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The Beautiful Ones	By : TaimaMarie Category: Individual Celebrities > Criss Angel Views: 1682 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the celebrity I am writing about. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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AN: Ero, I heard them first on Conan O’Brien and fell in love. They came to my state and did a show but I don’t drive, so I couldn’t go. Lame, right? It was a school night anyway, I think. I guess you can’t REALLY blame Warner Bros. I mean… Well… You sort of can. It’s irritating, but with good reason. Can we say that?
I *love* scarves in my hair. I love bright red lipstick, but I can’t pull it off very well. I’m incredibly sun sensitive, so I’m very-very-very pale. The red lipstick doesn’t look good on me. It looks like crayon.  Not the look I’m going for.
Haha, I said to keep on trucking in my English class and everyone looked at me a bit funny. They all think I’m a fruit cake anyway, and they aren’t wrong, so I suppose I can’t much say anything.
As for my break---I could enjoy it more. There’s a chance of some *big* trouble. I’m writing to try and calm myself down. Ero, by any chance, would you be interested in reading any of my original fictions? If not, that’s totally hip. They suck anyway.
Okay, guys, there should only be ONE more chapter of this! Also, this chapter is named after the song And So It Goes by Billy Joel. (Never expected to like him, but he is pretty kick ass when I’m stressed. Billy Joel and Sarah McLachlan are good so soothe my panic.)

Criss woke up with a splitting headache, his mouth tasting disgustingly like an ashtray and cotton balls. He groaned as he sat up, pressing his palm to his forehead. What had he gotten into last night?

Suddenly everything came rushing back. He gulped against the bile rising in his throat as he tried to stand up on wobbly legs. Cassandra wearing that white dress, Cassandra asking him to dance, Cassandra leaving with someone else.

Oh God, he had really blown it, hadn’t he? He had really done it this time. She was the best thing that ever happened to him, and he had thrown her away.

“I didn’t want her to go off and leave me for someone else.” He whispered into his bedroom. “I just wanted her to suffer a little. I wanted her to hurt the way I did. I wanted her to know what it felt like.”

Of course, there was no telling about any of that now. There was no way of knowing what that other man had told her, how he had made her feel. Did he tell her that everything was okay? Had he whispered into her ear that he would take care of her?

“Cass, Cass, please come home.” Criss stood up and made his way to the bathroom. A hot shower would be just the thing to take the edge of his hang over so he could get to his mother’s and find her.

**

“She isn’t here, Christopher.” Dimitra said softly when her son knocked on the door. He stood there on her porch for a moment, not able to speak.

“But where else would she go?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t tell me. She came in last night, took her clothes, wrote me a note saying thank you, and then she was gone.”

“Gone? She’s just gone?” he hardly dared to believe it. Dimitra nodded slowly.

“I’m so sorry, Christopher.” She said softly.

“I just wanted to apologize, Mom. I just wanted to tell her that I was sorry, that I never should have treated her the way I did. I wanted to tell her that I need her, that I love her, and that I want her to come home. Mom! This isn’t fair.” He was crying, tears sliding down his face the way that they had every night since she was gone. He angrily knuckled them away.

“Nothing in life is fair, Christopher. I thought you knew that. You’re facing the consequences for your actions, and so is she. She’s paying for lying to you the way she did, and you’re paying for treating her the way you did.”

“Mom, I just want her to back. Doesn’t it count for anything that I know I was wrong? Doesn’t that mean anything?” he felt frantic.

“Did it count for anything that she knew she was wrong for lying to you and tried to tell you that?” it was breaking her heart that her son’s heart was breaking. But this was a lesson he was going to have to learn.

“I love her.”

“Christopher, I hate to tell you this, but I think it might be too late for loving her to be enough.” She shook her head slowly.

“Do you have any idea where I could find her? Don’t you know anything?” Criss’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding frantically in his chest.

“You might try that hotel suite you got her. I thought I heard someone this morning talking about a key, but I might have been dreaming. That’s all I know.” Dimitra kissed her son on the cheek. He turned and hurried towards the car.

***

Gotta find her, gotta find her, gotta find her. The mantra thrummed through his body as he weaved in and out of the Las Vegas traffic. He has to find her, has to make all of this better. He has to tell her that he was wrong. For reasons that he can’t quite put into words, Criss feels like time is running out.

Something is going to happen if he doesn’t get to her, doesn’t speak all the words he’s been hiding. Something is going to happen if he loses her, something he doesn’t think that he can stand.

This Majestic Hotel is everything the Luxor is, just on the other side of town. When he had blindly picked it, all Criss had cared about was distance. He wanted Cassandra as far away from him as he could possibly have gotten her. Now the hotel loomed before him, a chrome and glass house of hell.

Criss ran inside. He had an extra key to the place on his keychain. He had planned on giving it to Leigh so she could go to the girl if it was needed. The elevator seemed slow and ancient, creaking its age as it lifted the illusionist up to Cassandra’s floor.

When he burst into the room, he wasn’t met with the scent of her. He was instead knocked by the smell of a hotel. The smell of vacuumed carpets and Glade. He looked around.

“Cass? Cass, are you in here?”

“What do you want from me, Criss?” she was wearing only a bath towel wrapped around her chest, her hair wet and clinging to her face and scalp.
“Don’t you think you’ve hurt me enough?”

“I just wanted to ask you if you would come home.” He almost choked on the words, seeing her standing there in front of him like that. She was so real, so human. He wanted to reach out and touch her, feel her against him just one more time. If nothing else, he just wanted to assure himself that she had existed once.

“No. No,” she shook her head, droplets of water flying. “I won’t. I can’t. Nothing—nothing changed, Criss. Everything that you said I did wrong, I did do to you. I’m—I’m not staying in Vegas. I’m leaving.”

“So you’re going to run again?” he crossed his arms. “Aren’t you tired of running yet, Cassandra?”

“It’s easy for you, isn’t it?” she shot back. “It’s easy for you to decide who does what wrong. It’s easy for you to sit here and say that if I did this, that, and the other thing differently, my life would be better. But you’re not me, Criss. You can’t know why I did these things.”

“So why don’t you try telling me?” he let his arms fall. “Just try me.”

“Because I DID try, and you still couldn’t hear me. You didn’t want to. You want your life to be that neat, easy little package you’ve formed in your mind. I’m not like that, Criss. I don’t fit into your little world.”

She was right. She didn’t fit into his world.

She was his world.

Criss could not say anything. He could only watch her standing there, beautiful in all her glorious anger, clutching at that towel that was threatening to slide down her damp skin. He just watched her, memorizing the rise and fall of her chest as she inhaled and exhaled.

“Fine.” He turned to walk out.

“Wait! Criss!” She hurried over to her bed and picked up Stanley. She crossed the room with the purple bunny, holding him out like an offering. Criss could only stare for a moment before taking the stuffy toy.

“Stanley?”

“I think… That maybe you need him.” She turned away and headed towards her bathroom. It was obvious that the conversation was over. The illusionist stood still for a few more minutes, hearing the blow dryer turn on.

He left the room, closing the door behind himself as he clutched the stuffed bunny. It smelled strongly of Cassandra, and as he stood on the elevator, he buried his face in the purple fur and inhaled deeply.

****

As soon as she heard the soft click of the closing door, Cassandra turned off the blow dryer. She bowed her head over the sink and let her tears fall. Even the air around her seemed to hurt.

“What have I done? What have I done?” she moaned. She wanted him to come back and get her. She wanted him to come and say that she could come home. She wanted him to come and get her.

But she had turned him down. Why? What exactly had gone wrong? What was it that he had said or not said to make her decide that she couldn’t be with him? It was the fact that he hadn’t apologized. The way he talked, it was like he was allowing her to come back, like he was doing her a favor.

And maybe Criss was. He probably was. But that didn’t forgive the fact that he hadn’t been perfectly right either. Neither of them had been.

“I just can’t do this.” She told the sink. “I can’t stay in this town anymore. I thought that I could. I thought this was going to fix it. I thought this was all going to make it better. I thought that leaving that town, leaving those people would fix me. But they were never the problem. I’m still the problem, and I’m always going to be the problem.”

With a hand that was aching and tired, she picked up the blow dryer again. She turned it on and let the heat numb her as she passed it over her hair. She didn’t want to feel anything anymore. She just wanted this all to be over.
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The Beautiful Ones