She’s talking to angels, counting the stars; making a wish on a passing car.

Andy’s P.O.V.

I sit in the car, waiting for Beau to show up. As I wait, I think about the boy, Louis. I didn’t imagine that to be his name, but it suits him. Why, I’m not exactly sure, but it does. He was really nice and funny. He made me smile, which is no easy feat.

Beau slides into the driver seat and sits there for a second. He’s staring straight ahead and suddenly he bangs on the wheel. I jump, startled by the loud noise.

“Goddammit, Andy, do you know how expensive that was?” he yells.

I shake my head. I actually don’t, they wouldn’t tell me.

“Well, it was a lot of money, and it’s your fault that it went down the drain!” he shouts.

I shrink back in my seat and try not to make too much noise. When Beau is angry it is best to stay quiet and let him get his rage out.

Beau looks at me. “You just had to fracture your ribs, didn’t you?” he asks, as if it was my fault.

I feel anger stirring in my chest. “Well, I didn’t fracture them on purpose!” I say.

Beau looks stunned for a second, and I think that I finally managed to get through to him. “What did you say to me?” he says, his voice low.

“You’re the one who fractured my ribs, not me,” I remind him.

Beau looks like he wants to slap me, but there are people walking around. They would notice.

“This isn’t over,” he warns, and starts the car.

The car ride back to our apartment is silent, and it seems to weigh heavily on me. I can almost feel my ribs hurting again, as if they are preparing to be fractured again. We pull into our parking lot and we walk up to our apartment.  When Beau unlocks the door I barely have enough time to get through the door before Beau pushes me over the threshold and slams the door shut.

I stumble forward, catching myself on the wall outside the living room. As I turn around, Beau slams me against the wall and pins me there.

“You don’t talk to me like that,” he says angrily.

I know better than to speak. My one ounce of rebellion and he fractures my ribs. If I make my situation worse, he might make them worse.

“No smartass response this time?” Beau smirks.

“Do you want one?” I ask then immediately regret my words.

Beau’s face hardens and he slams my head against the wall. My head bounces off the wall and the room spins. I feel as though I’ve been sucker-punched in the eye. The room sways and I feel myself falling. The only thing holding me up is Beau.

“Anything else to say?” Beau asks.

I shake my head, but regret it instantly as it only hurts my head worse. Beau’s grip has slowly tightened on my arms until I can feel the bruises forming.  He drops me and the floor rises up to meet me. I try to catch myself but I fall, my head hitting the floor again. I moan, clutching my head, hoping that the pain will stop.  

I forgot that I had a slight concussion too, and this has only made it worse. Beau kicks me, not as hard as he has before, but enough to hurt.

“That was for being in the hospital,” he snaps.

I curl up into the fetal position as he kicks me again.

“That was for costing me lots of money,” he rages, kicking me one more time. “That was for talking back to me.”

He keeps kicking me, and I try to scurry out of the way but I have nowhere to run. It hurts, my newly repaired ribs being injured again and my concussion getting worse. I have to end this, and I do it doing the one thing I promised myself I would never do.

“Please Beau,” I beg. “Please stop, it hurts!”

Beau stops for a fraction of a second and grins. “That hurt, baby?”

“Yes!” I cry. “Please, Beau, my ribs! Please stop!” I plead, and he doesn’t kick me again, considering me. “I’ll do anything, just please stop!”

“Anything?” Beau asks, a grin spreading across my face.

I don’t hesitate. Anything would be better than this. “Yes, I’ll do anything just please stop hurting me.”

Beau nods slowly. “Alright, I’ll stop. But you have to do exactly what I say.”

I nod frantically. Anything to stop the abuse. “Okay, what do you want me to do?”

Beau smiles. “First of all, come here.”

I slowly get up and walk to him. He pulls me into his chest and kisses me. I am obligated to kiss back so I do. I screw my eyes shut and try to lose myself in his kiss. He smells the same he did when I first met him, and he is still is as powerfully built, and he tastes the same as he did on our first kiss. As much as he hurts me, I still love Beau. I love the person he was, not the monster that he has become. When he kisses me like this, passionately and full of love, I can still imagine him as the person I ever loved.

Beau’s lips move against mine as he pulls me closer. I try to ignore the pounding in my head and the way my ribs ache as I kiss him. Finally, Beau breaks away from me and leans his forehead against mine. We are both panting.

“I missed you,” he murmurs.

“I missed you too,” I lie, as I know if I ever voiced my true opinion I would get punished way worse than I already have.

“Come on,” he says, and picks me up.

I squeal in protest, like I used to when we first met each other, and I see a trace of a smile of Beau’s face. He doesn’t say anything about the noise I make, although I know there was a time when he would have smacked me for even sighing too loudly.

Beau drops me on our bed and my newly bruised ribs protest. I ignore them and watch Beau carefully. He digs around in his drawer before pulling out a clump of fabric. He keeps some of it and tosses some at me. I catch it and unfold it. It’s one of his T-shirts. I look at it then up at him.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“My shirt,” he says. “Put it on.”

As Beau is distracted with changing into his own pajamas I change into his T-shirt. Beau is a lot taller than me. I mean, he’s like a good six inches taller than I am. He’s strangely tall, about six feet so his shirt comes down to mid thigh. I want to put on some shorts or sweats or something, but when I look for them, I notice that Beau didn’t give me any. I just slip back on the sweats that I was wearing.

Beau notices what I’m doing. “No you don’t,” he says, grabbing my wrist to stop me from pulling them on.

I stop and tense, waiting for his fingers to close around my wrist and squeeze, cutting off my circulation. They don’t. All Beau does is gently tug down my sweats and leave me sitting on the bed in only his T-shirt. I feel bare and I want some kind of clothing covering my legs.  

“There,” he smiles. “Beautiful.”

I blush and smile at my feet, slightly embarrassed. Beau is acting like the boy I met all those weeks ago. The one who gave me compliments every second of the day, the one who always wanted to kiss me, the one who was gentle with me. I like it.

“Come on,” he says.

Beau lies on the bed and pats the area next to him. I curl up next to him leaving him considerable space but he isn’t having any of that. Beau pulls me closer until I am resting on his chest. He kisses the top of my head and slowly drifts off to sleep.

I can’t sleep. My body is tired but my mind is racing. I’m quite confused. First Beau hurts me then he is sweet and gentle with me. I don’t know who he is; the abusive boyfriend or the sweet one. I like the sweet one better; I mean, who wouldn’t, right?

After I’m certain Beau is asleep, I slowly extract myself from his grip. Beau is a deep sleeper. Nothing wakes him up. I’ve learned this from the very beginning. I walk over to the window and look out onto New York City. I love the city at night the best. I’ve always been a night owl, and I love watching the city bustle. There is never a quiet moment, always things moving. Cars still move around, even at this time on the night. Dozens of lights are all ablaze, lighting up the skyline. It’s quite beautiful, and I hope I never have to leave. I love cities; I’ve always grown up in them.

My eyes move to the stars. You can barely see them with all the pollution, but my eyes find one shining in the middle of the sky. I only count three stars. It’s sad, actually. My eyes lower to the cars and for a second, the lights on the cars look like shooting stars.

As I find a particularly bright car light, I close my eyes and make a wish, sending my prayers up to the heavens for the angels to hear.

If you’re listening, please send me my Superman. I want to know if I’m going to get through this. Please, just send me my Superman.

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Tada! Long time no see, huh? Yeah...... I haven't been writing this one in forever, then I listened to Undefeated by Daughtry at like seven this morning and I had to write. I don't know, it inspired me. Sooooooo is Beau confusing anyone else? Hmmm? Comment what you think! And do you think the angels are listening?

Love ya!

-11tay99