Page 49 of Only When We Fall
When Dad was drunk,
he’d lecture me on women,
said never let them get close enough to con you.
He said Mum hated us both.
So much, she wouldn’t even tell us where she went.
Maybe rejection,
or just the thought of it,
is why I always fuck up.
The silence that follows is heavier than anything I’ve ever felt. The words hang in the air like smoke after a fire. I can’t move. Because those aremywords. My texts. Messages I sent to Emmie when I cracked myself open and trusted her. And now, he’s read them out loud, here, in front of everyone.
Emmie turns to me, her eyes wide. “Kai, I –shit.”
I feel winded. “I—” I can’t finish.
Zara’s mouth is open, eyes flicking between me and Emmie.
I’m still stuck in my chair, pulse hammering in my ears, and Landon doesn’t walk away. He stays by the mic, steadying himself with one hand on the stand. He’s enjoying this. Feeding on the silence. Feeding on me.
“I should probably say,” he starts, glancing around the room like this is some casual open mic night and not a live grenade, “the inspiration for that poem was someone I really admire.”
No.
“I mean, he’s kind of a Uni celebrity,” Landon continues, gaze sliding straight to mine again. “You know the type, parties hard, never fails to get the girl, always acts like nothing touches him.”
People start glancing toward me now. I feel their eyes land on me, one by one.
“Turns out,” he says, tilting his head, “it’s all fake. A mask. You’d never guess it by looking at him, but deep down? He’s a scared little boy who never healed. Who thinks being loved makes him weak, yet he’s screaming out for the love of his parents. A lost boy. Fake.”
“Landon,” Emmie warns, voice low. She’s finally looking up.
He ignores her. “I found those words by accident,” he lies. “But when I read them, something clicked. I realised, people like that, people who act like they’re untouchable – they’re just hiding behind bullshit and bravado, using women as playthings to hide mummy issues.” He looks at me directly now, calm, almost smug. “So, thank you, Kai Banks. For your vulnerability. It was . . .inspiring.”
I’m not sure what breaks first, my pride, or my rage.
I shoot to my feet. My chair scrapes loud against the floor. “You done?” I ask, my voice sharper than I mean it to be.
Landon raises his hands like I’m overreacting. “It’s just art, mate. Relax.”
“Maybe whilst you’re up there, you can tell them why you have those bruises?”
He sniggers. “Is that a confession?” He looks around the room at the sea of silence. “I got jumped by four cowards,” he adds, shaking his head. “Pathetic really, but you seem to know a lot, Kai. Maybe we should ask Emmie?”
Just him saying her name infuriates me, and I clench my fists by my sides. Emmie stands quickly, her face unreadable. I can’t tell if she’s hurt or furious or both. “I need air,” she mutters, and then she’s moving through the crowd, toward the door.
I hesitate. Do I follow her? Do I rip Landon off that stage? Do I try to explain myself to a room full of strangers?
Landon steps down from the mic with a twisted sort of smirk. Not proud, more satisfied.
Like this was revenge.
Chapter Sixteen
