Song: Missing You by All Time Low. I highly suggest you listen to the song when it comes to that point in the chapter. I've cried to this a couple of times myself. Sometimes life just really sucks. I won't rant. It's taking a huge amount of self-restraint, but I won't.

Elise and I walked downstairs, chatting about the release of the new 5 Seconds of Summer album [A/N: it's literally so good *faints*]. We headed for the front door.

Before we could get there, however, we were intercepted by the one and only, Mrs. Rosenquist.

"Girls!" She rushed towards us as fast as her thirty-inch, super expensive designer heels allowed her. (Yes, that sentence may have included some exaggeration).

"Hey, Mom," Elise said.

"Hi, sweetie," she said, pulling her daughter into a tight embrace.

"Hi, Lauren," I grinned at my best friend's mom. Lauren Rosenquist was quite the character. She was beautiful and extremely intelligent. It's just that she'd get sidetracked easily and her thoughts would often jumble together. It was quite amusing to watch, sometimes. She worked at her husband, Ian Rosenquist's, company. Her position was really high up and that's how the two of them met.

"Delilah!" She proceeded to squeeze me as she had with Elise. Lauren had always been like a mother to me.

She stepped back and led us over to a sitting area. It had two fancy couches and two equally fancy arm chairs. There was one low table in the middle and a liquor cart stood against the wall. The furniture was mismatched but it was in a fashionable way that worked.

Elise and I plopped onto one of the couches, Lauren taking the one across from us.

"Listen," she began. "There's this extremely important dinner event coming up for your father's company."

Elise groaned. "Please don't tell me I have to go, Mom."

"I'm sorry, honey. But this is important to Ian and myself. Many important people are going to be there, you know the drill."

"But, Mom!" Elise whined.

"I know you don't like these kinds of things. Which is why I made it possible for you to bring Delilah," she smiled at me, pushing her long strawberry blond hair over her shoulder. She looked so much like Elise, it was scary.

Elise's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yup!" Lauren returned, green eyes twinkling.

"Would you come, Lilah? Please. It'll be a lot better if we're both there," Elise pleaded.

Honestly, I didn't really mind going, except for the fact that I'd have to wear a dress. And I did not like the pleasantries that needed to be exchanged with people hiding behind their fake smiles and scotch glasses. On second thought, it didn't sound like such a grand idea after all. I gave Elise a skeptical look.

She stuck out her bottom lip in a pouty face. "Think about the food," she told me with wide, begging eyes.

Ah, the food. She was right. The food at these kinds of events was always spectacular. And what kind of best friend would I be if I just let my friend suffer through this nightmare alone.

"Only for you, E. And if they don't have steak, I will cry," I threatened.

"Yay! Yay! Yay!" Elise shrieked, bouncing up and down and throwing her arms around my neck. "I won't be tortured alone!"

I coughed, trying to get her thick, strawberry blond locks out of my mouth. "Your hair," I mumbled, sputtering.

She pulled back. "Oops," she smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

"No problemo," I waved her off. "I have to go," I said, standing.

"Alright. I'll see you tomorrow," Elise hugged me one last time.

I nodded and waved at the two of them before walking to the door. Before I left, I shouted a quick goodbye towards the kitchen, where I knew Frau Cambeis would be. I heard a muffled "Auf Wiedersehen," in response.

Chuckling, I pushed my way out into the chilly evening air. After I unlocked the car, I tossed my stuff into the passenger seat and buckled up. I stuck All Time Low's CD, Future Hearts into the stereo. Then I began to drive. When I left the Rosenquist estate, I rolled down the windows and turned my music up loud, skipping to the song "Missing You".

All I could hear was the song and the rush of wind in my ears. I didn't even understand why, but suddenly I was crying.

Hot tears ran down my face and dripped into my lap and my breath came in short bursts. There was a deep ache in my chest and it wasn't just from the lack of oxygen. I missed my mom. I missed my dad. I missed the mostly normal life I'd had before that stupid fight.

I pulled over to the side of the road before my vision was completely impaired or before I did something extremely reckless.

Those hot tongues of heat were rushing up my arms again. I knew I was about to have another panic attack.

No, I thought. Stop it. Distract yourself! My mind raced as I tried to come up with something but my breaths were quickening steadily. Then I closed my eyes and imagined a pair of blue eyes in front of mine and a steady heartbeat under my fingertips.

Thankfully, it worked. The heat receded and my breaths steadied. I let out a relieved huff and my eyelids dropped closed. I saw those eyes again.

Wesley's eyes.

My eyes flew open, a feeling of shame washing over me. I thought about what happened. Why had Wesley even saved me in the first place if he was embarrassed to be seen with me? To look like a hero, I guess. It had to be. It couldn't possibly have been out of the kindness of his heart as he refused to even acknowledge me later.

Maybe I'd jumped to conclusions? Had I said something? Perhaps Aimee had had something to do with it. I'd obviously overreacted. I mean, punching people? Really?

I sighed. This had to stop. Why was I even so upset about it? I'd known Wesley personally all of twelve hours. I had just felt so comfortable around him. I was cracking jokes about his muscles, for Christ's sake!

"Argh!" I yelled, slamming my face against the steering wheel. The horn went off and my nose started stinging. "Ow," I muttered, turning the key in the ignition and starting back down the road to my house. This time, I was not going to listen to depressing music.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I pulled into my driveway, hands shaking. The lights downstairs were on, which most likely meant Dad was awake. I couldn't handle it if he was drunk and violent again.

He hadn't been violent every day. It had just happened a few times, when he got really wasted. The other times he'd just walk around and ramble about Mom and how shitty his life was. I'd hardly seen him sober lately. How he was handling a job was a mystery to me.

I sat in my car, staring at the front door for a good five minutes. Finally, I pulled myself together enough to climb out of the car and walk towards the front door.

Inhaling deeply, I unlocked the door and peeked inside. On the floor in front of me were shoes. But not my dad's shoes, they were stilettos. And they were most definitely not mine.

I stepped into the house that had once been my safe haven. Now it was the place from which I most desperately wanted to escape. I hung my jacket on the coat rack next to the door. Keeping my shoes on just in case, I snuck around the corner and found my dad's shirt lying forgotten on the floor. Next came another shirt, but not my dad's. At this point it was obvious what had happened.

Or maybe it was still happening.

With that thought in mind, I plugged my ears and zipped up the stairs to my bedroom. I closed the door as quickly and quietly as I could. Thinking it was safe, I took my hands off of my ears.

I'd misjudged the thickness of my walls. I could hear the squeaking of bed springs and...nope. I could not handle the noises. I slapped my hands back over my ears and frantically searched for my best headphones. I found them lying on my desk and threw them over my ears. Quickly, I plugged them into my phone and put on the first song I came into contact with. Of course, I didn't move fast enough and a few of those torturous groans reached my ears.

I gagged and threw myself onto my bed, burying my face in my pillow. It felt like hours of me just lying there, loathing my life. I realized that my father had reached stage two of his grief: women. Maybe he'd passed his alcohol stage. A glimmer of hope ran through me. If I was lucky enough, this could be the end of cowering at Elise's house. Sure, it would mean a lot more noise-canceling head phones and loud music. But it was better than being scared of my own father.

With that happy thought and Gerard Way's pained voice in my ear, I drifted into my first deep sleep in a long time.