PLAY THE SAVIOR.

YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY HE HATES YOU SO MUCH.     you haven’t ever done anything to him,    not as far as you know.     you keep to yourself most of the time,     only speaking when it’s necessary,    uncomfortable around most people.    because of the way they look at you,    even if you’d never admit that aloud.     the way they look at you like you’re a freak,     like you’re a monster,    despite never doing anything monstrous.    you’d never hurt anyone,    even when you’ve been hurt by others your whole life.    just because you’re treated like a monster doesn’t mean you have to become one.     especially when people like maggie anderson exist,    proving to you that not everyone’s heart is cold.    that some people are able to see past the surface,    to ignore your disfigurement in order to see the person that lies beneath.      if only kevin could,    you don’t think he’d hate you.     you hope he wouldn’t.     but you don’t expect him to see past it anytime soon.     you don’t think he ever will.

the innocent act doesn’t fool you,     because you know kevin would sabotage your new job if given the chance.     maybe troy would be able to get the job back for you,    but there’s only so much he could do;     it would be easier if you never lost it in the first place,     if kevin showed even the slightest of mercy toward you for once.     “      what?      ”      there’s a sliver of jealousy that burns within you,     though it’s more of an ache than anything else.    a reminder that someone like you will never have a chance with someone like her,    even if you are sure you could treat her better than kevin.      but you’d never try to steal her from him;     for one thing,    she’s not something to be stolen in the first place.     who she’s with is up to her and her alone.     you wish you could make him see how lucky he is to be the one she wants,     to be the one she chooses to be with.     but you know that saying anything of the sort will only create more problems for you,    so you don’t.      “      that’s not what i ——       i didn’t even mention her.      i’m just…     just saying that i can help you out.      it’s not about her.     ”

PART OF YOU KNOWS IT’S NOT FAIR TO HATE HIM.    part of you knows it’s not fair for you to treat him this way.     but there’s another part of you,     a darker part of you,    that’s always reminding yourself that he wants what you already have,     what you could so easily LOSE because HE’S THE BETTER GUY.     and you can’t stand it   ----    because it’s not so easy to change who you are to be the person maggie needs.     to you,    it’s much easier just to destroy all obstacles instead.     you can pretend to be what she wants.    you can pretend to be the hero.    but you’re not  ----  it’s always been so much easier for you to hurt everyone else than admit to yourself that you’re not who you need to be.      it’s too easy to destroy everyone else around you with the way your friends seem to rely on your every word,     taking everything you say as the truth    (   and that’s why they all see HIM as a monster rather than you,    the one who really has the rotten soul between the both of you.    )     

‘        IT’S  JUST  A  QUESTION,      MAN.          thought maybe you shouldn’t be      alone,      after everything.        ’         the wording isn’t a lie,      but the implication is.          the idea that you’re saying this out of concern,      out of some      bleeding heart      sense of solidarity      —      you’re not.          you’re saying this because you don’t trust him.          because you know what he did,      and you know what he’s doing          (          you felt the punch of emphasis on each carefully chosen word,      my      friends,      not that      you      give a shit,      bet      you’re glad          ),      and you’re repulsed by it,      near to the point of physical illness.          all you have is your word against his,      and you don’t even have      that.

you almost said      fuck it      a hundred times,      almost told someone      —      the police,      maybe,      or      maggie,      just so she’d      know,      just so she wouldn’t have even a      passing thought      that brandon james  was anything less than innocent,      even if there was no      proof      —      but you didn’t.          like you didn’t      beat      brandon and never      defended him,      either.         this is the routine,      behavior ingrained as deep as your marrow  :      do nothing,      say nothing.          risk nothing.          so,      you kept your head down.          you kept your mouth shut,      and you let them die.          you let him kill them all,      one by one.          all except      her,      and      you,      and that’s your consolation prize  :      that’s what you’re left with.          you’re alive.          selfish,      afraid,      undeserving,      angry      —      alive.

his performance is solid,      you’ll give him that  ;      a role he’s slipped into with ease,      just like      slipping on a mask.          survivor.          martyr.          (          —          murderer,      liar,      everyone should know what he is,      you shouldn’t have to keep      carrying this with you.          )          you look at him,      steadily.          not warm,      not cold,      not much of anything at all.          a      blank wall      is your only option,      your only bulwark.          ‘        why would you even think that   ?          why the      fuck   …        ’          careful.          keep it level,      keep it toneless.          ‘        …   would you think i’d be      glad   ?        ’

YOU’VE HEARD ENOUGH OF THOSE LATELY.      questions about what was going through your head when you were trying to hide from brandon,    questions about brandon himself and what you knew about him,     questions about what it’s like to survive all of this,    questions about how it is to go on living while your friends died and you survived.     and none of them you can answer truthfully,    just with that faked sense of grief you wear so well.      you’re tired of being questioned,    because you’re tired of having to put on a show for everyone    (   you better get used to it   ----   this is the fate you’ve created for yourself.   )         ❝   i’m fine,   ❞       you mutter,     but his words spark some kind of warmth in your chest,     because even if you’re the one who took the lives of your innocent friends,     they’re still gone.     you really are alone,    except for her,    and she’s leaving too.      maybe it’s best for you to play nice with him;     maybe friendship won’t leave you so far gone,    even if you’re already past the point of no return. 

❝    i mean   ---- -    ❞        a pause,    eyes avoiding his.       ❝   don’t know how to be anything else right now.     no one’ll leave me alone.  ❞         AND THERE’S GLORY IN IT,    because everyone wants to know what you’re going through.     everyone loves the story of a hero who survived a tragedy,    and you knew that from the start.     you knew you’d get this praise,    this appreciation,    and you knew you would eat it all up.      you love it,    you do,     because no one is trying to point fingers at you    (   not when you’re the one who has bled.   )      but you pretend to be annoyed anyway,    act as if you’re exhausted from the attention and feeling so invaded by the media,    even if you love seeing your face everywhere NEXT TO HIS,     the very opposite way it should be.     ❝  just wish they’d let me fucking deal with it alone.   ❞      they.    the media,   their peers  ----   not him.     even though you don’t want him around,     you can invite him around anyway.     there’s safety in that,    as much as it bothers you. 

❝  have you talked to maggie?    is she okay?   ❞       the concern is real,   the expression of worry across his features not at all feigned.    it’s everything else he’s playing pretend.      the stab wound hidden under his hospital gown isn’t a work of brandon james;    it’s a work of his own,   planned maliciously in order to make himself look like the perfect victim    (  the only one who was STRONG ENOUGH to make it out alive.     there’s glory in that.   )      ❝   he was after her all night.     my friends,     we were just trying to protect her.   ❞       a pause,     eyes dropping as he looks up at him.     ❝  ----  what about them?     did they  .  .  .       survive?     they did,   right? ❞      feigned hope,    because he knows the answer:     they’re all dead    (    and it’s all because of you.   )    

❝   maggie probably does.   ❞        and you keep looking for ways to convince her that she does,      convince her that what’s happening to her isn’t something she likes.      but it’s not really up to you,      and if she finds that brandon isn’t the obsessive,    annoying,    freakish monster you’re trying to make him out to be,      then you can’t really do much about it at all.        you know that,     but still you try.      and you keep trying,     and you keep trying,     your mind constantly looking for ways to paint him as the villain you so badly need him to be.       because if everyone sees what you see,      then he’s no longer in your way.      your friends,    they believe you.      they treat him like the garbage you tell him he is,      and they have your back.      

but it’s not really them you’re worried about   -----   IT’S HER.       

you’ve never done well with threats,      quick to be defensive even when nothing’s really happening.      brandon isn’t trying to steal her from you,     he isn’t trying to get in your way,     but your mind has convinced you of it anyway.       you can’t stand the idea of maggie being with anyone else,     and even if you know brandon isn’t the guy she would be with at all,     you have to do something to make sure that never happens.     everyone already sees him as a freak,    a monster,    a bad guy   ----    but she doesn’t.

because she always sees the GOOD in people.     even the worst kind of people,     she looks at them and expects to find something that balances out their bad traits       (     and maybe that’s why she loves you.       you know you’re not a GOOD GUY.       you know you’re rotten and angry.      but she sees something good in you,       so you make sure she never stops seeing it.    )        you will continue to convince your friends that maggie’s just being nice;     that she’s too naive to believe that brandon really is trying to hurt her,     because the more you convince them of that,     the more people you have on your side.      the more people you have on your side,     the easier it is to show maggie. 

❝   c’mon,    you know how she is,     always trying to be nice to everyone.       someone’s gotta tell her she doesn’t have to do that to everyone.   ❞        but you’ve already told her best friend that,      tried to get HER to show maggie that brandon wasn’t worth her time because it might mean more coming from her instead.         ❝     dude’s a creep.    she has to know that too,      she’s just too scared to admit it,      doesn’t want to hurt his feelings.     ❞         you scoff,     because that’s never been your concern.         ❝     but she shouldn’t give a shit what he thinks.        if she’s getting freaked out by him stalking her,       we have to do something about it.   ❞

WE,     because otherwise,      you’re just the jealous boyfriend who feels threatened    (     and even if that’s exactly what you are,       she can’t see it that way too.    )         you’ve always had such good influence on everyone else around you,     you know how easy this can be,    but there are still people you know you can’t force to do anything.     LENNON  ----   he has never been too close to you.     he doesn’t listen,    doesn’t back you up,     and you resent him for it.     perhaps you have no other reason to hold any bitterness towards him but that,      that he doesn’t WORSHIP YOU like the rest of your friends seem to do.       someday,     you intend to change his mind about that   ----   right now,     using maggie against him seems like the easiest option. 

❝   you really want her to torture herself like this?       ‘cause i care.       i’m tired of watching her try to do the right thing and only get hurt in the end.       i’m going to do something about brandon,     and you should help  if you give a shit at all.   ❞  

❝   he’s been staring at that stupid rock all day.   ❞      you scoff,   but eyes never look back at the boy in question.     you don’t need to look now,    not when you’ve spent the last twenty minutes stealing glances and trying to figure him out for yourself.    everything you do is always fueled by your jealousy,    that hatred you feel for the boy who you know is so close to trying to take away the one thing that really matters to you    (    that one thing you know may just be better to destroy yourself rather than let anyone else do it for you.       you won’t let brandon win.     you can’t make it that easy.    )  

❝  he’s carving some shit into it.      i don’t know who the hell gave him a knife,   but i wouldn’t get within thirty feet of him.      he’ll probably snap any second.   ❞      OR MAYBE THAT’S YOU,    maybe you’re the one who can’t stop thinking about that knife,    wondering what kind of damage you could do with it.     and not just the physical kind   ----    the mental kind.     how easy would it be for you to twist EVERYONE’S views about the boy sitting across the room?      you’ve already started it.     your friends,    they all think he’s a monster because you’ve convinced them of it.     someday,     she will see it too.     maybe you just need that knife first;    maybe it’s the tool you’re missing.   

your mind can’t go there,   not right now.    brandon is doing nothing but minding his own business,   yet it still gets under your skin  ----   and maybe that’s part of it.    HE’S DONE NOTHING WRONG,   yet you resent him for it,   because you know what a cruel guy you can be.    you know how ROTTEN you’ve become from all the jealousy,   the competition,    this misplaced anger.      finally,   you set your pen down,    head tilting to look up at brandon as eyes roll.    ❝  probably something for maggie.   ❞       words are much calmer for what you’re insisting,     but you won’t give yourself away.     ❝  the freak is obsessed with her or something.  ❞      the more he can engrain that in other people’s mind,    the more they will BELIEVE HIM,    and the more they will suspect that something’s off with him    (    but what will they say about the jealous boyfriend who can’t seem to let it go?   )     

❝   whatever.    doesn’t bother me.  ❞       luckily  you’re good at faking an expression of apathy and nonchalance,    but your words don’t do the same.      ❝   just hope he gets the hint soon and fucks off.     maggie’s way too nice to tell him that herself.   ❞ 

your body jolts at his sudden presence,    fear gripping your heart in a tight fist,     an obvious unease settling over disfigured features.    you’d take loneliness over this;    the isolation,     you could handle,    having grown used to it,     all but one treating you as an outcast.      you can’t get hurt if you’re alone,     but he can hurt you.     you know he’s not opposed to the idea,   either,    for reasons you can’t comprehend.     you’ve never done anything with maggie behind his back,     respecting her relationship,    even when you feel she deserves so much better.     someone that doesn’t treat her as an object,     something to simply possess rather than love.    but you figure there’s a reason she’s with him;    maybe she sees something in him that others don’t.     maybe you’re just not looking hard enough.

but it’s hard to look any deeper into kevin duval,    especially when he treats you like this.

heart sinks at his question,     already knowing where he’s going before he even continues.     you don’t have much,     other than daisy.      there’s only your job,     something you thought you’d never obtain,     afraid that all employers would accuse you of scaring away customers.     is he really cruel enough to take that from you?     “     yeah,   i…    work there.      ”     answer comes hesitantly,     body growing tense in his company,    shoulders slumping in an attempt to make yourself smaller,    shrink away from him.      “      don’t ——     please don’t.     i can get you a discount.     you and your friends.      but i can only do that if…     if i have the job.     ”

that look in his eyes gives you power.      it reminds you that you’re in charge,    that you’re the dominant one here.    every bit of insecurity of yours that stems from him doesn’t matter in the moment,    because he fears you.      you’ve give him no reason not to   ——    constant glares in the hall,    going out of your way to try to TRIP HIM,    making crude comments whenever you see him walking towards maggie.     you won’t ever let him catch a break,    always trying to prove to him that there will be consequences to his  ‘  obsession  ‘ with your girlfriend.     maybe someday you’ll find a bigger way to make him pay.      it’s not his fault,   you try to tell yourself  ——   he’s not REALLY making any moves,    he’s not acting maliciously to you,     but it’s the idea that he might that makes you so guarded.    you have to protect what’s yours,   even if your ways are twisted.   it’s easier to push him out before he can do anything than have to deal with the consequences if he does later.