"So~?" You looked up as your mother entered your bedroom - her expression one of interest.

"So what...?" You echoed curiously, not understanding what she was getting out.

"So how was your day? Was work okay?" She asked sweetly; seeming to be intrigued.

"It was-"

"-Because if not I'd be happy to find you a part-time job of higher social standing. Being a waitress is kind of...tacky, darling. But nevertheless, if that's what you wish to do..." Your mother interrupted you - being conceited.

"I like being a waitress." You raised your voice a little, irritated by how stuck-up she was acting. Did the past you deal with her snootiness?

"Don't take that tone with me, dear. I only want what's best for you." She sounded offended; her voice filled with hurt. You relented - maybe she was only trying to make sure you got the best out of life.

"Sorry, I just...I'm tired again." You faked out an apology, using your exhaustion as an excuse so she'd stop being so hurt.

"I understand. You've only just come out of the hospital, try not to overdo things. Let me look at your wrists, the doctor did say you could take the bandages off when the wounds felt healed." Your mother sat on the side of your bed, her tone now fond and affectionate.

"Sure." You agreed as you faced your palms upwards, making sure she could get a good look. Your mother unwrapped your bandages with gentle hands, her thumbs skimming over the scarlet scars whilst she checked the wounds.

"I think they're okay." You traced the line of one of the fading marks and didn't feel any pain - they must've healed.

"Your poor hands...the scars make them look utterly repulsive! Don't worry dear, I'm sure some concealer will fix your wrists right up!" She gasped dramatically.

"I don't care what they look like, as long as they're not infected or anything." You huffed; holding your wrists close to your chest.

"Such backwards thinking." Your mother wrinkled her nose in disapproval and flicked her blonde frizzy hair back. You bit back a retort, deciding it'd be best to stay silent.

"So anyway - I thought we'd go shopping tomorrow, seeing as we're holding a party tomorrow evening at nine." She added happily, making your eyes widen.

"A...A party? Why so sudden?" You asked with shock, not seeing any occasion for a party.

"I usually hold them so that citizens of higher class can come together and meet people of their own standing. But a few good-looking and wealthy businessmen attend as well." Your mother giggled.

"I see...Not to be rude but I'll pass." You stretched awkwardly as a way to indirectly tell her to leave. Unfortunately, she didn't receive the hint.

"It's non-negotiable, you're going. And we're going clothes shopping tomorrow; whether you want to or not!" Your mother sharply snapped, her face flushed red.

"Fine, fine, I'll go. But why do I have to go to the party? It just sounds like an excuse for you to flirt with other men. Did you hold these parties when my sister and father were alive? Did past me enjoy such snootiness?" You wondered and didn't realise how blunt the question was.

Her hand flew through the air and smacked your cheek, causing your eyes to water with surprised tears. The side of your face glowed pink, the sudden pain following the shock as you realised what she just did. Your mother slapped you. She actually hit you. Why? It was merely a question! Her gaze was angry, her breathing heavy whilst she tried to contain herself.

"How dare you ask me such impertinent questions! I am your mother and if I say you're going to do something you will do it. Do you understand me?" Your mother hissed, her dark eyes glinting with unstable outrage.

"Y-Yeah." You stuttered; trying to rid yourself of the shock and recollect yourself. You were pretty pissed off, but who knows what kind of fight you two would've had if one of you didn't back down.

The next day you ended up going shopping with her, being as quiet and unresponsive as you possibly could. She may be your mother but Jesus Christ she certainly didn't act like one. Maybe it was the touchy subject of your sister and father that brought it about? Either way, you didn't like being hit.

"Ooh, look at this one! It's a beautiful candy-colour!" She cooed, holding a puffy pink gown against your body and marvelling at its beauty.

"Please mother, anything but pink!" You groaned. You wanted to bang your head on the metal rails, sick and tired of shopping. You'd already been through three shops!

"You don't like any of the dresses in this section. Ugh...I'll go put these back and then pick some out from over there. Don't stray too far." She gave you air kisses before she sauntered off; probably looking for more god-awful dresses.

Ughhhhhhh. A few seconds passed as you looked through the dresses, naming the worst ones and giving them a grade out of ten - ten being the worst and one being at least decent. 4...8...5...9...10...10... You were so focused on your amusing game that you didn't hear someone coming up behind you.

"Boo~!" A familiar voice purred into your ear, forcing you to give a surprised squeak. You almost hit the dress rail, not expecting a jump-scare like that. Turning around, you saw a grinning Ferris - wearing the same clothing as yesterday. Doesn't a striped sweater and brown pants with a faded fedora get old?

"Oh great, I have a stalker. A stalker who doesn't know what a wardrobe is anyway." You rolled your eyes as you crossed your arms, annoyed that he scared you so easily.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Ferris feigned being hurt and you shot him an are-you-serious look.

"I'm not even gonna start on that. Why are you here? This is a dress shop in case you hadn't noticed. If you are stalking me I'll call the cops, make no mistake about that buddy." You threatened sternly; not having any of it.

"Oh you will, will you? And you have any proof that I'm stalking you?" That superior smirk was back on his face as he leaned against the dress rack.

"What do you even want?" You were tired of the egotistical edge to his voice so you gave him an icy-cold glare, warning him to back off.

"You're feisty today. What's wrong, (Y/n)?" Ferris cooed deviously.

"Lets just say that shopping with my mother is not something I'd put on my bucket list. Nor is going to a party later tonight." You moodily explained, fiddling with a lock of your hair whilst you tried not to get any sulkier.

"I'm just surprised you hang around your mother after what she did to you." He remarked amusedly and you looked up at him in shock.

"How do you know that she hit me?" You asked as you stopped playing with your hair, too focused on him to do anything else.

Ferris frowned and used one hand to tilt your chin up; the other hand cradling the side of your face so he could check out the fading slap-mark. His thumb brushed over the faint bruising, being careful as to not hurt you further. Your cheeks heated up when you realised how intimate his actions were, making you gently pull back and play the blush off.

"I wasn't talking about that - she's done other things to you as well, y'know. Why'd she hit you?" Ferris seemed genuinely angry by what your mother did, his eyes glittering with silent fury.

"It...It doesn't really matter, I just-"

"(Y/n)! There you are, darling. I found a bunch of dresses that I think will fit you perfectly and-" Your mother exclaimed excitedly, but stopped when she spotted the two of you talking.

"Oh, who's this?" She eyed Ferris warily; probably noting down his ragged appearance and crying in despair over it.

"This is...This is a...a friend. That's all. Nothing more, nothing less." You hurriedly intervened, shooting her a fake smile.

"I...see. Well sorry to interrupt, but we really must be on our way. Lots of dresses to try, lots of things to do!" Your mother falsely laughed, snatching up your hand and tugging you away as quickly as possible.

"Mother that was rude!" You hissed.

"Oh for heaven's sake (Y/n)! He can't be a friend of yours - just look at him! He looks practically homeless. What a filthy man." She insulted savagely, speeding up as she shot a look behind you both.

Looking back, you saw him standing there - a possessive gaze in his eyes whilst he fiercely scowled at your mother. She was incredibly irritating, making it harder and harder to talk to you. He didn't have enough power to remove her pathetic soul from your life at the moment; that in itself being frustrating. He just had to bide his time.

So instead Ferris gave you a jaunty wave, forcing his lips to twist into a cold grin as he wanted to keep you in the dark. You shyly waved back, trying to keep your nerves intact. There was something really...off about that guy. But at the same time he was the only one who seemed to know about your past. What did you have to lose by talking to him?