Day 49
Three days.
Two and a half, to be exact, we spent here, in Bucharest. It truly is a city of contrast and incredible nightlife. We also stayed two and a half -almost three- days in Budapest.
Five days ago, Theo called. For over 120 hours, life's been happening to me. Again.
I don't recollect anything from these past days. I perceive we went to most tourist attractions, tried different food, Arianna taped her videos. But my memories are blurred, I cannot identify an action, not even the places we visited. It's a black gap in my head.
Similar to before. Nothing non-academic from high school and a large part of college, other than the spectacle highlights have been saved in my brain. I know I studied, but how long, or other things I did along with it, is missing in my memory. Did I read, or slept? Maybe watched movies. They're forgotten.
Once I told my psychiatrist I have no memories of my actions in the past week, like at all. He said it's a side effect of depression and then doubled my dose.
I think I tried to behave in a manner that everything's fine. That I'm fine. Although I can't remember how convincing of an act I put up.
Everything is in slow motion, but yet too fast to process. Nothing feels real. Me, the other three. The locations we traveled to, the things we did. None of them seemed real.
Jennifer Niven in All The Bright Places had named this state nicely: Awake and Sleep.
I wasn't awake; I was asleep.
I stare at the dark sky visible from the window. For how long, I cannot tell, but when I glance at the watch hanging on the wall, it reads past midnight.
I push myself to my feet, I should try to sleep. That's something I'm in desperate need of. But I either can't or rather not to, with all the nightmares.
I must pull myself together before it gets too late and Arianna, Dylan, and Adrien realize what a wreck I am.
Shifting my weight from one leg to the other, I stand next to the nightstand, contemplating my following decision.
I shove my hand through my mess of curls. Walks always clear my mind. And it's not like I'm sleepy, just tired.
At least I can do whatever I want, without needing to explain myself to anybody.
I pick my keycard and tread out of my room, making my way to the elevator. Soon I find myself walking towards the back door, leading to the garden.
The chill in the warm night is pleasant on my skin. The smell of earth and plants filling my nostrils as I walk deeper into the garden on the paved path.
I tuck my hands into my pants pockets.
Thinking about it, I cannot understand why I didn't die after taking all those pills. It's silly, but I can't help considering it. Nothing good has happened after that. If I had died, I never had to go through pain.
And what's the point of living, anyway?
Dead people are always loved. It's as if the moment you bury someone, all the negative things regarding them get buried along with them. Although I would much rather be lost in oblivion than remaining in untrue memories.
I shake my head as I try to shove it aside. I need to stop pondering over it, and pretend I'm fine before others get sick of me.
Focusing on not stepping on the cracks of the pavement, my brain soon goes empty.
"Eleanor?"
I pause and turn. Adrien is sitting across me, on a short wall separating us from whatever on the other side.
"Sit with me?" he speaks in a loud voice but sounds unsure.
I can't not go to him now, that'll make everything weird and awkward.
I push my glasses up my nose and take the shortest route to him. As I near him, I notice the packet of cigarette and lighter lying next to him. The distant lights of the hotel's building reach here in the bare minimum, along with the light stands dimly illuminating the area. I haul myself up on the wall, its width wide enough that a person can sleep on it. I sit on his left. The smell of smoke attacks my senses. His golden-brown hair unruly, dark circles under tired but sharp eyes.
We remain in complete silence. To my surprise, it's not as awkward as I'd expected it to be.
It has a nice view, on one side it's the hotel and the rest is green.
"Wanna talk?" he asks after a while.
"About?"
He shrugs, eyes wandering around the place. The quietude stretches on and then he suggests in a stronger tone, "Thoughts?"
I urge myself to pull my eyebrows together in confusion. I'm too drained to even move a single muscle, to produce a simple thought. But I don't want him or anyone to know that.
"Anything that pops in mind or just whatever you feel like saying," he explains, glancing at me sideways.
I nod once.
He exhales, "I guess you won't start first," he acknowledges, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards into a faint smile.
I force myself to smile, the muscles in my face protest against the attempt, resulting in a slight arch of my lips.
"I was thinking about Jay," he states.
My head snaps to him. That was the last thing I was expecting to hear. By the looks of it, he's not planning on having small talks, that I'm sure of. Otherwise, why would he start with something like that?
His thumb and middle finger fidgeting together. He draws a sharp breath, "I miss him," he admits softly, eyes set ahead.
He appears so fragile; I look away from him, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.
"Talking, being social, knowing what to do. Always saying the right words. He was great at those, it came naturally to him."
It was impossible to not enjoy his company. I remember.
I miss him too. The gap made by his death never filled. Which makes me wonder if he was alive, would've he done the same as Theo did?
I never would have believed one day Theodor would label me with those names. I guess Jace would've gotten sick of me too and I'd have lost him as well. I dig my nails in my palm.
"I still suck at those," Adrien speaks with a breathy laugh, breaking my chain of thoughts. I watch him with surprise. "I was always the awkward one,"
What does he mean? He's been popular forever. Even more than Jace!
A sad smile forms on his face. "In high school, half through middle school, I decided that I want to be like my brother, be a part of the cool kids. So I started acting like him. Before speaking or doing anything, I'd think if Jay would do that or not, or what would he do and say. It was hard, but then I got a hang of it. I improved at being Jaceon, because I was sure no one would prefer me. I wanted to be as good as him in something. Not better, just to be the same. Because I knew I could never be better than him. That he'd always be the first in everything, including being everyone's favorite. No one likes awkward or shy guys, because they are supposed to be bold and tough."
I dare myself to draw my gaze to him. Eyes fixed on his hands, he looks vulnerable and lost. Never had I considered he would feel alone to this extent.
It makes sense now more than ever. The anger and frustration. His laid back demeanor, the titles of bad boy, reckless, and emotionless, all earned because of him hiding his true self behind a bunch of layers and masks.
"I began paying attention to what the other popular kids did and how they spoke so I could act like them. If I hadn't, everyone would have noticed how I can't even talk properly. If I try to solve a situation by talking my way through it, I would screw it up so badly that nobody would be able to fix it." Another half-hearted laugh stumbles out of his mouth. He pushes his fingers through his hair and adds, "you've seen that quite a few times,"
And for the first time, I imagine myself in his shoes and my heart clenches at the hardships he had to undergo.
Knowing that you're not accepted. To have a handful of people around you, you must pretend to be someone else. The pain of accepting this as a vital truth of your life. As a part of who you are. I'm familiar with them all too well. Adrien's been through it too, or still going through it, and I never thought I would feel a heart-wrenching ache for him.
Why did I not once consider him being forced to contend with such a rough phase? Maybe because everything on the outside about him seems perfect. Perhaps it's because he never shows any sort of emotions.
He turns to me, Adam's apple bobbing, and locks his jade eyes with mine. Unreadable emotion clouding his features, "But yet I'm sometimes clueless. And I can't help but wonder if Jay was here, would he have been able to do something? Speak the right words that need to be said. Because I want to, but I don't know how. Would've he been capable of figuring it out? Or would've he been just as helpless as I am? You can't imagine all the things I want to express, but not have a single idea how to give voice to them," he speaks, his tone thick with anguish. The intensity of his gaze stops me from breaking the eye contact.
We stay in that state for what seems like a forever summed up in a nanosecond.
I look away first, pushing my glasses higher up my nose. My fingers tangle together as my heart beats faster.
I'm not the center of the world, but what if his speech was pointing at me, indirectly? That the way I've been in the past few days has got him to think, and led him to share these words with me.
If it is because of me, how much of a spiteful being am I willing to turn to before giving up and letting go?
I cause distress for anyone who gets close to me.
His eyes burn through me as if urging me to utter even a word.
If only he was aware. My head is as empty as a blank sheet of paper.
A blanket of silence falls on us. Seconds stretch into minutes, until he shifts and in a lighter voice informs, "It's your turn." That side of him is gone again.
With a vacant mind, I stare at a spot on the ground. There are no words to align.
I try to shrug or tell him I have nothing for replying, but my body refuses to do anything.
We fall back into the quiet void, neither of us speaking. The only sound created by the crickets.
I hate crickets. More specifically, I hate insects. But it's such a trivial fact to say out loud, after what Adrien said.
Maybe he didn't do it intentionally. Perhaps he needed to get that off of his chest. As I remind myself, the world doesn't revolve around me.
The moments stretch on. After a while, from the corner of my eye, I notice him beaming.
A broad smile curving his mouth. He pushes his hand through his hair, and talks, "Couple of years ago, I was drawing this picture. At the time, I was sure it's one of my bests. Red was one of its vital colors," he stops and I face him with narrowed eyes, as he keeps on grinning. "Anyway, I ran out of red paint, and I didn't want to order and wait for it. And I wasn't allowed to touch my mom's stuff, so I tried to come up with an alternative way. The choice turned out to be Rachel's brand new set of makeup that had arrived that morning. I didn't know such a thing as custom made existed for a stupid item like makeup. But it did and it was from her favorite stylist," he pauses, a toothy grin on his face. And I find myself lips tugging upwards the slightest. "So, thinking I'm a genius or something, I picked her new red lipsticks and any other coloring product, and started completing the painting with them. The best part was, she had a date that night with this guy she'd been crushing on for years." he laughs. "I had to run for my life and hid in Ri's house. Stayed there for a week until the murder phase passed,"
I cover my lips as giggles bubble out of me. I've seen Rachel two times, but on both occasions, she was very reserved yet graceful; I can only imagine what happened.
From there, he began telling me the things he'd done, that in his head seemed mind-blowing but in action turned into disasters. Including the time he painted his car and Jace's. Needless to say, it did not turn out well. Somewhere in the middle, I catch myself laughing with him without a care in the world. I haven't been this calm and at ease in the past few days.
As our laughter dies out, we fall into a comfortable silence.
He shifts on his spot, fishing out his phone, with his wired earbuds wrapped around it, he waves it, "Music?" he offers.
I nod as he untangles the wire and gives one earpiece to me as he sticks the other in his own ear. "Wanna choose?" he asks, unlocking his iPhone and looking at me. As usual, I shake my head no.
I place the earbud and Leave Out All The Rest by Linkin Park starts playing. It still surprises me how our taste is so similar.
We sit there, listening to same music, but lost in different worlds created by our minds.
The song ends and In The Dark by Bring Me the Horizon plays; I try my best to keep the storm of thoughts at bay. My fingers drum on the ledge of the wall we're sitting on.
Somewhere I Belong starts and I'm left wondering if the playlist is on purpose, pushing me into that black smoke of whirlwind in my skull.
'I wanna heal, I wanna feel'
The music turns into a background tune as Theodor's words replay in my head. How he accused me of faking it just for attention? Maybe I deserve it.
'I wanna find something I've wanted all along
Somewhere I belong
I will never know myself until I do this on my own
I will never feel anything till I break away from me
I will break away, I'll find myself today'
Why can't Theodor understand me? If there's a song over it, it can't be a foreign emotion, but yet he refuses to even listen to me. First calling it word manipulation and then sick and immature.
When I pull myself back to reality, Heavy is playing.
'I've been dragging around what's bringing me down
If I just let go, I'd be set free'
I remember the first time I heard it. The first thought I had. And the following times, along with the same chain of thoughts.
If only I'd let go. It'll be over and I'll be free. But I don't understand why I'm holding on. I can give up and let go of everything, even tonight. Then what's keeping me back? My lack of mental capacity for another failed attempt? Or is it the slightest bit of hope?
Hope of ameliorating. That Theo would call saying he didn't mean those things. That I am good enough for something, and not better off dead.
Is it foolish?
But it sure is hard to hold on to a thin, fringing rope of hope.
'I'm Holding on
Why is everything so heavy
Holding on
To so much more than I can carry'
Bennington's voice pierces through me. Everyone hears, but no one listens. Not even when you're a famous singer-songwriter and screaming what's going inside your mind.
I wonder if Theodor accepted my apology. But maybe he assumed it means that he's right, that I'm pretending or not trying to get better. Either way, I hope he did, because I meant it.
I would have apologized to Mom, Dad, and Avery too.
Everyone's better off without me.
Adrien's warm hand finds my cold one, and that's when I realize I've been clutching the edge too tightly. My fingers hurt. He gently squeezes my hand, my fingers' stiff muscles relax.
A song I have forgotten its name from Thirty Seconds to Mars plays. Adrien's hand doesn't move and I cannot seem to find a reason to pull it away.
Minutes pass by and Bring Me the Horizon's Avalanche begins.
It's fascinating how someone arranges words in a style that describes someone else's feelings better than the person itself. Without them even knowing each other.
The odds are low. Or maybe not, since we have so much relatable content. Perhaps everyone feels the same pain produced by different causes that lead to the same conclusions. Maybe we're not as unique and special as we tend to believe.
Adrien's hand moves and his fingers engulf my palm in his. A calming warmth against my cold skin.
"Who called that day?" he asks in a tender tone, barely above a whisper. I'm surprised that I even heard him over the music. His gaze remains on our joint hand.
Too tired to think better, or various other reasons that I can't align right now. Staring at my feet, I answer him in an almost audible voice, "Theodor,"
His grasp tightens, and he intertwines his fingers with mine. I wonder how he keeps his touch firm yet gentle at the same time.
Adrien doesn't let go for the following hour or so while we sit. The music playing in our earbuds being the only source of sound on this quiet night. His presence providing an odd mixture of calmness and reassurance of not being entirely alone in this wide world. I never realized I needed it so much.
+++
((Well =))) I think this is a huge step for El since she prefers to lock everyone out when something 'bad' happens.
And as the person writing this story (cause I kinda feel weird to call myself the author of this work so yeah XD) I kinda feel bad for Adrien, I mean man, he's trying so hard to get close to her. I can't say much more because then I'll probably spoil the story (and one of the biggest upcoming plots) but I still really feel bad for him (No he's not going to die, because killing characters is not cool, but torturing them, wrecking and breaking them and forcing them through worse hell is much more satisfying XD *evil laughter* or maybe it's not?)
Movin' on, what did you think about this chapter?
I hope you enjoyed it, and thank you so much for reading, means the world to me <3
Next update: Wednesday))