Page 32 of Greased

Flee. Run.

Normally I would stand up for myself but right now, there's no way I could even begin to. Not without breaking down and falling apart at the seams.

They don’t deserve my tears. They never did and they never will again.

Once outside, I swing my leg over Rhodes' bike. I’m used to riding dirt bikes, but I don’t hesitate at all as I start the bike and shoot away from Pinks’ leaving behind Scarlett Smith and everything she was.

Istand rooted in place as I watch one of my best friends be a complete dick to my Star. Heartbreak and confusion are written all over her face. It breaks an integral part of me seeing him like that. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with him.

Even though I was in a state of shock after realising the Scarlett we met in Australia is the same Scarlett who has owned my heart my entire life, it was impossible to not notice the impact she has had on each of us. I don’t know what the fuck Dawson’s deal is but it's clear that this isn’t the same person that stood beside me not even half an hour ago. The man I thought I knew.

After Star’s performance ended, we all sat down at the table we accompanied and remained in silence. All of us are too stunned to speak.

Shit, my tears had barely dried when Rippy came over explaining she had a surprise for us. It wasn’t half obvious just who that surprisewas. I don’t think I have ever moved as quickly as I did when she came over. The anticipation of seeing my girl again.

After connecting the dots, I felt like a complete fucking idiot that I didn’t realise just who Scarlett was to me, back in Australia. It was near written on her fucking forehead in flashing lights. She told us all about her amnesia. Explained the scars covering her body. Fucking disgustingly ironic that her nickname is Scar. Yet, when she explained the accident to us, it was a car crash where she lost her brother and Dad. Our hearts all ached for her.

Clearly, it was a fabricated lie to ensure she never found out the truth. I understand their desperation in wanting to protect her better than anyone.

Losing Scarlett destroyed me. She was my light. My shining Star.

Even knee-high to a grasshopper, I followed her everywhere. She was my best friend. Sure, I had the guys but with Scarlett it was different. She saw me. Understood me. Supported me in a way that no one else ever has before. I was always the sensitive kid. She never held it against me. She cherished it, wise beyond her years.

I loved her before I knew what love really was. No one was ever able to amount to her. When the other guys started to show interest in other girls, I thought there was something wrong with me. I wasn’t interested in guys either. It was my imagination of a grown-up Scarlett that I imagined every time I thought about what I wanted.

What would she have looked like grown up?

What would her voice have sounded like?

Would she still be just as obsessed with Twilight as she was when she was younger? Would she still sing?

Her voice is like a fucking angel.

A part of me knew it was her the minute we pulled up out the front of Pinks’. Yet it only made sense when I finally saw her and heard that Paramore song spilling from her lips.

Life finally seemed to begin to make sense when I finally saw her again.

It always stunned me that she had the kind of power in her voice that she did when she was so young. Over the years, it's clear she was able to fine-tune it and control it even better.

The last ten years have been fucking hard. Nightmares have haunted me every single night since that day. The day I lost her.

I can hear myself screaming. Repeating ‘she’s gone.’ Over and over like a fucking broken record. The feeling of my heart being ripped out of my chest.

Being diagnosed with severe post-traumatic stress disorder at the young age of eight is no joke. Add that to also being diagnosed with depression and anxiety, it's been a fucking hoot. Depression has ruled my life for a long time. The black dog just never could fuck off.

My heart aches remembering the number of times when it all got a bit too much and the only thing stopping me from meeting my maker was the guys. If it wasn’t for them, I know I wouldn’t be here. I owe them my life.

The thing with depression and anxiety is it never just magically disappears. You learn coping mechanisms to help deal with the mess in your head. Medication dampens the feelings. Makes them just that little bit easier to survive. But they are never truly gone. Healing takes time and patience.

Music was a part of that healing for me. It was a language both Star and I understood and communicated through. When I found itagain, I was able to slowly pull myself out of the pit that threatened to consume me. Don’t get me wrong, I still have bad days. But now, they are much less frequent. The boys and Mom aren’t terrified that they will wake up each day and find me overdosed on pills or swinging from a fucking tree. That’s the one thing I regret the most. Even though it was mostly out of my control, the hurt I caused the people I love the most consumes me. While they were grieving the loss of Scarlett and Bonnie, they were also terrified for me.

I’m shaken out of my thoughts as Scarlett rips Rhodes’ keys out of his pocket and storms out of Pinks’ without a single care that she sat one of the bigger Bird’s members on his ass with her determination at getting the fuck out of here.

“Scarlett!” I yell as I take off after her. Before I get too far, a hand wraps around my wrist and pulls me back. I yank my arm out of their grasp and turn to the fuck wit trying to keep me from my girl.

“Dakes, just let her go. She’s not worth it.”

I see fucking red.

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