My Own Way

Mello opened the front door when was knocked. He stared at the woman standing nervously outside, clutching her small Christmas bag. The blond radiated menace, but then he smiled and it was like he was a small boy, charming and innocent. Aimee was not fooled. They were all agreed that Mello was not a nice person, despite the fact that he had done nothing specific against any of them. He had mainly drawn Matt away from them and creating a wedge that no-one could see past, but which hinted at dark imaginings on the far side. The redhead sounded distant when he answered his calls, and too anxious to finish the conversation. He had stopped responding at all to text messages and e-mails. Besides, Mello looked at them funny. More bravely than she felt, Aimee asked, "Is Matty in?"



"He is." Mello replied evenly. It didn\'t help that half of his face was masked by the dressings and his left eye was deeply bloodshot. He held the door open with a clenched fist and didn\'t blink as he stared. Worse of all, from Aimee\'s point of view, was that his expression seemed so amused as he surveyed her. He was munching absently on a bar of chocolate.



"I\'ve come to see him." She stepped forward determinedly.



"Be my guest." Mello couldn\'t keep the chuckle from his tone and she really hated him for it. There was something about Mello that made her feel like an insignificant fly buzzing around, to be paid no more attention beyond a vague batting away. She had the sense that, in his mind, any overt challenge she made could be laughily dismissed without his even breaking a sweat. Aimee glared, balling her courage under the fuel of indignation. If she was to find Matt in any way harmed by this man, she would be the one taking Mello down a peg or two. "Are you waiting for me to hand you over the threshold? He\'s in the front room. You know the way."



Aimee flushed and walked through the open doorway. As soon as she was across the hall and into the passageway, she heard Mello snigger as the front door was closed. She frowned and took a deep breath before pressing on down into the far room. The whole atmosphere in this flat was changed. The easy-going, twenty-four party was gone leaving behind it a heavy repressive feeling. It set her teeth on edge and sent the alarm bells ringing through her mind.



Matt was where he usually was, if he wasn\'t in his room or at the desktop. He was sitting on the floor in front of the television, intently absorbed in the racing game on the screen. His fingers moved rapidly over the controls in his hand, while his head bobbed and his shoulders swayed with the music loud in his headphones. Beside him was an open can of lager, plus several empty ones, and an overflowing ashtray. He appeared content enough, but when Aimee moved more fully into the room, he glanced up at her and she saw the bruising on his face.



Aimee eyes widened and she turned to look back down the passageway. There was no sign of Mello. He must have disappeared into the spare room. She walked around the armchair and stood in front of the fire, where she could see Matt\'s face properly. Hair and goggles shielded his eyes, but the right side of his face was yellow and purple, surrounding an inch long cut. He was deathly white, but that wasn\'t unusual. His lips were pursed, as he moved his virtual car around half of the track and into a lay-by. Only then was the game paused and he reached for a cigarette, lighting it before removing his headphones. "Ohai, Aimee."



"Did he hit you?" She asked, her tone tight with tension.



Matt smirked at her. "I walked into a door."



Aimee froze. He was doing it too! Matt was looking at her like Mello did, like she was a child to be humoured. "Would you like to come for a drink? For Christmas."



"No. I don\'t drink much these days." Matt shrugged, despite the fact that he had a lager in his hand.



"I was thinking more of going somewhere where we could talk." She glanced back at the doorway. "Privately."



"We\'re good here. Mello\'s doing shit in his room." The redhead stood and slouched off into the kitchen. "I\'m assuming you\'d like a can."



She followed him, watching as he opened the fridge for another lager. "I would prefer that we went somewhere else to talk. There are things you might want to say without the change of him walking in on us."



Matt smiled. "There\'s nothing I could say that my boyfriend hasn\'t already heard a hundred times, got the t-shirt and bought the soundtrack. Apart from a slight hiccup in the middle, he\'s been hearing it since I was three."



Aimee debated closing the doors, but she didn\'t put it past Mello to sneak up and listen behind them. It was better to see him coming. She sat down on the nearest kitchen chair, turning it so that the passageway was in her peripheral vision and whispered, "I know he hit you. I also know that he\'s separated you from the people who care for you. I only have to take one look at you to know you\'re not happy. You\'re usually running around completely hyper and now you look like someone\'s died."



"That\'s because you normally see me Eing my tits off." Matt wriggled the can that he had been holding out for her. "Unfortunately, this is what I\'m like sober."



"No, you\'re not. You look..." She struggled for the word, "subdued." When he didn\'t respond, she decided that she was on the right lines. "You don\'t deserve to be hit. Remember what you said to me when I told you that Justin used to hit me? You gave me that big lecture on self-esteem and that. Repeat it back to yourself now. Mello is no good for you."



It was difficult to tell how Matt was taking this in. So little of his face could be seen, especially as his gloved hand lingered near his mouth as he smoked, that it was impossible to read his expression. His stance though bespoke boredom. Aimee had seen it enough times in the past, generally preceding a groan of \'I\'m bored\', before the redhead did something really exciting, like hacked into her bank account and removed her outstanding breach of overdraft charges, or arranged for tickets to a concert without paying. Matt was so clever, she hated to see him losing himself under Mello\'s frightening personality now.



The conversation had ground to a halt. That was something that never used to happen either. Aimee sighed. "I brought you a Christmas present." She held out the little bag, its jolly Santa Claus beaming back at Matt.



He hesitated before he took it. "Thank you." He peered inside, but the gift was wrapped up. "I\'ve got something for you, but it hasn\'t arrived yet."



Aimee brightened. "You did?"



"Yeah."



"Thank you." She was staring at him and knew that she was. "I\'ll look forward to receiving it." With a quick glance down the passageway, she stood and crossed to where Matt was leaning up against the worktop. She opened her arms and tried to hug him. Matt\'s arms rose in the most cursory of embraces, then fell away again. It had always been like that. He ran hot and cold depending upon the drugs he was on. Buzzing on pills, he would dance with her and sit cuddled up on the settee; during the comedown, it was as if he couldn\'t bear to be touched by anyone. She stepped back a couple of paces. "So he\'s your boyfriend now? You really are gay."



"Yes." Matt couldn\'t meet her eyes. He was within arm\'s reach, but she could feel an invisible wall crashing down between them. "I\'m sorry. I know you wished that I wasn\'t."



Aimee flicked her hair back, as if it didn\'t matter, but the truth was that she was feeling so rigidly uncomfortable now that she just wanted to leave them to it. "It wouldn\'t have worked anyway. I spend more time wanting to mother you than anything else."



He smirked and looked back at her. She couldn\'t see his eyes, but felt the bemusement in them. "Mother me?"



"Yes, Matt. You do little, lost boy very well." She flushed. "You\'re knocking me off-track. Even if you are gay, you can do better than Mello. Can\'t you see what he\'s doing to you?"



There was a little chuckle, disturbingly reminiscent of that uttered by Mello after she had passed him. Matt bowed his head, scratching his forehead with a gloved finger. "Yeah, I can see what he\'s doing to me."



"I can bring the cavalry in. I can get him thrown out." She reached out, but couldn\'t bear the thought of touching that chill again, so let her hand hover redundantly in the air. "You don\'t have to be afraid of him."



Matt shook his head. "He\'s really nice when you get to know him." He side-stepped out and was in the doorway before Aimee realised what he was going to do. "Mell!"



"Don\'t! I want to talk to you, not him."



The redhead turned to face her and his tone mocked, "Talking to me is talking to him." He jogged down the passageway and knocked on the door of the spare room. A moment later, she heard their whispered conversation, though no words were discernible, until Matt said, "Nicely!"



They returned together up the passageway and Aimee tensed. The atmosphere could have been cut with a knife, especially when Mello fixed those icy blue eyes upon her and smiled. "I think it\'s so lovely that Matt has friends. Are you having a lovely Christmas, Aimee?"



It made her feel dirty that he even knew her name. She responded tightly, "Yes, thank you. And you?"



"Best Christmas yet." He grinned, showing his teeth. "Are you planning anything nice for Christmas Day?"



Aimee frowned. She did not want to exchange pleasantries with this bully. She raised herself to her full height. With heels, that placed her only a couple of inches shorter than Mello. "You have no right to hit him." It was out and adrenaline coursed through her veins. Mello blinked and she realised that he was scared of her after all. "He was really happy-go-lucky until you turned up and now he\'s miserable. I want you to leave him alone."



Mello stared at her and she involuntarily took a step backwards. Though dressings covered half of his face, the rest of it was very expressive. Yet for all of that, she could not read him. Her over-riding sense was that he could hit her too, but he didn\'t move a muscle. It was Matt who reacted. He reached from behind, arms around Mello\'s waist and his chin on his shoulder. He smirked at Aimee. "I\'m not miserable now."



Aimee exhaled, disappointed, angry, feeling like she had failed in some great and noble cause. "Matt, this is your last chance. Say the word now and I will ensure that this person is out of your life. You don\'t have to be scared of him. You will never be alone with him again and I will get an army of people to throw him out on his ear." They were both watching her, as if she was the one out of her depth. "Choose him and I can\'t bear to watch you go any further downhill. I\'ll walk out of here and you will never see me again."



Mello\'s gaze flickered to the side. He spoke gruffly, "Say the word and I\'ll go without the need for the army."



Matt bowed his head behind Mello\'s shoulder, though his arms remained in place. She thought he was thinking about it, gathering his courage for the sensible solution, but instead there was a soft chortle. "Matty!" He didn\'t reply. He merely straightened and reached across to kiss Mello\'s cheek. His hand found the blond\'s and held it. Mello squeezed his hand in return and the message was conveyed loud and clear.



Aimee blushed crimson with humiliation. Matt was grinning at her, like it was all so funny. She marched forward, pushing past them both and ran down the passageway. She opened the front door and slammed it behind her, hurrying towards the lift. It was several floors above, but she was heartened when she heard the door opening again and footsteps running along the landing. Aimee exhaled and turned, expecting Matt. It was Mello. Her whole body shrank, but she refused to cower. "What?" She snapped. "Don\'t you dare..."



"Aimee." Mello raised his hands. "Relax, ok?" He smiled and the softness in his gaze seemed almost human. "I just wanted to thank you for watching his back. You\'re a good friend, even if he repays it by being an arsehole."



She stared back in shock. Of all the things she had imagined him saying to her, that had not even factored. But the lift arrived then and Aimee stepped into it, too shaken to even take in the new information. "Merry Christmas." She replied, tersely, and the door seemed to take an age to close.



"Merry Christmas." Mello waved. "God bless you."



The lift door closed then, but Aimee held her breath until it jolted into movement, carrying her away from them. Then she just wanted to cry with confusion, betrayal and hurt. She walked out of the block of flats determined that she would never step foot in it again. Matt could go hang and let the Devil take Mello. She was done.