At seventeen, Roman Cannes, straight out of high school without a nickle to her name, never thought that her life would change as drastically as it did.
Roman moved to Hollywood, California with her step-brother in attempt to jump start her career b...
I walked out of the jailhouse doors wearing the clothes the I came in. I felt disgusting—sticky from sweating and not having the proper soap to cleanse myself with for so many days. I expected Bleu to pick me up, instead I saw Roman. I was happy to see her but I'm sure the feeling wasn't mutual at the moment. I slid into the passenger seat and buckled up.
"Thanks," I half mumbled thanking her for putting up the money to get me out. She remained quiet and pulled off heading toward Calabasas but I gave her another route to take.
"Make a left at the light," I said.
"I'm taking you home," She muttered flatly.
"We are going home. Just make the left,"
She followed my instructions until we pulled up to the house that I had built for us. They finished it last week and this week was spent completing the inside. It was furnished and decorated similar to the last house we shared and this time I made it look like we actually lived there. Nothing was separated. There were family photos, photos of us, some of my framed records, her awards—everything that made us who we were. When I said that I wanted a fresh start, I meant it.
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We sat in the driveway as she stared at the front of the house. "What is this?" She asked. "Where are we?"
"Home," I shrugged inhaling deeply. "Started building last year. They finished it just in time,"
She put the car in park and shut it off. For moments, she stared in silence. Her eyes glossed over and I knew something was wrong—something more than me getting locked up. I reached over to grab her hand and gently kissed the back of it. "Is it one of those days again?"
She sniffled and nodded. "You wanna go inside? or stay out here and talk?" I asked letting go of her hand.
"We can go in," She responded lowly.
I grabbed what little stuff I had and exited the vehicle. I walked around and opened the door for Roman letting her exit as well. She moved a little slower than usual and occasionally coughed and she sounded really congested. I guess the weather got to her. It was rare that she got sick but her stress was probably what contributed to her illness. I also noticed a change in her physical appearance since the last time I saw her; her eyes were heavy and slightly swollen, her face was rounder than usual and the cleavage poking through the top of her shirt was much more revealing today.
"Have you gone to the doctor?" I asked. "You sound like you have a cold,"
She nodded. "Supposedly, it's the flu but my symptoms have changed everyday. One minute I feel normal, the next I'm curled up and feeling like I'm on my death bed. It's been like this for almost a week,"
