Today, I went back to the theater, dragging my heels. I stayed up most of the night thinking of Chris. I hope he's here today. I glance at the door as it swings open.
I jump to my feet excitedly, then meet him halfway down the aisle.
"Hey, great to see y-" I cut myself off. "Chris!" He has a dark bruise on his cheek. He looks weak.
"Hi, Jay." He tries to be cheery, but his voice cracks with pain. His very words seem to be strained, as though he was still being beaten by his monster of a boyfriend. I touch his shoulder and he grimaces. "Please don't touch me there." I yank my hand off of his shoulder, afraid of hurting him.
"I'm sorry," I mumble.
"It's fine." He hesitates. "Hey, Jay?"
"Yeah?" I ask.
"I know this is strange, but will you come to the restroom with me?"
I feel myself getting excited. "Sure!" I turn to the cast members. "Hey, just run some scenes and try to get off-book."
Chris nods and I follow him to the men's.
When we get inside, I close the door behind us.
"Lock it please," He says. I do. There's nobody else in here with us. When i turn back around, Chris has his shirt off. Oh my God! He's absolutely perfect... but his chest is littered with bruises and cuts.
"Chris...?" I fake confusion. He turns around.
"Is it bad?" He has a large gash on his back, that's quickly forming into a scab.
"Oh my God!" I whisper.
"So it is." He puts his shirt back on and hauls himself up to sit on the sink edge. I touch his hand, stroking it gently. I want nothing more to kiss his wounds, pleasuring the pain away.
He whimpers and nods. I close my eyes and take a big breath.
"Break up with him."
"What? But he's in my house and won't leave."
"Come live with me."
His tears fill his eyes.
I hug him in reply, putting my arms around his small waist. His answer is muffled against my stomach.
"Thank you, Jay."