Chapter Ten: If It Hurts This Much, Then It Must Be Love.

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It had been roughly four and a half weeks since the Kerrang! Awards and everything was different. The guys had been going out much more frequently, sufficiently mixing business with pleasure—days filled with press and interviews and long nights planning out their upcoming tour blurred, with even longer nights spent in and out of bars, wondering over LA until all hours of the night. Time seemed to crawl by, at a startlingly fast pace—all the days blurred together, all the sunrises and sunsets looked the same, all the night skies were the same shade of blue. Was it any wonder they hadn’t fully realized how quickly time had gone by?

Olivia and Hunter, however, were at home, none of the guys thinking to invite them. It wasn’t like they were sitting around waiting for the guys to pretend they exist again, though; Josh’s theory actually proved correct. Olivia hadn’t even realized he’d begun telling people about the small, new bakery, but he had, and boy, was it paying off. Business was booming at Sweet Creations. So, the girls were doing rather well for themselves, and that was that. But they couldn’t help but miss the guys, a little; and sometimes, maybe, wait for one of them to call them up, asking if they wanted to hang out—but this was only when the nights were slow and long and neither girl had any other plans.

Hunter had noticed that Olivia had been spending some time with a guy named Derek, every now and then, but she knew how her best friend loved to flirt and didn’t think much of it. Until tonight, that was. She glanced up at the clock, realizing it was 12:24 am and she hadn’t heard from her friend since around 6 pm when she went out for the evening with aforementioned Derek. Normally, it wouldn’t alarm her but something didn’t feel right; her best friend hadn’t texted her, tweeted, posted something on Tumblr, or even updated her Facebook—that was far too uncharacteristic, especially given how often the girl did those first three things. No matter where she was or what she was doing, she always found a way and the time to communicate what was on her mind. Having sufficiently worked herself up to the point where she was chewing on her nails from how worried she was, Hunter decided to give the slightly older girl a call—if it was nothing and she was worried for no reason, then fine, but she couldn’t stand not calling out of an overwhelming fear that something had happened and she didn’t do all she could to help her friend, if help was what she was in need of.

The line trilled for eons before finally, “H-hello?”

“‘Liv?”

“Hey, Hunter, what’s up?”

“Um, where the hell are you?”

“I-I’m on my way home now, okay?

“Alright…” Hunter responded uneasily; something was not right, and she was definitely glad she called her best friend. Despite the fact that she already knew the answer to her question, she asked it anyway, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” Olivia lied unconvincingly before the line went dead.

Hunter would pace up and down the length of the hallway leading into the living room until her best friend finally returned home; immediately, she pulled her into her arms.

“‘Liv, oh my god, ‘Liv,” was all that the slightly taller girl could say over and over again, “I’m so glad you’re safe, I was so worried about you. What the hell happened to you, where were you? I was so worried.”

“I-I was… I was just, um, out with Derek, you know.”

“Yes, but why didn’t you text me when you wouldn’t be home by 11? That’s like our thing—we agreed on it; if we aren’t together, we’re supposed to check in. So I know you’re not fucking dead, ‘Liv!”

“I-I’m sorry, I know,” was all the slightly older girl mumbled before breaking away from the embrace to head up the stairs to her bedroom.

“Are we going to talk about this? Something obviousl—”

“Can we please talk about it in the morning?”

Olivia didn’t wait for a response before slamming her door behind her and leaning back against it, reaching behind her to turn its lock. She waited a few seconds, while she listened to what Hunter was doing downstairs. After deciding the younger girl was probably done moving around, she threw her purse onto her bed and began stripping off her clothes for a shower. The leather jacket, white tank top, skintight super skinnies and thigh-high boots she wore were in relatively the same condition, except the tank top, she’d have to get rid of it and replace it before Hunter could notice—because the other girl would notice and Olivia would have to explain.

But how could Olivia explain to her best friend of almost a decade that she thinks she’s in an abusive relationship? And that she had to get rid of the tank top because it’d been ripped; Derek had ripped it when he was dragging her through his apartment?

Without bothering to cover herself up, she padded across the hall to the bathroom she and Hunter shared. Once more locking the door behind her, she turned to gaze at herself in the mirror. There was a bruise on her hip, from when she’d hit the edge of his coffee table—while being dragged across the apartment; her shoulders ached from being gripped and slammed back into the wall.

After a second or two of staring at her reflection into a mirror, she felt as though she fell through it; through its frame, into its other dimension, and was simply staring at herself.

It wasn’t like he’d abused her, she’d reasoned; abuse is like getting beaten, brutally, and that wasn’t what happened. They got into an argument, things got a little physical—that happens in other relationships. She was fine, with only the one visible bruise. Besides, she was concluding her rationale with, he apologized and he kissed the bruise and he was crying a little; he seemed genuinely sorry.

He said he wouldn’t do it again.

***

Hunter was in desperate need of just her boyfriend’s voice right now; it would be the only thing that would calm her down, make sense. She knew it was late and she knew he was probably out with friends but she really, really needed him. So, before she could give it another thought and probably chicken out, she picked up her phone and dialed the number she’d now committed to memory. Her lower lip was trapped between her teeth to keep tears at bay while the line trilled, endlessly.

“D—”

“‘ello?!” an obviously drunk, accented, female voice shrieked, “‘ho the hell is this?”

After a second or two of thought, Hunter just hung up her phone, set it down on the coffee table in front of her. She stood herself up from her seat on the couch, turned off all the lights in the living room, made sure all the downstairs doors and windows were locked before heading up to her bedroom. She decided she’d deal with what just happened tomorrow; her worries over Olivia and whatever the hell it was that just happened were too much for one night.

When Hunter entered her bedroom, she found her roommate and best friend curled up in the fetal position on her bed with her favorite stuffed panda tucked into her chest. Brows furrowed and eyes pooling with tears, she spoke up softly, “‘Liv?”

“H-H-Hunter,” she stammered in response, “I’m sorry. I’m s-sorry that I’m not a g-good friend and that I p-push you away and I-I push everyone away and I’m s-sorry.”

Hunter couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her best friend so upset, and it worried her—something had happened earlier that the slightly older girl wasn’t telling her. But instead of pressing the issue, she just crawled into bed and wrapped her arms around her best friend’s shaking frame.

They both could sort out this whole mess in the morning, but, right now, they just needed each other.

***

I'm working on another update right now, call it an apology for the long wait. I'm also gonna try to update my LJ fic soon. xo

What If I Lived a Lie? [You Me at Six]जहाँ कहानियाँ रहती हैं। अभी खोजें