The Triangle of the Fallen

Chapter four: The secret that's kept best not hidden

Andy's POV:

I wake up on my couch, Juliet standing over me, tears trickling down her cheeks,

"Andy? ANDY?"

Worry and makeup are smeared across her face as I blink at her,

"Ohmygod Andy, You're finally awake! Ronnie brought you home, said that you had gotten drunk at his place and he didn't want you driving home alone!"

She envelops me in a hug then, her smell, her comforting smell swirling around me. I breathe in deeply and snuggle into her.

"Juliet, I'm fine. Did Ronnie go home?"

She nods at my words, holding me close. Ronnie, Hm. What had happened at his place? After the third drink...I don't remember anything. But I know if I ask Ronnie he'll tell me everything that happened. So I'm not worried. But..something seems wrong. Like a memory scratching at my mind, demanding to surface and remind me but......for some reason I just can't remember. Like I'm not supposed to remember. Yet. Not yet. But soon. Very soon.

Juliet's POV:

Ronnie had dropped him off, drunk. He hadn't woken up for THREE whole hours. I was so worried. Thank god he had woken up after I started bawling. Oh god. What would have happened if he had died? Oh god. Oh my god. I would never be able to tell him....I have to tell him. Soon. And Jake...well. Jake. He needs to leave my life....I didn't mean to.... But....now I have feelings for him...and I don't want to hurt Andy...but the way Jake touches me...holds me...when Andy doesn't look. It's....It's....But when I get home and see Andy it's like I forget about Jake. Andy is the perfection in my world. The silence in my chaos. He's the love of my life. But why when I'm with Jake do I feel such a strong connection? Ugh. If Andy would have died the guilt would have eaten me alive for years until my death. I have to tell him. Soon. When though? Not when he's drunk. I mean he may not remember after but...he might hurt me. I mean. He never has before..but after all the things I tell him he might. He doesn't know what I do when I'm at my "studio". But he needs to soon. Before we get married. I hope I have the guts to spit it out. I hope he forgives me. I hope.

Ashley's POV:

Wow. Finally. I've been waiting for a text from him for hours. My phone pings, finally. My screen lighting up like my face does, only my face is brighter. My stomach is turning and I feel lightheaded. The last text had been from Ronnie but on Andy's phone? Now it's Andy. I know because of the way he calls me his sexy cowboy. It's a joke between me and him. I wish it was real not a joke but this is what I get so I work with it. I shoot back a text calling him a talentless stick, another joke, and he replies almost instantly. We have plans to meet up on tuesday. That's two days away. We decided to meet at the olde horse. A bar here in town. It's become a regular spot for us. I can't wait, but first I have to sort myself out and find an outfit. Sending Andy a final message for the night, I lay back into my lonesome, disorganized bed and sigh. Why? Why can't I have him? Am I not good enough? I let these thoughts drift me off into a terrorizing silence until my eyes flutter shut and I'm gone. In a world where Andy is mine. In a world where everything is ok. A world where....I'm happy. My favorite world. It seems to wrap its tentacles around me and pull me in. Wrapping itself around me, I take one last conscious breath. This. This is what I want. Silence. Comfort. I'm in my world. I'm gone.

Jake's POV:

She makes me laugh. She does. But she's Andy's. I envy her..... No. I don't. Andy is hers. But she is mine? But I don't want her. I'm lying alone again watching my ceiling fan spin in a constant circle. Like my life. A constant circle. Of pain. And heartbreak. It's like a cycle. But that's ok. I'm used to it by now. I want the one person I can't have. Oh well. I try to sleep. I do. It's starting to show. The circles under my eyes, darkening. Insomnia sucks. It allows my thoughts to reproduce and eat me from the inside out. Slowly killing me. But I'm silent about it. Because I can't really talk about it. I don't really talk about anything anymore. I sigh and roll up my sleeves, staring at the tattoos, I trace the scars underneath the ink. No one really sees them. No one knows. It honestly scares me what I used to do to myself. I glance over at the drawer that still holds those magical objects. The objects that can turn silver to red. I couldn't dare throw them away. They were the ones there for me when I needed them. They were loyal. Unlike the people in my life. Who disappeared at the slightest scent of chaos or insanity. My eyes sparkle with tears at the memory. Of the pain. Of the sadness. The constant sadness. When I hurt myself...it felt like I was alive again. I poke my left lower rib, remembering when I used to stand in the mirror grabbing my "fat rolls" which in reality were just normal skin. Normal weight. But I thought I was fat. I was told I was fat. And I believed it. The people who told me that I was fat....my friends, my family. Their words started to tear at my brain, ripping me apart... so I stopped. Stopped eating. I watched every night in the mirror, grabbing, tugging, screaming at the fat to get OFF of me, make me feel ok with myself. Then I would I cry myself to sleep because even after TWO years of not eating. Of cutting. I still wasn't good enough. I snap back and continue tracing the scars on my ribs. I laugh a little at the thought. That no one knows. No one. Not the fans. Not the other band members. Not Andy. Not even Juliet. She doesn't pay attention. It's way too easy to hide this, the tattoos help with the wrists scars, the ribs, well I don't show them too much and even when I do no one pays attention. I rub my eyes and frown. I can physically feel the bags under my eyes. I groan at the pain I feel when I touch my bruised neck. Juliet leaves too many marks. It hurts. But I never complain. Why? I don't know. I don't know how to complain. I've taken everyone's shit for years. For my whole life. So what will a couple of bruises do? Nothing really. But why is it everytime I'm with her Andy constantly drifts through my mind just like he is right now? I shift and lay on my side, carefully positioning myself. I need some sleep. I close my eyes but it's like sleeps sweet, poison traced nails are being held at bay. Like something doesn't want me to sleep. Why? Why am I being tortured like this? What did I ever do? To deserve this? I shiver as a tear slips down my cheek and across my nose, I watch it. It's like a part of my soul. It just slipped out. I'm sorry for whatever I did. I'm sorry for existing. I'm sorry I messed up. I'm sorry.