♡ twenty-two ♡

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"baby, how you doing? i know you not doing the best but i'm here, i'll always be here

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"baby, how you doing? i know you not doing the best but i'm here, i'll always be here. tell me if you if you need me and call me if you feelin alone 'cause i'm here, i'm always right here. tell me that i'm dumb, i love to get numb. i know that i'm young but I'm still right here. i don't give a fuck, i love who i love and girl you're that one so i'll wait right here."
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You know how in elementary or in middle school you'd make a 'yo mama' or 'ur mom' joke and by the off chance you'd get a response like "my mom is dead?" The instant regret for a lighthearted joke never settled so deep into your bones before that age, and you've never felt a guilt so strong.

Currently, that's kind of like how this feels, but in this case Beatrice has a chance at surviving, at the expense of Benjamin possibly going back to jail and leaving her broken hearted and alone. That made my stomach feel icky. He's clearly not a good person, but a part of me wonders if there's still a seed of hope deep down inside him somewhere.

I shook my head, not really wanting to think about something so depressing on a night that was supposed to be positive and lighthearted despite there being a billion people here.

There's a silver lining to that, though. It means enough people are interested in my parents work for them to continue art as their job and not be forced to pick up second jobs or change their lifestyle in any way.

Benjamin casually gazed off into the distance, probably regretting opening up to me because now I'm not saying anything. I wish I really did have something to say, but although he revealed his issues to me it still doesn't change the fact that he literally bragged about getting me unconsciously high.

I only had bought two of the pills, and he's the one who gave me the extra three for nothing. Now that I'm remembering correctly, he practically forced me to take them. Also, I would have never done the opiates if he hadn't acted like he didn't have Xanax, which I ended up finding out was a lie.

"Why did you do it?" I broke the silence. "If you needed the money so bad, why'd you nearly shove the extra three pills down my throat?"

"Fuck, man. I don't know, I was drunk—It was a mistake. I'm sorry..." I'm really not sure if I believe him. How do you just do something like that and think you can get away with it? Technically, he did receive a consequence..

Which, reminds me.

Gustav beat his ass for me. Regret rushed through my body, more than it had five minutes ago. What the fuck have I done? I totally screwed things up by ignoring him when he had basically poured his heart out to me.. Whether it was verbal or not.

He numbs himself. I should feel lucky that he showed that he cares about me at all, especially since he's been so heart broken in the past.

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