I used to ask myself what more I could have done to help Scott. What I should have done was get someone else to help him, someone who really could. I should have gotten him support, like Alex did for me.
Does Alex know? "Need you," I text him. He's out, probably running errands. I was away a long time because Felicia let me stay well past the end of my appointment. She always leaves extra time for first visits.
She somehow managed to convince me that not seeing Scott's depression for what it was doesn't make me a terrible person. I still feel like one, though. I never understood or acknowledged the full extent of what he had to deal with. I thought he was giving up, when in reality he was probably struggling harder than ever and still slipping. I don't even know how to begin to apologize. I keep remembering things I thought and said and realizing how insensitive and hurtful they were. I'm terrified I'm just going to make it even worse if I talk to him. I need to make sure he's being taken care of, but maybe I need to go through his parents or someone else. I don't think I can help him.
I open Twitter on my laptop and search for tweets posted by @scomiche22 in 2019. That was the January we decided it was over. We released our last video in February. We held our last concert in May. I started acting the following Monday. What did he post at the beginning of the year? When did it start?
> That was a good last episode. I'm gonna miss Superfruit.
> You know you're too busy when you turn down a Chipotle invitation.
> Do you ever feel like just not trying anymore?
> Google search: how to not be a spoiled annoying wet blanket.
> Google search: how to not be a failure, how to get your life together, how to sleep for a thousand years
Ptxpress, bless her beautiful soul, asks him what's wrong at one point.
> Alphabetically or chronologically?
• Rant away. I'm here. 💛
> You're sweet. It's all just first world problems, though. I lost my scholarship bc I didn't work enough. I have to drop out.
He worked as hard as any of us. In high school, he got straight A's, did choir and theater, played piano competitively, and tried out for American Idol occasionally. He only got more intense later, adding Superfruit to his schedule, writing and arranging songs, networking, practicing, touring, and planning. He did everything in his power to make Pentatonix last. Kevin was the same. He's insane. He doesn't know the meaning of the word "relax." Kirstie was chill for a while, but then she made a website and a blog, started collaborating, and launched a product line, not to mention the furballs. Avi started A Cappella Academy and then Project Samson. That leaves me, the lazy one. I wasn't just lazy, I was incompetent. I fell straight out of high school and into Pentatonix, and I knew it was amazing, but it was more work than I had ever done before. I thought that because I was putting in fifty to sixty hour weeks, I was doing more than enough. It took me a long time to realize I could contribute more than just my voice. I never did start a side project, though. Maybe I could have kept us more relevant if I had just invested some of my free time right. I'm not making that mistake anymore. I have an hour a day to myself, and the rest belongs to holding onto the good things in my life, to work and to Alex. If I fail again, at least it won't be because I didn't push my limits. Scott, though, has always lived like that. He's always thrown himself into his work. For a long time, he barely even slept because he was making our last EP everything it could be.
> I'm letting down my family. I'm losing my BF too, to my hot smart funny gorgeous BFF.
These are from almost a year before I started dating Alex. He was off-limits, and I never did anything to pull him from Scott. Alex never gave me any reason to think he was into me. I wanted them to be happy together.
> She deserves a perfect man, but why does it have to be my perfect boyfriend? I'm so selfish.
I don't know how to process this. I'm the BFF, right? Sometimes when someone's interested in you, you know, but you deny it until you look back much later. I didn't know, though. Alex was faithful to Scott. He never said or did anything up make me think he would even glance at me twice. Was I truly oblivious, or did Alex only admire me behind my back?
My phone rings, and I actually check the caller ID this time. "Hi Alex."
"Hey. How was therapy? Is Dr. White any good?"
"She's fantastic. Thanks for finding her. Are you coming home?"
"I'll be there soon, I just... What's up? You texted."
"Yeah. We need, um, I want to talk about Scott." He's silent. I wish he were here, but I know how traffic can be, and he's probably busy. "I think, I mean, I'm pretty sure... Do you think he had, or maybe even has, depression?"
"Depression? No. He was angry. It was different."
"Why was he mad?" I know Alex doesn't like to talk about this. As my boyfriend, maybe he's under some obligation to tell me what happened on his end, but I don't expect him to tell me anyone else's secrets, and he doesn't seem to want to explain what went wrong between him and Scott.
"I could try to tell you his reasons, but they weren't good enough for the things he said to me, and nothing would have been good enough for the way he treated you."
"He was trying to protect me." He didn't want me to feel what he felt. Why didn't he just tell me that, though? Maybe because I would have kept trying anyway. Maybe because I would have told him to just stop thinking about sad things. Ugh, I suck. I want to go back in time and kick myself in the face.
"You wanted to help him and he rejected you. Maybe you don't care how much that tore you apart, but he was selfish and arrogant. He needed you and you were there for him, perfectly ready to sacrifice your own happiness to help him, but he just made you feel worthless and alone. He stopped being your friend a long time before either of us left."
"He was giving you to me," I whisper.
"That doesn't make any sense."
"I know," I say miserably. I don't know why it sounds so true to me. I guess I just want there to be some version of this where Scott actually behaves like the Scott I knew. He was struggling with depression, and Alex and I didn't understand, so he pushed us away. That wasn't selfish. He was just guarding himself because we made him feel terrible and worthless, but it isn't like him to suffer in silence. "He was giving me to you." He was getting rid of both of us.
"He didn't give you to me, Mitch. I took you. I stole you." I hear the garage door open. Alex ends the call, and I find him at the door. He's treating his shoelaces like delicate gossamer. He's hunched over, blocking his own light as he unties them. A bright red drop falls onto the tile by his foot and he swears under his breath. "Nosebleed," he explains. I run to the kitchen for paper towels.
He passes behind me and opens the freezer. He emerges with a bag of blackberries pressed against one eye. Blood is streaming from both nostrils and pooling in the crevice of his lips.
"Who did this to you?" I growl, soaking up the blood. He laughs. My eyes widen and my stomach twists as I realize how backwards this looks. "Did you hurt someone?" I know how gentle he is. He wouldn't fight if he didn't have to. If he sits in front of a jury of strangers, though, he's going to look like a thug. He could go to jail.
"Very badly. Maybe irreparably." He takes the paper towels from me and leans back against the counter with a heavy sigh. His eye, the one I can see, is hazel today, and red from crying. "I hurt you."
