Andy P.O.V
Shaun raced out and I felt myself draw back into the depression, the loneliness, the quietness; my dull, cheap new home didn't help a bit, plus the stupid weather. Maybe no one saw it, maybe I was too good at hiding emotions, maybe I was good at hiding feelings, that jealous feeling I get every time I see a couple together, first stupid Bradie with his stupid girlfriend and then stupid Shaun with...ugh, her. I hate her guts, I don't know why; I just get really jealous, more jealous than an average man should over their friend. I mean ALL my friends are in relationships and then there's me, Andy, the ultimate wingman. Maybe I don't want to be the wingman anymore, maybe I want to be a boyfriend, someone a girl can happily wake up next to, cuddled in my arms, a woman that can kiss me when my lips are lonely and a woman that will stroke my hair and make me feel content when I'm sad. I just seem to carry the disease called forever alone. I'm always so fucking confused with Shaun. I don't think I'm gay but some days, I like him a lot, I don't know if it's just my loneliness but when I see him kiss and hold Brooke, I feel the need to wish for that to be me. I swear I'm so fucked up, I bet you Shaun is reading the verse I just wrote and is thinking the exact same thing, why am I so fucked up? It started in high school, the bullying, the name calling, the rumours, after a while you begin to believe the rumours, am I gay or is it the rumours that are making me believe that I'm gay, it fucks you up, as I said, I'm fucked up now and I forbid getting help, what was the point, I'd just spiral down again, into mass depression, it takes a while, but every time I hit the ground, I seem to fall harder every time. It's crazy, isn't it? How a few things people say affects you. It's never something you're comfortable admitting, because you just want the pain to go away, will it ever go away? I'll never know.
Bradie said he was coming here to give me my dinner for the week, since I can barely cook for myself as seem to burn everything I've ever made, even ask my mum, she never lets me help cook for Christmas, she's afraid I'll chop my fingers off!
I heard a knock at the door, I bolted across the house and opened it, Bradie walked in with two green shopping bags and I suppose they're full of meals.
"Sup brother" I said, closing the door as I made my way into the worn down kitchen of my shitty home. Hey, it was the only place I could afford. Bradie took out about seven plates with different meals on each one, them all firmly wrapped in cling wrap. My meals for the week.
"Not much really, we've just moved into our apartment so Britta and I are just apartment shopping" he said happily. Glad someone was happy around here.
"anyway, these are your meals mum made, and don't eat three in one day again because then you'll have no food. Again, and I shouldn't have to tell you how the microwave works because I trust you enough that you won't blow this house up putting something on for an hour like you did with that party pie when you were twelve" He said, patronising me as if I was my little brother.
"yes Bradie, I know how a fucking microwave works" I spoke in an annoyed tone
"good" he smiled at me, stupid happy Bradie with his stupid happy life. "and how's things, apparently you caught up with Shaun today?" he continued, of course he told Bradie.
"yes, I did Bradie, why does it matter?" I asked, resting my hand on the counter.
"no reason really," he said, smiling again, but it didn't meet his eyes, his eyes were lying. I know when he lies. Those chocolate coloured eyes can't lie to me.
"Bradie, tell me the truth" I sighed "why does it matter?"
"because Shaun told me the lyrics you wrote" he said uneasy, fuck, Shaun can't keep his mouth closed for a second can he.
"Of COURSE he told you" I groaned and sat on my couch, my face in my hands, I was kind of mortified, I never wrote lyrics nor would I SHOW them to someone, I can't hide my words in loving poetry like Shaun can.
"Andy, we're both worried about you, he said you seemed upset" Bradie said concerned, sitting next to me. Maybe I wasn't good at hiding my emotions. Not when it came to Shaun anyway.
"Why would he care?" I asked in frustration
"because you're his best friend? I don't know" Bradie's clueless, absolutely clueless.
"You can't tell him why I get so upset though, okay? It's not normal for me to be upset over something like this, I'm not normal" I said, finally showing my real emotions. Bradie really knew how to dig it out of me.
"How are you not normal Andy? I don't understand" he was confused, his eyebrows knotted into the confused expression.
"And you will never, ever, understand" I spoke more darkly now, not in your typical-happy-Andy voice. My husky voice was darker, maybe sadder, I don't know. I never really spoke when I felt the depression crawl back.
"Then explain it to me" Bradie spoke softer, almost as if he was pleading to help me. Ha. I let out a deep sigh.
"I'm jealous, Bradie...I feel alone and every time I see Shaun and Brooke together, I just...don't-" I closed my eyes and shook my head to rid of the image. "I don't like seeing Shaun like that"
"are you saying you don't like seeing Shaun happy?"
"No! I want nothing better for him, but I want to be happy Bradie, and I can't be when he's with her." I admitted, it kind of felt good to get it out of my system. Bradie looked like we went into shock.
"S-So you're gay, for...Shaun?" he asked calmly, but I could tell by his tensed knuckles that he wasn't calm at all.
"I, do not know..." I spoke softer now, my hidden frustration climbed to the back of my throat as my eyes swelled, I never cry, ever, but right now I just want to let out all sobs of heartache and jealousy.
"Bradie just please...p-please don't tell him...Shaun" I said with all the normal voice I could manage, Bradie nodded then smiled at me, one of those sympathy ones, I hated it.
"I won't tell him, I promise" he placed his hand on my shoulder, assuring me as he got up and walked across my light coffee coloured, worn out carpet as he opened the white wooden door, he looked back at me, the miserable mess on the couch.
"It'll be okay, I promise and please put the food in the fridge before it goes off, it has to last a week" he reminded me, again, in an patronising voice, as if I'm his fucking child.
"I know, Bradie" I let out a sigh as he smiled slightly and left, closing the door and left me there again. Alone, in the quiet and misery my brain seemed to loath in. The quiet was soon broken by the sound of my hungry stomach, it was like thunder that would rattle a room, I hadn't eaten today. I barely eat at all, since I can't cook and I'm trying to lay off the fatty shit. I got up and walked to my shitty lil' kitchen, placing mums homemade lamb, mash and vegetables with gravy in the microwave, pressing the buttons '1' '0' '0', the beeps echoed through the empty house, soon it was the sound of my food warming up in the microwave that filled the silence. I wonder what Shaun's doing right now, I wonder if he's happy, like everyone else around me. Everyone's getting married, having kids and being happy unlike poor Andy who stands in their kitchen, waiting for the food that their mother made to warm up as he put his meals for a week in his empty fridge. This is not who I want to be anymore, but I have no other choice, no one loves me, yeah, fans do, but do you know how awkward that is, they're like my siblings...it's just...weird.
I pulled the food out off the microwave and unwrapped it; Bradie will be happy to hear that I didn't blow my house up. I sat on my small, mahogany, four seat dining table but alas, I sat alone. It's fucking depressing. I ate the food slowly, the flavours mixed so well together as my stomach devoured the food. I washed it down with the beer I had earlier, but it was warm now, not cold and refreshing, but it'd do.
I placed the plate in my sink full of water and other dishes I'm just too lazy to clean. I practically dragged myself to my room, ridding my clothes and getting into my cold bed that wrapped around me, soon making me feel warm, content and safe. I turned my lamp off and faced the wall, closing my eyes, those thoughts I always get crawled back into my head and always worse at night, my most vulnerable time for sadness. I tossed and turned all night, remembering Shaun and his almost sapphire eyes, his beautiful voice when he sung, my mind fell into a daze of a day dream, Shaun and I together, as if he was next to me right now, I sighed when I felt that feeling of content, resting my hand on the colder pillow beside me, my imagination showed me that it was Shaun, the warm blanket around my waist being his arm, I felt secure, loved for that moment. In that little daze I had of happiness, Brooke popped into the picture. I gave up. I turned onto my back and looked at my roof, I could only dimly see the light bulb in a shadow, I turned my head to the time, it was 3:34am, I was trying to sleep for four hours, nothing. I gave up, that built up frustration at the back of my throat crawled up again, almost choking me as I covered my face, my loud sobs almost impossible to stop. What was wrong with me? Why am I so fucked up?