Clearly

Things just aren't the same anymore.

Things just can't be undone.

Things just need to change.

Things just need to go back to the way they were.

But they can't, they won't, it's impossible.

It's over.

Everything that Pierce and I had built up, gone, all over a single argument over a boy that, in the end, did sneak his way into Pierce's life. I was thrown in the dust, left alone, allowing others to trample over my fragile body as I metaphorically continued to lay in the dirt. And lay there, and lay there, and lay there for days, until I finally found the courage to stand up and move, finishing work that should have been done days ago. I did this all to myself.

Everything's falling apart. My business is slowly dying. I don't have the obligation to get anything done anymore. I just want to be alone, wrapped in blankets, wallowing in my misery.

I don't possess the regular yearning to pick up my camera and look at the world beyond me, my lens giving me a new view point and a new set of eyes until I lower my camera once more. No, I just don't want to do it anymore.

I mean, all good things have to come to an end, right? I had to end things with Pierce and he was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I set my own heartbreak into motion, all over my petty jealousy. It makes me wonder if he's hurting just as much as I am, or am I as pathetic as I may seem? I was probably just an experiment to him anything, a toy to help him pass the time, a secret to keep since a good majority of his life was out in the open.

But it wasn't jealousy. It was knowing, fact, instances observed with my own two eyes that proved I had reason to be worried and jealous. And every time I confronted my close-minded boyfriend, he'd shake it off, saying that his friend meant us no harm. I suppose his reasoning is true, though. His friend didn't mean us any harm, his friend meant me a great deal of harm.

If he were to see me now, sitting in the corner of my printing room, lights out so that I don't damage any of my opened film canisters, he'd be throwing his head back, cackling manically in victory. He won. He claims victory. I'm broken and Pierce is out of my life. Pierce probably isn't even hurting the way I am. He didn't even flinch when I uttered those horrible words that sent my attitude, mentality, entire being into a downward spiral. He remained still, while I slowly began to crumble and get ripped apart from the inside.

For the first time ever, I had taken Pierce up on his offer to sneak my way into his household at night, no one knowing but the two of us. By now, I've had every silent entrance, exit, and escape route memorized. Pierce had showed me them all, telling me the best times to take which hallway according to the sleeping patterns of his family and the working patterns of the mansion's staff.

If it wasn't such a dreadful day, I would have laughed at the stupidity of me feeling as if I were a spy.

It had been about a month since we had met Hunter. He had begun to spend every waking minute of the day with us. We no longer had our secret dates, or our little photography lessons alone. There wasn't two of us, but three. We might as well have been in a polyamorous relationship with how much he stuck to Pierce and I's side, specifically Pierce's. Whatever Pierce wanted to do, he wanted to do and majority rule outweighs everything. If Pierce wanted me to teach him a thing or two with his new camera, Hunter would come the next day with one of his own, claiming he was just as interested as Pierce was, when the annoyed little glances my way would prove to me otherwise. He was like a desperate little girl, craving attention and doing everything in his power to get it.

It's funny, how everything is more clearly when seen through the lens of a camera. You lift it up, focus it, and press that shutter down, snapping a moment in time forever. You can catch the swaying of the trees, leaves gracefully falling to the ground in a multitude of colors. Or you can catch the stray hairs standing up on top of your lover's head as the wind blows his hair in all directions, an amused smile playing at his lips. You can catch the jealousy in the eyes of a young man standing next to your boyfriend as he focuses his attention on you and only you, him being your model. The young man had that smile on his lips, but the eyes are the portal to the soul, they speak the truth, and it was all an act. It was all too much. And as that photograph was printed, his eyes glaring daggers at me, and everything that I feared became so blatantly obvious, I knew I couldn't live the way I was anymore. I wasn't happy, I wasn't me, I was just... there, a shell of the Dalton I used to be. An obligation, no motivation.

Everything was clearer. The path I now had to take, how my future would pan out, it was all clear, even if it wasn't what I wanted. Pierce wouldn't be in it anymore.

As I gently knocked on Pierce's bedroom door, alerting him to my presence, I reflected on what our relationship had come to. I had to sneak into his home at night if I wanted any alone time with him, and by then, we were both too tired to enjoy each other's company, not even being able to stay alert throughout an entire movie. One, if not both of us, would be asleep by the end of it.

"Dalton?" He asked quietly, flipping over in his bed, squinting against the small bit of light I allowed into the room from the hallway as I quickly made my way through the door, closing it behind me. Not locking it though, I'd need a way out within minutes.

The quicker, the less painful, right?

"Hey," I whispered, walking over to his bed and folding myself onto the floor, head lazily resting against the edge of his bed.

I could feel the mattress shift against my cheek as he situated himself in my direction, a little smile on his lips as he patted the space beside him, silently asking me to join him like I had so many times before.

I shook my head, putting my arms along the edge of my bed and resting my chin against them so my head would be up straight, looking directly at him. Things like this were always harder in person, but it wouldn't be right of me to do it any other way.

He looked slightly shocked, but shook it off quickly, instead asking me what I was doing here so late.

"I wanted some alone time with you," I admitted softly. "Do you know how long it's been since we were last alone?" I asked quietly, allowing him to thread his fingers with mine since he kept grabbing at my hand like a child. He always did love how my hands were so dainty, almost feminine, compared to his monstrously strong grip.

He looked at me, rolling over a tiny bit while he attempted to figure out the answer to my simple question. "A while," he summed up.

"Exactly a month," I deadpanned. "Outside of the gazebo at your sister's birthday party."

"Oh," he said, as if remembering it all happening. I had stormed off, but called him the next day, apologizing. I thought we could work everything out, but to this day, I'm kicking myself for picking up that phone and swallowing my pride. It would have made this so much easier since that would have been the end of us, and I wouldn't have to sit back and watch someone attempt to steal the best thing that has ever happened away from me. I wouldn't have to be doing this.

"Yeah, it's been a while, eh?"

He nodded his head.

"It shouldn't have to be that way, Pierce," I summed up, gently tugging my fingers from his slender ones.

I'm gonna miss the way those fingers would dig into my hip happily when we were cuddling, or cradled my head gently when he would kiss me, bringing me to ecstasy without the need of intimate actions. Everything used to be perfect.

"I can tell Hunter that we can't have lunch tomorrow," he decided, "just the two of us."

"Hunter's coming anyway because it's a family dinner and your Dad invited him," I reminded him, anger flaring up within me at his father for concocting this elaborate scheme. The bastard. He never even invited me to anything.

"Thursday, then?" He finally asked.

I just shook my head. "How many times have you told me this, Pierce?" I finally asked, surprised that I haven't even started to tear up yet. I'm surprisingly calm, as if I don't want to show him how much this is hurting me. Alone, that's when the waterworks can commence.

He remained silent.

"I just can't do this anymore," I admitted. "I'm so, so sorry, but I can't. What we used to have, it doesn't exist anymore," I told him. "It hasn't for a while."

He sat up, his face expressionless, his eyes hard, no longer filled with the love that I had become so accustomed to.

"You deserve better," I admitted, finally standing up, not knowing what else to say. "Someone you don't have to hide, someone who your family approves of."

I turned around, walking towards the door. The thick tension in the air told me that he obviously understood the message I was sending him, and I sent a silent 'thank you' to the heavens for me not having to say those distasteful words that truly mark a break-up.

"Who, then?" He called out, almost inaudibly as I was in the process of gently closing his door, not wanting to wake anyone in the sleeping household.

I looked through the crack in the door, my eyes suddenly becoming hard, my tone dripping with venom as I stared at him, no longer the man I fell in love with, hating the name on the tip of my tongue. They won.

"Hunter," I spat, pulling the door shut and walking away, not bothering to look back as the first tear of many made its way down my cheek as I carefully made my way out of the Gordon Estate for the last time.

The mere memory brought on an onslaught of tears. I dried them uselessly, trying to console myself so I could get back to work. I have hundreds of rolls of film that need developing for his rich friends. I need the money. I need to get things done, but I don't want to.

I just don't want to do anything.

I want to sit here, in the dark, and do nothing.

Finally, once my tears dried, I slid up the wall, groaning as my joints popped and I got to work, repeating the steps that I've memorized for years. I could carry everything out in my sleep, which I practically do since the room is always pitch black.

I taught Pierce how to carry out every one of these steps in this exact room.

I shook the thought from my mind. If I have any hope in getting over him, I can't allow myself to think such things.

My hands worked by themselves, my mind too lost to lead them as I worked into the late hours of the morning, only being able to grab myself two hours of sleep before I had my next shoot. And even then, my fire was gone, I didn't wear that smile that I always used to wear when I was working with clients. It wasn't the same anymore. My passion was gone, just like the boy who had taken hold of my heart and claimed it as his own.

I paused, as my hand ran over a small pile of film canisters, completely full of pictures that still need to be developed, all of him. I pushed them aside, hearing them roll off the table as their clattering against the floor echoed around the room for what seemed like hours, though it was only a few seconds.

I have to forget him and move on with my life. I have no other choice.