the one who had it all

——— without hesitation, he rose a brow. after asking ‘what’s going on’, she responds with that. his fist remained at his chin and his body remained slouched. “ well, that’s boring. ” she looked like she was barely twenty, as if she had problems worth keeping inside. their conversation over iced coffee and croissants was enough to make Everett assume the best of the kid sitting in front of him.

“ song mira. you call me at nine in the morning for coffee, and you give me that? ” he couldn’t help but give her a sly smirk out of slight annoyance. “ then why’d you call me? i could be asleep. ” blunt, Everett is nothing short of it.

——— He looked at her with only the slightest bit of curiosity. She hadn’t been at the bar for very long, neither did she look very familiar to Everett. People that come here have a purpose, she didn’t seem to have a whim about her setting. People come either knowing that Wonderland was the center of illegal trade, or as a reputable low-brow bar — never both.

“ Why shouldn’t I? ” His eyes scanned her, as if to look for something to set off suspicion. “ You come into a bar and you don’t want a drink. I consider that something to be interested in. ” 

〈 ◦ ◦ ◦ 〉

it’s heavy, and it’s late, and nyx is tired, but that doesn’t mean she decreases the speed of her fast-paced walking. her haste shouldn’t exist, it’s not like he told her he was dying, but it does, and there’s nothing she can do about it except get to where she needs to be. she contemplates dropping the instrument off at her parent’s apartment first, but that’s a detour that’ll only make her journey longer. so she keeps it with her, positioned or perhaps practically resting on her back, looking as if it could crush her at any moment, and especially if she was to collapse with it still in her hold. it takes thirty minutes to reach him, she’s almost positive by such a time he’d already given up hope, the thought of seeing her. when he’s finally within her view, there’s a sense of ease that surges through her veins. there’s nothing out of the ordinary that she notes down, but looks don’t mean anything. she has to get him to talk to guarantee that he’s really, truly okay.

all she’s able to infer currently is that he seems tired. but so does she. her bass is set down a couple feet in front of the couch, the weight being lifted off a complete relief. nyx doesn’t hesitate to sit down… right on his stomach. similar to how a little kitten would, for instance. she doesn’t like being concerned for anyone. but he’s not like the rest. if it’s not obvious enough, apologies are rare. but one is on the tip of her tongue when just how long she took to get there sinks in. she wants to blame it on her bass for slowing her down, but, truth be told, even without it there wouldn’t have been much of a difference. so she saves the justification for another time, when it’s actually needed. ❝ i left band practice for you. so are you going to tell me what happened to make today so bad? ❞ ah.. just wait till the effects of the drugs he took that she has no clue about kick in. the regret could start building real fast.

NEVER mind the dilated pupils or the chills that crawled on his skin despite the rise in temperature. It’s euphoric, the hellish Garden of Eden that’s playing in his head. Like an old cassette, the static of his own history puts him at ease.

He doesn’t want to think about any of it.

His feet hang over the end of the couch, one arm pillows his own head and the other is uselessly slung over the side. Knuckles graze unclean carpet, just as his tongue had a sensual moment with plastic — it simply results in Everett pleasantly losing his shit. GOOD GOD he fucking loves this feeling. The restlessness and the slight panic, it has him on edge and he can’t help but feel like the psychopaths that everyone yearns to avoid.

It’s sudden, but it’s subtle.

He notes that he can even smell her (you know, how people have scents? how fucking weird is that) when she passes by him. The familiarity reaches all senses, from seeing short hair brush past her neck to feeling her weight on his middle. Her voice is nothing short of what it means, she knows something is going on.

Let’s play a game, white rabbit. 

Everett’s gaze was hardly dull or blank, rather — it was full of intuition that he needed rid of. He saw too much, he was thinking too fast; once he propped himself up on his elbows he had a cheshire grin pull at the corners of his mouth. Intoxicated in this fucked up trance, the white rabbit suddenly felt the urge to reach up with his pointer finger and touch her cheek. As if to measure distance, he’s quietly shocked at the lack of distance since he thought she was further away. 

Pale skin, it turned pink at his touch before returning to its previous state.

Strange. 

“ I’ve been thinking a lot, ” Careful now, little rabbit. Your words are slurring and your eyes are widening. “ — about how bad it could get. You know? ”

Everett spoke of his mind, he wondered endlessly about how dark it could go without losing its sense of light. To feel so lost without wondering what destination to find, he wanted to wander with wonder. Now, of all people, Nyx was the one that’d probably be able to figure out that he wanted to trip in the dark. He wanted to see where he could fall, after hitting rock bottom people tell him that the only way is back up (fuck cliche’s though, he wants sadistic originality).

A chuckle leaked out of him, he suddenly imagined that he were in the complete dark. Nyx happened to be there for visual effect, but he saw himself deteriorate before her. Take this literally, hallucinations are meant to be interpreted. His skin began to burn and his smile disappeared too quickly when he realized where this was going. 

He pushed her off before falling to the floor and letting out a horrified bellow.

There was harshness in the contact, because a part of him thought she’d catch whatever he has. When she moved closer, Everett did what he could to stay away from her. He panicked when he backed away from her touch or her gaze, while doing so he rammed his head into the corner of the coffee table. “ S-Stay away from me. ” He scrambled to what he assumed was safety : his warm back now infested with chills as it was flush against the cold wall, his legs stretched out and his hands limp in his lap. 

“ Don’t touch me — you’ll start too... ” Everett murmured, like a little boy terrified of another catching his cold. He looked down at his hands and found that they weren’t melting and falling to the curse of gravity. He couldn’t see his bones or his muscles, he only saw ragged callouses on long fingers and hardened palms. He put them to his face, hiding it and hoping he’d see the dark.

Wet, his palms felt wet and is throat felt dry. If his heart could beat any faster, he was sure to be dead.

Six feet and two inches of man sat alone by the wall, scared to death of his own becoming. A poison so powerful that it could deteriorate all things in him that remained humane. Everert, Everett, Everett you fucking white rabbit, prey to a beast so foul that it would shake him to his core. 

“ I wish I were dead. ” Everett’s voice was a low grumble and it was muffled by his hands. But somehow, he felt like it was the first honest truth he had said in a long while. He had thought about it before, the potentials of how easy it would be to just end himself. 

Why have someone else do it?

He shouldn’t have called her, he thought to himself. Three clear naked plastic squares sat on the table, innocent to their taker and never bothering to tell him that there was such a thing as too much. Too much to handle, too much to swallow, too much numbness, too much for his tongue, for his heart, too much for Nyx.

Poor Nyx, what did he put her through? 

Everett looked up in panic and in hope that she was really here, that she wouldn’t leave like that.

Don’t you dare tell him it’s a bad idea.

He was convinced that he was a fucking genius, decided that this was the best idea he’s had yet. Even when he deliberately looked for her name and pressed his thumb into the puzzle of vowels, not really thinking about dragging bringing Nyx down with him. He needed something to replace the lows, the goddamn d r a g g i n g — it was endless. Like someone had a hook pierced through his achilles heel, reeling him in over beds of rock.

Scrapes and bruises were nothing compared to the initial prick. Forget the final jab, there was something about not expecting how this shit would hurt feel so good bad. 

“ Oi, ” The cigarette leaves his lips and hangs between two tender knuckles. “ — I’m having a bad day. ” That was a slight lie.

Everett’s mood was damp, he couldn’t stop smiling because he felt so foul. The turn of his voice, the way his head leaned back against the wall to keep himself from looking at it. A small piece of translucent paper with a dot of LSD, something he hasn’t done in a while. And who else was there to look over him other than himself?

There was no such thing as ‘another half of Everett’, he was already whole. But a duplicate? 

Logical.

“ Come over. ” 

Ten minutes later, he thought it took her too long. The taste was bitter and slick, it left his tongue feeling — no, not numb — just dull. His head felt heavier than light, but lighter than dense. When his body craved some kind of comfort he dragged himself to the couch, laying down and letting out his forced fit of laughter.

Would she come in time? What would he do if she never came at all? She cares, right?

Everett became a creature of worry and disease, unsure of what to do while acting so sickly and meek. A pure victim to his own playful thoughts. His busted lip had calloused into a small scab, bruises were somewhat  hidden by a  stretched out black long sleeve and ripped jeans. A chain hung from his belt loop, an anchor to remind him to stay put, stay safe, stay sane.

          Being nocturnal, there was a particular way Everett spent his daylight. After sleeping ‘till noon on a work day. He often remained in bed after getting his blood flowing, eating something, and then showering. From there, he made his way to the internet and honestly just let himself fuck around. He’s learned a few lessons from the technologically advanced ( hackers, they’re obnoxiously good at this shit ) and got around to staying off the radar. 

But sometimes, he couldn’t help it.