Chapter Two
Carmen.
It's a cycle, really.
I get upset, I see the opportunity, I create the opportunity, and I drown myself. I hate myself for it the worst, the most.
And here I am again.
In my shortest skirt, I screw off the top and pour my glass full. It starts to spill on to the counter, leaving it to hell, I just chug from the bottle.
Until it's ripped away from my hand.
"Easy there, girl" A familiar blond dude stands before me, towering over me. His brown eyes search my face, waiting for an answer.
I smile, the liquor from before long affecting my state. "Hey"
"Hey," he touches my elbow gently, moving me a little away from some guy who stalked past us, preventing me from getting run into. "What's the occasion?"
I blink.
"I never got your name, babes" I smile drunkenly, remembering.
"It's Wren," he says, smiling slightly with his teeth. "Are you okay, Carmen?"
"I'm really okay" I edge closer to him.
"Take it easy, okay?" He leans against the counter. "To stay safe"
I furrow my eyebrows, but nod anyway. He isn't as gone as me, seeming too sober. And besides, it's not his business how much I drink. I can handle it. He can mind his own shit.
Wren turns and takes a cup, filling it. He looks me into the eye over the edge of the cup as he takes a sip, I keep eye contact.
I blurt, "You're so fucking hot, you know that?"
Wren gives me a look, "Alright, thanks" he says, "You're more far gone than I thought"
My phone rings, vibrating against me as it's tucked between my waist and skirt waistband. I gulp, I can only guess who it is. I do not want to answer, so I don't. I'd rather drown myself.
The chills run over me, my mood getting even more ruined, worsening. I grab Wren's drink and down it in one go. I flee.
I slip between people, pressing away through the bodies and crowds. It's a dumb fucking house party, but there are so many fucking people.
Sometimes, often, I think about running away somewhere far away. Maybe I could start over. Maybe I could get a new life and never look back, perhaps I could find peace.
I'm tired of everything, but I can't be fucked with all that shit taking me down. The truth is, I'm already teared up like some doll, all ripped up.
My head is a constant madhouse, it and everything around me is making me restless. Making me run and search for escape.
I'm like a motherfucking clock on a wall, running and running, never arriving, always going in circles. Round and round and round.
I take someone's hand when they offer it, I dance with them. I pull on a smile and kiss his neck, I let him kiss mine. My body against his, I let myself be distracted. I whisper sweet nothings to the stranger, nodding when he asks me if I want to take it upstairs.
We ran into Fran on our way.
Fran grabs my arm, looking at the guy and then back to me, "You sure about that?"
He worries that I'm too drunk to know what I'm doing, too drunk to give consent.
I am. Perhaps. But I don't care, I just want to feel the momentary escape, distraction.
I've got my friend under my spell, he can't even tell, my mask strong, convincing enough.
I smile at him, "I am, Francis, don't worry"
He nods and lets me go. "Find us later"
Us as in him and his friends, I assume. Most likely.
"I will"
I let the guy take me upstairs. I don't feel good about it, but I don't care, haven't for a while, for too long.
I lock the door when we enter an empty room. There's a couch and a table, and some random shit I can't be fucked with to focus on.
I kiss him leaving his face stained by my lipstick, his hands on my waist, mine in his hair. He tosses my phone away, our clothes following along, walking us to the couch.
I get on my knees, "You're doing good, beautiful"
My back hits the soft material and he's over me. I let myself feel good, I let myself be taken away. I give myself away. It has become all I know.
When we're done, we collapse next to each other, mushed together since there isn't much room.
"Are you good?"
"I am" I say.
It was some random one-time thing; I stand and gather my clothes.
I pull on my top and skirt, I put back on my shoes and take my phone. It has like a million missed calls and texts, lighting up my screen.
He pulls on his clothes; we exit the room together. He spears me a glance and travels down the stairs. I don't follow him. I sit down on top of an empty staircase and put my phone on my lap.
I rest my elbows on my knees and lean forward, my head in my hands.
I can feel the headache coming in, the dizziness becoming suffocating. My insides roll around and I feel sick already.
I'm not leaving my position any time soon though.
I want to sob, and I want to laugh. I'm a mess. I really am. But I'm okay, I'll be okay.
Right?
I sigh deeply.
I can feel the corners of my mouth pulling down. I am sad, only a little bit.
"Hi"
I clench my eyes shut, not sure if I'm hearing voices in my head or what.
I move my face upwards a little, peeking. Wren is walking up the stairs casually.
He doesn't wait until he reaches the top but stops a few steps below and sits down. Wren leans against the wall next to the stairs.
I hear him sigh deeply. I see him smile to himself, "They really are crazy down there. One dude tried to walk on his hands, mind you, bro was like black out drunk"
He's much more drunk now. I can't really assess him, my mind not being stable enough, sober enough. But I can tell.
"I stopped him, so it's all good, " he continues his rambling.
He turns his head to me and smiles, in force a grin.
His smile falters through his drunkenness. "What's wrong?"
What's wrong?
Why does he think something is wrong? How can he tell? Why does he know?
"Why do you think something's wrong?" I ask, I bet on my ass that I'm slurring.
Wren doesn't give me an answer, because my body betrays itself as a sob rips through me.
I hadn't been paying attention to my eyes getting heavy or them burning. My chest has been feeling heavy.
I feel really shitty.
Tears break through and run like a river down my cheeks.
I hate what I did. I hate that I did it. I feel so fucking bad. So shitty. I regret what we did.
"Carmen"
Wren reaches up his hand and goes to put it to my knee, to comfort me, I hope, but I slap his hand away.
"I'm a terrible person" I swipe my hands over my face and rest my palms over my eyes, praying for my pathetic body to stop crying.
"Why do you feel like that?" Even not sober, Wren knows what to say, even then he acts like a fucking therapist.
What is he like when he's sober? Is he actually a psychologist or what?
"I feel like a complete whore" I say. " I just fucked that dude"
"I saw you two go up here, were you conscious?" He says, a hint of worry shining on his face. Or I assume so, worry, the waves in my eyes are making it hard to see.
So fucking blurry.
"I don't even know" I try to hold back my cries. "All I know is that I feel so shit. And I regret it so much" I break down one last time, leaning too forward.
Wren puts his hands to my shoulders and pushes me back, so I don't fucking fall or some shit.
It honestly would be so ridiculous, hilarious how I would just crash down the stairs. Everyone watching, everything going quiet.
Maybe I'm delusional, no one might notice some bitch flying down, too caught up in their own life to spare me a glance.
"I would tell you that it's okay, but I don't want to lie to you,"
I let out a pathetic, or cry, I'm not sure what it was.
At least he's honest.
"I hope you will be okay, Carmen" Wren murmurs, completely chill and casual and calm in my hysterical situation, leaning on his arm on a step that my feet are on.
I wipe away my tears and sigh again.
"I think I'll never be okay" I find myself confessing quietly.
Wren looks at me, I turn my eyes away. I don't want to look at him, his face might convince me that I'm not beyond saving.
And for some reason it's all so shitty that I feel like I need saving.
I wrap my arms around my stomach, the loud never-ending music making my head scream again.
I don't push him away when he raises his fingers to swipe over my cheek, wiping away the last of my tears.
"Thank you, birdie," I try.
"Don't call me that, Char"
"Wrennie?"
"No"
"Wrendetus"
He pulls his head back, "What even-?"
I smile, "Uh, I don't know" I shrug.
"You don't have to call me anything," Wren says.
I shake my head. "You're supposed to say, 'You can call me anytime' or 'babe' "
"Why?"
I shrug again, "I don't really know"
That's some cliché cocky teenage guy shit, they all say some random shit like that, trying to be funny.
Wren doesn't want to try to act funny.
"So, what's your full name then?"
He smiles, "My family calls me by my middle name often"
"What is it?"
"Tobias"
"Toby?"
"Yes"
"Why?" I ask, not knowing what I'm asking for. I pick on my skirt, "Is there a story or what?"
"There is" Wren says, "My mom's brother's name was Tobias, she named me after him"
I don't pry anymore.
"Okay," I whisper.
We let a few moments pass by.
Wren gets a text, and he answers it, furrowing his brows as he taps his thumbs over the phone screen.
A minute later his brother stumbles up the stairs, not looking up until he almost steps on his brother.
"Kian, what the hell?" Wren groans.
Wren takes Kian's arm and pulls him to sit also.
Kian notices me, "Hey, Carmen girl"
Two really fucking similar dudes sit by me. Both with the same face, one's hair blonde and curlier. They also have different vibes, very different.
"Tobes, you have a pretty brother"
Wren is offended, "Aye yo"
Kian smiles, eyes squinting. "Me?"
"Kiddin' " I smirk. Lying, I don't care, I really can't be fucked with all that shit.
"I need to get my brother home. You coming with?" Wren stands, helping Kian to get up also.
I would rather do anything than go back home.
For some reason, still, I nod.
I don't want to be at this party either.
We three descend the stairs, Wren pushes through the crowds, me and Kian closely behind him.
I text Fran, telling him I'm leaving. He asks if I'm alone or if I need anything. I tell him I left with the twins.
"We got dropped off, so we don't have the car right now" Wren says, as we walk through the dark empty and cold street.
He continues, wrapping Kian's arm around his neck and his own around Kian's waist to help his brother walk more stable.
"Do you live far from here?"
I shake my head. I walked there, well me and Fran, he walked with me from my house.
It's not the best neighborhood I live in, the one we're in right now. Rather lower-class lives here, not the wealthiest for sure.
It's not overly dangerous, but it is what it is. I can't really do anything about it.
The sight of my white painted house makes my stomach churn. The paint is chipped, and the window panes look old and rusty. Just like the people inside. Rotten.
I slow my walk and eventually stop, guys stop too. Wren looks at the house and then at me. He smiles, murmuring softly. "Here you are"
I smile a watery smile, my eyes stinging again. "Bye"
I swallow the brick in my throat and turn around, walking away from my last breath of fresh air.
"Bye, Carmen" they say in chorus, waving, intentionally or not, it made me smile.
I open the front door, finding it unlocked. I hear the chatter and clinging. I hear the cussing and nasty laughter.
No air, just poisonous gas.
***
Wren.
I watch as Carmen shuts the ugly brown door behind her.
Sighing, I turn, and we continue our trek. With no car or no one to call, me and Kian have to walk home. It's not like I'm going to call mom, drunk. I don't think she'd get mad, and I don't want to wake her this late either. And dad's not in town, so he's out of the question.
We had barely walked five feet when a car stops beside us and honks. Kian startles, the noise surprising him as he jumps slightly, I hold him tighter not to let him fall.
I turn my head to glare at the driver, only to be met with a horribly familiar car.
A black Dodge Challenger.
Are you kidding me?
He rolls the passenger side window down, "Really?" Our father tilts his head.
I grin sheepishly, nudging Kian in the ribs to note him of our father's presence, Kian barely awake.
I shrug, "A party"
"Get in guys," Dad leans hand on the wheel, the other arm resting on the headrest of a seat.
Myles Darden has been in a band since he was eighteen, our age. The Sun really grew big and to this day they are active and loved and well known, hence the money, hence the car.
"Hey, dad" Kian grins when I have him hauled to the backseat. He leans forward and pats dad on the shoulder.
"Hi, buddy" Dad puts a hand on top of his sons on his shoulder and rolls his eyes, continuing driving.
Dad and Kian are basically best friends.
I have settled on a passenger seat. "What are you doing here?" I ask dad.
Dad shrugs. "Came to see you, my boys"
Dad has been touring and working. Though his lifestyle has taken the majority of his time, his life, he has been present. Successfully avoiding being the absent father figure.
I don't pry anymore, letting the playing music fill the silence until we get home.
'Came to see you, boys' more like 'came to see my love'
Mam and dad haven't been really...together, lately. I'm not sure what happened.
All I know is that they love each other, and only the other. It's as beautiful as they are, but as nice as it is to see them like that, it's painful when it comes to being between them, seeing them, apart and missing.
Dad's love songs have been about mom from the moment he started writing for the band, always. It's creepy sometimes to hear one of these songs on the radio. Mom says to ignore them.
Mom doesn't love anyone more than Darden boys, us and dad.
Dad and I step out of the car at the same time, letting the doors slam shut. He opens Kian's side of the door and helps him out. We walk to the front door, and they wait while I find my keys. When I have the front door open, da gives Kian to me to hold.
"I'll see you, boys" He pockets his hands.
"You're not coming in?" I ask.
He shakes his head, "I'll visit, I promise"
I nod and I get me and my brother inside, closing the door behind us.
Light shines from the sitting room, when I take off my shoes to walk in, I see mom sitting in an armchair, lamp on and she's journaling, low music playing.
She raises her head hearing me walk in, "Hi, baby" mom smiles.
She's been awake waiting for us to get back. Couldn't sleep, not knowing we're safe back home she excuses when I ask. She didn't say it directly, but I can tell.
"Dad didn't come?" she asks.
She saw him, us, it's now sure.
"No" I say, but the front door opens and a few seconds later dad walks in.
Couldn't just walk away, could he?
I leave them to be, heading to my room. Kian has already gotten upstairs, now laying on his bed face down.
---------
what happened to Waverly beaches sweethearts?