#pierce sutton

The pavement was wet, rain sounds splatter through the roof, the night was dark and cold, what one could expect for mid-October. Adrenaline was pumping through Pierce, who had his eyes full of unshed tears.

"Please wake up." He begged, repeatedly, and he does not know why he keeps at it. Perhaps he understands that there is nothing else that he can actually do to remedy the situation. "Please, please, please, Tati. Please wake up. Please."

She is not waking up. No matter how much he begged, she did not seem to be listening to him. She does not tell him that he is annoying, or that he should take a hike, or that he is suffocating her. She does not complain about the cold, about how they will be late to the party, or that he is a terrible driver for wrecking a car worth a year of her tuition.

She just… Lays there. In silence, eyes closed, ever-paling face.

Pierce tried to push that thought to the back of his mind. Of course, Tati was going to wake up, she had to. With his heart beating out of his chest he tried to recollect what had happened.

The car had come out of nowhere.

Well, maybe it did not. Maybe there was plenty of warning, and he just did not realise any of it. After all, he never really went through drivers’ ed, and he has not learnt how to drive properly. Luke had paid off an instructor to slide him a license under the table, alleging that VidTok would not wait for him to go through the proper channels and that the Lambo video had to come out by the end of the week. That happened in May, if he recalls correctly.

Pierce screamed at himself for his terrible driving. Why could he not have just paid attention to the road for once? Called a goddamn car? Had his girlfriend drive? Told Luke to shove it?

I love you.

That was the last thing Tati said to him. She gave him the smile he adored and looked up with big, bright eyes and he could not help himself. He was leaning over to give her a quick peck on the cheek, only looking away from driving for a moment.

However, in that one moment, his entire world collapsed.

He could not even remember the crash well, though the entire thing seemed to happen in slow motion. He was too busy staring at the passenger seat, watching as that smile he loved so much transformed into a scream and lights seemed to shine from all around.

Pierce blacked out almost instantly, whether he woke up in seconds or minutes or hours was not something he knew. All he knew was that he was not out long enough for someone to get help.

Now he sat there, hyperventilating in a gaudy yellow Lamborghini, wrecked beyond recognition, with shards of the windshield all over him.

It took him a second to realize his hand was still laced with hers. He was holding on tighter than he ever did before. He willed himself to move his hand down to her wrist, covered in bracelets that he pushed away.

He put two fingers down over the bony joint and prayed. "Come on, Tati. Please be okay."

It was faint, but he could feel her slight pulse, and relief surged through him. She was alive. At least for now, she was still alive, she still has a chance.

It was then that he noticed the alarming pool of blood around Tati.

Outside of a few scrapes and bruises, he is not seriously hurt, but, looking at his girlfriend, he wished he could say the same about her. Aside from ugly purples on her arms and a swelling on her face, there was a huge gash on her stomach, through which she was bleeding out alarmingly fast.

He does not have any time to question why the airbags did not go off on a half-million-dollar car. All he does is stare at the massive piece of glass that had made its way into her stomach, spluttering and trying to get his thoughts on straight.

"Oh my God." He wailed.

Pierce just stared at the gruesome shard that had settled into Tati. Blood was pouring out everywhere, and he does not know what to do to help. He heard sirens faintly in the distance, but they do not sound like they would be arriving anytime soon. 

He does not have time to process anything around him, or logically think through decisions, he could only follow his impulses. 

He leaned over and pulled his hand over the glass. It immediately pricked his hand, and while it hurt, he did not pay it much mind. After all, if it is hurting him, he does not want to think about what something that sharp could be doing to the woman lying next to him. 

Taking a deep breath, he pulled as hard as he could, letting out a squeak as the glass came out. 

Pierce wished he knew what to do in emergencies. He wished that he had went to school like a regular teen and learnt how to behave in these situations. He wished that he could be mature and have a level head under this much stress, or at least to be able to make prompt decisions.

Instead, all he could do was look pathetically at the alarming amount of blood all over the glass fragment. 

The first thing that he noticed was just how long the piece was, how much of it he pulled out, just how deep it had buried inside her. Beyond that, all he could comprehend was the sheer amount of blood. Both on the glass, on the seats, on her torn shirt, the gore was everywhere. 

What hurt him the most was the realization that this was Tati’s blood. Everywhere he looked, little pieces of the girl he loved were splattered around him. It was as if she was torn apart and thrown all around. 

He wanted to vomit, his girlfriend had lost so much blood, so much of herself. It felt as if he was the one with the blood loss based on how much his head was spinning. He does not want to look at her, bloody and unconscious, he wanted to run away and pretend this had never happened. 

Alas, even if he felt as if he could stand up and run, he knows that she would not be waiting for him wherever he goes. She was here, bleeding to death, in need of his help, and the best thing he can do at the moment is to face the situation, assess it and hopefully find a way to save her.

Taking deep breaths, Pierce willed himself to finally look over to her, and the picture was bleak. Her cut really was deep. Stretching several inches across her stomach, blood was pouring out from where the shard was previously.

At the time, he did not think that taking the glass out would open up a wound, it was an impulse decision that he did not second guess. Now, he is facing the results of that decision. She was bleeding even more than before. He does not want to look, but still he saw the wound, going several inches into her. 

“It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay.” He repeats again and again, even if he is not sure if he is talking to Tati or to himself. 

He saw the half-full bottle of water in the cup holder and picked it up. He does not know if it would even do anything, but he figured he had to clean the wound to avoid infection or something, and perhaps that would help to stop the bleeding somehow.

He quickly unscrewed the bottle and started pouring the water over her. Whether it helped her or not, it helped him in no longer seeing the dripping blood all over her. 

Pierce shook off his jacket, the cold outside no longer bothering him. Tati had loved this jacket, always stealing it from him to wear around the house, as she did with most of his clothes. He never minded it much, though. In fact, he loved seeing her in his clothes, and he loved how they smelled of her shampoo afterwards.

He could never love the sight of her with his jacket again. 

He wrapped it around her stomach, tying it around her back. He hopes that the pressure on the wound would stop the bleeding, but his impulses again did not make him stop to consider the bigger picture, with how all the small glass shards covering the jacket could now get into her wound. 

Pierce sat back, not knowing what else to do. The sirens in the distance were getting louder, an ambulance would be there soon to help. 

“Tati, they're going to be here in a minute. Hold on that long, please.” He whispers, his voice melting with the splatter of rain.

He reached out to grab her hand again. For so many times, her hands were a comfort for him, reaching out for her was an instinct. All he needed to feel better was for her to squeeze his hand back and give reassurance. He needs to lend her all the strength that she had given him over the years, he had to save her life somehow, even if he is the one who put it in risk in the first place. 

Right then, when he places his over hers, her hands were so cold, so stiff, so empty. There is nothing comforting about them. 

“You're going to be okay. We're going to be okay.” He reassures, emptily, to no-one in particular. “Remember everything we talked about? All our plans for the future? They're still on, no car crash is taking that away from us.” 

He started to rub his thumb over her hand. All he wanted was to give her comfort, because just talking like she could hear him gave him comfort. 

“You’ve always been so strong! You’ve always resisted and fought with everything that you could give. Just do that now and you're going to survive this one, too, Tati. You're going to wake up and I'm going to be right beside you. All that's going to be different is that you're going to have a really cool scar.” 

Tears were finally making their way down his eyes. He pulled her unmoving hand up to his lips, giving a quick peck, and hoping for nothing else but for this not to be his last time kissing her hand like this. 

Pierce does not want their last kiss to be like this. 

“I promise.”

*_*_*_*_*

It is utter chaos.

I cannot distinguish a single sound in the cacophony that Candee had become, just as a firepower blast is heard over the music and the dramatic shout of a young man from the front door of the club.

“Someone got shot outside! He’s dead! He’s fucking dead!”

The only thing I can think about in the moment is, Shit. I really should have peed earlier.

Sirens are screeching in the street and the blue lights from the police cars are blinding. Security is pushing someone to the floor and people are screaming. A mass of bodies seems to be moving without sense or direction, roaring against reinforced walls like a beast stuck in a cage. It is a stampede towards any open doors and mass of bodies pile, all trying to leave at once.

Pierce grabs my wrist and pulls me to the side so hard, with such force, that I fear my arm has come out of the socket. His arm snakes around my waist and pulls me close to him, his hand grips my hair comfortingly and he tucks my head beneath his chin as he towers over me protectively.

“What’s happening? I can’t see.” I cry out, not really knowing what to do.

My eyes are everywhere, trying to take in the scene that is unfolding, as I’m sure he is too. One moment everyone was drinking, dancing, laughing and having a good time. The next, two guys were throwing punches and smashing pint glasses on the table next to us. Shards had flown in every direction, insults had been thrown. Pierce had momentarily lost me when the two of them had knocked into our table and slammed into me.

“I don’t know.” My boyfriend replies.

I can feel his body shifting as he tries to get a better view. We stop running and he begins to think, but I immediately panic. I have never been in an active shooter situation, but I went to public school. I had deep-seeded trauma of the many, many drills they did with us and all the survival tactics they wanted us to remember.

Mighty good it did me. I have no clue what I am supposed to do.

“Let’s get out of here!” I shout, pulling him along.

We race up a set of stairs through an emergency door. It was hidden behind a curtain at the VIP lounge, so it was the least busy option available, even though we would be just cornering ourselves, if it so happened that the shooter entered the club.

It led us to the roof. It was raining and there was nowhere to take cover. I only stop running when I get to the fire exit. I motion to use it, but Pierce stops me with a rather rough pull to my wrist.

“No. Let’s stay here, Tati. The dude is probably hiding down there.” He says, in a low voice.

I nod, tersely and sit down, leaning over the brick railing off the old building. I wonder how this death trap ever managed to get approved in the first place

A tense silence hangs between us, as we probably should try to be silent and not attract attention. If the guy is in the alley beneath us and we could, theoretically, get down there, he could also use the fire escape and come to us. It is getting harder, though. Tears gather in my eyes and panic grips on my throat. I wanted to scream, make a scene, just so I could breathe again.

Pierce notices I am growing panicked, so he wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me to his chest. He does not say anything for a moment, he just rubs circles on my back, keeping his breath even.

“How long until the press comes out? I think my ass is going to be handed to me tomorrow though when this gets out.” He tries to make a joke but the reality was exactly that. “Mom’s going to be pissed with me. The house’s going to get shit online.”

“You didn’t know this was going to happen. It’s not your fault. If anything, you’re the victim here.” I try to offer a more positive outlook on the situation.

I mean what I said, but I also know that he is probably right. His situation is not looking too good, in an economic point of view.

He was just internet famous enough to be actually famous, at least around New Hampshire, and he had an image of a party animal. It was part of the whole VidTok persona, even if it is relatively rare that he went out clubbing and actually did that. Alas, the one time he does, there is an open shooter situation, police in attendance and naturally the press are there after catching the news that he was out with his not too known girlfriend.

This was going to make one hot story, and brands do not like to associate themselves with these sorts of events. It feels something so shallow to be concerned about, but I am thankful that he came up with this. I could use some petty grievances to worry right about now, instead of my own survival.

I hold onto him whilst snuggling into his chest and breathe in his aftershave.

“Thank you.” I say, tilting my head upwards, kissing his jaw.

He peers down at me with a smile. “You? Thankful? That’s rare. What for?”

I elbow him lightly. “Don’t be an ass, Pierce. I’m trying to be nice. Thank you for bringing me over tonight, even if it didn’t pan out all that well, and thanks for looking out for me. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

He beamed like a billboard. “I’m your boyfriend, Tati. It’s what I do. I’m going to keep you safe. Always.”

Pierce rubs his nose on my neck and we stay there, huddled together, until the police come.

*_*_*_*_*

At first, when Tatiana met Pierce Sutton, famous video blogger, and they began to truly converse, he did not seem like much of a talker. He was evasive and full of canned responses that would not communicate anything at all. He thought he was very smart and very wily, trying to get extricate himself out of conversations, and perhaps it would work well on those coked-up semi-celebrities, but she was better than that and rarely cut him any slack.

Good thing she did not, because he eventually began to feel more secure, and she could get to know him better. On the other hand, she does come to regret it on occasion, since, for the love of God, he will not shut up. It can get annoying pretty quickly, above all in situations such as the one they find themselves in that evening.

The woman understands the optics of it all, and she is ready to argue it is not like that. She still loved him with her whole heart, but is mature enough to know that she can still love and appreciate him and resent the fact that he is bothering her at the same time. He knows that she had a shift tomorrow, that she had to get up early to make it in time, that she still needs her job, loathe it as she might, but he refuses to leave her well alone for her to rest.

Some people are bound to get wrong orders in the morning.

Her eyes become much too heavy and she can barely keep her posture standing straight. Pierce notices that she has become unresponsive soon enough and nudges her lightly with his elbow.

“Are you going to talk to me?” He whispered to his half-asleep girlfriend lying beside him.

“I’m so tired, Pierce.” Tati mumbled, barely cognizant. “I’m sorry, but I have to sleep. You know I have to go to work early.”

A small tug is noticeable in his lips, but he acquiesces without any further complaints. “Yeah, I know. Get your sleep, you need it.”

Pierce moped, then grabbed a book by his bedside and flipped to his marked page. The light was bothering Tati, but she had no energy left to complain. Soon after, she was gone to the world.

Morning came much too soon, and the light shined through the curtains hanging over the window. Birds chirped away and a soft breeze blew on the large glass that formed most of the wall that corner of the room, making a restful dull noise vibrate on the otherwise silent space.

Tati slowly opens her eyes to the dull grey of the ceiling, before rolling over to see her boyfriend peacefully sleeping. She smiles, satisfied, as she knows that he needed it as much as she did.

She looked over his shoulder to see what time it was, surprising herself with how late she is for work.

“Shit.” She whispered to herself, barely supressing the urge to shout in anger.

The young woman jumped out of bed, and the sudden shift of the bed awoke Pierce. He watched her move frantically around the room with morose confusion, as that sleepy haziness has still not lifted from his mind.

“Hey, what’s going on?” He asked, rubbing his eyes and focusing his sight forward. “Tati, slow down.”

“I can’t!” She shouted as she dug through the drawers that he set out for her, trying to find something suitable to wear. “I’m so late, Pierce! The goddamn clock didn’t ring.”

Finding just enough clean clothes inside the dresser, Tati tossed them onto the bed and threw her pyjamas off while trying to brush her hair at the same time.

“Tati. Tati, listen! You’re going to be fine. Just tell them you had car trouble or something.” Pierce tried to reason. “If you start freaking out, it’s just going to get worse.”

The woman took a deep breath, then squinted her eyes at him. “I could punch you right now. I blame you squarely for this mess!”

She resumed panicking about the time, all on the while she hobbled around, trying to pull your shoes on. The young man, in turn, had not even gotten out of the bed yet, he was too focused on his girlfriend and her crazy energy. He cannot deny it is at least a little bit funny.

Tati ran to the mirror and ran a comb through her hair, then spun around.

“Does my hair look alright?” She asked.

“Yeah, it looks fine. Could I at least make you breakfast?” He offered.

“No time!” She grabbed her shoulder bag and rustled around inside for the essentials. “Shit! Pierce, do you know where my keys are?”

She ran around the room, throwing things to the side, hoping to uncover them.

“Right here.” He held them up, tangling on his index finger.

Tati quickly grabbed them and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, hun. You’re a lifesaver.”

She did a quick last scan of the room, trying to see if she can remember anything else she might have forgotten. It was no easy task, as the place looked like a warzone, and anything that could be missing is likely buried under dirty laundry and cosmetics.

She should seriously consider cleaning up in the afternoon.

“Okay, I’ve got to go! I love you!” The woman said and ran out the bedroom door.

“I love you, too!” He called to his girlfriend before he heard the front door slam.

He slouched in the bed, sighing softly. Alone again, with little to do during the day other than recording a few videos and waiting for her to come back.

“That’s one way to start the day.” He mumbled to himself, though hardly vexed with the events.

Pierce went to the kitchen and made some food for himself. Eggs, bacon, hashbrowns. He wished that Tati could have at least stayed to eat breakfast, but duty calls. He would make sure to make her dinner.

*_*_*_*_*