Rose #9//Lil Peep

#60: Pink to Purple

November 19th 2017

I stare into the pool and smell the same chlorine. The humidity of the vast room is also the same. To have an inside pool alongside the ocean— that sort of logic is Long Beach in a nutshell.

Maybe that's why Gus ran so far away. Speaking of which, his voice is haunting and I refuse to look towards the bleachers.

My eyes cannot control the tears and I'm convinced that I'm here just to hurt myself even more. Or am I trying to find him in the brightest of places? That's something I can't answer. The ring on my finger burns and I slid it back and forth. The puff under my eyes linger that I can say, recalling what I look like when I left the my mom's house this morning.

"You're so stupid." I whisper to the humid air— thinking back once more.

- -

- -

November 19th 2013

The world caved in.

That's all I knew after Gus said those words. I'm position on a plank in my swim gear, it's practice and the coach is ready to sound the whistle and I have no intent to move. My muscles are frozen, rusted by the reality pool I bathed in.

How could Gus love me?

"Go!" Coach Garner exclaims with such force before alarming a sound that I've known all my life. I stay put, staring into the water as everyone else plowed through it.

"Amelia!"

There was no reason to answer like there is no answer as to why Gus loved me.

"That's alright, just walk it off." Coach Garner adds. I'm unsure if he's being sarcastic or understanding, either way I continue to the bench and sit down. My eyes stay to the floor until I hear his voice from the bleachers.

Gus is leaning over, smiling with the same one from yesterday. The one I've seen since childhood-- it curves with such kindness and content. As if the world hasn't caved in— as if I'm currently swimming across the pool with a clear conscience. 

"Are you okay?" He questions with no intent to be mean or harsh. But then again his eyes are the same brown you've seen your entire life and he is clearly unaware of the hell he has put you through.

How is that? The image of Gus resides in me yet when he's currently there-- and I'm unsure of who he is? It didn't occur to me that he could be stranger. Or maybe I did? The euphoria has faded-- that I could tell. It's so haunting that I must look away, refusing to answer him but again he leeches, a parasite with a voice that wanted to sing for a living.

He reminded me a few nights ago, reminding us of the auditorium when we're young— kids, I mean.

"Amelia?"

I'm aware of the concern in his voice but I seal my eyes to the sight of my teammates swimming back in my direction. From my peripheral, I could see that he's still staring.

"Chris!"

I secretly wince at the haunting name.

"Chris!"

The nickname I could still hear him whisper across the table at Lindell— that's until he unexpectedly yells his lungs out.

"I love you Chris!"

My eyes widen, looking toward him. His smiling face and teasing expression— my cheeks immediately burn up or as if he ran a blade across them.

"Control your boyfriend Cambridge!" The coach yells with his arms folding in a disapproval— or annoyance.