WHATTHEFUCKEVER!

             ‘ it’s  all  bullshit. ’  he punctuates the statement with a drag of his cigarette ,  body leaned back hard against the cushions of the couch.    WHAT DID ANYTHING TRULY MATTER?    at this point trying seemed hopeless.  his life had been entirely turned on its head ,  he was grasping at the smoke of it’s burnt remnants.  he lifts the bottle of beer in his other hand  &  takes a health drink.  at least. . .   at least he wasn’t entirely alone in his spiral down.  she seemed not to mind ,  near equally agreed with his detest when he vented it off.  

             his leg begins to shake ,  knocks against her knee as it picks up  &  his scowl darkens over his features.  not even for a moment is he gifted with the opportunity of forgetting his  bullshit  either.  there’s always a giveaway that blossoms up ,  a sign that he is far from alright.  tell-tale.  he takes another drink ,  tipped back until it’s cleared.  he places the empty bottle upon the table ,  shifts his gaze to his side to catch his companion.  ‘ you just can’t trust shit people say.  it’s  never  fucking honest. ’

            he feels uncomfortable ,  the collar of his shirt itchy at his neck.  he fights the urge to fix it ,  fails  &  ends up tugging it free of the top button as they continue to walk up the path.   or  maybe the nerves have nothing to do with his choice of clothing ,  even if far more dressed up than he’d prefer.    perhaps it’s something far more frustrating.  the shadow of the building ahead briefly washes over them ,  eyes lifted up then dropped once more to the ground as they carry on.     he feels tense ,  unwelcome  &  unwanted.    IMAGINE IF PEOPLE COULD SEE HIM NOW !    they’d be in utter disbelief.  he ,  himself ,  nearly felt as if this entire experience was no more than a dream.  that he would wake up in bed ,  dazed but miles away from here.  his hands twitch ,  bottom lip brought between teeth.  he chews absently ,  the swell in his chest nearly suffocating.

                                                                                       you’re fine ,  man.  you’re cool.  just count to three. . . 

             he’s lost in his thoughts ,  barely registers the light touch of her hand at the sleeve of his jacket.  it takes the sound of her voice to break through ,  blue eyes shifted to meet her gaze.  for a moment he’s silent ,  struck silent by the way the sun halo’s over her hair  -  the way her eyes don’t see as deep set as they do in artificial light.  he pulls his arm back when her brow creases in wait.  he doesn’t want her to feel the tremor in his hands ,  doesn’t want her to be concerned with how he’s feeling.  he’d promised to do this after all.  he owed her that  &  more.

             ‘ yeah. ’  he stuffs his hands into his pockets ,  shoulders drawn forward just the slightest in discomfort.  he had promised but that doesn’t mean a small part of him wishes he hadn’t.  crowds ,  people en mass  -  it made him paranoid. . .  when as sober as he was.  treating church like he was prepping for a party though surely wasn’t on the list of acceptable shit to do.       he takes a deep breath ,  scoffs quietly as they arrive less than a few feet away from the entrance doors.     vaguely he wonders if he’ll burst into flames upon his first step inside.  if there was actually a god ,  he probably would.  his gaze turns back to kate as he stops walking all together.    he feels stupid for how he feels but it only increases in intensity as people pass them to enter ,  staring.   or so it seems like.  ‘ i need to smoke before i go in there. . . ’

        well. at this point, there’s no stopping. even though she is the one who kindly asked for him to stop contacting her, she still replies to him a few moments later. now, she doesn’t drop her phone, only holds it to her chest, curled up within the expanse of her bed, finger lingering over the LOCK / OFF button. it would be so easy to shove him away, so easy to try and forget this ever happened, to block his number or tell her father or anyone, for that matter. but - she doesn’t. she stays in bed, staring at the screen of her phone, a slight crease forming between her eyebrows at his words. 

they’re typed so sloppily - like he’s rushing to get it out before he backs down. she thinks she’s right - he’s probably drunk. this is a spur of the moment type of thing, he won’t remember it tomorrow or the next day. she isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or not. still, kate rubs a hand along her forehead - there is a slight ache there - before dragging it down the length of her face. her skin feels flushed, warm - as if she’s close to crying. and she is, it seems she’s always trying to hold tears at bay. 

she prays EVERY NIGHT. every night and she still receives no rest, no pause. ( it’s not fair ). kate releases a long breath from her nose, the stinging in her eyes comes back quickly at her train of thoughts, this time, tears escape, one by one, they cloud her vision, the heavier ones falling from the hair of her eyelashes, onto her blankets. 

        ( is she okay? ) she hears that question a lot. from everyone - her sisters, her parents, her friends, even max sometimes stares at her for a little too long. there is always this - this underlying sense of worry. ( is kate alright? is she eating okay? don’t say that around kate or she’ll – ) no. no she is not okay, even if she tries to convince everyone around that she is. she can’t help but vaguely wonder if nathan has that problem as well. 

[ TEXT ] i’m trying to be.  [ TEXT ] i want to be. so badly. 

she stops there. maybe she has said too much. out of all people, why confess this to NATHAN PRESCOTT? her fingers hesitate over the button, a light tremor going through her hands every few seconds. anxiously, she rolls onto her side, the tears have wet a few strands of her hair, it sticks to her cheek for a few seconds. kate feels heavy, so very heavy - all of the time, like some immovable force is holding her down, pinning her. it’s overwhelming sometimes, it’s hard to get up in the morning because of it - she’s always had to deal with it before, but after WHAT HAPPENED, it’s stronger, it’s relentless. 

sometimes, she wonders what would’ve happened if she just took the initiative, if she didn’t let max talk her down from the roof. if she would have some type of peace, no matter where she ended up.  swallowing, attempting to gather herself as much as she possibly can, she types, 

[ TEXT ] if i say i forgive you, will you stop? 

            he doesn’t blink until eyes burn  &  he’s no other choice but to do so.  the alcohol is heavy in his guts ,  hot.  it spreads through his body like a burning blaze but it’s not his savior tonight.  it isn’t numbing enough ,  still leaves the butterflies aflame in his stomach.  he stands ,  the bottle falling sideways off his lap  &  onto the floor ,  spilling.        of course.      because nothing in his fucking life could go right ,  nothing he did was ever without ruin.  he bends to grab it ,  downs what hasn’t escaped before throwing the bottle as hard as he can.  the thud  &  shatter of glass against the closest wall relieves some sort of tension ,  makes him calm enough to slow his breathing.   when had it gone so rapid in the first place?

             his phone lays forgotten on his bed ,  thoughts only on relief of some kind   -   & what a fucking idiot he was.  WHAT WAS HE HONESTLY EXPECTING?        he knew what he wanted of course ,  for the guilt he was feeling to finally be lifted as the burden it was from his shoulders.  but now. . .   it really couldn’t be this simple.  the gnawing at his heart was enough for him to know it.      he reaches his drawers in two big strides ,  hands clumsy to open them quick ,  force a little too hard as he jerks it from the dresser.  clothes fall to the floor with a curse ,  ire growing larger with each unfortunate mishap.  it really wasn’t his day ,  his year.    his life.    his vision is blurred ,  hands grabbing  &  pushing aside garments with frustration until the clear baggie he’d been looking for comes into view.

                                                                                                     &  more importantly the white pills inside.

             the sound of it snapping open brings a satisfaction he finds familiar ,  eyes cast briefly over his shoulder to where is phone still lays silent. . .  was she going to message him back at all?  IT’S FUCKED UP!  all of him ,  every last thing that goes on inside his head but it doesn’t mean. . .  it doesn’t mean being ignored hurts any less.  makes the reality that he may never get the chance to apologize properly more bitter.    he’s swift to turn his attention back to the task at hand.  an ease to the mistake he’d just made.  to the one he still wanted to make.  an sort of excuse for the reason he was so fucked up in the first place.

             his desk is another three steps away  &  he trips on the second ,  catches himself on the back of the chair with another curse as he pulls it out  &  sits.   it’s familiar work ,  crushing pills.  they're always messy ,  even more as the alcohol seeps further into his bloodstream ,  as his vision remains hazy no matter how many times he blinks.  this should help though ,  should bring him down    -    should put him under the seas.   out of this eternal conflict of misery :    of guilt.   of all the fucked up shit he’s done.           /          the sudden buzz of his phone causes his head to snap in it’s direction as though connected by a cord.

             . . .  was it really her?  it could only be. . .   as of late his phone stayed unusually silent.     after all that had happened.       he rises from his chair ,  crosses his room to his bed quicker than he’d ever admit.  his shin knocks hard into wood but it barely registers as he sits heavy upon his bed ,  vision blurred but still able to read the words across the bright screen with almost mocking ease.       &  HIS HEART SINKS FURTHER !      trying to be ok but not quite.  he can relate to that better than he’s ever let anyone in on.  it’d been so long since he’d last felt even akin to that he doesn’t remember what it’s like anymore.   but the subtle subtext is there.   he’s probably the reason that she isn’t ,  the cause of her strife    -   he feels nauseous again ,  acid climbing up the back of his throat.  

                                         his phone buzzes in his hand this time ,  nearly causes him to drop it in surprise.  

             this time the words bear claws  &  teeth that wound deep.  send him stumbling back to his desk ,  phone tight in hand.  he ignores the seat entirely ,  doesn’t bother checking to see if everything is fine white powder before he’s reaching for the straw hidden in his cup holder.       before he’s snorting as much as he can as it drips down the back of his throat  &  makes him gag until he’s forced to stop.      &  the rush is near instant ,  smacking him full force in the face as he steps back to regain what little of himself that he can.  he shakes his head ,  ears ringing though he isn’t sure if that had started before or after the pills.  he shakes his head twice  &  the world flickers.  first too bright then too dark.     he isn’t sure entirely how he finds his bed but when he does he falls flat on his back ,  chest rising  &  falling rapid once more.

             WHAT THE FUCK WAS HE SUPPOSED TO SAY TO HER?      was there anything that he even could that wouldn’t fuck this up further?  the voice in his head doesn’t sound entirely like him but it’s condescending ,  reminds him that he’d done this all to himself.      he was the reason ,  the cause.  because he was fucked up ,  because no matter what meds he took  &  what doctors he saw ,  he always would be the problem of it all.  the origin.  &  the only way to remove it was to take it from the roots.        /        his thumbs feel like weights as he tries to reply.  what he wants or not ,  the only good thing for him to do was give her what she wanted ,  right?

[ TEXT ]    sorry ryy kate [ TEXT ]    dont ddo any thin right