Stockholm (Bryson Tiller)

9• You're So Subjective

• 4:02 p.m •

"Don't be. I'll tell you what, let's just go out for a little bit before dinner. We have plenty of time." He suggested.

"Go out where?"

"You wanna go shopping again?" He sat up.

"Again?"

"Yeah, why not? We need to find a dress for tonight anyway."

"Oh yeah. I almost forgot..."

• 4:34 p.m •

Bryson dragged me to all these high end stores.

"You want a purse? Let's get a purse."

"I'm more of a backpack girl..." I answered.

"Taylor you're not in College anymore. I don't know how many times I have to tell you."

I took a deep breath. "Right..."

"We have to change your look." He whispered in my ear as we stepped into Michael Kors.

"Change my look? Why? What do you mean?"

"Cut your hair? Dye it? I don't know but something needs to happen. Someone's gonna recognize you."

"No. I'm not doing that and I'm serious. You WILL NOT force me to do anything with my hair!" I raised my voice and people turned their heads.

He dug the little bit of nails he had into my skin and I groaned.

"If you were smart, you wouldn't have caused a minor scene."

"Minor." I repeated. "Quit being an egotistical bitch and keep it moving."

He's testing my temperature. It's my time to fight back. Burn this Nigga.

"An egotistical bitch?" He asked as he browsed around.

"That's exactly what you are. A fucking coward." I hissed.

He snickered. "You've got a lotttttt of balls Taylor."

"You'll never take that away from me. You can take me away from everything I own and my life but you'll never take what's in my brain away. Do you understand? I will always be two...steps...ahead..." I whispered in his ear while kissing his neck after every word.

"You sound crazy." He nodded his head while pursuing his lips. He's furious. I could tell it was killing him because of how he was scratching his arm.

We bought a black purse and left the store and bought my dress at another high end store.

•

The moment we stepped in the elevator to our penthouse I felt the tension but I don't regret anything.

He sat the car and house keys on the counter.

"Sit down on the couch." Bryson said lowly with his back facing me.

I obliged and waited for something to happen. Five minutes passed and still, nothing. His back was still turned and it looked like he was just staring off into space.

Girl you better count your blessings. He's about to go OFF!

He threw a wine glass at the wall, it shattered and he started yelling.

"YOU HAD THE FUCKING AUDACITY TO EMBARRASS ME LIKE YOU DID!!!" I jumped and my eyes almost popped out of my head. "I WOULD BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU BUT YOU'RE LUCKY IT DIDN'T ESCALATE!! YOU SELFISH BITCH, AFTER EVERYTHING I'VE DONE FOR YOU THIS IS WHAT I GET BACK?!?! DISRESPECT??!! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU-"

   I froze and watched him throw magazines and dishes. He threw a plate at me and I rolled to the other side of the couch. Before I knew it, he was on top of me on the ground choking me and banging my head on the hardwood floor. After every word, my head made contact with the floor and he shook me violently. I had a seizure almost immediately and Bryson panicked.
   I continuously bit my tongue while red foam spilled over my mouth. He quickly grabbed a blanket and rubbed my back frantically while saying "it's okay." repeatedly.
   After the seizure I laid on my side and threw up. Bryson took a long deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I've got to get you to the hospital asap. Look at what you made me do."