Comforter

Outlet

I went to speak to Billie the next day but he wouldn't answer the door. I wandered through town to get some food and ran into Mike. I tried to pretend I hadn't seen him but he snagged my arm as hurried past.

"Hey, Tré, I need a word with you."

"What?" I sighed. "If this is about Billie then I don't want to hear it."

"It is but I'm not gonna have a go, I just wanted to talk about it. I wanted to know what was going on... not that it's any of my business, but I think you should know that what you're doing isn't right... fair enough if you weren't married, but you can't go behind Sara's back like this..."

"I've told her." I said, feeling numb.

"You've told her?" His eyes widened with surprise, "so... this is serious then?"

"Yeah... I guess it is."

"Well then..." Mike shuffled his feet uncomfortably, "you know where I am if you want to talk don't you?"

"Of course. Thanks, Mikey, it means a lot." I smiled weakly and carried on towards the shop. He moved aside to let me pass before walking away.

I bought Billie a chocolate bar along with a Coke and returned to the hotel to find him.
He was just walking in the hallway as I got to our floor and he froze for a moment when he saw me before carrying on walking to his room.
"Bill, I need to talk to you" I jogged over to him and he stopped and sighed at me.

"Look, Tré... this isn't gonna work out is it? I know what I said to you about how I felt but I'll get over you... and you'll probably be able to get over it better than I will so you'll be okay... I think we should just forget about all this and just get on with our lives like it never happened and try and move on."

I was taken back and my brows furrowed, staring at him and feeling like I had just been stabbed in the stomach. "What?"

"Come on, you don't really want this... do you? You didn't to start with so it'll be easy for you." His voice was droning and his eyes were dull-I could tell he didn't mean it, but hearing him say it still hurt like a bitch.

"So... you don't want me anymore?"

He sighed in frustration, "why are you turning this around on me? Stop making me out to be the bad guy here! I made it pretty clear that I wanted you and you're not willing to sacrifice anything to try and make it work... what's the point when you're so selfish that you won't even give it a chance?"

I stared sadly at him. He had no idea what I'd given up for him... The way he had spoken to me made me furious and I didn't even want to tell him that I'd told Sara about us...
"So... that's it?"

He shrugged, "what am I supposed to do? I can't force you can I? And even if we did cut our losses and make a go of it, what would that do to the band? You can't honestly tell me that this isn't gonna be fucking difficult? I've done a lot of thinking and I just... I love you, Tré, but I don't know how it would ever work. It's probably for the best anyway..."

I didn't say anything more. I couldn't. I felt sick.

Without giving Billie a second glance I turned and went to my room where I shut myself in the bathroom and let myself slide down the cool wood of the door. The Coke and chocolate slipped from my hands and the can rolled across the floor. I watched it hit the side of the toilet and stared at it. How had this happened? I didn't even like Billie in the same way he liked me when this all started, and now I felt like tearing holes in my skin to let out the pain that was being caused by him rejecting me... How? I felt a painful lump rise in my throat and my eyes filled with fire, but no tears came so I just sat and stared at the sink opposite me. After a few minutes I put my face in my palms and tried to force myself to cry-I had to have some outlet-but I couldn't. I stood and looked around for something to hurt myself with and found a small pair of nail scissors in a cabinet. They were pathetic but ended in in a sharp point so would do.

I wanted to cry... I needed to let it out...

I angled the scissors so that they were pointing down against my arm and pressed down firmly until the point pierced the skin. It didn't hurt as much as I was expecting and I pulled the metal out of my arm. There was a little resistance and I studied the dot of blood that was swelling from the hole that was left. I did the same a few more times before realising that I needed a new tactic. It wasn't painful enough...

I put the blade back to the skin-flat-on my arm and pressed down. It didn't break the surface, so I pressed harder and dragged it down and towards my hand. There was an acute sting-almost a pinch-like a paper cut and I hissed at it. That wasn't really the sort of pain that would make me cry either... but it felt good... I continued down the length of my arm, letting the tiny blade slice through my flesh a little way and gritting my teeth. I don't know how long I was cutting myself with the small scissors for but it wasn't until I stopped that I realised I'd have to cover it up...
I frowned down at the blood; there wasn't as much as there could have been... the wounds weren't that deep. They would heel after a few weeks and probably wouldn't even leave noticeable scars. That was the way to do it...
I shook my head at the thought. What am I doing? I'd never self harmed before and here I am cutting myself with something completely unsuitable, and what's worse is that I'm thinking of the best way to do it and hide the scars... what had Billie done to me?

I washed my arm and wrapped it in a towel before going to bed. I'd had enough of today.