
"You don’t deserve this life. You obviously don’t like living it. You told me so, remember?" I nodded. "Well, you are a really sweet girl, and I would love to get to know you more. I have the urge to protect you from everything in this world and I'm not sure why...You never know, we could turn out to be the best of friends!" He said smiling very cheekily. Once again I didn’t say anything. Instead, I pounced onto his lap and kissed him. I didn’t kiss him with the dead, emotionless lips I kiss my clients with. I kissed him like I meant it, and I did. After he got over the initial shock of me kissing him, he put his hands around my waist and he pulled me close. The kiss lasted a few minutes. We both were panting when we pulled away. He spoke.
"Layla, I don’t want anything to go further than that." I nodded. "Because you’re more than just a hooker to me." He continued. I smiled and kissed him again. I took his hand and pulled him to his room. I laid down on the bed with him. He held me, and I felt a safe and comforting feeling wash over me completely. I sighed loudly. He bagan to sing me a song. I recognized it as the song we were both singing earlier. "Everlong".
Hello, I’ve waited here for you, everlong
Tonight, I throw myself into and out of the red, out of her head she sang
Come down and waste away with me, down with me
Slow how, you wanted it to be, I’m over my head, out of her head she sang
And I wonder when I sing along with you if everything could ever feel this real forever
If anything could ever be this good again
The only thing I’ll ever ask of you
You’ve got to promise not to stop when I say when she sang
Breathe out, so I can breathe you in, hold you in
And now, I know you’ve always been out of your head, out of my head I sang
And I wonder when I sing along with you if everything could ever feel this real forever
If anything could ever be this good again
The only thing I’ll ever ask of you
You’ve got to promise not to stop when I say when she sang
And I wonder if everything could ever feel this real forever
If anything could ever be this good again
The only thing I’ll ever ask of you
You’ve got to promise not to stop when I say when
I woke up the next morning beside Ryan, and I must say it was nice. It wasn’t me though. I was a prostitute, not somebody’s steady girlfriend. I had never gotten treatment like the kind Ryan had given me last night. He was so kind and polite. He was gentle and caring. He was just perfect. I had never gone to someone’s house and just slept. I was not used to this. I decided I needed a shower before the rest of the day happened. I grabbed my skirt and shirt. I had slept in my bra and underwear. I slipped into the shower and et the scorching heat consume me. I rarely have showers like this, so I cherish these moments. I stole some soap from Ryan and washed my body. I noticed he used GARNIER FRUCTISE shampoo. Must be for his beautiful black locks. I laughed and rinsed my hair extra good, for I hadn’t real had a real shower in a long time.
As I excited the bathroom I smelled something delicious. I went to the kitchen and saw Ryan standing over the stove with a pan. I went over to him and saw he was making pancakes. Homemade too! It’s been a long time since I’ve had actual food. He looked over his shoulder to see me. He smiled.
"Hey, how was your shower?"
"Fine. Thank you." We laughed.
"Sorry." He replied. We sat down and ate our food. I’m sure I made a fool of myself scarfing it down, but I didn’t care. I was going to take advantage of this meal Ryan had so nicely provided. We sat in silence, until Ryan spoke.
"How about we go to the park?" I grinned.
"That would be lovely."
We walked along the leaf-covered ground. I loved the pretty colors of fall. It was my favorite time, so I spoke up.
"This time of year always made me feel like a little girl again. I used to go to my grandparents house a lot. They were the only ones that ever cared for me. When they died I didn’t know how to handle myself. I was alone, broken, and frankly unfixable. I turned to the streets, did drugs, and had sex. Lots of it." Ryan just nodded as he heard my story.
"You don’t deserve this." It was my turn to nod. We walked back to his apartment. When we got in the door he looked at the time...
"I have to visit my mom today. I’ll be gone for at least 2 hours. You can stay here and rest more if you’d like." I nodded. He kissed me on the cheek and left. I strolled over to the couch and turned on the T.V. I watched an old episode of ‘The Munsters’ and ate some ice cream. I looked around the apartment and felt uneasy. I was out of my box. My world. My home. The streets. I went inside Ryan’s room an opened his dresser drawer. I took out a sweat shirt and some sweat pants. I borrowed to old tee shirts and took a beanie. I put the clothes in a bag and left the apartment. I knew I probably made a mistake leaving, but being there didn’t fell right. I wish it did.
No one’s POV...
Ryan had left the apartment 4 hours ago. His mother had made him stay a while longer than he had anticipated. He thought of Layla the whole time. He loved how beautiful she was, how nice she was, and how undeserving of her life she was. He was beginning to think he was falling in love. But it was too soon for that, right? Then why did he get a feeling that this feeling was love? He didn’t even know the answer. His mother said good-bye with a hug and I kiss, while his father preferred a hand shake. He wondered if this was the reason for his sometimes non-affectionate personality. He gave his parents a smile and walked to his car.
He got home and opened his apartment door. He saw everything straightened up. He walked through the empty living room and kitchen to his bedroom, which was empty too. He walked over to the bathroom and saw it was unoccupied as well.
"Layla?" No answer.
"LAYLA!" Still no answer.
Then he saw it. A little piece of paper on the bed. It was purple too. He knew it had to of come from Layla. Purple was her favorite color.
It read:
Ryan, so sorry I had to do this. But being here felt so wrong. It wasn’t you...it was the whole situation. It scared me. I know you might not understand where I’m coming from, but I need you to try. I’m a prostitute, Ryan don’t deserve this kind of life. I’m not used to it either. Thank you for taking care of me these past twenty-four hours. You are a great man, and I will never forget you...
Love, always
Layla<3
Ryan down on his couch and read her note over and over. It hurt to think about. But why? He wasn’t supposed to feel this way so soon, let alone with a hooker. He needed time to think.
Layla’s POV...
As I was walking away from Ryan’s house, I saw an acoustic guitar in a dumpster. I picked it up and it wasn’t in bad shape at all. I took it and sat in an alley way. I began to strum some notes. The words flowed out so freely. I could feel the power of this song even though it wasn’t mine. I could never write one so pretty and devastating at the same time.
Jinx me something crazy
Thinking if it's three
Then I'm as smooth as the skin
Rolls across the small of your back
It's too bad it's not my style
If you need me
I'm out and on the parkway,
Patient and waiting for headlights,
Dressed in a fashion that's fitting to the
Inconsistencies of my moods
It's times like these where silence means everything
And no one is to know about this
It's times like these, where silence means everything
And no one is to know about this
It's a campaign of distraction
And revisionist history, oh
It's a shame I don't think that they'll notice
(it's a shame, I don't think that they'll notice)
It's a shame I doubt they even care
(it's a shame I doubt they even care)
No one is to know about this
It's a shame I don't think that they'll notice
(it's a shame, I don't think that they'll notice)
It's a shame I doubt they even care
(it's a shame I doubt they even care)
Don't let me down
But whatever I have gotten myself into
Maybe has been slicing inches from my waist
It's my fist vs. the bottle
(and thank god you weren't there...)
And that's how bad could this hurt
Or against I won't feel a thing
(and thank god you weren't there...)
I tell you all about it
It's just not working out
(...to watch me hit bottom)
Not working out
It's a campaign of distraction
And revisionist history, oh
It's a shame I don't think that they'll notice
(it's a shame, I don't think that they'll notice)
It's a shame I doubt they even care
(it's a shame I doubt they even care)
No one is to know about this
It's a shame I don't think that they'll notice
(it's a shame, I don't think that they'll notice)
It's a shame I doubt they even care
(it's a shame I doubt they even care)
Don't let me down
This is why we were taught so much better than this
This is why we were taught so much better than this
This is what living like this does
This is what living like this does
This is what living like this does
This is what living like this does
This is what living like this does
This is what living like this does
This is what living like this does
This is what living like this does
This is what living like this does
I sat there after my little serenade to no one, and I stared at the wall. The brick and its lines were making my eyes hurt and tear up...or maybe it was thoughts of Ryan, making my eyes tear like that. I wish it was option one though, even though I knew it wasn’t. I had made a huge mistake. I had a chance to escape and be loved, but I threw that out the window because of my fears and insecurities.
I sat on the cold, hard sidewalk. I felt to alone; I was alone. Why was I so stupid? I had something that had the chance to be so beautiful...
As I was thinking when I heard someone come up.
"Layla?" I froze. I knew that voice.
"Laayla? I know you’re over here..." It was frat boy from the club. Yeah, Ryan’s friend.
"G-Go away, Robert!" I sobbed.
"Aw, is the little Layla crying? Come here. Daddy’s got you." I tried to push away but he was too strong.
"You know you want me. I’m just so damn sexy." I was so revolted. I only had sex with him before because I needed the money. Now the thought of Ryan was running through my head. I allowed myself to be lifted into his arms and to be put in his truck. I had no choice. I didn’t look at him once the whole ride to his apartment. I was too busy thinking about what exactly he had in store for me.
Ryan was sitting in his kitchen with a cup of tea. He was thinking so hard for so long that his head was beginning to hurt. He was so worried about her. He had only known her for a little over twenty-four hours. It was currently 2 am and he had been sitting there or at least 6 hours.
He had enough and got up. He went to his room to grab a sweatshirt. He looked in his drawer and saw a little purple not instead of his sweater: I get cold. <333
He smiled to himself. He grabbed another hoodie and left the building.
He wondered the streets until he got to his friend Rob’s house. He was about 20 feet from the door when he saw a crying Layla exit. I guess she really doesn’t love me...? He waited for her to be out of site and went up to 4B. Wait, why was she crying? He knocked frantically on the door. Rob answered clad in boxers.
"I just got laid!" He said
A look of fury washed over his 6’2’’ figure. He could look menacing when he wanted to: long black hair, hard face, huge body, and dark eye make-up. And he was pissed...
Ryan didn’t say anything. Instead, he lunged at Rob, knocking the boxer-clad man to the floor. The both of them fell with a thud.
"What the fuck are you doing, Ryan??!!" He didn’t answer. Ryan stood up and brought Rob with him. He slammed Rob into the wall. He smashed his head against that wall so many times that there was now a line of blood dripping down his face. Some of it had gotten onto Chris’s hands, but he didn’t care. He wanted to avenged Layla, and he wasn’t going to stop until the job was finished. Eventually Rob regained his composure. He pushed Ryan off of him. Ryan flew to the ground.
"Bastard!" Rob yelled. He dove onto Ryan. They rolled around on the ground, punching and kicking, until they were both pulled up off the floor. It was the police.
"Here’s our domestic dispute, boys!" The obnoxious officer laughed.
"Bring 'em to the station." Ryan and Rob rode in silence. They never once looked at each other. Rob spoke up.
"What in the hell was that for?" He asked
"You hurt Layla." Ryan said, still fuming. Rob started to laugh.
"You can’t be serious!!??"
"What are you talking about?" Ryan asked.
"You have feelings for that slut, don't you?
Ryan didn’t answer the question. He sat there and thought. He definitely had feelings for Layla. But, was it as wrong as it sounded?
Meanwhile, Layla was still walking around. She was scared, cold, and alone. She wanted Ryan. She wanted to feel his strong arms around her again. She missed his pretty long black hair too. She laughed to herself, but looked up when she saw a police car heading down the street. It wasn’t going to fast so she peered inside. Ryan!? Rob!? She was right. It was the same car Ryan and Rob were in. She ran after the car all the way down the seven blocks to the station.
When she got to the station she was panting and sweating. Rob took notice of her.
"Just the way I like you...panting and sweating." He smirked.
"Fuck off. Where is Ryan?"
"Over here, mam." The officer replied.
Layla ran to the holding cell in the back where Ryan was. She sighed and tried to imagine why both of them were here, and why they were all cutup and bruised.
"Ryan!?" Layla cried.
"Layla!?" Ryan smiled but that smile turned to a scowl. "Why are you here?" He asked rather angrily. Layla was too shocked to say anything. "You don’t care about me, remember. You must think you’re better off without me, so get out of here!" He yelled, as he continued again.
"But, but-" she started
"Go!" He yelled. Layla turned on her heel and started to sob as she left the police station. She had royally fucked up...or had he?