Page 145 of My Lovely Tragedy
All fucking night, I tossed and turned in my fuckingbed,unable to sleep because apparently, I’m used to sleeping on a fucking couch. There was too much room; it was too soft. Too comfortable. Too different.Too everything.
Not at all because I was alone.
Just… cold and alone.
A stretch of silence. The clank of a spoon. “Because…” Another pause. “You went through some shit. And you’ve been…” Dexter throws his arms up with a sigh. “I don’t know what you’ve been, but it hasn’t been someone entirely right in the head.”
“Jesus, Dex. A little subtlety would be nice.”
“I was. How else am I supposed to say it?” They start arguing, so I shove away from the table with a loud screech to search out Ben. I find him on the couch, phone still pressed to his ear. The fingers on his left hand dig into his temple, wrinkling the skin as he massages it.
Tobias used to do that too when his head would hurt.
I stop in my tracks, and my arm darts out to steady me. The thump of my palm hitting the wall reaches Ben, and he whirls around with wide eyes. I avoid his gaze as I suck in a few deep breaths, squeezing my eyes shut until I’m almost certain I’m not going to throw up the stomach bile inching up my throat.
Regaining my footing, I cross the room and sit on the coffee table. He looks at me, eyebrow arched in question. I mouth for him to mute it, so he does after putting it on speaker, magnifying Helena rambling on and on about shit I can’t even begin to understand right now.
“I can do the show,” I tell him. He pulls back, rolling his lips inward as his eyes flicker between both of mine.
Then, he reaches down and hits the end icon, cutting Helena off mid-sentence. “You actually want to? Or do you feel like you have to say that?”
I shrug. “Both, actually. But I am okay to do it.”
“B, It’s fine. We can pull out. We still have more than enough people playing?—”
“Yeah, with us and Shattered Lines promised as the main attraction. They’ll all be disappointed if we bow out. And it’s for a really good reason.” When he doesn’t say anything, I add, “You were going to anyway. Before I got back.”
He grimaces and looks away as he drags a hand through his hair. “Helena said it would be bad to cancel. And honestly, we weren’t even thinking about it. We haven’t been doing anything but thinking about you and trying to figure out what happened…” His sigh is loud as he glances up through damp lashes. “You just disappeared from the hotel, B.” He blinks rapidly against the water pooling across the surface of his eyes. “You were just gone.”
Guilt slices through my chest, dissecting the muscle in two. I fist my hands in my lap, perched on the edge of the sofa as Benji fuckingcries.It’s near-silent, only the occasionally soft sniffle but,hell,knowing it’s because of me hurts more than I thought possible.
I spent weeks selfishly thinking of only myself. Wallowing in self-pity and darkness, basking and fighting within the confines of Tobias’s chains. Soaring in the light of a newfound freedom. Drowning and loathing and accepting.Loving irrevocably.
I was seen—and I saw in return.
Through it all, I rarely thought of my family back home, so obviously torn apart by my shattering absence. Scrambling for a way to move on.
And the fans… I wince. I can’t even think about them. But if anyone deserves my honesty, it’s Ben. And Cobain and Dex.
My family.
“I was drunk.” He glares at me, and I force a half-hearted smirk. “Surprising, I know. But I don’t really have the kind of explanation you want, Ben. I was drunk and feeling fucking sorry for myself, so I left.”
“You justleft?” he bites out accusatory. My lips part to snap back at the first surge of indignation, but really, I don’t have the fucking right. Never really did.
“Yeah. I did—and in the middle of a blizzard, too. Just stumbled down so many roads. I remember…” I squint as I stare down at my hands, following the lines and cracks to where they disappear behind my sleeves—sleeves that hide so much more than they can ever know.
With a shaky inhale, I keep going. I just have to get it out, and then it’s over.
“I remember being so dizzy. The snow was blinding, flying in front of my face, sticking to the sweat pouring out of me. And it was cold. My teeth kept knocking together, and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking, but I wassweating.So fucking badly. And all I could think about was how much I hated myself, my life. All of you.” The last part comes out as a weak whisper as shame scorches through my chest.
I expect Benji to start yelling. To accuse and scream and berate me, but I’m met with silence. When I finally force my eyes up, I’m met with three pairs. Dexter and Cobain must have joined at some point during my explanation.
Awesome. Love that for me.But I suppose it’s only fair.
They all should hear what a piece of shit I am.
“You said you hated everything?” Cobain drawls. Not accusatory but inquisitive. I still flinch.
