“Basically. I liked it at first. But then I got claustrophobic. He left me ti—he ignored me when I told him I was going to have a panic attack. He didn’t think I was being honest. So I wouldn’t let him do that anymore, and then I got curious and followed him one night and realized every word he said was a lie.”
“How did you even meet him?”
“He followed me down an alley one night when I was wandering around alone.”
“Iris.” I couldn’t hide my displeasure.
“I know, but remember I wanted to do anything to not feel. I was doing a lot worse things to my body, and I wouldn’t have cared if I died.”
The admission was like a knife to my heart because I knew it was partly my fault.
Last Winter
“Where have you been?” My heart broke at the circles under his eyes and his already gaunt frame; he was thinner than I’d ever seen him.
Iris shrugged, lighting a cigarette. “Doesn’t matter. We have time off.”
“Are you seeing someone?” I whispered, not knowing if I wanted the truth.
“It’s not your fucking business what I do.”Bruises trailed down his neck. These weren’t hickies or tiny abrasions; they were perfect fingertips, trailed down his throat and arms. In fact, every inch of Iris not covered by clothes bore them. Ivory flesh dotted and blurred with purple and green. The closer I looked, the more I saw.
“You’re covered in marks. You don’t see that as a problem?” Was he doing it to himself? Was he letting someone else? Were there track marks to go with them?
“And?”
“How are you going to go on stage like that?” I wanted to ask him what Alexander would say, but he wouldn’t care about that. Our fans would ask questions, though.
“What do you want, Cas? Alexander isn’t putting out our fucking album. So I can do what I want.” His eyes were dead, and the emotion that usually bled through all his words was vacant. I’d never seen him this bad. Not even on a binge and at his lowest.
“Are you okay?” I resisted the urge to reach out.
“I’m fine.” He pulled back, almost like he could sense my desire to reach for him. “I need to go. I have plans for Christmas.”
“Do you need help? Who’s doing this to you?”
Color came to his cheeks, and he dropped his gaze to his bare feet. “It’s none of your business.”
“Iris, I used to be your best friend.” This time, I reached for him.
He pulled back, coiling into himself. “Used to be.”
“Will you talk to me?”
“About?” His words were defensive.
“I’m worried about you.”
He scoffed. “Noted.”
What could I do? Try to argue against a grown man making his own choices? Like anyone would even listen to me as the jaded ex. “Do you think—” I cut myself off, not sure how I wanted to word what I had to say. “Do you think it’s a good idea to leave when no one knows where you are?” I didn’t know how else to word it.
Iris laughed at me, and it was almost cruel. “Of course I want to spend my time off missing. No one can force me to do anything I don’t want to.”
“Can I call you later?”
“I turned my phone off so Alexander would stop calling me.”
“I’ll come there, get a hotel in town. We can talk like we’d started to at the studio.” I didn’t know how to give him another option to get a hold of me. “Text me with your new number, and I’ll be here if you need anything.”