The slap creates a sharp spasm to echo through the recess of my head and my body aches throb dully as I try to keep from hurling up whatever might be left in my stomach—not that I can remember what I last ate, or even when.
“You’re a pathetic excuse of the Phoenix you once were.” Dexter’s face finally comes into view as my brain starts to register the words he’s saying. “Thank god Ainsley’s gone and doesn’t have to see what you’ve become.” And that’s when I realize, I’m not fucking crazy or delusional. I do hear Ainsley, only she’s not the one yelling at me.
Coming from somewhere outside of my room is a repetitive loop of our cover ofInvisibleby Hunter Hayes from when we were thirteen or fourteen years old. It was one of our anthems when she felt down about getting bullied. That and Alessia Cara’sScars to Your Beautiful—amongst a few others.
I understood more than the other guys what she dealt with since I was the other least popular of our small circle. This is no doubt some sort of ploy to snap me out of my misery. Why they all the sudden give a fuck when they haven’t bothered for years is beyond me. Anyway, it’s not going to work, it’s only serving to make me miss her more.
I miss the way she laughed. I miss the way she smelled. I miss the way her small stature carried so much of a presence that she lit up any room she walked into. There’s not a person alive that didn’t love her, envy her, or feel drawn to her in some way. It’s why she was always targeted so hard in school. The girls wanted to be her and the guys were always pissed that they couldn’t have her. She was ours.
I miss the sound of her voice so much that hearing it now cracks my heart open even further, pieces of the remnants falling apart without a care that they’re all I have left to keep me alive. It reminds me of when we were little and Ainsley went through aBeauty and The Beastobsession. My heart is like that mystical rose. With each fallen piece I fall prey to the curse of becoming a monster who only lives that of loneliness and a lifetime of empty solitude. Or maybe I won’t survive it at all.
“Fuck you, man. You don’t know shit.” I belatedly argue, hating how broken I sound. Knowing that he’ll misread the delay in my response as something drug related instead of me getting lost to the endless loop of thoughts involving the woman I love and hate in equal measure.
Except I don’t hate her. Not really. My love for her is so big it eclipses everything else. What I hate is that I’m living this life without her.
“Bro, you’re sprawled out on the floor next to a stockpile of drugs, half empty bottles of what looks like some nasty liquor, and… is that vomit? Also dude… your dick is out,” he deadpans. “Worse yet, you’ve got dried up blood and jizz all over yourself.” He shakes his head in disappointment or frustration, I don’t know. Maybe both. Likely both.
“So the fuck what!” I yell, my patience gone entirely. All that’s left is bone deep exhausting and some nasty hangover symptoms I’m trying to avoid thinking about. “Why should I care? No one else does,” I remark, finally lowering my voice back to none migraine inducing levels. I realize that I sound like a petulant child, but fuck if it doesn’t feel like it’s true.
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” he growls in response. The vehemence behind his words is surprising if I’m being honest. “I care,” he argues, hitting his chest for emphasis. “I fucking care, man, and it’s shitty of you to put me through this.”
Dexter isn’t one to shy away from his emotions. He wears them proudly on his sleeve for all to see. His face being so naturally expressive and honest is normally my favorite thing about him. He can’t lie for shit and with that, he’s the most genuine human being I know. Right now though, I can’t cope. The look on his face is pure fear and agony of what I’ve become and it tears into me, all the way to the core of my being.
That mixed with Ainsley’s melodic cries telling me that I’m not invisible are enough to break me. In an instant, I want to die. How peaceful it might be to finally end it all—to be free.
“I can’t exist to make you happy, Dex. I can’t pretend that I’m okay when it’s the furthest thing from the truth. You might be able to pretend you’re fine and dandy but I can’t.I can’t.” My voice breaks on the last word and a small sob escapes me. “She left without a fucking word. I needed her and she left, and then I lost all of you too. You can’t even deny that you withdrew into yourself after she left and you abandoned me just as much as she did. You knew I’d be all alone and you did it anyway. All of you did.”
“I won’t lie and say things have been easy these past years. And yeah, there’s a lot of things I’d go back and do differently. One of those things being keeping us all together instead of letting us fall apart, but we were kids, man. I can’t go back and change things, but I can fix it now. We’re old enough to take responsibility for ourselves and stop letting the past dictate our every move.”
“Says the guy who’s never been discarded a day in his life.”
“She left me too, so miss me with that bullshit,” he scoffs indignantly. He doesn’t pull it off though. I can see the scars she left on him clear as day. He’s still hurting too.
“You know what I mean, Dex. You still have people to pick you up when you’re down. Even me, believe it or not. But this last year, I can barely get a single one of you to answer a text, let alone a call. God forbid we see each other.”
“We’re all here now, Nix. We got your message in the group chat and we showed up to help. We see you, brother and we’re here for you, but you have to actually want our help.”
“What message?” My eyebrows scrunch together in confusion as I try to piece together the missing information. I don’t remember sending them anything. I must have been really out of it after that girl left.
“This one,” he says sadly, offering me his phone. I can’t help the laughter that escapes when I see our names in the chat, but it quickly dies on my lips when I see what the messages say.
Nix-i-licious:I can’t do this anymore. Six years without her is six years too many. I’m done. I love you all and I wish we’d had more time together these last years, but it’s clear that her leaving broke you all as much as it did me. Obviously in ways that can’t be fixed since we all lost each other instead of finding strength as one unit like we always have in the past. This is my goodbye to you. I hope you know that you four are the best thing to ever happen to me outside of my love for the girl who took my heart with her when she left. Thank you for everything you’ve given me over the years. Bye fuckers.
Cy-baybee:I’m coming. Don’t do anything crazy you asshole!
Sir-Rebs-a-lot:Fuck you, Phoenix. You’re not taking the coward’s way out. Be there soon.
DoubleDLacey:God damn it, Nix. Please be okay until we get there. You hear me? You’d better be fucking ALIVE when we get there.
Ezee-E:*Cannot Be Delivered.
I exhale sharply, confused as to how I could do something so hurtful to the only people who’ve ever truly loved me in my entire life. One of the worst things about narcotics is the delusions you can fall into and not even realize it’s happening. I mean, amongst the really terrible side effects, like the damage it causes your brain and whatnot—I’m not totally ignorant.
The problem is that I can’t seem to escape the potency in which I live in this all-consuming pain, but I didn’t need to drag them into it like that. The drugs and alcohol made their play there. If it were me with a clear head, I’d have written them letters to receive after I was already gone. It would still hurt but there’d be finality to it. This must have been terrible to live through, even for a short time.
And what’s going on with Ezra’s phone? Did it get shut off or something?
“It’s been six years to the day.” My voice is hoarse, like I’ve smoked a pack a day for the last twenty years.
