Disclaimer: not mine.
There's an island
They were going to Mallorca, they'd decided. Nikki had protested, at first -A fucking island?, she said, but then she saw the photos, the guys and the beaches, and she smirked. Think I could have a really good time, you know what I mean?, and he'd pretended to be escandalised, and she'd stuck her tongue. They'd ended up tangled on the floor, a mess of skin and arms and legs, lips searching for lips, eyes opened. It had been fun, discussing their trip. It had been great.
They won't go anywhere, now.
And, fuck, he can't help but think, if only he could still go back on time, prevent them all from selling their powers -if only he hadn't been so stupid, so selfish, such a damned asshole, she'd still be here. No trips, no new clothes, no letting that frigging job at the pub. Right. Just them, just another day being together.
He still has the tickets with him. The ones that were going to take them to the week of their lives, the ones that Nikki kept hidden -or so she thought-, that costed nearle a thousand pounds and all the life in his girlfriend's eyes. He doesn't really know why he keeps them, why he hasn't thrown them, burnt them. Maybe because they remind him of her, because one of them still has her name written on it, and he wonders if that's good, having to remember her like that. A few pictures and some clothes and an plane ticket, and all that guilt.
Kelly's still trying to talk to him. Telling him that it wasn't his fault, that they couldn't have known, that he hasn't sold Nikki's life in exchange for some holidays he isn't even having, now. Kelly's still lying to him, and the others just look at him with pity, and Alisha hugged him once -and that reminded him of everything and it was worse, it was so much worse.
Simon tried to explain him something, once. Just after Marnie's baby had gotten out of the hospital, when everyone was cooing at it and ignoring there was someone that wasn't there, that'd never meet that little person. Simon had tried to say something among the lines of I know how you feel, but it wasn't true, even if he feels -he is, somehow- guilty, too, even if everyone of them had taken part in this.
Some nights, Curtis won't sleep. It's difficult, now, it's nearly impossible -he has nightmares, he dreams about her, he know he won't see her anymore. He can't turn back time, now that he really wishes he could -now that there's something he needs to fix. He can't hold Nikki, he can't believe this has happened -he still thinks it's some kind of illusion. And he cries, those nights, and then he gets up, walks for a while. The streets are quiet, sad, the air smells like petrol. And, sometimes, he thinks he sees her, walking beside him. Sometimes. Then, she vanishes, and there's nothing.
Some nights, he wishes everything was different. He wonders if this is the beginning, if that awful future the other Simon told Alisha about is starting to take form. Some nights, he wishes he could end it all.
One night, there's a car and some drunk driving it. It runs fast, it runs like hell, it is only two or three steps on the road. He could walk there, he thinks, he could go with Nikki. He steps closer, he shuts his eyes. Breathes.
He steps back, and the car runs right in front of him, so fast it could've never been there. He can't do it.
He hasn't seen Mallorca.
Danny