by Skylar Heart
When suddenly the front door opens and two sets of footsteps come inside. There are no voices, just footsteps, which gives me a bad feeling. Then one set of footsteps stomps up the stairs, before a door is slammed shut.
My heart is beating fast as I turn around, confused. What’s going on?
I find Dylan in the doorway to the kitchen, his eyes troubled as he looks at me and they darken when he looks at Jake. Oh, crap. That’s not good. Not a good sign.
I quickly get up, standing between Jake and Dylan, not looking forward to a repeat of last Friday, even though this time would be for a totally different reason. “Dylan...”
He shakes his head, his shoulders sagging. “I’m not going to hurt him. I wouldn’t... I don’t do that.”
Another stupid mistake I made, ruining even more lives. After all the things I said about Dylan and Mal being in love with each other, and having said how much I wanted them to be together, last night is probably pretty high on my ‘worst mistakes of my life’ list, with me ruining everything for them. I fucked up. Again. I totally fucked up. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
“That’s not...” He finally looks up again, meeting my eyes and they’re so sad, so full of darkness. “It’s my own fault. I should have done something, or said something. I didn’t, and that’s on me. I don’t blame him, or you, or Jake. I’m just... I guess I’m just trying to get used to the idea of the three of you being together.” Fuck. Just the way his voice falters slightly as he says the last words breaks my heart.
“No.” I step closer. I want to tell him that I don’t want to lose him, ever. That I want him just as much as I want Mal or Jake. That what we did last night doesn’t mean much more than all three of us needing to blow off steam, not that I made a promise to anyone. “I didn’t... I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
He looks up, his eyes softer, sadder somehow. “You never mean for anything to happen. And it still happens. That’s reality. Reality is knowing when people no longer need you and when they move on. Reality is recognizing when that happens so that you can go your own ways with dignity.” He turns around. “I’m sorry. I won’t be eating here tonight. Have a good dinner.” And he walks back out of the house, his steps even, so at odds with his sloped shoulders, but he looks broken.
He didn’t even take his jacket off. He just came in here, and then left again.
My heart hurts. I want to run after him, beg him to come back, but it’s like all my energy has left me, and I can’t move anymore.
Everything is falling apart. Everything is breaking. I’m losing them. I’m losing all of them. I’m ruining everything, and that’s all my own fault. I’m the one who ruins things, I’m the one who breaks everything.
It’s my fault, no matter what they keep saying. I know that it is...
After Dylan left, Mal came downstairs and said that he was going to stay with the rest of the band for a couple of nights. He said that it was because they needed more hours to practice for their gig this weekend, but I don’t believe him, not with that look in his eyes. Not when he was about to start crying and he wouldn’t let us get near him. He left, taking everything that he had with him, not leaving anything behind, like he was never here.
And then Tom came home, with Elly at his side. Elly didn’t act any different, just her happy self as she showed off a picture she made of the house with all six of us next to it. That must have been a fun conversation with her grandparents.
But it seems that Mal told Tom some of what happened last night. Tom said that he didn’t blame anyone, that we’re all old enough to make our own choices, but I could still feel him judge me, just from the pained look in his eyes. He’s still upset with me, for messing up Mal and Dylan, for messing up what we had going on last weekend. I did things that hurt everyone, and now I need to take responsibility for it.
They’re right to be angry with me, all of them are.
Dinner was awkward, though Elly’s chatting made it a little easier. But after dinner, Tom soon left, with Elly at his side. He said that he had to do a couple of things at home, but he was obviously just fleeing the bad mood here.
Which left just Jake and me, again, awkward.
I wish I could just not hurt people, even for a couple of days. That would be a miracle. It would be a miracle for there to be days where people don’t get angry with me because I keep doing things wrong. Like that will ever happen...
“Mia?” Jake puts his hand over mine, squeezing a little. We’re still sitting at the kitchen table, not having moved away yet, the dirty pots and plates in front of us. “Do you want to go watch something on TV? Or maybe read a little?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think I can. I think I’m going to bed.” At least if I’m in bed, I can’t hurt anyone else. I can’t hurt anyone when I’m all alone.
“Okay. Try to get some rest. I’ll be up in a while. I’m just going to clean this up and then maybe read a little.” He keeps his voice soft, comforting, but I shake my head.
“I think... I think it’s better if you sleep downstairs. That you’re not with me.” No matter how much I would like him to be with me, I just can’t do it right now.
“Why?” When I glance his way, he looks so confused, and pained. “What did I do wrong? Did I upset you?”
“You? No. It’s just... It’s not safe around me. I won’t want to...” I get up. Not even able to explain it to him. “Just, no. Sorry.”
How would he ever understand that I can’t be around him because I’ll break him more? That I don’t want to hurt him more? That it’s better if he doesn’t get too close, because I will just ruin everything, all over again. I’ll break him more, like I broke Dylan, like I broke Mal, like I broke Tom. Like I broke Poppy.
Everything went wrong because I got involved with them. It’s better if I stop trying, if I stop trying to change anything. Because it’s better if I just stay on my own, if I don’t let anyone come close again...
8
Dylan
It’s been two days since I left Mal at Mia’s place and even though Tom, Mal and Mia have sent me messages, I’ve been avoiding them most of the time, only replying when I really had to. I’m trying to figure out how I’m supposed to move on from this point, how my life even makes sense anymore.
When Mal told me that he’d had sex with Jake and Mia at the same time, I just... I knew that I couldn’t do anything anymore. I knew that my chance with him was over. I knew that I’d been a coward before and that I should have done something, told Mal about my feelings, when I had the chance. But I didn’t, so I’ll have to live with that now, I’ll have to put them out of my mind and find my own life again.
But, as I’m sitting at the table at home, I know that I can’t keep avoiding them. Especially not now I’ve got the next two days off because of the anniversary of Poppy’s death. I always do that, take the days off, because I’m normally trying to take care of Mal during those days, trying to support my friends and not fall apart myself. But now I don’t even have that to distract me. Mal isn’t mine anymore, and he’s not here...
So I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing. How am I going to get through the next days when I don’t have anyone to take care of? When I’m all on my own?
Loud pounding on the door drags me from my thoughts, it’s almost like someone is trying to break through it. “Dylan! Open up!” My heart does a double beat. That’s Mal! What’s he doing here?
I get up, quickly going over to the door because I don’t want him to cause a scene, don’t want to deal with that right now. When I open the door I’m greeted by the stench of cheap beer, and Mal isn’t exactly steady on his feet. Oh, fuck. No. No, no, no. Hell.
“Dylan!” He pushes past me, into the house and stops in the middle of the room, glaring at me. “You can start laughing now. You were right all along. You can tell me ‘I told you so’, go ahead. The band cancelled the gig this weekend over a stupid argument. They told me that they want to take a break, that t
hey don’t think I’m taking the band seriously. Poof. My life. Gone.” He crashes onto the couch, digging into his bag and pulling out another can of beer.
Nope. No way. Not here.
I rush over to him, grabbing the can and pour the contents down the drain.
Of course, he shows up here. Drunk. With even more booze on him. At my place. Mine. I can’t be around alcohol, especially not right now.
“Are you kidding me? Why did you do that?” He tries to get off the couch, but apparently decides against it, his movements uncontrolled. “Why did you have to do that? That’s all I had left.”
“Me?!” I glare at him. “You are bringing alcohol into my house. You know that’s not okay. What the hell, dude?”
His eyes open wide with shock, some sanity returning to his gaze and he lets out a gasp. Then he seriously gets up, actually managing it this time. “Fuck. I’m sorry. Fuck. I should go. I should...”
He stumbles to the door but I stop him, alarmed by his response. How upset must he have been to not only get stupid drunk, which he doesn’t do, but to then show up here? To show up at my place, when he was the one who implemented the ‘no alcohol around Dylan’ rule. Mal and Tom take it so seriously that Tom never even has any alcohol in the house, and they never complain about it or anything, they do it for me, because they care.
How bad must it be in his head that he didn’t even realise that he was here? That he forgot about a rule he put in place himself?
“Mal?” I keep my hand on his chest, his heart is beating fast under my palm, and I try to get him to look at me, to get through to him.
“I’m such a fuckup.” His voice is softer now, filled with tears. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come here. You’re right.” He puts his hand over mine, holding on tight for a moment. “I just... I was here before I even realised it. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I’ll leave.”
“No. Stay.” I can’t have him wandering outside when he’s this drunk. It’s not safe and I can’t let anything bad happen to him. “Sleep it off. Then you can go.” He tries to object, but closes his mouth when he meets my eyes. Yeah, I thought so too.
I walk over to the couch, grabbing some things so Mal can sleep on it, then I get a bucket so he can puke if he needs to.
When I come back from the bathroom, he’s standing in the kitchen, leaning with his back against the counter, a glass of water in his hand, and the look in his eyes is so broken that I don’t know how to react. I put the bucket by the couch, and he starts talking as I’ve got my back to him.
“I’m sorry about last weekend. I’m sorry about messing everything up.” I turn back to him and he takes another sip of the water. He looks less drunk right now, but that’s probably more the shock than anything else, because he’s definitely got enough alcohol in his system to keep him buzzed for a good number of hours.
“Why did you do it?” I’m not sure if I want to know his answer, but at the same time, I’ve been asking myself the same question over and over. Why did he do it? “Why did you sleep with them?”
It’s not like we’ve ever been exclusive. We’ve been having fun with other people all the time, though, I don’t know how much ‘playing around’ either of us has been doing in the last year. I’ve... It’s been a while since I used hooking up apps, let’s put it that way. Only, this wasn’t sex with a random person in a bar or whatever, this was Mia. We both know that Mia is different, that it’s never ‘just sex’ when it’s Mia.
He closes his eyes, then downs the last water from the glass before putting it on the counter and he sits at the table, taking a deep breath. “It looked like a fun idea. I thought that if I had one chance before she left, I should take it. I didn’t want to miss out on it. It happened. We didn’t plan on it.” He lets out a humourless laugh before he clears his throat. “We didn’t even have condoms with us and my strapon was still here. Not much happened. Just... hands, mouth. That’s all. Not even anything more than any of us have done with her when we were teens.” I’m not sure if he sounds disappointed or not, he mostly sounds sad.
I sit down at the table too, looking at him more carefully. “And then?”
“Then... Not much. We fell asleep together, like we’ve done for the last week. When we woke up, Jake was already making breakfast and we had breakfast.” His words are coming faster now, slurring a little in places. “Then Tom picked me up to drop me off at the station and he got annoyed with me when he found out. And then I was a hell during practice with the band.” Words coming faster and faster, his voice rising. “And then you picked me up and... Well, that happened. And then I went back to the band and I was a hell to the band all week. Until they told me that they were quitting.” He suddenly stops, like turning the tap off, and he looks down at his hands. His breathing is hard and he’s squeezing his hands together so hard that his knuckles are all white.
“I was hurt when you turned me down. You’ve never done that before.” If we’re going to be honest with each other... “I didn’t know how to deal with that.”
He shakes his head slowly, his shoulders sagging. “I’ve turned you down many times. You just don’t remember, because it never mattered.”
He’s right, it didn’t really matter before. “You turned me down and then had sex with them. That hurt. A lot.”
“I know. I know how that feels.” His voice is sharp, like a knife stabbing at my most vulnerable place, my heart. But when he looks at me, I’m no longer looking at the big guitarist who is sitting here at the table, but in his eyes, I see the little boy from years ago. “I’m sorry for the mess. I’m sorry that... I was scared. I was desperate.”
Desperate? “Why?”
“Tom had Poppy. You were married. And Mia and Jake... They’re perfect together.” He lets out a pained sound. “I’ve always been alone. I thought that if I could get one chance with Mia, I had to take it. And Jake... He... He seemed to understand and he didn’t... He didn’t make me feel like I was just a replacement for someone else. Like I was just convenient. He saw me and he accepted me.”
“You were never... never a replacement.” I have to force my voice out, too surprised. It hurts to even consider that he thinks that I only chose him because he was convenient. “I always...”
He slowly shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter what you meant, it always felt like that. It felt like that if you found someone again, a girl or boy you could love, fully, this would all be over. I didn’t want to wait for that anymore. I don’t want to feel like I just exist for other people when I’m convenient. I wanted... I wanted to be wanted.”
I grab his hands, tears in my eyes. He’s breaking my heart, shattering it into a million pieces. “I always want you. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel otherwise. I’ve always wanted you. I always want to be with you.” A sound escapes me, not a sob, but a squeak, almost like fear, terror.
I have no idea how I can ever make this better, because I’ve been hurting him, even when I thought I was protecting our friendship, I was hurting him so badly. Me trying to keep things casual by insisting that we’re ‘friends with benefits’ because I didn’t want to lose him by insisting on more, is what’s been hurting him the most. I’ve been losing him because I was too scared to lose him.
Mal looks up, meeting my eyes, his gaze steady. “I can’t give her up. Now she’s back, I can’t give her up. I can’t. I’m sorry. I love her. I love her and I love you. But--” He swallows hard, then he jumps to his feet, going over to the sink and he retches a couple of times, making me feel a little sick myself. When nothing comes, he fills another glass with water and downs it, before turning to me. “I never realised how she felt. I thought I knew, but I was so wrong. I finally understand why she said what she said, why she was in so much pain when she said it.”
I’m definitely confused now, but it doesn’t seem like he’s going to say much more as he shakes his head and stumbles over to the couch, dropping himself on it.
“I’m sorry. Thank you for letting
me crash here. I’ll be gone again in the morning. I’m really sorry about everything.” He closes his eyes, but I know he’s not sleeping yet. I’ve seen him sleep often enough to know when he’s faking and when he’s being real.
But I also don’t know if I want to continue this conversation right now. The things he’s said, the things he didn’t say. I kind of need to think about it on my own before I talk to him more. Because I had no idea about what he was going through, how he felt. He’s way too good at being the ‘joker’ and hiding his real feelings, but that doesn’t mean he’s not hurting inside.
It doesn’t matter how many times other people have told me that Mal loves me or how much I love him, he’s never actually told me himself. He never actually said ‘I love you’ to me, and now... Now he’s finally said the words, it feels like those words are a ‘goodbye’ more than a ‘welcome home’.
I have a bad feeling in my stomach. I’ve seen him in pain before, but this seems different than any other time, and it scares me. So, instead of going to my bed, I sit down against the side of the couch. That way he can’t get up without waking me up and disappear on me.
I can’t lose him. I can’t let him go. I can’t. Because I love him too much for that.
And I love Mia. He’s right about one thing, with Mia back, everything has changed, and I don’t want to let her go either. I love them both.
9
Mal
I’m such an asshole. I can’t believe I went to Dylan’s place, while I was drunk and while I still had booze on me. Why did I not stop myself? Think it over? Realise I’m doing something really really stupid?
I’m cursed with not having much impulse control when I’m drunk, but then also remembering what I did once I’m sober... Or, at least, remember most of it. Which... Yeah... Right now... Bad. Because I said things I shouldn’t have said to Dylan, things I never meant to tell him.
