Elaine laughed when Klaus didn't respond.
"To answer your question, I'd much rather use the term 'Social Experiment'. Sounds more professional."
Her voice sounded like honey, but her words made goosebumps run up and over his skin.
Klaus paused. A gut-wrenching feeling met him like a 15-ton cargo truck.
The smile on their faces never left, and all he wanted to do was wipe it off for them.
His hands balled up. Knuckles cracked and popped, taking on a red-and-purple hue. But he stopped himself.
With all of his heart, he hoped this was just a sad excuse for a joke. A stupid prank taken too far.
Because, to be frank, he didn't ask for any of it. He didn't ask her to text him. He didn't ask her to call him day in and day out. He didn't ask her for anything.
But who did?
No one asked to be mentally manipulated; they just were.
Elaine tilted her head slightly; the same smirk from earlier remained on her lips.
The reality of it was set in stone.
This was who Elaine really was.
Not the girl he talked to for hours on end. Not the girl who made him smile effortlessly.
No. The person—if she could be called that—was a psychopath who manipulated people's feelings for the fun of it.
Seven years. Gone.
"So that's it, huh. I was just a social experiment."
The words mindlessly slipped from his lips in his daze.
"Correct! You're not a complete idiot after all," Greaser responded. His sarcasm was blatant.
Elaine gasped with exaggeration.
"Kevin!"
They both laughed. They laughed while Klaus watched with a defeated smile.
But the charade wasn't over, far from it.
"What? Tell me I'm wrong," he replied smugly. "No way, Mr. Bookkeeper over here actually thought he had a chance."
"With his nose up a book 24/7, I'm surprised he actually talked to a girl," he clowned. "Don't get me wrong, though. I truly am thankful. Because of you-" his hands slid below the small of Elaine's back and grabbed a handful of her tenderness. A soft moan escaped her throat as she bit down on her lips, turning them a pinkish white. "-sex has never felt better."
His words rang out in Klaus's mind.
'How long had they been seeing each other?'
Adrenaline coursed through his body, lending him ample strength.
But why give them that satisfaction? Why let them think they broke him? Though everything in him was ready to defend his honor, his mind knew better.
Klaus's nails dug into his palm. Not enough to draw blood, but enough he'd feel the sting in the morning. At the moment, the only hurt he felt was from deeper within—a place only Elaine had reached.
"Oh shit, he's actually pissed," Elaine said with a mocking smile. "What are you gonna do? Hit me?"
Her eyes turned warm. "I'll let you in on a little secret. That won't go well for you. The same way it didn't go well for the others."
'The others. So I'm not her first victim.' He let out a self-deprecating laugh.
Elaine and Kevin's laughter amplified. Their cruel, psychotic laughter. Like someone sealing a piece of folded paper with their thumb and index finger.
Slowly but surely, Klaus felt himself losing control. The sound of Elaine's laughter served only one purpose.
'Feels like a story I read,' he thought with a dry smile.
'Of course it did.'
Klaus took a deep breath. His grip loosened, releasing his nails from his skin.
A pained sigh escaped his lips.
Elaine's face shifted. Her blooming laughter died and turned to something different.
'Is that it?'
She frowned.
'That can't be it.'
During her experiments, she watched the subjects' faces cycle through a multitude of emotions: confusion, frustration, pain, and desperation.
But never once had she seen acceptance.
The mere fact that someone would react like this never occurred to her.
'No begging?' she thought. 'Not even a single tear?'
Kevin, unable to read the room, continued to hurl insults at Klaus, only to fall on deaf ears.
Klaus had already turned his back towards the Jeep. His two black suitcases rolled behind him.
Elaine stared at his back with irritation. Maybe it was something else. She didn't know.
"Is that seriously all?" She questioned under her breath.
Kevin heard her and grinned. His ill intentions were practically oozing from his smile.
"You want a reaction, Laney?" He grabbed the water bottle that had been lightly sipped from the cup holder. "I'll get you a reaction."
Water bottle in hand, Kevin rose through the car's sunroof. His eyes landed on Klaus' retreating figure.
Before Elaine could say a word, Kevin pulled his arm back and hurled the water bottle at Klaus with solid force.
The water bottle flew through the air. The trajectory was perfect. Not only was it flying towards his head, but it was flying at him, cap first.
Lost in his thought, Klaus was unaware of the danger heading towards him until a high-pitched warning cut through the air.
"WATCH OUT!!"
Still, he wasn't fast enough. The water bottle smacked him square on the back of his head.
The bottle fell, carrying his blood with it.
His vision blurred. His ears picked up a pair of footsteps against the pavement running in his direction.
Feeling himself grow a bit dizzy, Klaus released hold of his suitcases before dropping to one knee. His hand shakily moved to the back of his head, feeling through his locs for the wound.
His fingers came out more bloody than expected.
A pair of heels stopped in front of him.
"Hey, hey! Look at me!"
Klaus wanted to, but he didn't have the strength to reply, much less to raise his head.
Eventually, his body gave in. The exhaustion from the plane. The emotional damage. And now the impact.
Klaus collapsed onto the ground.
His head gradually turned toward where the water bottle was thrown. A part of him still hoped to see Elaine running over. That thought was shattered.
'Seems fate gave me a drama instead.'
He turned away from the road and looked at the pair of black high heels.
'Who wears heels to the airport?'
That was Klaus's last thought before his consciousness slipped away into the infinite void.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
beep
beep
beep
Klaus' eyelids fluttered. The attempt was in vain. After a brief struggle against his subconscious, he managed to open his eyes, only to be assaulted by the white of the hospital room.
The familiar scent of antiseptic wipes and medical supplies powered through his senses.
His gaze fixed on the ceiling, his mind replaying the last moments before he lost consciousness.
"Did I seriously faint from a water bottle?" He muttered with a frown.
"Yeah… kind of embarrassing."
Klaus' brows raised, then he shifted his gaze toward the source of the sound.
Klaus' heart stuttered at first glance. He recovered.
"You are?" he asked.
The woman in question was stunning. She was one of—if not the prettiest—women he had ever laid eyes on, excluding his mother.
Long, black hair curled loosely down her back, just below the dip in her hips. Captivating coffee brown eyes met Klaus' eyes. Evaluating. Assessing.
Klaus's gaze shifted from hers to her sharp nose and full lips before it moved toward her figure.
"Eyes up here, BoJack," she interrupted. "Fortunately, the doctor said it was due to the accumulated shock," she added.
"And to answer your other question, my name's Cleo," she smiled.
Klaus's inner book nerd perked up, "Short for—"
"No. It's not short for Cleopatra," she added. "Assuming that's what you were gonna ask."
A dry laugh fled his throat. He regretted it shortly after.
Time came to a crawl, and a silence blanketed the room. Cleo pulled out her phone, her manicured fingers scrolling through Instagram while Klaus lay in bed listening to the mechanical sound of the heart monitor.
Ahem
"So what happened?" Klaus asked—an attempt to cure the silence. "After fainting, I mean. I'm assuming they drove off, but how'd I end up here?"
"You have a lot of questions-" she paused for a moment.
"Klaus," he said.
"Klaus," she repeated. "But that's fair."
Cleo explained everything that happened in detail. From important things like moments leading up to and after he passed out. The perpetrator who threw the water bottle. The black Jeep speeding off.
Then minor things.
After seeing him collapse, she immediately called 911. She stood by his side until they arrived. She even went as far as to take a picture of the license plate before they drove off.
The irony. A stranger did more than his so-called girlfriend.
Cleo finished and sat in silence while Klaus processed the information.
He sat there for a little over five minutes. Still lost in thought. Cleo continued to wait.
After what seemed to be forever, Klaus sighed. His breath carried a weight that finally rose from off his chest. He tried to sit up in bed, but his body wouldn't allow it without a nagging ache.
"Here, let me help you."
Cleo stood up from the chair, took three steps, and arrived in front of him. She placed a hand on his upper back while another hooked around his arm.
He wasn't sure if Cleo noticed, but she had been pressing her breast against him, and it was getting a reaction. But he decided against saying anything if she wasn't going to.
Klaus placed his free hand against the mattress and winced. He pushed through. His back rested against the bedrest, the cool frame sending a cooling sensation down his body that faded within seconds.
"Thanks," he said.
"Don't mention it."
Klaus sat on the bed. A reminiscent look passed through his eyes.
"I'm so done with relationships."
"You and me both."
A knock on the door interrupted the somewhat heartfelt moment.
"Come in," Klaus said.
The door slid open. An elderly gentleman wearing a white coat and a stethoscope walked in. His forehead was creased, and his salt-and-pepper hair was combed back in an adequate amount of gel. Behind a pair of prescribed glasses, dark circles framed his eyes. Twelve-hour shifts and sleepless nights had that effect on people.
"Good to see you up, Mr. Lockwoode." He offered him a warm smile. "My name is Dr. Smith. How are you feeling?"