Rosie: For fucks sake, Micah, I’m not contagious.
The remark makes Micah smile. Even with Rosie in the condition she is, she’s still able to be the Rosie Micah knows and loves. He walks over to Rosie and pulls a chair toward her bed.
Micah: Hey, Roe. How are you feeling?
Rosie: Doped up on painkillers, but I’m pulling through.
She looks at the flowers in Micah’s hands.
Rosie: You have a date after this or are those flowers for me?
Micah: *looks at the flowers* Oh! No, these are for you.
Micah hands them over to Rosie, who takes them from him. He notices the bandages wrapped around her wrists when she does.
Rosie: Thank you. You didn’t have to…
Micah: It’s the least I can do, plus my mom picked them out.
Rosie smiles and rests her head on the pillow behind him.
Rosie: How’s art history going?
Micah: It’s alright. We have a presentation next week on renaissance art.
Rosie: *scoffs* I’m gonna fail that fucking class…
Micah: You’re not gonna fail, Roe. You’re literally in a hospital bed; there’s nothing much you can do.
Rosie doesn’t answer back. Micah looks back towards the front door, then turns back around.
Micah: You got connections.
Rosie: *rolls eyes* That’s Hudson and his partner… Work partner; not romantic.
It makes Micah laugh out loud, and Rosie follows. She winces in pain when she laughs too hard. Micah puts his bed on the bed as a reflex.
Micah: You’re okay?
Rosie nods. There is a pause before she speaks again.
Rosie: Hudson’s my guardian. He works for the police department in Philly.
Micah nods, listening to Rosie as she speaks.
Micah: Does he know your parents or something?
Rosie: No.
Micah doesn’t push Rosie. He stays quiet.
Micah: He’s protective of you, huh?
Rosie: *scoffs* He has to be, he’s a cop.
Micah: No, I mean he really cares about you if he’s here guarding your room…
Rosie doesn’t answer back. She adjusts in her bed, making her arms more visible to Micah. He shuts his eyes for a moment. Rosie notices and becomes annoyed.
Rosie: I know you’re just dying to ask about them, so go ahead.
She lifts her arms as she speaks. She plops them back down when she finishes her sentence. Micah watches her.
Micah: I think the least I deserve is some answers about what happened.
Rosie: *sarcastically* Wow, that’s so entitled of you to say!
Micah: I’m serious, Roe. What am I supposed to think when you show up at my house the way you did?
Rosie: I was hoping a friend would just help another friend in need–
Micah: Yeah, if you had a flat bike tire or something, not when you’re badly beaten up!
Rosie: What do you want from me, dude?
Micah: The fucking truth, Rosie! Why are there police officers guarding your door like someone is still out to kill you? Was someone trying to kill you? Shut you up? Rosie, I went fucking bonkers when I couldn’t help you! Do you even remember what happened that night?
Rosie doesn’t answer back.
Micah: I know you don’t because every time I tried to help you out, you kept blacking out. I’m not trying to make you relive the experience, but not knowing what happened to you pisses me off because–
Rosie: Why do you care so much anyway?
Micah: *annoyed* Just in case you didn’t hear me the first 500 times, I care about you because you are my friend. I tend to care about my friends.
Rosie: Well stop caring.
Rosie adjusts in her bed, exposing your bandaged wrists. Micah looks at Rosie.
Micah: You know, when I was 16, I had this self-belief that my family would’ve been better off without me. I was nothing but a problem child that kept getting expelled for petty little shit. I felt this energy from my friends and family that I was a nobody. Plus, on top of that, I was getting bullied in school, blah blah blah…
Micah holds up his arms. Rosie looks at them. She notices the raised skin in thin lines on his wrists. She looks up at him.
Micah: My sister, Dylan, found me in the bathroom. She still knocks on the bathroom door to this day whenever I use it.
Rosie doesn’t say anything.
Micah: You don’t deserve to have people in your life that don’t care about you.
Rosie’s face softens. She doesn’t say anything to Micah.
Micah: I may not understand completely, but I still care about you, a lot. Like, deadass Roe you’re, like, my best-fucking-friend. I hope you allow me to be at least a friend to you… if best friends aren’t your type of thing.
This makes Rosie smile, which puts Micah at ease. Rosie takes a deep breath. Her face is now worried. Micah waits whenever Rosie’s ready. He’s taken back when she sees Rosie sticking her pinky out towards him. He looks at it, knowing whatever is said between them stays in this room. He wraps his pinky finger around Rosie’s. Micah’s body numbs in a feeling he hasn’t felt since–
Rosie: I’m sorry for lying to you. It’s something I just can’t tell anyone.
Micah tilts his head, trying to comprehend where she was going with this.
Rosie: I met Prescott on some rich boy’s dating site. He was sweet. Ambitious. Caring. He spoiled me in ways I had never been spoiled before by a guy. He took me to important events, fancy dinners… I was living a life I wanted to be a part of, but things always have a price behind them…
Micah doesn’t move or say anything. He just listens.
Rosie: After a while, we had… this agreement. I needed money to get by here and the bookstore wasn’t cutting it anymore, and before you say some shit like “Rosie, you don’t gotta do that for money if you aren’t comfortable”; I was. I did this shit back in Philly to get by. I agreed to do this, like, it was my fucking dream to get what I wanted without strings attached, but…
She sighs.
Rosie: He started to see other girls, and I got wildly jealous. I tried to hit him where it hurt and see some other guy– not like another celebrity– just, some regular guy. That’s when it first started. But, he always was sorry and took care of me. I forgave him because it was just part of the agreement, even if his jealousy lead him to do it more…
Micah was growing furious. He didn’t want to show Rosie, but he was only able to hide so much.
Rosie: Hudson called me on my cellphone that night. Prescott smashed my phone. I got angry, then he got angry, and that’s when things got bad… *sigh* and now we are here.
Micah: Did he… you know…?
Rosie: No. That was a part of the agreement.
Micah is in awe. He gets up from his seat, holding his hands on his head.
Micah: Rosie, what the actual fuck! Why would you put yourself through something like that?!
Rosie: *defensive* So you’re saying it’s my fault that a man nearly-beaten me half to death, is that it?
Micah: This wasn’t the first time he put his hands on you, Roe! What would’ve happened if he deadass killed you that night?! Just fucking tossed you in his garbage like you were fucking leftover caviar or some shit?! *realizes* You had bruises for weeks prior to this incident. You were out of school or weeks! He told you to not go to class anymore, huh?
Rosie: You don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about, so just shut the fuck up!
Micah: Why would you cover up for some asshole like him?
Rosie: Get out of my room!
Micah’s eyes widen.
Micah: You’re still in love with Prescott Jones, aren’t you? *angry* Even after all he’s done to you, *puts at Rosie’s wrists* make you do, you still fucking love that son-of-a-bitch. *scoffs* I swear when I see his dumb car on campus again, I–
Rosie: Don’t!
Micah: Why not? He fucking thinks he’s the man for beating up women, let’s see if he can keep that same energy with a man!
Rosie: *pleas* Micah, please don’t! I’m begging you just–
Rosie starts to cry, which throws Micah off at first. Micah is dumbfounded. He grabs his things from the chair he was sitting in.
Micah: Take care of yourself, Roe. Not some asshole that clearly doesn’t care about you. The Rosie I know told me that.
Micah walks towards the exit of the room, not looking back at Rosie.
…
A couple of weeks pass by, and Micah is seen sitting in the library writing in his lyrics book. He is preparing for the New Year’s Eve event at the Oxygen Lounge; the same one Tanner told him about before the holiday season. His phone vibrates on the table; he quickly picks it up.
Micah: Yo, I’m in the library, I’ll call you back… Yes Tanner, tell Dani I’ll bring the equipment over tonight after class… tell her to chill, sheesh…
Micah looks out the library window while he’s on the phone. His eyebrows scrunch together when he sees a familiar white Porsche parked outside.
Micah: Yeah, yeah… no I hear you bro…
He walks Prescott get out from the driver’s side as the passenger’s door opens. Micah is at a loss for words.
Rosie exits Prescott’s car.
— End of Season 1 —
Letters From Liz. 