Status: Active.
Sweet Misery
Chapter 8
Hayley’s POV
“I’ll see you later?” John asks hopefully. This is a mistake. Not leaving as soon as I saw him in iHop was a mistake. Bringing up his girlfriend was a mistake. I just couldn’t help it. The way he asked about Chad seemed like he was mocking me. But his question only confirmed my questions. How do Chad and I look to the outside world? I’ve spent countless days and nights, wasting my precious time that could’ve been used for sleeping trying to visualize how we look like to others. Does someone know? The way John assumed that I loved Chad, brought on a flood of memories that I tried so hard to keep out of my head. But now that I’m alone, I can’t escape. I did love him, once. When Chad first laid a hand on me I always reassured myself that he loved me and I loved him. I always held on to the silly 4 letter word, clinging to it as my life preserver. But I was right on the edge. Chad kept pushing me to the tip of the cliff, but it was me who took the fall. I brought myself here, I could’ve saved myself, maybe even go to Jeremy or Taylor as soon as he hit me. But I didn’t, something inside of me made me stay. There was a tiny spark of hope in me, and it kept me going.
When I was a little girl, my parents split up and a few years later both of them remarried. Whenever I asked my mother why she wasn’t with dad anymore, she always gave me the same answer. “No woman should ever stay with a man who doesn’t treat her right.” Ever since then, love has been a weird topic for me to address. Because I had never really experienced it for myself, only witnessed it fall apart. I had no idea that years later I would firsthand experience love, only for it to fall apart right at my bare hands, along with my own life. I don’t know what I’m doing. Who, or should I say, what am I trying to prove by befriending John? I’m perfectly content with being alone. I like having time to myself, even if sometimes it feels like too much time. I’ve had so much time, I could’ve left Chad so long ago. That’s my biggest regret because I’ve had so many chances. I often daydream about a place that’s to come. Where Chad is out of my life for good, and maybe the guys and I managed to get a new album out. How long has it been since I’ve picked up a pen or paper to write down what I’m feeling? Too long. I envy the Hayley in those dreams, because she seems so happy and content with life. No worries, no sadness. She is at peace. Time is a funny thing. I’ve seem to wasted a lot of it.
“Later.” I confirm, before fumbling my keys out of my bag. I give John one more glance and he’s watching me. He looks like he wants to say more, and I save his breathe by unlocking the door and closing it again in one swift motion while I quickly slip inside. Shutting the door behind me, I lock it once more. I’m greeted with silence. I look around the house to find it vacant of any presence except for my own. Looking around the empty house, my voice echoes off the wall and bounces around the room as a faint “Hello” comes out of my mouth. No one responds. I breathe a sigh of relief now that I’ve confirmed that I am literally alone for the night. But I have to clean up the mess first. Chad comes home either a) drunk or b) high. Either way, he never fails in attacking me verbally and physically. Cleaning is my twisted form of therapy. Chad never cleans up after himself and I need something to help me let out some form of pent up emotion. So I clean. Washing the dishes, vacuuming the carpet, mopping the kitchen floor, polishing the counters, dusting the silverware. Anything. I think of the things I’m cleaning as my life. And when I’m finished, I have this hopeless hope that somehow it really is just that easy. But it isn’t. I throw away remainders of food and wrappers from the tables. Judging by the trash Chad and his friends made that they were watching the game. I fluff the pillows, straighten the pictures and artwork hanging on the wall, put the game controllers back in their designated places. Almost everything in this house is his. I miss my old home terribly. There is not a thing here that is mine except for my clothes. When we first bought this house, I was so excited to be able to decorate it as I wanted but we were always so busy it just stayed empty. (Except for a few pieces of furniture that the previous owners generously gave to us.) But then I got so preoccupied in stuff that I never got a chance. After a while, I notice my movements are slower and my eyelids are fighting to stay up. I’ve been cleaning for over an hour now and the house smells of cleaning products and detergent. Wiping my brow with the back of my free hand, I begin putting all the supplies away and making the trek up the stairs to the bedroom. My eyes fly open and now I’m definitely awake as I open the bedroom door to reveal Chad on the bed. I’m paralyzed with fear and my feet are stuck in the spot they are in now. Only then do I hear his soft, even breathing fill the room do I let out the breathe I was holding in. He’s sleeping. I quietly remove my clothes from the day and change into my pajama pants and an old Paramore shirt from 2005. Softly moving the covers back a bit, I crawl into the space next to Chad and scoot a bit closer to the edge of the bed, facing my back towards him. I close my eyes and allow myself to sleep.
+++
“Hayley.” Chad kicks the bed. I awake with a jump. Attempting to wipe the sleep from my eyes, I take a look at the clock. 8 AM. “I’m going to rehearsals.” I nod weakly.
“Do you want anything to take with you for lunch?” I ask knowingly. Since I slept in and couldn’t make him breakfast, he is going to be cranky and starved. One thing I’ve learned is that he eats, a lot. And I’m his personal, tortured chef.
“No, I’ll eat out with the guys.” He grabs his jacket, and abruptly walks out of the room. I wait until I hear the front door shut. I jump out of bed, eager to get on with the day and not having to worry about Chad. I pack my bag with a few things, my phone, a compact mirror and a mini makeup kit. I walk over to the bookshelf located right next to the bed and grab a random book, shoving it in my bag and fast walking down the stairs. Walking out the front door, I close and lock it and then begin the trek to Nina’s Cafe.
+++
“Seeing someone lose it like that. You know, it reminded me of how I feel sometimes. Like I'm on the verge of just blowing up. All the stress and pressure and anxiety just bubbling up. But I'm never able to let it out like that. You know, I just keep it inside.” I set my book down, folding the corner of the page I’m currently reading and close it. I pick up my cup to take another sip of my tea, only to find that it’s empty. There are 2 other teacups resting on the table. I think I’ve had enough now. A chair scrapes on the floor in front of me and becomes occupied by a red-headed boy. Only he is less artificial red than I am, he’s pure natural ginger. He studies me closely for a few moments, making me uncomfortable and shift in my seat slightly.
“Hayley?” He asks.
“Yes.” I squeak out. Clearing my throat, I repeat my answer more strongly. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry.” He laughs. “I’m Jared.” The name turns on a light bulb inside of my brain. Jared. He’s one of the names John mentioned to me.
“I’m Hayley.” I reply, feeling a bit at ease.
“This is awkward, I’m sorry.”
I open my mouth to answer, reassuring him that it’s not as bad as he thinks when a manly, yet high pitched shrilly voice cuts me off before I can even begin my sentence.
“THEY DIDN’T HAVE CUPCAKES, WHAT KIND OF CAFE DOESN’T HAVE CUPCAKES?!” The voice roars. A boy comes up besides Jared and steals a chair from a nearby table, sitting down next to us. He’s awfully skinny, and has hair longer than I do. It’s more of a rats nest than actual hair, really. It’s so knotted and stringy.
“Pat, shut up.” Jared says. Now I have a name to the face/voice.
“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO PROPERLY FUNCTION WITHOUT MY DAILY CONSUMPTION OF..” He breaks off in the middle of his sentence, finally realizing that I even exist. “Hi, I’m Pat.” Offering me a warm smile, he continues on with his rant. “..CUPCAKES! WHAT TYPE OF WORLD IS THIS?!” A few other people who were also occupying seats in the cafe stare at all three of us, bewildered and alarmed by Pat’s outburst. Trying to ignore Pat’s screamfest, I offer Jared a reassuring smile saying It’s okay, he’s not that strange. Waving over a nearby waitress, I order a “whipped chocolate” and wait until she comes back to let my eyes meet with Pat and Jared’s. Confusion fills their eyes, no doubt wondering what exactly a “whipped chocolate” is. It’s only when she comes back, laying the small plate on the table, is when Pat begins to scream again, only out of joy. Shoveling the cupcake down his throat, it disappears in less than a minute.
“H-how in the.... What?” Jared stutters.
“They have a whole secret menu, I’m a regular here and I know my stuff.”
“You’re my new best friend!” Pat exclaims. I laugh softly to myself, looking at Jared who is still surprised and Pat who has a shit eating grin plastered onto his face.
“I’m Hayley.” I reach my hand out to Pat, who accepts it with his own and shakes it firmly.
“I’ll see you later?” John asks hopefully. This is a mistake. Not leaving as soon as I saw him in iHop was a mistake. Bringing up his girlfriend was a mistake. I just couldn’t help it. The way he asked about Chad seemed like he was mocking me. But his question only confirmed my questions. How do Chad and I look to the outside world? I’ve spent countless days and nights, wasting my precious time that could’ve been used for sleeping trying to visualize how we look like to others. Does someone know? The way John assumed that I loved Chad, brought on a flood of memories that I tried so hard to keep out of my head. But now that I’m alone, I can’t escape. I did love him, once. When Chad first laid a hand on me I always reassured myself that he loved me and I loved him. I always held on to the silly 4 letter word, clinging to it as my life preserver. But I was right on the edge. Chad kept pushing me to the tip of the cliff, but it was me who took the fall. I brought myself here, I could’ve saved myself, maybe even go to Jeremy or Taylor as soon as he hit me. But I didn’t, something inside of me made me stay. There was a tiny spark of hope in me, and it kept me going.
When I was a little girl, my parents split up and a few years later both of them remarried. Whenever I asked my mother why she wasn’t with dad anymore, she always gave me the same answer. “No woman should ever stay with a man who doesn’t treat her right.” Ever since then, love has been a weird topic for me to address. Because I had never really experienced it for myself, only witnessed it fall apart. I had no idea that years later I would firsthand experience love, only for it to fall apart right at my bare hands, along with my own life. I don’t know what I’m doing. Who, or should I say, what am I trying to prove by befriending John? I’m perfectly content with being alone. I like having time to myself, even if sometimes it feels like too much time. I’ve had so much time, I could’ve left Chad so long ago. That’s my biggest regret because I’ve had so many chances. I often daydream about a place that’s to come. Where Chad is out of my life for good, and maybe the guys and I managed to get a new album out. How long has it been since I’ve picked up a pen or paper to write down what I’m feeling? Too long. I envy the Hayley in those dreams, because she seems so happy and content with life. No worries, no sadness. She is at peace. Time is a funny thing. I’ve seem to wasted a lot of it.
“Later.” I confirm, before fumbling my keys out of my bag. I give John one more glance and he’s watching me. He looks like he wants to say more, and I save his breathe by unlocking the door and closing it again in one swift motion while I quickly slip inside. Shutting the door behind me, I lock it once more. I’m greeted with silence. I look around the house to find it vacant of any presence except for my own. Looking around the empty house, my voice echoes off the wall and bounces around the room as a faint “Hello” comes out of my mouth. No one responds. I breathe a sigh of relief now that I’ve confirmed that I am literally alone for the night. But I have to clean up the mess first. Chad comes home either a) drunk or b) high. Either way, he never fails in attacking me verbally and physically. Cleaning is my twisted form of therapy. Chad never cleans up after himself and I need something to help me let out some form of pent up emotion. So I clean. Washing the dishes, vacuuming the carpet, mopping the kitchen floor, polishing the counters, dusting the silverware. Anything. I think of the things I’m cleaning as my life. And when I’m finished, I have this hopeless hope that somehow it really is just that easy. But it isn’t. I throw away remainders of food and wrappers from the tables. Judging by the trash Chad and his friends made that they were watching the game. I fluff the pillows, straighten the pictures and artwork hanging on the wall, put the game controllers back in their designated places. Almost everything in this house is his. I miss my old home terribly. There is not a thing here that is mine except for my clothes. When we first bought this house, I was so excited to be able to decorate it as I wanted but we were always so busy it just stayed empty. (Except for a few pieces of furniture that the previous owners generously gave to us.) But then I got so preoccupied in stuff that I never got a chance. After a while, I notice my movements are slower and my eyelids are fighting to stay up. I’ve been cleaning for over an hour now and the house smells of cleaning products and detergent. Wiping my brow with the back of my free hand, I begin putting all the supplies away and making the trek up the stairs to the bedroom. My eyes fly open and now I’m definitely awake as I open the bedroom door to reveal Chad on the bed. I’m paralyzed with fear and my feet are stuck in the spot they are in now. Only then do I hear his soft, even breathing fill the room do I let out the breathe I was holding in. He’s sleeping. I quietly remove my clothes from the day and change into my pajama pants and an old Paramore shirt from 2005. Softly moving the covers back a bit, I crawl into the space next to Chad and scoot a bit closer to the edge of the bed, facing my back towards him. I close my eyes and allow myself to sleep.
+++
“Hayley.” Chad kicks the bed. I awake with a jump. Attempting to wipe the sleep from my eyes, I take a look at the clock. 8 AM. “I’m going to rehearsals.” I nod weakly.
“Do you want anything to take with you for lunch?” I ask knowingly. Since I slept in and couldn’t make him breakfast, he is going to be cranky and starved. One thing I’ve learned is that he eats, a lot. And I’m his personal, tortured chef.
“No, I’ll eat out with the guys.” He grabs his jacket, and abruptly walks out of the room. I wait until I hear the front door shut. I jump out of bed, eager to get on with the day and not having to worry about Chad. I pack my bag with a few things, my phone, a compact mirror and a mini makeup kit. I walk over to the bookshelf located right next to the bed and grab a random book, shoving it in my bag and fast walking down the stairs. Walking out the front door, I close and lock it and then begin the trek to Nina’s Cafe.
+++
“Seeing someone lose it like that. You know, it reminded me of how I feel sometimes. Like I'm on the verge of just blowing up. All the stress and pressure and anxiety just bubbling up. But I'm never able to let it out like that. You know, I just keep it inside.” I set my book down, folding the corner of the page I’m currently reading and close it. I pick up my cup to take another sip of my tea, only to find that it’s empty. There are 2 other teacups resting on the table. I think I’ve had enough now. A chair scrapes on the floor in front of me and becomes occupied by a red-headed boy. Only he is less artificial red than I am, he’s pure natural ginger. He studies me closely for a few moments, making me uncomfortable and shift in my seat slightly.
“Hayley?” He asks.
“Yes.” I squeak out. Clearing my throat, I repeat my answer more strongly. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry.” He laughs. “I’m Jared.” The name turns on a light bulb inside of my brain. Jared. He’s one of the names John mentioned to me.
“I’m Hayley.” I reply, feeling a bit at ease.
“This is awkward, I’m sorry.”
I open my mouth to answer, reassuring him that it’s not as bad as he thinks when a manly, yet high pitched shrilly voice cuts me off before I can even begin my sentence.
“THEY DIDN’T HAVE CUPCAKES, WHAT KIND OF CAFE DOESN’T HAVE CUPCAKES?!” The voice roars. A boy comes up besides Jared and steals a chair from a nearby table, sitting down next to us. He’s awfully skinny, and has hair longer than I do. It’s more of a rats nest than actual hair, really. It’s so knotted and stringy.
“Pat, shut up.” Jared says. Now I have a name to the face/voice.
“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO PROPERLY FUNCTION WITHOUT MY DAILY CONSUMPTION OF..” He breaks off in the middle of his sentence, finally realizing that I even exist. “Hi, I’m Pat.” Offering me a warm smile, he continues on with his rant. “..CUPCAKES! WHAT TYPE OF WORLD IS THIS?!” A few other people who were also occupying seats in the cafe stare at all three of us, bewildered and alarmed by Pat’s outburst. Trying to ignore Pat’s screamfest, I offer Jared a reassuring smile saying It’s okay, he’s not that strange. Waving over a nearby waitress, I order a “whipped chocolate” and wait until she comes back to let my eyes meet with Pat and Jared’s. Confusion fills their eyes, no doubt wondering what exactly a “whipped chocolate” is. It’s only when she comes back, laying the small plate on the table, is when Pat begins to scream again, only out of joy. Shoveling the cupcake down his throat, it disappears in less than a minute.
“H-how in the.... What?” Jared stutters.
“They have a whole secret menu, I’m a regular here and I know my stuff.”
“You’re my new best friend!” Pat exclaims. I laugh softly to myself, looking at Jared who is still surprised and Pat who has a shit eating grin plastered onto his face.
“I’m Hayley.” I reach my hand out to Pat, who accepts it with his own and shakes it firmly.
♠ ♠ ♠
It's been WAY too long, sorry about that! This chapter was weird, I kept writing and re-writing it. I didn't really know where to end this chapter, so I'm sorry if this is all over the place and weird. But I'm so excited to finally get Jared and Pat into the story. The rest of The Maine will come in soon, but it was fun writing Pat's shenanigans. Gotta love that boy.Let me know what you think!
P.S Anyone know what book Hayley is reading in this chapter?