The Color Series: Red

Red (Sonny)

Red symbolizes: passion, power, lust, anger, danger, love.

You can learn to live with blood on your hands. I know that, deep as I know anything. I just never wanted her to have to.

Blood and Brenda, Brenda and blood. Sometimes late at night, swear to god, I can feel her pumping through my veins. Thick and viscous, dark crimson heat running through my body -- never in my life have I felt anything else so sweet.

When I saw her, standing there in the church, her sweet lips curved in that smile I never thought I’d see again, that was the first thing I thought. How could I not have known? Her eyes gleamed and her lips, god her lips, formed my name. She’s in me; she is me. How could I ever have believed her dead?

Then it hit, and for a brief moment, I thought it was my heart exploding, a dull red pain in my chest, just from seein’ her breathing. As I fell, I remembered; this was why I came here, to do this. To die. I’d said, once, I’d die seeing her face. Turns out even in this twisted mirage, I was right.

“No, I'm staying with him. No, I'm going to stay with him! I'm going to stay with him! Let me -- let me! Please, let me go! Let me go!”

I heard her shouting, begging with guilt sharp in her voice, saw her face through slitted eyes, and it was all I could do to keep myself from reaching out for her. I wanted to take her in my arms and whisper, “It’s all gonna be okay, baby,” more than I wanted anything. ‘Cause when I saw the desperation on her face, through the red haze that was the back of my eyelids, I knew.

Knew like I hadn’t known when I left her standing at the altar, when she walked out of my penthouse with glitter and tears on her face, when she went over the cliff, or when I fell in love with Carly. I knew we were finally dead, finally -- like the lady said that last time -- over. ‘Cause now my blood was on her hands, and when she found out it had all been a hoax and that she wore my blood needlessly, she was never gonna forgive that.

There’s only so many times you can leave someone standing in the rain.


“I just wanted to protect him. No matter what happened. I---I always loved him.”

Leaning against the wall, I heard her breathing. I heard her shout out her defiance through the vent; I heard her say she’d always loved me. And, damn, suddenly all the rest of it didn’t matter. We were over, yeah. I’d killed us dead. And, I’d locked her up in a cage ... the one thing I knew she couldn’t live with, couldn’t handle.

But, it didn’t matter. I’d have done it all again, just to hear that. I always loved him. I closed my eyes, pressed my cheek against the wall. Lifted my hand and splayed the fingers against it. ...always loved him... I knew her hand was on the other side of the wall -- don’t know how, just knew. Her hand, with the small, soft palm, fingers long and tapered, ending in crimson-coated ovals, was so close to mine, pulse beating in her wrist. ...loved him...

It was worth it. No matter who’s blood was on whose hands.


I tried to explain it to Carly, later. My wife stood in front of me, needing me, loving me, asking me to trust her -- to trust in her. Her chin was tilted up, so brave, and I met her eyes, dark brown and terrified. And, the only thing I could think was that they were the wrong eyes, the wrong brown. I looked at her, but it wasn’t Carly I saw.

And, the only thing I could tell her was another woman’s story.

“Alcazar is desperate for her. He's obsessed with her.

((living flame in my arms as we dance, my hands smoothing the scarlet silk-covered curves of her body, and she’s music in my arms, she’s every song every written))

She's like a drug to him. He doesn't care if she hates him or loves him, as long as she's with him.

((gritty sand below, blood red Puerto Rican sunset above, her skin tasting of salt and passion, sweet and salty and mine))

He's making mistakes. He thinks about her all the time---Her safety, how she feels, How he can make her his and no one else's. And then when she's away from him all he cares about is getting her back.

((her body, red-hot against mine, legs wrapped around my waist as i back her into the garage wall, hard so hard and it’s wrong so wrong but nothing else was ever this right))

And sometimes he sees clearly. He knows he should walk away, because she could cost him everything. But he doesn't, because he -- he wants her so bad, she's become the center of his life. He can't get rid of her, even to save himself.

((anger pulsing through my veins, deeper than blood, darker than night and i’m shaking her the way deke shook adella ‘cause she betrayed me betrayed me betrayed me))

There are women who make you stronger, and then there are women who cut your heart out. And they may not even know they're doing it. They may be thinking that they're loving you.

((hands rising to cup my face, vermilion fingertips grazing lightly against my cheeks, and i’m gonna die if i have to wait one more minute to kiss her, and then her lips oh god, her lips))

And it's not their fault that they're more addictive than heroin. And even at their sweetest, they're the worst thing you could ever have.”

It’s a lie but not in any way Carly’d understand even if she knew what I was talking about. It’s also the truth. She’s so bad for me; when she’s near, when she’s breathing my same air, I can’t focus, and I can’t concentrate. All I see is colored by a red haze, and all I taste is vanilla and spice, fire and danger and Brenda. She makes me weak; she makes me ache; she makes me hers.

My wife stood in front of me, and even when she touched me, I could still feel borrowed pulsing in my veins. Blood and Brenda, Brenda and blood. She’s in mine, always will be.

No matter how many times I die, it’s always gonna be seeing her face.

Black (Carly)