⇢
I didn't feel like myself anymore.
I laid in bed, staring at my fan, the humming noise of it being the only sound circulating the room.
Yesterday hurt me. So badly.
After I finished crying into Harry's shirt, and apologizing profusely, I made my way back into my room, never leaving. Patty came to check on me on the hour every hour, offered to stay with me, but I just couldn't bare it. I couldn't let myself bring down her high of her wedding being in four days. Albeit, her in-law's already partially did that, but I didn't want to ruin it even more.
Harry never came to check on me. Not that I really care, because that whole. . . two hour moment was just a fluke. It would never happen again. Because truthfully, if he saw me like this, I would break down far more than I already have. And I don't know if there's any coming back from that.
I meant to call Dr. Hill eventually, but anytime I touched my phone this burning sensation – more figurative than literal – coursed through my hand. Probably to tell me that I needed to overcome my problems alone for once. But I had to do it because if I didn't, I would reset to this shell of a person that was a mute and immobile and just miserable.
I didn't even want to watch TV. I just wanted to stare into space forever to collect myself as best as I could. To the point where I would be well enough to put on a good act. I've done it before, I can do it again.
A knock on my door sounded, startling me from my daze. Patty peaked her head inside my room, that pitiful look on her face as she looked at me with sad eyes. I hated that look. But I guess I deserved it, because I was. . . a mess.
"Okay to come in?" She questioned softly. I nodded my head, thinking now would be a good time to start to put my act on. The sooner the better, after all.
Patty gently shut the door behind her, shuffling over to the empty side of the bed. Picking up the covers, she laid beside me, joining me in watching my fan spin round and round. To any person this would seem very strange, potentially delusional; but to us, it was nowhere out of the ordinary. Not when you have me around at least.
"You know you can talk to me about anything, everything, right?" She spoke up, turning her head to look at me. I turned on my side to face her, letting her know she had my attention instead of that fan.
"I know," I said meekly. I wanted to. But I couldn't.
"Whatever it is that has you like this, it seems very serious. And not to be like that bitch or anything, but why the hell does Kenny know and I don't?" She laughed, now turning onto her side.
I let out a small smile but that quickly vanished as I thought over her words. She's my best friend, practically my sister. I felt horrible that Kenny knew and she didn't. But he only knew because of coincidence. "He shouldn't know either."
Patty gave me a confused look, furrowing her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
"He only knows because he – I guess had to know. Trust me, Kenny is not more important than you and if I could tell you, I would," I tried to explain, but everything I say just comes out cryptic.
"But why can't you?"
I sighed, my eyes falling shut, "It's too hard."
"Wendy," she trailed off, her hand cupping my face.
"You won't look at me the same. No one will. I'm far more damaged than you know, Patty."
Her heart shattered; I could tell. There wasn't that pitiful look anymore, just a broken one. Her lips parted in shock, her hand falling from my face. Patty just shook her head profusely, denying my statement.
"You know that's not true. After everything we've been through, nothing, nothing could make me look at you differently. I want to be here for you in anyway I can. We're not best friends for nothing you know."
A tear slipped past my eye as I held onto her hand. I nodded my head, "One day. I promise."
My phone started ringing, the annoying vibrations shaking the bedside table. Of course, Kenny was drunk, calling me nonstop every since he was kicked out yesterday. I didn't need to answer the phone to know he was filled with countless amounts of beer and whiskey.
"He's a psycho," Patty repeated her words from yesterday.
"You're telling me," I huffed, denying his call.
"Why don't you block his number?"
"Uh– I'm not exactly sure," I mumbled. "I guess deep down I have this hope he'll change."
For some reason that made me think of Harry. I'd say he's managed to change over the past years. In high school, if I cried into his shirt, he would've just pushed me off. Honestly, he probably wouldn't have been close enough in the first place for my tears to actually reach his shirt. He tried to comfort me, to console me, to calm me down. Before, he would've scoffed and turned away. Harry has matured, and I'm happy that he did.
But after our entire history, I can't find it in me to let my guard down completely around him. There's this certain part of my brain I have stuffed into a lockbox that I no longer have the key to. I threw away the key to make sure none of what resides in there ever gets out, because everything inside is too much to handle. Part of that everything is Harry and all that's ever happened. Most importantly the pain, like the day at the airport. That memory is stuffed so far deep in that lockbox, most of the time I forget it even happened.
"You're happier when he's not around. Honestly, this week is the happiest and most free I've seen you in a long time," she commented, her thumb rubbing the back of my hand.
"That's because I have been– well, trying at least. And I'm sorry," I choked, tears welling in my eyes, "I'm sorry I've ruined this for you with all of my issues. And I'm sorry my problems takeaway my time from helping you with yours. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"Oh no, no," she reacted, pulling me into her. God, I couldn't stop crying.
"I'm a horrible friend. I'm a horrible person. I. . . Everything is just so horrible," I continued. At least I wasn't wearing mascara to soak into her shirt.
"Wendy, will you stop that? You are not a horrible person. I'm so beyond happy that everything with me is in the dark, as selfish as that sounds. I love you beyond words and I don't care about anything you've gone through, you will always be an amazing person– my person."
I giggled at her "Grey's Anatomy" reference. It was true though, she was my person too. If it weren't for her, who knows where I would be today.
"And can I say, I've noticed you getting all mushy with a certain Mr. Styles," Patty teased. I rolled my eyes at her steer into a new subject.
"I was not mushy with him."
"You wouldn't let him go yesterday."
"Yesterday we were in a parallel universe."
"If you guys want to get married Friday too, go right ahead. We've got the minister, I'll be the maid of honor, it can work."
"Ha-ha. We're not getting married, Patty, no matter how hard you try," I retorted, turning my body so I was now facing the ceiling again.
"One day you will. Your love story will be one for the movies. Speaking of, want to stay in bed all day and watch movies?"
I smiled at her suggestion, getting up from my spot for the first time in twenty-four hours. Well, I did get up before to pee. I walked over to the cabinet below my TV, opening it to reveal a stack of movies I stuffed in there many years ago.
"I'll get the popcorn!" She squealed, hurrying out of the room. I looked at the set of movies, deciding on which ones to choose. Of course "The Notebook" was a given. I contemplated which other ones, finally deciding on "Clueless" and "10 Things I hate About You." This should be good for now and if we decide to watch more we'll choose later.
Another knock on my door sounded making me turn my head over my shoulder to see who it could be, since Patty wouldn't knock again. Derek stood in the doorway, a small smile on his face.
"Hey, Wen," Derek said, "Glad to see you're up."
"Well, my butt was getting sore, had to get up eventually," I chuckled. Although this five minute break from my bed won't actually do any good for my butt.
"Girls day?" He questioned, gesturing to the movies beside me on the floor.
"Hope you don't mind."
"No, never. I've been getting sick of her anyway, it's best we keep some distance before she rips my head off."
I nodded my head in agreement. The wedding couldn't happen if either bride or groom wasn't there, after all.
All of a sudden a loud noise occurred, making me and Derek jump in our spots. And then the smoke detector went off. The smell of smoke soon followed, making me very nervous. I shot up from my spot, running out of the room and downstairs.
A cloud of smoke circled the whole downstairs, Patty waving a towel at the smoke detector to get it to stop beeping. I coughed as I inhaled the grey substance, waving my hand in front of me to try and get it away.
"Patty!" I yelled.
Everyone crowded around me to look at what happened. How did a single bag of popcorn cause this wreck?
"I don't know what happened! I pressed popcorn on the microwave and the next thing I know, boom! Fucking microwaves, they hate me, I swear!" She stressed, waving her towel around like a madwoman.
"Why don't you go back upstairs and I'll take care of this, okay?" I insisted, pushing her in the direction of the stairs. She sighed, walking away with her head down in shame.
I put on one of the fans and opened the window in the kitchen to hopefully move the smoke along quicker. Grabbing the towel, I began waving it around to shut up the dang smoke detector. Its incessant beeping was developing a headache.
"Here, let me," Liam said. He stood on a chair, taking off the cover and taking the batteries out of the stupid thing. A few moments later he put the batteries back in, no more noise resonating from it. Well, that solves that.
"That was a lot easier," I laughed. I threw out the burnt bag, grabbing a new one from the cabinet.
Opening the microwave, I placed the new bag inside. What a tumultuous task just to make popcorn.
"I um. . . I don't mean to intrude, but I hope you're okay. I don't know what happened or anything, just that whatever did happen effected you and– I'm sorry, I probably sound rude," he rambled, pursing his lips.
"You're not rude, Liam. I'm okay, I was just in a bit of a funk. Thank you, though," I smiled, placing my hand on his arm reassuringly.
This'll pass like it always does. I'll be okay. I always turn around after bad events. I just hate that I know this isn't over yet. Kenny will come back and shit will go down again and I'm too mentally exhausted to deal with it. He won't give up until something goes his way. The only way he'll stop is if he is either dead or maybe if I get police involved.
God, I hate him. So much. Who would've thought the guy I loved endlessly would take the spot of the guy I hated most. He took Harry's spot which says a lot.
"You know, we have a gig tomorrow over in L.A., you should come. It's at the Troubadour at eight and I feel like it'll get your mind off things. Think about it at least," Liam proposed, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge.
"That sounds great," I agreed.
"Cool. And since you know the band you can come back stage," he nudged with a small smile before walking off.
The microwave beeped behind me, letting me know that the popcorn was ready. No smoke, no burnt popcorn, no beeping smoke detectors this time.
I needed tomorrow. I wouldn't drink or anything like that but I hoped to enjoy and bask in the– good?– music. Hopefully everything will be okay.
Hopefully.
—
mm i hated this chapter lol
just a nice filler i suppose but it was quite boring idk i'm a shit writer D:
happy mother's day to all that are celebrating! i send my love to all of your mommas
please vote and comment and be happy <3
stay rad xo
-g