Don't Forget

Brayden looked back at me with a mix of sadness and guilt plaguing his eyes. I knew that look; it was similar to the one he’d given me when he informed me it was time to leave his house for good. My stomach dropped and twisted.

“C’mere,” he sighed as he scratched at the back of his head. I wearily dragged my heavy feet to his table and took the seat Scott had been occupying.

“Yeh know Scott?” I asked suspiciously.

He furrowed his brow in momentary confusion before he straightened up and spoke. “Aye,” he admitted. His tone was extremely discouraging. I crossed my arms and tried at a condescending smile as I leaned back in my seat.

“So wha’ now? ‘e tell yeh how much of a prick ‘e’s bein’?”

“Scott’s not a prick,” he said in his defense, catching me off guard. I watched him carefully as he fumbled with his fingers. “’e cares about yeh, yeh know.”

“Brayden,” I warned.

“Let it go!” he said, almost demandingly. “Let Oli go. Move on. ‘e’s not a shit head like the rest of the guys yeh’ve been with. Specially not like Tommy.”

I leaned forward and rested my elbows against the table. “Yeh know about Tommy?” I growled. There’s no way. My brother wouldn’t touch drugs.

He sighed and relaxed his body. “After me and Lisa I started smokin’. Tha’s it, though, miss pill popper. The fuck are yeh doin’ to yerself?”

“Let me guess,” I laughed in anger. My core was fuming. “I’m no longer welcome at yer house, yeah?”

“Chris,” he started.

“Fuckin’ say it.” He waited. I refused to hold out any longer. “Say it.”

“’e can ‘elp yeh better than I can,” he admitted. I stared at him dumbfounded and shook my head. “I know ‘im more than yeh think.”

“Is this whole town against me or somethin’? He knows Oliver, yeh realize tha’?”

“Used to,” Brayden corrected me. He immediately backed down after my eyes narrowed. “Tha’s ‘ow I know ‘im. ‘e’s from Sheffield.”

“And how can ‘e ‘elp me, oh mighty one,” I breathed. “Get me drunk? Probably fuck me in my sleep.”

He stood and pounded his hands against the table. “Trust me, okay?”

“No, yeh filthy fuckin’ liar!” I hollered. I noted an employee nervously make his way over to our table, most likely to ask us to leave. Not one person in that room wasn’t watching us. I waved him off, but he only halted for a second before continuing. “Yeh get my hopes up and invite me ‘ome jus’ to say fuck off two ‘ours later? Wha’ the fuck kind of brother are yeh?”

“One tha’ knows wha’s best,” he countered. His jaw tensed and I could tell he was gritting his teeth. Brayden never got angry with me.

“Ma’am I’m gonna ‘ave to ask yeh to leave,” the man whose name tag read Henry said softly as to not contribute even more to the scene we were creating.

“Fuck yeh,” I growled at the man. He was taken aback before repeating his request. I eventually pulled away from the table and sized him up, realizing he was only a few inches taller than me. “Fine,” I spat. He flinched backward in surprise but otherwise he didn’t budge.

“Go stay with Scott,” Brayden pleaded. “I promise, yeh need this. Yeh can trust ‘im, and yeh can trust me.”

I chuckled under my breath and snarled in his direction. “Yeh’re dead to me.”

~~~~

My insides spilt onto the side of the street. I held my gut tight to attempt to halt the flow of liquids escaping my stomach but couldn’t. I raised my other hand just to support myself against the alley that led to the most beautiful hotel in town.

I dry heaved a few more times before deciding that was all I was going to throw up and wiped my tears away from my eyes. They were definitely blood shot and throbbing from the past hour of sobbing in the fetal position on the bloody mattress. I almost wished Scott would have come out and seen how I was feeling, hoping that his guilt would be powerful enough to bring me inside and let me drink until I couldn’t relate to the Earth’s axis at all.

I fumbled in my pocket through shaking hands and tried to calm my erratic breathing as I pulled out my last pill. I unwrapped it and threw the plastic on the group before forcing the pill down my throat and wiping my mouth.

It tasted bitter; worse than Adderall by far. But I knew there was no way I was going to be able to stay out here in the cold once I started rolling.

Regrettably I dragged myself to the door keeping Scott away from the rest of the world. Before I could even raise a hand to make a sound of my presence, the door was opened and gentle hands helped me inside.

~~~~

We remained in silence for a good while, partly because he had to have known how angry I was, and the other reason being that I had begun to feel the effects of my ecstasy. He had to have noticed my balance failing, because I certainly wasn’t able to sit straight.

“Chris,” Scott started.

“Not now,” I told him as I closed my eyes and leaned against the soft couch. I crossed my legs and rested my hands that felt lighter than air against my thighs. I could feel the wind blowing outside, I could taste my tongue. My senses were heightened to a level that I almost couldn’t distinguish anymore. My scalp got cold and my hair stood on end. I’m sure I looked interesting to Scott.

“Wha’ are yeh on?” he asked knowingly. “Meth or somethin’?”

“Please don’ ruin this,” I told him calmly as my two index fingers crossed into the shape of an ‘x’.

He sighed sharply and I felt his weight lift from the couch. I heard each footstep as he retrieved something from the kitchen. I didn’t allow my eyes to open until he roughly set the bottle of whiskey we’d half finished on the coffee table. “Ecstasy? Yeh lucky arse.” I couldn’t help but to smile at his reaction that I didn’t expect. I had prepared for a lecture. “Mind if I drink then?”

“No,” I sang softly. “May I join?”

“No,” he stated honestly as I watched him take his first drink. “We need to talk.”

“Can it wait?” I asked hopefully, begging in my head that he wouldn’t ruin yet another high for me; especially one I’d degraded myself so badly for. He shook his head. I wanted to light those glasses on fire. “Why did yeh ‘ave those off earlier but refuse to around me?”

He smiled and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, chewing on it softly. “Yeh make me nervous I guess.”

A chill ran up my spine. “I told yeh I’m not gettin’ ‘urt again.”

“Chris,” he laughed, taking another long drink before building up the courage to speak again. “Yeh’re killin’ me.”

“Wha’ did yeh tell my brother?” I changed the subject at my first chance.

“I’ve known ‘im a while. I’ve known who yeh are, but not in a creepy way,” he was sure to add. “Me and yer brother used to go to shows together often. I initially started talkin’ to yeh to let ‘im know tha’ yeh were doin’ okay-”

“Cause he didn’ ‘ave the balls to find out himself,” I breathed, trying to stay calm. I was slipping further and further into my high and I loved it.

“But it backfired,” he said blatantly. “I grew feelin’s for yeh. Brayden told me it’s been three years since yeh left Sheffield. Yeh don’ think tha’s long enough to, yeh know, get over things?”

“People can’t ‘elp how they heal, Scott,” I reasoned. He was beginning to pinch a nerve. Behind my closed eyes darkness started to cloud my memories and beautiful images I was watching. I didn’t like this.

I felt his hand on my knee and immediately pulled away as my eyes shot open. He backed off apologetically and handed me the bottle. I graciously pulled nearly a fourth of it until he pried it from my hands. “Thanks.”

“Yer welcome, love,” he nodded, watching me carefully. “Why won’ yeh give me a chance?”

I gulped and hunched forward, grabbing at my aching head with both hands. He started to speak again but I shot an arm out, hitting some part of him just barely. “Leave it alone.”

“I’m serious.”

I watched a few drops of moisture splash against my pants. When did I start crying? “I’m goin’ to bed.”

And that was it; he didn’t say anything more. He didn’t stop me. Once I’d entered his room and locked the door behind me I heard him click the television on. I heard him mumbled something under his breath, and I noted the sound of the bottle hitting the table again.

My high consumed me in a fit of sorrow as my body wretched forward and I fell to my knees. I know Scott heard, but he didn’t come to my aid; that I was thankful for. I didn’t need another Oliver; I didn’t need more heartbreak. He already lied, proved everything I knew about him was wrong or at least not entirely true. My hands clutched the carpet below me as I started pulling myself into the bathroom. I didn’t bother flicking the light on; I just fell, half on tile floor and still keeping my legs on the carpet in the bedroom. I disappeared into my high, listening to nothing but the static of the TV and the clanking of glasses in the kitchen.