I stumbled forwards as a ghost brushed by me, proudly sporting a bright orange stain on his sheets, and almost tripped over Frankenstein's monster's shoes in the process. The costumes here were cheesy and ugly but the lack of effort had it's own charm. In the corner of the room was my closest friend Mark who had showed up covered in toilet paper, that was his costume, sellotape and toilet paper and the toilet paper wasn't lasting as long as the tape was so it was beginning to look more like he'd had an accident in the bathroom and ended up with more than toilet paper attached to his shoe.
I wanted to head over to him and make some sort of joke about him being the toilet paper fairy or something but when I looked in his direction and he saw me he turned away.
I frowned. So Zackary had got to him first. That said more about Mark than it did about Zackary though. I'd always known Zackary was the sort to say whatever it took to get what he wanted, I hadn't minded, he was handsome and nice to me and I'd never really held my partners to expectations higher than those.
And even though I felt some annoyance at the fact that clearly Mark had been told Zackary's version of our break up which I was sure villainised me to maximum, and Mark had simply taken him at his word, I still wanted to clear things up with him.
Of course I would, right? He was a friend, I wanted him to think well of me.
But the moment I took a step towards him I saw him narrow his eyes and he made a pivot, turning around and heading straight into the kitchen.
I couldn't tell if that was chance or he had been watching me out of the corner of his eye but I didn't care. I didn't care that they were roommates, he was close enough to me that he had no excuse to believe Zackary over me to such an extent that he wouldn't even allow me to explain myself.
So when I turned back around and walked away, coming to terms with the fact that this ridiculous end to my four year romance with that idiot had ultimately lost me more friends than it had ever been worth, I wasn't massively pleased.
The day prior.
"You're cold and you're selfish."
"You... I don't even know how you can say that. You should be begging me to forgive you right now and you're saying I'm the problem?"
"You don't actually care."
He was right, I didn't actually care. Somehow the fact that I had gotten home in the morning to see him in bed with another definitely naked man who was, at the time, cuddling my pillow with his ripped hairy chest, it didn't matter to me. It was a shock though. But in terms of a boyfriend to a boyfriend I knew I should have cared more, I watched enough badly acted soaps to know that I didn't care nearly as much as other people did about the people I dated.
"I do care." I lied.
"You're lying. And that's the problem, you never actually care, that's why I did this, that's why everyone you ever date will always do this."
"Why the h-"
"Testing boundaries, Lake, no one knows what the hell your boundaries are!"
"You're not-"
"You don't get mad when I flirt with people but you don't flirt with people but you don't care if I leave for a month and say nothing but you don't take down our pictures. If I broke up without this happening you'd probably say goodbye without a second glance. You don't care about anyone except yourself and you know what? That sucks. It really sucks. It sucks!"
"If I'm such a shitty person why did you ever date me in the first place. Even more of a question, why date me for four years? I thought we were good together. Do I have to hunt you across the earth and pin you down and tattoo my name into your neck?"
"You could at least-"
"No. You-"
"Let me speak."
"Let me speak." I snapped. "You're spouting excuses right now. If you felt this way you could have talked to me about it. I don't need some guys balls rubbing up against my bedsheets just because you don't know what I'm thinking. That's next level messed up."
But even as I was speaking I felt a twinge of guilt settle inside me. He wasn't wrong, though, I didn't care. So what right did I have to try to make him feel guilty for cheating on me? Though I'd readily admit any day that the hygiene aspect bothered me. I didn't even want to touch the mattress after their bedtime Olympics in it.
Surely, if anything, me guilt-tripping him and getting mad at him was what he had been seeking for some time, by his own account. So I had no reason to feel bad about putting him on the spot like that, even if it was probably just a method of deflection.
But when I looked from the mattress up at Zackary's face and saw the tears swimming in his eyes eventually tumbling over and down his cheeks I wondered if those were my fault or his fault.
I didn't know what to do.
I felt helpless, like a big giant lumbering around accidentally ruining and breaking things as I attempted to make my way through the dense undergrowth.
"I'm sorry." He said quietly, his low voice breaking briefly, making it squeak like a rusty wheel. "I didn't- I don't..."
Terrible, I was a terrible person. Without thinking about it I drew him in close to me and hugged him tightly.
"It's okay." I said quietly.
"It is?" He asked, all the hope in his voice bleeding out into the quiet room.
I frowned, pulling away but keeping my arms around him. "I'm not angry at you-" I quickly amended the sentence; "anymore... But I'm obviously breaking up with you."
I saw the spark of anger in his eyes flash like a sparkler before he shoved me half and I stumbled backwards, my footsteps loud on the hardwood floor. "Fuck you!" He glared at me.
My eyebrows pointed towards the centre of my forehead, my forehead creasing in response. "Why? I'm forgiving you but Zack, of course we're breaking up, why would we stay together after this?"
"Why the fuck do we have to break up!" He screamed at me, more tears threatening to fall from those big brown eyes of his.
There was a brief pause before I recollected myself. "Because... I... Well I don't know, that's what people do. If you cheat on me once what says you won't cheat on me again kind of thing."
He glared at me fiercely. "What's the point in you saying you forgive me if you still want to trash our whole relationship at one little mistake that doesn't even bother you." He stepped forwards and shoved me hard, but my taller form didn't go backwards as easily as maybe he hoped. "I hate you. You want to break up with me? Fine. Clearly you never cared about me. I'll find someone way better than you out there... I..."
I watched him silently as he was marching towards the door and he turned around dramatically but couldn't seem to find the words to slice me in two with.
"You..." He wiped the tears off of his reddened face, seemingly infuriated, and then swung his fist out, swiping the lamp I'd had since the third year of primary school off of the desk beside the door. The poor lamp that had been so resilient for so long, seen so much and survived so many beatings, smashed onto the ground in more than a couple pieces, the wood splintering in every direction like every individual piece had just been waiting for an opportunity to make it's own way in life.
The sound alone was enough to make me believe that he was angry but he still seemed to be convinced I didn't understand.
"I can't stand you." He bit out. "Don't come near me after this. Lose my number." He opened the door. "And lose Mark's number too. Don't contact me or my friends."
I frowned. I've known Mark longer than you, I wanted to add. But it didn't matter, I was convinced he would make sure Mark would be the one sticking to his rule of me not contacting him or his friends. This wasn't up to me.
It was why I tried to call him immediately after but his phone didn't ring, out of battery, as usual. So what did it matter, I would be at the Halloween party tomorrow evening with him and I could explain everything that happened then.
[A/N] Happy Halloween to everyone. Thank you to my patrons who chose this storyline for the Halloween story. (ꈍ ⌣ ꈍㅅ)
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