rednexttoblack
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Trevor’s kneeling now, bellowing. He feels like a wild animal. ‘If you’re a good boy for Amanda does she rub your tummy? Does she let you bite her? Huh?’ Trevor feels as if he could bite someone right now. He imagines sinking his teeth into Michael’s leg, tasting his thick blood on his tongue.
‘Jesus Christ, you’re nuts! Get off the fuckin’ floor! Trevor! Trevor –’
‘No! No! Stop it, stop it, stop, don’t fuckin’ call me that!’
The words are out of his mouth in a hysterical scream before he can really process what they mean. They both pause for a second, Trevor still on the floor, panting, rocking.
Michael is still angry, but confused, now, too. ‘What?’ he asks.
Trevor doesn’t know how to respond. He doesn’t know ‘what’. He doesn’t know anything. He breathes in deeply, then exhales. ‘I said, don’t fuckin’ call me that.’
‘Call you what?’
‘Trevor.’
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Summary
'This isn’t a movie, Michael. And if it was, you sure as hell wouldn’t be the good guy.’