The Butterfly and The Moth

39

Colt's hand landed on the small of my back as he led me away from the gas station.

I didn't question him, or question where we were going. I was just trying to calm my mind. I was trying to will my body not to turn around, not to run away from Colt and end back up at the gas station so I could grab the bottle of gin and comfort myself.

I knew the gin would make my loud mind quiet. I knew it would let the worry go, the anxiety go, the pain. Even if it was just for an hour, or two or maybe even three, depending on how long I drank. It didn't matter. I wanted that calm. I needed it.

Colt, still not saying anything, led me away from the Main Street of town, and through a beautiful, tree-lined street. The houses became more and more impressive as we continued. I couldn't help but stare in awe at the grand, manicured lawns and the stunning architecture of the homes.

It reminded me of the houses in Daisy's neighborhood. And again, the contrast between this world and the one I had been living in was striking.

This was where butterflies were born. And apparently, where moths came to die.

We finally arrived at a large house that looked like something out of a magazine. It looked familiar, like I had been here before. But even so, it still left me in awe. My eyes widened as Colt gestured for me to follow him inside.

"This is your house?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You've been here before. Don't you remember?"

I stilled, the memories of his party coming back to me slowly. It felt like a life time ago, but in reality, it was only mere days. I could barely remember what happened that night, besides the memories of me and Sterling.

Those memories were loud and bright and I don't think they could ever be erased. That was the night where Sterling found out. And, I realized, it was the night where he made his decision.

It was the night where he chose a moth over his fellow butterflies.

"Come on, let's go inside," Colt told me, his hand finally leaving my back.

As we entered the house, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. It was clear that Colt came from a wealthy family, and I found myself wondering why someone with so much privilege would choose to work at a gas station.

"Colt," I began hesitantly, "why do you work at the gas station if your family is... well, like this?"

He let out a soft laugh, his eyes filled with understanding. "My parents own 72 gas stations across the state. But... as they continue to tell me, money is meaningless without the hard work that comes from earning it."

His features changed into a look of annoyance, like he wholeheartedly disagreed with the premise. "They want me to learn responsibility and understand the value of hard work, or whatever, so they make me work at the one in Sapphire Cove. It was the first one they ever bought. I think they might love that store more than they love me."

I nodded, taking in his words as we settled down on a plush sofa in the living room. Despite the lavish surroundings, I still felt a knot of anxiety in my chest, and I could tell that Colt sensed my unease.

"Dolly, you don't have to tell me what's wrong, but I want you to know that you can trust me. Whatever it is, I bet I can understand. I've been there, using alcohol to numb my existence." Colt told me, and I remembered his words from the first night we met.

Don't worry, my eyes are kinda dead, too.

I looked down at my hands, the weight of my secret pressing down on me. I felt ashamed, knowing that he could see through me so clearly. He looked at me like he understood. But, I didn't like that. If Colt understood my pain, it must mean that he's in pain, too.