Figure 8 Ch. 08

And wanting him to change would be the exact reason he would want to leave her.

Emma sighed loudly. What a conundrum.

It was something she'd have to bring up with Adam. Pray that he didn't react poorly like he'd done once with another girl. Emma still remembered her. Chloe. She was half Korean, a quarter Black and a quarter Italian, with leggy stems and the brightest hazel colored eyes. Basically beautiful enough to be a Victoria Secret model, and smart enough to be more than just Adam's go-to friend-with-benefits. They didn't just fuck. They talked. They went gone out on dates, and occasionally brought Emma along.

But one day Chloe asked Adam for more. She had done it in the worst way possible by purposely asking Adam in front of Emma, assuming Emma would back her up. Adam had been so unbelievably angry that Chloe dragged her this. The final straw was when Chloe turned and pointed a finger at Emma. Her bright brown eyes blazed and turned yellow as she seethed, "One day you'll see what kind of fuck-up he really is, and you'll regret ever being in love with him. But for now, you're obviously the daughter of your retarded whore of a mother."

Emma didn't remember too much of that. Tear had blurred her vision before she could think. Everything was a muddle of grey and black and steeped in silence =. Adam grabbed her hands and cradled her to his chest. "You're nothing like that," he'd whispered into her hair, "you're nothing like her."

Adam had looked past her upbringing. Where others laughed and mocked her social anxiety, he waited patiently through all her ums and ahs. He knew exactly what to say to make her smile again. In many ways, he was like her - and Emma knew there were times he needed to shut himself off from the rest of the world. So if that's what he was doing now, then she should be willing to wait through the apocalypse for him.

"I'll see him soon, no worries," she replied as she jumped off the steps of the bus.

A few of the crew members and Nick came along and hugged her goodbye. Greg stood firmly beside her. His eyes wandered about before he asked, "Do you need a ride home?"

"Oh no, I can take a bus."

"My boyfriend is coming to pick me up. We can drop you off."

"No, I live in Candlestick Park, that's the complete opposite of Richmond. It's okay, I can take the bus," Emma insisted feverishly, stepping back from Greg with a caution she had never taken before. She didn't want him to know where she lived. Didn't want anybody from work knowing where she lived.

Greg looked at her hesitantly before nodding.

"If that's-"

"Yeah, positive."

Greg ruffled her hair, causing her to break out into a smile. "Text me when you get home?"

Emma nodded.

"See you at work next week then."

"Okay."

"Take care, Emma."

"You too," she replied, watching her favorite co-worker cross the street and towards a shiny Mini Cooper that had very handsome man in the front seat.

Then she began making her way to the bus stop. The bus returning home was about a ten minute walk away. Emma put in her headphones and started making her way down the street. Her head was down as she started texting Adam.

where are you?

The message registered as sent, but unread. She left another message telling him what time she'd be home. That went unread as well. Emma quickly logged onto Twitter and Facebook to see if he had posted any clues.

Nothing.

She walked a bit slower, checking everything on her phone for clues and possibly missed messages.

Still nothing.

"Watch out!"

In between those words and the next second, Emma felt herself fly back into a solid chest. A teenaged biker zipped past, slapping her in the face with a gust of wind, and yelled, "Look up, lady!" He turned a corner and was out of sight.

Emma turned around to thank whoever had saved her. Her throat dried up when she came face to face with Sylar again. Of course.

"You said bye to everyone but me," Sylar muttered. His voice reverberated in her chest as if they were in a cave. "That was pretty rude."

Her body was in flames from his touch.

"I'm sorry."

Sylar shrugged and let her go. "It's fine."

He walked past her, bag resting over one shoulder and hands shoved deep into his pockets. The grey hoodie wrapped around his body perfectly. His legs went on for miles. Compared to the other porn stars Emma had seen, Sylar carried an air that made seem like a rock star.

She loved watching him. What girl didn't? Sylar was gorgeous. His mesmerizing green eyes took attention away from the rest of his face. And his smile. When those lips broke and curved upwards, it wasn't leering or invasive like all the other men she worked with. In fact, Emma thought his smile had a childish delight to it.

So when she ran up to him and tapped her finger against his hard shoulder, she wasn't prepared for the astonished look he turned on her. The hair on his chin was growing out. Emma preferred the unshaven look on him. It made him look less of pretty-boy.

"Oh," she muttered. "Um. Just wanted to say thanks. And bye."

Sylar looked cautiously at a few strangers who had been eyeing him as he adjusted his weekender over his shoulders. With a frown, Sylar pulled his hood up and stood to block their view of Emma. Now they were pointing shamelessly at the both of them.

She looked so cute in her oversized mustard colored sweater and black tights. Her bag slung awkwardly over her shoulders, causing her to stand crookedly to the side.

"Can I ask a question?" He muttered without waiting for her to respond, "Would it make you feel better if I just stopped talking to you?"

She met his eyes and was stunned by the cold look in them.

"What do you mean?"

At the same time, the strangers behind him starting calling out his name. They shouted juvenile compliments about his videos. Other people that walked by flashed condescending looks that made Emma blush as she realized they thought she was a porn star too.

Sylar rubbed his tired eyes. When his hand came down, Emma thought he looked worn out. More weary than a man should be at his age.

"Hey, is she going to be in your next video?"

Another voice came little more hushed but still audible. "She's really not as pretty as the others though."

Emma lowered her head. She wasn't as pretty. Expected yet... Of course. Emma refused to focus on the growing rejection, even if it was by a couple of teenage brats.

"Yo, what if she's his girlfriend?"

"Dude Sylar, you can your girlfriend want to join our next house party? It can be like Faye Reagan and her boy—"

Sylar whipped around. His silhouette squared up and with calculating steps, he moved towards his so-called admirers - three teenaged boys.

"What do you guys want?"

"Hey man, just some tips on how to get a girl or something. Or a discount to one of those-"

"What's your name?"

"Brandon."

Emma leaned to the side to watch this interaction. They wore loose pants that hugged below their hips and black hoodies. The two behind Brandon snickered as Sylar took his hands from his pockets.

"How old are you Brandon?"

"Sixteen, why?"

Sylar lifted a finger and urged him to come over.

Brandon gladly hopped over but once he was within a foot, Sylar snatched him by the collar and dragged him forward. Emma gasped. She jumped back and tried to avoid the boy but stopped when she realized that Sylar was bringing him to her.

"Hey man, what are you doing! You fucking pervert, get your hands off me!"

Several pedestrians watched but made no move to help that boy that was being forced onto his knees. Sylar ignored his struggles and pushed him to the ground. He hissed into the boy's ear. "It's okay that you out me as a porn star in public, but it's not okay to assume every girl I'm with is one too."

"Jesus, okay, okay. Let me up."

"Say you're sorry for thinking she's whore."

"Sylar—" Emma stopped as Sylar gave the boy a good shake.

"S-so-sorry I thought you were a whore."

Sylar snapped away from the boy and dusted his hands off. He glared at the boy's friends. "For future reference, you want to have sex with a girl? It's simple. Ask her permission." As the boys scurried away for their dear life, Sylar turned to a startled Emma. The intense gaze from earlier on had been replaced with a muted lost expression. "I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice indicating it would be the final time he mentioned this, "Nobody will ever bother you again."

He left Emma standing alone under the stares of a couple strangers. Even he walked away, entirely confused over how quickly he'd given up.

***

Outside the moments they interacted, Emma didn't see much of Sylar. But when he did come close it was like a caged combustion turning her insides all in one blow. It was hard to think whenever he got close. And now he was saying he'd never bother her again?

Emma shook her head as she unlocked her door. She really didn't understand what was going on with her life. It just seemed to be one huge fuck up after the next. How did that happen? This was just supposed to be an easy job. Get in, get out, she repeated. Get in, get out.
She pushed the door open to a dark house. The lights were off and the house carried a still silence that was only interrupted by the occasional buzz from the refrigerator.

"Adam?" she called out.

Slipping off her shoes, Emma noticed that there seemed to be more space. Maybe Adam had cleaned while she was gone. She smiled at mental image of Adam whistling and vacuuming as he worked. He had a lovely whistling tone.

In her room, the bed was neatly tucked in. She dropped her bag by the door and looked around curiously. Her room had definitely been in a worst state than this. She walked over to her dresser, passing the closet. It was only a brief glance, but she knew Adam well enough to know his presence... and the absence of it. Like lightning, she ran out to the living room. The shoe rack was filled with her shoes. She went to the bathroom and scanned every inch, from the sink to the tub. His razor and toothbrush were missing. She rounded the corner again and pushed the door to her room wide open. It was gone.

Adam's guitar.

His suitcase.

His shoes.

Everything.

Adam was gone.

***

It was hard to keep up the pretense at work. Pretend that her boyfriend hadn't just run out on her. Was it because of her? Emma closed her eyes and tried to clear her head, but in the deepest moment of silence, just when she thought she was free, Adam's stupid face came to mind again.

"There has to be a reason," she muttered unconvincingly even to herself. She'd turn the entire house upside down looking for a clue. A letter. Even a pathetic "I'm sorry" note would've been sufficient. She would've taken any answer that suggested he had a heart.

Adam the heartless. It'd been one of his short lived nickname during college. Now she knew it was true. First hand experience.

As Nick yelled, "Action," the sounds of fresh sex filled the room.

Emma tried to watch the scene as passively as possible. The two girls wriggled like snakes in a nest, grinding and kissing, as if their bodies were one living being. It wasn't until one of them lost control and guided the other girl's hand between her legs that Emma felt the prickling start behind her eyes.

It was like a jolt of electricity.

"Shit," she muttered as she felt the tears in her eyes come. Without interrupting the scene Nick was working on, she rushed to the bathroom. Praying it would be empty, especially since it was a unisex bathroom. It was.

Scampering right into a stall, trying to outrun the tears, she quickly pushed the toilet cover down. The loud clang shook her up. Gave her a small reprieve before the wall of feelings came crashing back down. As soon as she sat, tears wretched out of her like soaking wet rag.

She tried everything from holding her breath to blinking furiously, but nothing could stop her body from shaking or crying. Every sob squeezed the life out of her heart and tried for more. Her chest felt as if someone had taken a stake to it and left it in.

Pulling out her phone, she checked her messages again.

Nothing.

For severals days, nothing.

No response to any of her calls, messages or emails.

Emma wasn't sure if it was three or four days. Five or two. The bright and dark skies blurred seamlessly one after another until she no longer knew what she was doing. The only comfort she found was in editing videos. It was a mindless job. Watching the rich creamy bodies twist and grind upon each other did nothing but remind of her the empty bed at home.

She felt Adam's name form in her throat like a lodged fish bone. The desire started as sound and had now manifested into a physical block. A mixture of emotions prevented her from saying it aloud, from releasing everything. Pride because she didn't want to admit she was another notch on the bedpost. Anger because he was her best friend and he betrayed her. Shame because she'd fallen for his typical womanizing ways... I should've known better, she thought.

The door opened and she heard footsteps come in. Without thinking, Emma drew up her legs to hide. Her heart raced as she watched a pair of tall stilettos tap against the tiled floor. Water turned on, and the woman outside began to hum. It was a terrible sound, like she didn't have enough breath.

Emma clutched her legs to her chest. Pressing her head against her knees, she tried to reason her way out of crying.

In a twisted way, she understood Adam reverting to his old habits. She'd even expected it and was secretly glad he lived up to her low expectations. Things would've turned out for the worst if he'd truly captured her heart and left. Hatred was the most logical reaction... but as every call went straight to voicemail... when every text message was marked unread...

Emma felt her heart beat wildly.

What were the chances that he wasn't ignoring her, but in genuine trouble?

Fear that surged through her chest...

...as well as hope.

The world began to spin slightly from her holding her breath for too long. As she gasped, the sound of rushing water stopped. There were a few sharp clacks before whoever was outside made their way out.

Emma thought she'd be able to relax now that the woman was gone. But she couldn't. Without the sound of rushing water, the tapping against the tiles... she felt unstable, like a lone cloud in the sky. Her head was still spinning. The bright fluorescent lights flooding and reflecting of the floor was just making everything worse.

She reached for the door, a raspy call for help, and fell forward. Thankfully, slamming her head against the door jolted her awake. With weak hands, Emma unlocked the door and stumbled out. Her stomach growled and twisted itself in hunger.

When was the last time she ate?

"Ugh," she muttered as she wobbled to the sink. There were some fruits outside. She'd have to eat a banana to help tide her stomach over. Suddenly Emma felt her legs cramp up and fail her. "No..."

Using the counter as support, she managed to slide against the wall. The door came within her hand's reach. Then with the last amount of energy she had, she closed her eyes to stifle the swirling ground. Her hand swiped at the door, which magically opened on its own. Emma felt a presence hover over her before the blackness covering her eyes also consumed her mind.

"Whoa!"

***

Sylar stood there with an unconscious Emma in his arms.

It'd been awhile since he'd seen her. A week to be exact. A week wasn't a long time in the grand scheme of things. Usually a week slipped through his mind like a lost penny. But this time he purposely requested the time off to stay away from her. Seven days wasn't enough to purge his desire for Emma. He knew that. It was just supposed to be enough for logic to take over.

But here she was now... in his arms. Incredibly light and cool.

Time had not dulled his feelings for her. If anything, they strengthened ten fold now because instead of finding her plain, Sylar thought Emma was utterly flawless. Her relaxed expression gave her face a maturity that had him thinking about how she'd look in a few years. If he was lucky enough to still know her then...

Gripping her close, Sylar brought her out towards the set where Greg immediately spotted them.

"Emma!"

Greg reached forward to tug her out of Sylar's hold. Reflexively, Sylar held still.

"Calm down," he growled, "I could've dropped her."

With that, Greg stepped away. Other members of the crew were coming now. Footsteps and shouts echoed throughout the set. Sylar noticed her brow crinkle. She was waking up. Anxiety tore through him as he debated whether to give her to Greg or hold still.

She woke up before he could decide.

"Sylar?" her voice said hoarsely.

"Emma, you fainted in the bathroom!" Greg pushed at Sylar's shoulder until he slowly let her down. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just... low blood sugar probably."

"What's going on?"

Nick's voice echoed through the room. His footsteps clapped loudly against the wooden floor with impatience. As Nick got closer, Sylar reluctantly released his hold. "I'll go get you a banana," he muttered, not daring to meet her eyes. He walked away and Emma strangely felt a brush of coldness overwhelm her. She shivered, and was immediately met by her concerned boss.

"What happened?"

"I fainted," she replied, embarrassed. "It's okay, I'm alright now."

"Do you want to go home?"

Emma shook her head and regretted it immediately. Even that small act made her feel woozy. "No, it's fine. I can work."

"Your lips are white. I think you should go home."

"But there's only a few more hours—"

Nick raised his hand. "Exactly. Only a few hours. You can pick up the tapes tomorrow or I'll have Greg drop them off and you can work from home, okay?"

Emma really didn't want to work from home, not where everything still reminded her of Adam. But she didn't have the strength or desire to argue. She didn't really have a choice. So she just nodded.

Nick turned around to get back to work. Emma reached out for Greg, who grabbed it and took her to back to the desk to collect her things. Everyone watched silently from the sidelines. Emma hated the attention. Hated being made out to be the helpless all over again. But what could she do? She'd literally fainted and got carried out by Sylar.

Oh God, she thought, letting her head drop heavily like a thousand pound weight. He'd been carrying her. Why was he here? Why was he the one to catch her?

In the aftermath of Adam's disappearance, she'd forgotten all about Sylar. She hadn't expected his face to be the first thing she'd see. All those confusing feelings came back. It'd been a week since he came by the studio... seeing him looking down at her made her heart race and stomach churn like she'd taken a misstep on the stairs. Then she was settled back on her feet and he was gone. Greg in his place.

Was she going crazy now? Why was his face the one she saw and not Adam's?

"You sure you're okay?" Greg asked, watching her forcibly shove things into her bag. Those hard drives looked heavy. The weight would slowly build up. It looked like she'd be completely worn out by the time she walked to her bus stop. "Everything okay with the boyfriend? Haven't heard much about him since we came back from camp."

"Oh, of course. He just... had to do some things before the tour. We're both busy."

She stopped moving for a second. Her expression lost in space before she gave an unconvincing smile and threw her backpack over her shoulders.

"See you tomorrow?"

Greg paused. His eyes swept over her with concern before he nodded. "Get some rest, Emma."

She was already walking away as she waved.

"I'll try."

Greg kept his eyes on her until she was out the doors. Even in her gaunt there was something melancholic about it. She dragged her feet a lot, he noticed — was that something she always did? Shaking his head, he decided that he would bring her the tapes tomorrow. Maybe Sylar was right. Girls in love didn't smile like that. Maybe there was something wrong with that boyfriend of hers...