Song: Impossible by James Arthur
**
Maxwell Augustus
I am severely overwhelmed with just about everything right now.
I think I may have reached a point where I am easily frustrated with the smallest everyday task.
Where I want to curl up in a ball and binge watch every marvel movie ever created.
Where I want to stop existing, even if it's just for a little while.
Everything just feels far too much for me right now.
Every fucking day it's the same damn struggle and I'm honestly beyond sick of it.
Even the days where I am at my absolute best my anxiety likes to just tap me on the shoulder and remind me that it's always there.
Today has been filled with a lot of 'Max? Are you sure you're feeling okay? It's okay to slow down.' From a very worried Romeo.
I wish he would stop worrying about me so much. The answer always went something along the lines of. 'Of course I am. I just need you to sign off on this medical file and I'll be out of your hair... for another five minutes before I need to speak to you about something related to this shit.'
Mr. Ferrari has once again added a pile of files to my desk this morning, believe it or not this is not an all that common occurrence but lately he has been having quite a few issues with shipments coming up short and he's trying to figure out why. We are't entirely sure if it's due to suppliers or someone directly stealing from the shipments as they arrive in the docks, but it's sort of my job to find out.
The files are usually split between Matteo, Hunter, and I except Hunter normally has to run ideas by me or Matteo — usually me since I am always around and for some reason Mr. Ferrari likes me and trusts me enough to handle it without having to run it by him first.
Oddly enough the pile of 'priority' files that were placed on my desk seemed to be ones in which I had to get up and retrieve more information from Romeo so all day I've been going in and out of his office — I do that pretty often anyway but the last hundred or so times was actually work related.
Odd chance that I ended up with every single file that needed something from Romeo but I guess I can't really complain.
Fuck!" I shout as I hit into the table cause the file I was going through
"Calm down, it's just a file."
"Dammit, it's not about the stupid fucking file."
Third Person
Life is often like a rubber band, you can only be pulled in two separate directions before the band just ...
Snaps.
"Augustus, look at me for a moment." Hunter demands, Max however couldn't be bothered to even fake eye contact. "Just stay here, I'm going to go get Doctor Ferrari."
"No, don't. Everything is fine."
"Who are you trying to convince here, me or you?"
"Just fucking drop it.""
Meanwhile, Romeo happened to be right outside the door because his father asked him to retrieve a file from Max and overheard some of the commotion.
"Get out." Romeo states without looking up from his frantic best friend.
"But I have work to do."
"I don't care. Get out. That's an order." Romeo's voice remained cold and detached, that was until the door finally clicked shut and a switch inside him flipped.
He has no idea why his decade long best friend is so distraught but whatever the case may be, the sight was absolutely heartbreaking.
"Max, just breathe with me. Come on, you can do it." Romeo whispers soothingly while brushing his loose curls out of his face lightly, Max flinched lightly at the action. Normally he would be good at hiding it, just as he does the shaking of his hands when someone raises their voice.
He works for the mafia, he has to be good at hiding fear. Fear can easily be used against you.
Maxwell Augustus would know the outcomes of being afraid.
Perhaps more than anyone.
"Max, listen to my voice and come back to me. It's just you and I in this room. Everything is okay. You're okay. Slow deep breaths. There you go.. you're doing so well." Romeo continues to speak in a soft tone while running his finger tips slowly up and down his best friend's spine. "There you go... I am so proud of you."
Pride was something Maxwell George Augustus was not accustomed to, and some in him ignited as he heard the words for the first time from his best friend.
"Do you want to tell me what was the reason you are so worked up?"
"I don't know... I'm sorry." Max whispers, wincing at the sound of his own voice.
Max knows what had him 'so worked up'.
He has a little eight year old girl who not only looks up to him as her big brother, but also the only father figure she has ever known.
He's fed up with his own fathers relentless abuse.
He wishes he can just go home and vent his problems to his own big brother.
He wishes his uncle could tell him stories of his own mom when they were kids.
He wants to live each day without worrying about stressing out his heart or making sure his medications are taken in time.
He feels like he can just shatter at the smallest touch, but he can't do that. He has a little girl waiting for him at home.
Even if it feels like the entire world is resting on his chest.
He wants to be able to break
"Don't do that Max, you never in a million years have to apologize to me. Now come here." Romeo states while offering him a hand to stand up — which Max gladly accepted.
"Where are you taking me?" Max questions as his bestfriends pulls him out of the room, still keeping Max's hand tightly secure in his own.
'Maybe he hasn't realized' Max thinks to himself, not that he would out right inform Romeo that he's still holding his hand.
"My place." He responds while continuing to pull him out of the building.
"What?! I still have work."
"No. You have rest, doctor's orders. Plus my dad is your boss which sort of makes me your boss."
"That's not how that works, and I can't keep getting out of my job just because your dad is my boss."
"That never stopped you when you decided to lounge in my office doing nothing."
"That's different."
"Is it now? Well if it makes you feel any better I can run in and grab everything you were working on and you can use my office and the security room at the house."
"Fine." Max replies — realizing he won't get anywhere trying to argue.
"Fine." Romeo Mimics.
"Yes. Fine."
"Fine."
"Just shut up and get my stuff... please."
"Fine."
Maxwell Augustus
"Some nights you will feel like there are a thousand galaxies exploding in every inch of you and you are burning too bright to ever be looked at directly. However, some nights you will feel impossibly small, like your whole body could slip through the spaces between atoms and never reappear in this world again, and some nights you will feel like a paper doll, carefully crafted and easily blown away, fragile, too delicate to ever be touched,and some nights you will feel like each cell in your body is made of the strength that holds the whole planet together an that is okay, because you are made of stardust and minuscule and the building blocks of everything in the universe, and you are too alive to never feel anything more than human." ~ Anonymous.
Truthfully, I'm exhausted from trying to be far stronger than I feel.
I don't think enough people talk about the scary last few minutes before a panic attack concludes, when your vision is still foggy, your heart is beating at an alarming rate, your breathing is uneven.
You feel like you're about to die, and I'm not just being dramatic.
And then when if finally comes to an end, your thoughts aren't really clear, and you're just so fucking tired. Your brain is tired from the constant rushing thoughts, your heart is tired from the rapid beating, trying to get enough blood circulated in your veins, your lungs are tired from you trying desperately to breathe in enough oxygen, your eyes are tired as you fight the darkness from taking hold where it is least wanted,
You are just fucking tired.
But then again I'm tired of everything.
The way the birds sing their perfect melody like nothing could go wrong.
Truthfully I just want to be happy, not hurt or confused, nor stressed... Just happy.
I suppose that is most of our goals but then again some of us are made to have their fairytale happy ending.
I am so tired and I desperately need a long ass break from this thing we call life, but I can't just run off and show back up in a few days ad claimI went on a random spa trip like Megan keeps telling me to do.
I have Lisa to think about.
She's all I can think about, if it wasn't for the fact I know my supposed father knows people with power I would have taken her and ran off the second I turned eighteen.
But I can't do that.
And I'm tired of feeling so unbelievably fucking stuck.
I hide what I truly feel about anything and anyone.
From what goes on at home to my unwanted feelings for my best friend.
It's only a matter of time before the rubber band we call life truly does snap and everything comes rushing to the surface.
Or I say something I shouldn't say...
The latter is the most likely to occur first.
"Do you ever go home?" Manny asks as he enters the family room, rudely interrupting my minor existential crisis as I lay upside down on the couch — allowing the blood to rush to my head and avoiding the work I was nagging Romeo about. Truthfully, I am far more exhausted than I thought I would be. Romeo left to pick me up some food about five minutes ago, so I'm left to contemplate all of my life choices that led me to this very moment.
"Do you?" I shoot back
"Touché."
**
A/N:
Don't mind papa Ferrari, he's just trying to play cupid without making it obvious that he's playing cupid.
[Words: 1770]
[Edited: January 22, 2024]