*Author's Note: The songs Jocelyn Flores by XXXTENTACION, Hey, Look Ma I Made It (just replace "ma" with "dad") by Panic! At The Disco, and Take Yourself Home by Troye Sivan, are used for this chapter.
*This chapter is very long and will not be broken up because I feel it has a stronger impact leaving it as one. It's also my absolute favorite chapter in the entire book. lol
*I am also placing a big WARNING on this chapter because it deals heavily with various mental health issues including destructive behaviors and actions involving drug and alcohol use, upsetting and possibly triggering dialogue, sexual content, and suicide. I am aware that these can be triggering to some, so feel free to skip the chapter (although I recommend reading at least the first half, but I understand) if it's too much.
Ari's P.O.V.
The day of the wedding, before speaking to Nova
The overwhelming feeling of seeing Nova Queen after these years was eating me alive in a good way.
Seeing her again in person felt like I had been caged in a dank and morbidly dark prison for years. Like I was finally released, and I could at last see and feel the shining sun, experience the cool breeze lightly blowing over the bridge of my nose, across my fastened eyes, and through my stiff hair.
I witnessed her making her way through the venue with one of the wedding planners going over a last-minute checklist and I had to fight the urge to walk up to her.
She was definitely a sight for sore eyes.
I'll admit that I was pretty excited at the thought of seeing her today since she was at neither the rehearsal nor the dinner. I really just wanted to try and catch up with her to know what she had been up to the last couple of years and if she was doing well. But even if she doesn't want to speak to me, just having the chance to be in her presence again was a long-awaited gift.
After our last encounter, I never saw nor had a full conversation with her again. Occasionally we would give each other a greeting on holidays or birthdays, but other than that, nothing. She needed her space and I had planned on respecting that. But that given space allowed me to also have the time to get myself right. To restart my life.
I used the majority of that time to start regularly seeing and talking to a therapist, Dr. Laney. She was a therapist specially catering to Lgbtq+ adults who were struggling and needing help. I owe her, my siblings, my mother, and even my father, my life.
I'll probably never tell a soul (my family members and therapist are the only ones that know), but I was home one warm and cloudy night by myself. Dakota was working a late shift and wouldn't be home for at least another four hours and I was exhaustively bored. It was only 6:24pm on a Friday and I had gotten home around 4:30pm.
*Late 2018*
I was so excited because I was recently promoted at my job and would be making more money and gaining more benefits, recognition, leverage, and mobility. I totally deserved it and was extremely proud of myself and couldn't wait to share the news with the people I cared most for.
Of course, I couldn't tell Dakota just yet because he was busy, I couldn't call Remi because of the time difference, so I called my sisters.
They were ecstatic of course because they're usually supportive of me. I dialed my mom and she was also just as delighted as my sisters were and said that I should call my dad as well.
I didn't think that was the best idea, but I figured, what the hell, maybe he would be happy for me. It's been a while since we last spoke, maybe his head is in a different space now. However, when I called him, it went straight to voicemail. I decided that maybe he's at work and I'll just try him again later.
Since he didn't pick up, I called a few of my old college buddies that I was still close with and they of course wanted to take me out to celebrate.
After texting my brother where I'd be, my friends came by to pick me up around 8pm to drag my excited ass to our old favorite college bar, this 25 cent old and new arcade games spot, where we would get wasted and attempt to dominate each other in Dance, Dance Revolution. Loser had to buy the winner a shot and wings of their choice.
Keep in mind that I was great on my feet and had an unmatched reaction time because of my football skills, plus I wasn't too shabby in the dancing department if I do say so myself. I mention all this to say that winning that game comes easily. Because I would majority of the time win, I would get "white boy wasted" and would have to practically be carried out of that place.
The night of my celebration was unfortunately no different. Even though I hadn't been there in months (since graduating) most of the bartenders and servers were the same. And just like the old show Cheers, everyone there knew my name.
"Is that UCLA football prodigy Arizona Matthews I spot?!" A raven-haired blue-eyed model-like woman named Rihanna says as soon as my group walks inside.
"It sure is! Although, now it's "newly promoted at his job, Arizona Matthews"!" My friend Shawn says wrapping his arm around my shoulders and shaking me.
"Oh snap babe! That's great to hear, congratulations! It's also great to see you! Your boys still frequent here and cause just as many laughs for all of us, but we haven't seen you in a while. Did you move?"
We make our way up to the twenty- person dark laminate wood bar and sit in our old favorite spots, in the middle so we could feel like we were a part of everything.
"Thanks, Rih. Nah, I'm still here in the city. I just don't drink like I used to," I responded to her while popping in my mouth some of the bar, honey roasted peanuts Rihanna placed in front of us.
I took pride in my sobriety. I cherished it an insurmountable amount because of the strenuous work I had to put into achieving it. I used to be a fuckin' mess and it's not something I want to revert to.
However, I have been known to let my emotions get the better of me.
"That's beautiful honey. Well, in that case, what can I grab for you boys?"
The guys ended up buying a round of tequila shots while I had my sad and safe non-alcoholic beer that honestly was the weirdest tasting thing in the world. It tasted like fermented juice, but sometimes I still want to feel included.
The guys and Rihanna, who was going to take a shot with my friends in my name, toasted to me and my accomplishments and I can justly say it was one of my happiest moments. I had my good friends around to celebrate me and my hard work that finally got recognized. What could go wrong?
Said literally everyone right before shit hits the fan.
The guys and I ran around the arcade like adult children playing and battling each other in various games just having a good time that I completely forgot to call my father again or to even check to see if he had returned my call.
By this time, it was almost 10:11pm.
I knew my dad, like clockwork, went to bed around the same time every night, 10:30pm. I had to quickly call him so I wouldn't miss my opportunity.
Yeah, I could always call him tomorrow when he's more awake and not settling in for bed, but I wanted to ride this current excitement and hope he would possibly want to share in my enthusiasm.
I excused myself from my group and walked outside into the packed, terribly lit parking lot to try and obtain a better signal and some quiet to make my phone call.
My heart was racing and felt like it was Lightning McQueen at the Piston Cup. I could feel my jittery, anxious body bouncing and shaking as I pulled my phone out of my front right pocket to check for any missed calls.
0 missed calls.
Well, maybe I should call him?
....Ring, ring, ring.....Ring, ring, ring....Ring, ring, ring.....
.....
.....
Looks like my timing is off. Maybe he already settled in for the night. I could actually feel my nerves starting to settle at the relieving thought of him not picking up.
"Hello?" A sleepy gruff voice said on the other line right before I almost hung up.
I couldn't believe he answered.
"Um, dad? Did I wake you?"
"Arizona?"
"Yeah, dad, it's me. I'm sorry for waking you up. I didn't realize the time."
"That's alright, son. Are you ok?"
Wow! This is going well so far.
Maybe he's finally come to grips about my sexuality? Maybe he finally accepts me? Mom and the siblings must've spoken to him again.
"Yeah! I mean, yeah. I just, uh, wanted to check in on you and share with you some good news I got. I've already spoken to mom earlier today, but I wanted to tell and hear from you too."
"I'm alright. It's good to hear your voice. I'm glad you called. How have you been? I know you've been sick. I hope you're better."
Sick? I'm not sick. I've got an immune system of steel! Who told him I was sick?
"Uh, I'm not sick dad."
"Oh? That's great to hear that you're better! I was so distressed for months about you and your well-being. The preacher at your grandfather's church and I prayed for you for so long in hopes that you would get better."
What the hell was he talking about? Is dad going through dementia and no one told me??
"How's Nova? You two still going strong?" He asks, cutting my confused thoughts short.
"Nova? No, dad, we aren't dating. I haven't spoken to her in a while now, but I'm sure she's ok."
"Ah, that's too bad to hear."
"But I have been seriously seeing someone named Billy as of recent. I really like him. He's a sweet guy from the country and his family has a farm and he's a hard worker and knows how to ride horses. We've been on a few dates and have been going pretty steady. We've been thinking about making it official. Maybe you and mom can meet him one day?"
.....
.....
.....
"Dad? Did you fall asleep on me?" I ask with a nervous chuckle.
"Billy is a man?"
"Uh, yeah. I used the pronouns and noun, "he", "him", and well, "guy"."
.....
.....
.....
"So, you're not better."
"What? Dad, I was never sick in the first place. I don't know who told you I was, but they were incorrect," I say confused.
But just as quickly as my confusion set in, my realization set in even faster.
"Shit," I whispered so quietly that my father didn't hear. This was about to take a hardcore left turn.
"You're still gay."
"No, dad. We've had this explosive discussion before. I'm flexible but to simplify it for you, bisexual."
"If you're still going through this stupid phase, why did you bother calling me?!"
I could hear in his voice that my dad was fully awake now and probably sitting up in the bed desperately trying not to wake my mother.
This conversation was not about to go well and I was debating on whether or not if I should just hang up to save myself the trouble.
"What?! I'm not going through a phase! We've talked about this and I'm not gonna talk about it again. I'm homoflexible, dad, I majority date men but occasionally women and I'm happy doing that! Why can't you just move past this?! I'm still your son! I haven't changed in that way and will always be your son," I say standing my ground and becoming increasingly heated.
"You're not my son, you're a fag!"
Damn. That really fucking hurt.
"Actually, you little shit," I say, not even caring that I just completely disrespected my father, a 'Living With Southern Parents 101' no, no, "the word "fag" is an English term meaning a cigarette, and last I checked, I wasn't a cancer stick even if you may believe I am. All I wanted to do was call you and hear your voice because I was so desperate to hear it after all these months. Even after our blow up, can you believe that?! I was really holding out hope that maybe mom was able to change your mind. That maybe you just needed time to adapt to the change, but I can see I was obviously wrong.
You're still the same ignorant man that caused me so many endless nights and mornings of ptsd, anxiety, and depression. Days of throwing up and making myself sick because I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror without hearing your words and feeling disgusting. Hours upon hours of crying rivers until my eyes were raw because I felt like a disappointment to my father only because he said so!
Well maybe I should just stop being a disappointment to you and a blotch on the family name. Maybe I should just disappear; to just not be here anymore to cause YOU anymore trouble and "distress". Yeah, maybe I just shouldn't be here anymore. That will fix everything, right? You'll be happy. Maybe I'd finally gain your approval again? Maybe you'll love me then?"
"What?! Arizona! No, that's not what I want!"
"Sure it is! It's what you and the preacher have been "praying" for right? I love you despite everything, but I've got to run! I've got something to handle that will make you happy. You'll see!"
"Arizona! Wait, don't you hang up on me!"
"Goodbye dad. Tell everyone else I said I love them and that I'm gonna make this right. I'm gonna remove the burden."
I hung up the phone without waiting to hear anything else from him.
Tears blinded me, but euphoria filled my body. I roughly rubbed at my eyes with the palms of my sweaty hands, mixing the salt from my anxious body and the salt from my distraught eyes, and started yelling into the almost midnight sky.
I was no longer in control. I had lost it. I finally cracked.
Thoughts of how I could make my dad happy and no longer be a disappointment to him or a secret burden on the family consumed me. My brain was running a million miles a minute.
I hunched over and started laughing, tears still pouring out of my face like leaking faucets, but I needed to stop. There's no need to be sad anymore. I'm about to make everyone happy! Why be miserable?
I knew exactly what I needed to do.
Get shitfaced.
"Dude, are you alright? You look really upset," I hear some random guy who is standing over the trunk of a Dodge Charger with one other guy and two intoxicated girls, call out to me.
"Ha! Is it that obvious?"
"Kinda," the other guy says.
"We can help you out," the first guy declares.
I stare at him quizzically through my clouded eyes just wondering how exactly it was that these strangers could "help me out".
The two girls with them began motioning for me to come closer and I stupidly oblige.
There on the trunk of the car sat a few little baggies of something white, a small, square, flat mirror, and two rows of the same white substance as the one from the baggies.
"You want a hit?" One of the guys ask, "It'll take that edge off man."
Was I really about to take some random--- Wait, I'm not even about to contemplate or be smart about this. I don't fuckin' care.
"Hell yeah."
Looking around my surroundings first, I proceed to lean over the car, plug one nostril, and severely inhale.
Coke.
I've done coke before and it's not a nice sensation at the beginning.
I exhale sharply as the drug burns the inside of my nose and throat, shooting sparks up to my brain, but that doesn't stop me from doing an extra line. I exhale again and begin laughing at the fact that I just threw away my sobriety.
Hard work, sweat, and tears just inhaled away.
And it felt fuckin' majestic.
I just knew I was about to have a wild night.
"Hey man! There you are! Your buddies were beginning to wonder if you dipped out on them," Evan, a different bartender who I didn't know that well, said greeting me as soon as I stepped back inside the building and up to the bar, "You ok dude? Your eyes are pretty red and swollen. Your nose is too. You didn't get jumped out front, did you?!"
I swiped the back of my hand across my face to rid any remaining evidence of what happened, "Nope! Perfectly fine! Just hit a strong ass blunt though from some rando out there. Note to self," I said leaning towards him and lowering my voice, "Don't take weed from just anyone."
Evan laughs in agreement and fist bumps me, "You got that right. What can I get ya? How about a shot of our most expensive tequila, on me? I heard about your promo, congrats!"
"Fuck yeah, dog, thanks! Hit me with it!"
Evan grabs a shot glass and pours their most expensive tequila into it and slides it to me.
I don't even think or blink twice before downing the liquid poison and feeling the old familiar toxic burn slide down my throat to be on its way to ruin my liver. I grab a lime from one of the bar caddies and suck on it, vigorously shaking my head from the tartness.
"Gimme another!" I yell to him over the loud crowds in the building.
"You sure? This one is on you. I can't afford two of these, man," Evan says laughing.
"Yeah! In fact, I see that the bottle is majority full. I wanna buy the rest! Call it a promotion gift to myself!"
"Hell yeah! Your boys will love this! They're over at the DDR by the way."
"My boys"? They didn't pay for this bottle. This shit is mine.
Evan rings up my bottle and hands it to me, also giving me a special shot glass that comes with it.
I immediately uncork the bottle and pour myself another shot, quickly chug it, then three more. You ever been cross faded before? If you haven't, don't. I'm about to lose the last bit of control that I have left pretty soon.
This is great!
Did I mention that I hadn't eaten much of anything within the last couple hours?
Alcohol is a bitch when there's nothing in your system to counteract it. I was getting drunk fast. Especially because I had lost my tolerance that I used to take pride in since becoming sober. But in this moment, Arizona wasn't here. He retreated to the furthest corners of his mind as soon as his father rejected him again.
No, this wasn't him.
I'm the guy that comes out when Destructive Arizona wants to play. I'm just usually forced down beneath the surface. He tried to get rid of me once, but guess the fuck what, I'm still here bitch!
"Take it easy, dog, save some for your guys!" Evan says laughing but then getting distracted by the patrons and another bartender needing his help.
"Thanks, but no thanks, "dog"," I said to myself while taking advantage of not being watched anymore and glugging a long burning swig from the bottle.
How do I even still have my insides? I'm surprised a hole hasn't burned through yet.
"WOOO!! FUCK SOBRIETY!" I threw my hands up and yelled, but my voice was drowned out by the other loud sounds in the building.
I laughed and looked around the room, instantly bored from being at the bar and wanting to find something else to do.
Dance! I wanna dance!
There was already music blasting from the bar's speakers and quite a few drunk people and patrons dancing in various areas, so I decided to join them.
I didn't remember where Everett? Ethan? Eros? said my friends were, but I didn't give a fuck. I can have a dance party with my new friends here on the dancefloor!
"Hey, you're pretty hot! I love a man that dresses in all black with Vans. Can I have some of that tequila??" A pitched voice behind me said while rubbing a hand down my back and lazily whispering hot breath in my ear.
I turned and came face to face with an amber eyed scantily dressed busty blonde who currently looked like an 11 but was in actuality probably a 4 on a good day.
"Hell yeah girl!"
I allow the girl to throw back some of the tequila and as payment she kisses me. I can feel as her warm, slimy tongue forces its way into my mouth giving my own dried out tongue back the taste of my tequila but mixed in with the onion on her breath.
Had Arizona been in control, he would have immediately pushed this strange nasty woman off of him and gagged, but like I said, he's not here.
We sloppily makeout for another ten seconds when the blonde pulls away to catch her breath, a string of spit follows with her.
"I got next!" Another voice, this time deeper, on my right yells.
My bottle is taken from my hand and I watch as a "very hetero with his frat bros but so obviously gay and they just don't know it yet" heavily drunk looking college aged boy downs at least two shots worth of my expensive liquor.
"Fuck! That stings like a bitch! That's some good ass alcohol! Woo!" He says pumping his fist to the bass thumping beat, "I wanna makeout! You're way hot and my friends are nowhere in sight. There's so many people here that they won't see me!"
Sweet, caring, responsible golden boy Arizona would have told Fratty McMasters here that making out wouldn't be a good idea. They're strangers.
I shrugged, "Sure. The more the merrier!"
Fratty instantly latched on to me with excitement. It was so obvious that he had never kissed another guy before, but that was alright, I could teach him just like Charlie taught me.
The kiss was chaotic and damp, also full of tongue, and I was over it eight seconds after it started. I pulled away from him and downed another shot worth of alcohol in order to cleanse my mouth in some way. So much stranger saliva was starting to make me want to puke.
I was about to walk away from him to possibly attempt finally finding my friends, but I was beginning to become increasingly inebriated. I honestly don't even know how I was currently still standing at this point. Arizona would have passed out a long time ago from the coke, and alcohol makes him sleepy.
"Hey, iiii don't know when I'll ever get tuh do this an I'm soooo drunk right now an probably won't even rememer doing this buuut, I wanna fuck you. I've never fucked a guy before but you're so hot. Like, reeeally hot, and I really want to right now," Fratty says grabbing me by the hand and yelling too loud in my ear, hot drunk breath warming and wetting my eardrum.
Hmm, do I really want to let a drunk guy who has no clue what he's doing, fuck me? I don't even have condoms, and who knows if he even does. But, at the same time, he's kinda cute and it will make for an interesting "first time" story for him. Plus, overall, I haven't fucked since Nova and I'm kinda horny now.
"How old are you?" I ask him. Arizona may not be here currently to be the rational logical one, but I was still sane enough to know not to fuck a teenager with a fake ID.
"Twenty-one, why? Wait, how ole are you?? Yer not a teen, are you?!" Fratty slurred.
"You have a condom?" I asked ignoring his question.
Fratty struggles to pull out his wallet from his back pocket. He opens it and searches for his "trusty" condom and shows it to me.
I snatch it, bring it up close to my eyes and force myself to focus so I can check the expiration date.
"Fine. You're lucky I'm horny," I said handing it back to him and downing more of the tequila.
We make our way to one of the restrooms near the bar and head into the larger back stall usually meant for the handicap.
Fratty locks the door and looks at me with a goofy excited grin on his face.
"Uh, my name is—" he starts, but I stop him short.
"Aht. I don't want to know your name. Matter fact, go to that sink and wash your dick and balls off. They've probably been sweating in those tight ass khakis the whole night."
He nods and unlocks the door, heading over to the sink. I watch him as he unzips his pants and pulls down his boxers to reveal a "flatter than washboard abs" ass and an already thick boner.
Gotta admit, his dick is pretty nice and will likely feel and taste good. This is about to be an adventure. Here's to hoping I won't be around tomorrow to even remember any of this though.
"Ok!" He says waddling over to me, pants still around his ankles and dick dripping water and a little precum.
"How good is your head game?" I ask him after he locks the door back.
"I've never dun it," he says.
I groan in frustration.
I'm so shitfaced and cross faded right now that I don't even care. I just wanna get sucked off.
"Time to learn," I say getting down on my knees so his dripping dick is in my face. I can already tell Fratty is super stoked because a little more precum comes out before I even start, so I lick it off, and take his dick in my mouth beginning to suck and glide my tongue over it as I push him in and out, and he starts loudly moaning.
He actually doesn't taste too bad, but that may just be the hard alcohol in my system and coke in my bloodstream talking and helping me through this.
Unsurprisingly, he doesn't last very long before he's blowing his junk in the toilet.
"Your turn," I say while unzipping my jeans and opening the flap in my boxer briefs, "Just do what I did."
Fratty bites his bottom lip and looks up at me, then back down at my semi erect penis. He immediately gets down on his knees and tries to take in my entire length in one go, practically gagging in response.
"Don't try to deep throat on the first go!" I say to him frantically, not wanting alcohol and who knows what else, vomit on me.
He stops and starts licking the sides, tip then slit, sliding my dick in and out of his mouth, and sucking, but too hard.
"You trying to pull all my future children out?"
I give him a little more direction and he starts to become a little better. I even start getting a little satisfaction out of it and becoming harder. The tiniest of drunken moans leaves my mouth as I lean my head back against the stall wall.
I even unload in his throat which he gladly swallows allowing a little that dripped to come from the corners of his mouth; but I'm soon bored and go limp.
"Ok."
He stops and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning. I pull my pants and boxers the rest of the way down and turn around for him, and grip onto the back of the toilet.
Thank goodness this place takes pride in how well they upkeep their restrooms.
I hear him as he tears open the condom wrapper and fumbles to put it on but gets there. We have no lube so I brace for impact as I bend over and direct him and can feel as he grabs my hips, spreading my ass cheeks, and tries to shove his penis in.
"Fuck, dude! Don't just ram it in! Treat it as if you were pulling daddy's precious Porsche into the garage."
Damn, was I like this for Charlie our first few times??
He listens and attempts to pull in a little smoother (well, as smooth as can be without lube) and more gentle.
Fratty starts to get the hang of it and soon enough is pumping in and out a little faster and rougher, and moaning obnoxiously.
This isn't too bad, I guess.
I still had a fourth of a bottle left of the tequila and decided to chug the rest, no matter how bad it tore up my tongue, throat, and liver, and try to head home. It was well after one in the morning by now, but I honestly had no idea how "well after" it was.
Since I didn't drive, I decided to be responsible just this once, and hail an uber. Thankfully, it took the guy all of ten minutes to get to me. That gave me enough time to vomit a couple of times behind a random Ford Taurus.
I immediately fell asleep in the backseat of my ride after drunkenly and lazily showing him my license for my address and was suddenly awoken when we finally made it who knows how much later. All I know is that I was high, drunk, and exhausted. I was so tired. Tired because of the alcohol and drugs, tired of the pain, tired of the rejection, tired of being seen as a disappointment and a failure, tired of hurting my family and Nova...
Tired of feeling like I have nothing to live for.
While shuffling through my apartment complex security gate, I pull out my phone to check the time.
3am. Shit.
17% battery, whatever.
7 missed calls and 5 texts from Dad, 9 missed calls and 3 texts from Dakota, 4 missed calls from the guys.... Well gat damn! I'm one popular bitch!
I continue shuffling towards the back of the apartment complex and walk past the pool, the shimmering and lapping sounds catching my eyes and attention.
I stop and stare at it absently and sigh. My eyes glazing over and barely able to stay open from fatigue and another impending vomit session because of the rhythmic motion.
"Perfect. I've always loved to swim."
I turn my unfocused thoughts over towards the deep end of the pool, my end goal.
Tossing my phone on one of the many plastic poolside chairs, I look towards the dark illuminated night sky as if to beg for an intervention, and step off the edge, fully clothed, into the deep end until I touch the bottom.
The water was invitingly cold in contrast to the balmy breezy air above. It filled my ears, closing out any sounds from before, leaving me lonely with my destructive thoughts. I opened my eyes and look around my final surroundings, spinning my drunken self around and around and around in the thick water until I tire myself out and stop.
I had always been an incredible swimmer and could hold my breath for almost two minutes, but my goal wasn't to swim. It wasn't to break my current breath- holding record. It was to make my father and family happy.
How do I achieve that goal? I let go.
I stopped trying to hold my breath and intake the chlorine water at a rapid pace. Filling my mouth, nose, any open orifice.
My lungs began burning like they were in a crematorium and I start to panic, but I knew that was going to be an involuntary response. My brain didn't want me to die, so it's attempting to send the last signals to my body to swim back to the surface. To safety. To life.
But that's not how I make my father and family happy.
I could feel as Arizona began trying to fight his way back to the forefront of his mind; to attempt to take back control and keep me from taking his life.
I wonder if this is how Cam felt.
The internal turmoil caused me to jerk, thrash, and scream never to be heard screams underneath the lightweight but somehow heavy water as Arizona continued to push and fight me, but ultimately, lost.
Am I still a disappointment, dad? I've done what you wanted. Will you love me now?
....Beeep....beeeep...beeeeep...
....Beeep...beeeep...beeeep...
*Siri: "Location on. Sending location to Big Brother Dakota."*