"And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you"
After a moment of getting my thoughts together, I went back out to the party. The loud music hit me like a tidal wave. The loud pulsing vibrations were bouncing off the walls, almost tunneling into my ears. With a grimace, I looked around the room searching for something… anything. An exit, an escape. A way out- and I needed it more than anyone understood.
Ready to collapse, I found the door and stepped outside, making sure to close the door behind me. The hallway was quiet, but oh fuck, it was spinning.
Colors were blurring together, and suddenly everything was silent, I clenched my fist together and curled up. The old head-between-the-knees trick wasn't doing it.
"…Squall…?" A man's voice and he kneeled down.
To be honest, at that point I didn't care who it was or what they wanted. It just didn't matter. I wasn't feeling good… at all.
"You're turning green, let's get you to a bathroom or something, okay?"
What? Why? I gritted my teeth as I stood up, greatly assisted by whoever this man was. I looked over, and even through my besotted, liquor coated eyes, I saw Nida standing there.
Was he trying to help me? Whatever.
I allowed him to lead me into another dorm room. I wasn't paying much attention to who's room. It didn't matter. All I knew was, I was going to be sick and-
Hovering over the toilet bowl triggered my stomach to reject every single bit of content. It wasn't much. A cup of coffee and a bran muffin, if anything. They probably should have been digested hours ago. The alcohol, though, burned, even more, coming up than it did going down.
I dry heaved a few good times and then I felt better. I couldn't stand the taste in my mouth, though. It was definitely going to make it worse. I attempted to stand, but my head was turned and the rim of a cup was placed in-between my lips.
"…Thank you." I said quietly. So quietly, in fact, I don't think he heard it. He reached over and gave the toilet an additional flush.
I sipped the water and looked up at him. I had to admit that after throwing up; I was feeling a lot better.
Nida was smiling. Though, this time, it wasn't his typical cocky, overwhelming sneer. It was… a helpful look which made me think maybe there was another layer to this guy. Perhaps, I was wrong to judge him so quickly.
"Alright, beautiful. Let's lay you down."
Why the hell did he have to say something stupid like that? I felt like shit, really. I just couldn't understand what was going through this guy's mind.
Regardless, I allowed him to pull me upward and lead me to the bed. I lay down, hugging his pillow immediately. I watched his figure recede before I closed my eyes.
A few minutes later, I felt the bed shift and felt a body slide up against mine. That body was as thin as my own. Unfortunately, it just wasn't what I wanted. I wanted that thick, strong, masculine body shoved against mine. I wanted Cross and his stupid arm around me.
Nida's arm came up and wrapped around my middle. I had to admit, I felt a lot more secure. But, even with my eyes clenched shut, I could feel that this wasn't Cross. This wasn't the blonde idiot, and therefore, wasn't enough.
"I'm in love with someone else." I immediately regretted saying it. Maybe I would be lucky and my murmured confession would be muffled by the pillow my cheek was resting on. He shifted a bit, and I could tell that, as I thought, not only had he heard me, but he was now running it through his head, thinking about what I had said.
"I figured." He answered quietly. He pushed himself closer behind me. Luckily for me, sex didn't appear to be the motive.
"Sorry." I groaned.
I knew how unfair it was; I knew what an asshole I was being. I grabbed his arm and I brought it upwards, around my chest where it was more comfortable for me. I needed to feel loved, and Nida, fortunately for me, was more than happy to oblige.
It was pitch black in his dorm room when my eyes opened. I heard him snoring softly. Mostly muffled by my hair in his face. It was such a minor sound I didn't believe it woke me.
Being a college-aged insomniac, I could sleep through anything once I actually got there. I slept through a frat party next door-I could surely sleep through someone snoring quietly.
What I couldn't sleep through, however, was something pointing at me, pressed against me. With a sigh, I shifted and tried to ignore it, but it was ubiquitous and I couldn't put it out of mind.
How long had I been lying here? What did it matter- Where the hell did I have to be? I squirmed a bit, trying to loosen his grip on me. Once successful, I rolled over and looked at his face. Peaceful, warm, and naïve as ever. It wasn't his fault I couldn't sleep. He was just a kid. Hell, so was I, except I had something preventing me from even attempting to be attracted to someone who obviously cared about me.
That just made me feel like shit.
I reached up and lay a hand on his shoulder, but as I took another peek at him, I lost my nerve to wake him. Instead, I shifted myself out of his hold and lingered beside him, taking note of the crinkling of his eyebrows, and the morphing of his lips from a content smile to a disapproving frown.
I felt repulsive, but there was nothing I could do to fix it. Instead, I covered him and leaned over his desk. The dizziness of the alcohol was still rushing through me, but I had a goal, and that's all I needed to find my center. I grabbed his notebook and opened to a random page. Filled with notes. I tried again, this time finding a blank page.
Now what? What the hell can you say to someone whose heart you just broke?
"I'm sorry."
That's all I could write, in my chicken scratch handwriting that made the drunken, sloppy mess that was my mind look somewhat orderly. I left the notebook on his desk and turned around, heading out to find my room.
I slipped my boots on, zipping them up slowly to not create any unnecessary noise. Gripping onto the door handle, I pushed down slowly. Mine made a clicking noise as it approached the last of the semi-circle, but I didn't know if his would. Luckily, it was silent and as I pulled the door open I heard a groan followed by a "Sq-squall?"
I stepped out and pulled the heavy door to close behind me. Looking around, I saw only a long hallway, dividing the dorm rooms. The same damn hallway that was in every building.
Panicking, I started running forward. I didn't know where I was going, but once I got outside, I could look around and find out where the hell I was. I just needed to find the door.
I felt like an idiot jogging down this hallway, turning left and right, looking for something, anything, familiar and not just ordinary. Finally, a door with a window. I pushed on it and wound up outside. Panting, I felt the cold hit me. My breath was becoming vapor in front of my face, and reality was clicking in, hard.
The cold air seemed to whip the drunkenness right out of my body, and I was able to see clearly. Home. I needed to get home. I took off, running into the moonlight. As I was running, I came to the conclusion that I didn't care where I ended up, as long as I could escape. I wanted to run away. I wanted to run back to the beach, and see him standing there in the rain.
Wait… No. Never mind that. I'd run past the beach. I'd run so far away that wherever I ended up, no one would know my face, name, or anything about me. I just wanted to get out of here.
I felt so much more insecure than I ever did before. Even in high school where I was constantly being ridiculed and dragged into personal conflicts that had nothing to do with me. Back then, I knew who I was. I knew where I stood.
Now what was I? Who was I? Why didn't I recognize myself in the mirror anymore?
When had my eyes taken on that darkness? Where was the light and why did it leave me?
Clenching my fist brought my wound to open, and seeping blood dripped down my fingertips in spatters as my feet continued pounding the pavement. I stopped in the middle of the parking lot and looked around, confused and lost.
Home. I needed to get home. I was going to pass out, and I couldn't do it here. It was dangerous out here. Someone would find me. I had to hide.
I found it. I found my home. The same building where I had stayed for the last few months; the usual building, but this one stuck out as the paint on the door was beginning to waste away. Sliding my card key through the lock, I staggered inside and fell to a crumpled heap on the floor. I was panting. I felt more exhausted than I ever thought I could.
Shaking my head and digging my teeth into my lip, I summoned something like determination. Yet, that persistence was diluted with guilt and shame. It weighed me down something insane. I had no choice but to drag myself to my dorm room door. Crawling along the carpeted hallway was hard on my knees, but it was even harder on my pride.
My wounded heart was racing, and spreading venom throughout my body. That poison was seeping out of my open wound, and it stung like a cold hard bitch.
In a drunken stupor, I held it up to look at it. Blood. Just blood. Just a flesh wound. One that I had caused, only to realize that things like this could still hurt me.
I grabbed the door handle and pulled myself up, not without the maximum amount of effort, and stumbled through the doorway. I had made it home. Still, looking around, where was I? What was I doing here?
I woke up the next morning with a headache. Nothing unusual. I pushed myself up and released a deep sigh while staring at the pool of a blood stain on my sheets underneath my hand. Running my clean fingers through my hair, I pushed myself up. Still fully dressed. No wonder I was so uncomfortable.
With a crack of my neck and a rotation of my shoulder, I pushed myself up off the bed and turned to look at my alarm clock. 05:20 AM.
Well, I knew I wasn't going to get any more sleep. Might as well work on something productive, I guess. Haven't done anything else with my time, that was for sure.
I pushed the power button on my laptop and opened my notebook to a fresh page. With another skin-pulling motion of my face, I looked back to my computer. I was just so lost. I didn't have the concentration for this shit. Hell, I didn't even have the patience.
My mind was wandering again. I felt more comfortable curled up in a tight ball than doing work. I needed to be touched. Even though it was my own hands, it felt comforting.
Snapping out of it, I clicked on the internet icon and figured I might as well check my email.
Balamb University | Leonhart, Squall, I.D.#41269
With a sigh, I leaned back in my chair, and swiveled back and forth, as if rocking myself to sleep. I clicked on the first unread email.
"Squall,
We're pleased to inform you that you have met the criteria to be in the Highest Honors in your graduating class of-"
I sighed and returned to the rest of my emails. Spam mostly. I clicked the square up top and deleted all of them.
Fuck everything. I grabbed the edge of the desk and pulled myself closer, before forcing myself backward and yanked my cell phone off the charger. I went back to my voicemail, put it on speakerphone, and sat there, rocking myself.
"Squall? It's me… I was just hoping you'd be coming home for Hynemas… I hope you're doing well. Call me. I love you."
…Mother. I pressed play once more. I listened again: this time, really gripping the words and letting them drain through my hands.
I undressed until I was completely naked and headed back to the bathroom. I turned on the water and watched it flow for a moment and stepped inside.
I felt the water pounding on my skin, and almost fell to my knees in awe that something could feel so good. My hands slid up from my sideburns to pull at my hair. I grabbed the soap off the plastic shelf and began scrubbing at my body. I felt like I had disease and germs all over me. That, and I reeked of liquor.
While massaging my temple, I realized the water was gradually losing its heat. With a groan, I turned the water off and stepped out. I grabbed a towel and ruffled my hair. I no longer enjoyed the ice cold water.
I stepped back into the room and yanked my drawer out and slowly began dressing. Standing there in boxers and socks, I realized I would have to dress carefully.
Jeans. It would have to be jeans. They were at the bottom of my closet, probably still packed away in the box… It couldn't be helped. I got on my knees in front of my closet and dug through the box on the ground. I yanked out probably the only denim I had and tossed them on the bed.
I needed a shirt. Something casual and long sleeved to hide the wound- A thermal for winter. Nothing weird about that, right?
I grabbed the navy blue henley I had worn maybe twice and stared at my bed. I turned and looked at my cell phone.
No. I didn't have to hear it again.
I knew what I wanted. For once, I knew exactly what I needed.
I got dressed and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair seemed to be scattered in different directions now. Oh well, I figured.
Only one thing left to do. I looked over to the key, hanging on the mantle. My car key. The car I haven't touched since he left. The car I never once drove.
Now I didn't have a choice.
The metal was cold in my hand, and that coldness temporarily numbed my fingers. I felt fear. Pure, uncontrolled trepidation seeping into my blood.
O how the mighty had fallen.
Pst, mighty.
I realized if I was going to go home, I would need to bring her a gift. Any little trinket would be perfect. She wouldn't care what I brought, as long as I came home. Still, going empty handed seemed a little too bitter on my part.
Maybe, just maybe, I wanted her to see through me like a window. Maybe, just maybe, I wanted her to know how badly it hurt.
I sat on my bed, carefully placing the key down beside me, and looked through my bed-side drawer. I had to have something in here. Pulling out a "pocket-sized" dictionary, I saw the box sitting there.
I picked it up and opened the cover. Inside, the lion cross pendant I had inherited.
This would do. It could use a bit of a polish, but besides that, it was perfect. I placed it back in the box and grabbed my keys. Shoving my arms into my leather jacket, I stepped outside into the cold morning.
I opened the door to my vehicle, and just stood there, staring at the driver's seat. No one had sat here since…
Looking at the headrest, I realized there were some stray blond hairs, which could only be attributed to that idiot. Unable to help myself, my lip corners pulled up and I could only smile fondly. Collecting them in my fingers, I held them for a moment. I considered, rather heavily, just dropping them and letting the wind carry them away.
But I couldn't.
As much as I wanted to, I couldn't let them leave me. This was the only thing of Cross that I had left. The only evidence that he was even alive somewhere. How was I supposed to just let that go?
So I didn't. I clung to them and took those stray hairs back inside. I placed them, very carefully, on my kitchen counter, and got a strip of scotch tape. I taped those two strands of hair to a sheet of blank paper and tucked it away in my bedside drawer.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
Finally, I sat down in the car's seat and gripped the steering wheel. Home. I was going home. I could finally shake the feeling of being isolated to the point of emotional starvation. Maybe that hopeless sense of loneliness would finally vanish, or even just diminish. Hyne knew I couldn't take it anymore.
Not by myself.
Turning that key was a weird experience. It pained me like I was churning my very heart with the flick of my wrist. However, I felt alleviated by the familiar and comforting thought of "home".
The engine was roaring. My heart skipped a beat as my knuckles blanched from my fist tightening around the steering wheel.
Heaving a heavy sigh, heavy enough to release all my burdens with it, I gripped the clutch and pulled it into reverse. My body immediately became reacquainted with the concept of driving. It was impressive since it had been months since I was even in a vehicle.
Backing up just enough to get out of my parking spot, I turned the wheel and headed toward the asphalt laid in front of me. Home. I was actually going home.
Luckily for me, the once snow-covered roads had been cleared by countless vehicles before me. It was going along, perhaps, a little too smoothly.
Perhaps it was being overly suspicious on my part, but when things went nice and easy like this, it made me paranoid about what horrors awaited me in the near future. Nothing has ever been without cost. I knew this now more than ever. It was only a matter of time before something bad would happen. A flat tire on the empty highway? Sliding off the cliff up ahead and becoming paralyzed, but not dead?
Overly pessimistic as it might be, I couldn't help but think I wouldn't be safe anywhere. Especially not when I had to carry the most accident prone person on the face of the planet-me-wherever I went.
It wasn't like I was clumsy. In fact, all my actions were so purposeful it hurt. It was like my mind wanted my body dead, but my body just wanted to live here. Suicide wasn't an option for me. There was still so much I had to do. So much that needed to be done.
But what the hell was the point?
Driving along this stretch of abandoned highway was dangerous for me. The threat of opposing traffic wasn't there, but being left to my own devices was destructive.
Heaving a sigh, I pushed the power button on my car stereo. Voices. I needed voices. I didn't particularly care what the hell I was listening to. Hell, it could have been static, but I needed a distraction.
War update.
I turned the station.
A sports game I didn't know anything about.
I turned the station again. This time, to a rock station. Fine.
I ran my fingers through my hair and shook the tired from my face. Maybe I needed more than a distraction.
Ugh, I needed a life.
Well, coffee, I needed coffee too.
I came across the strip mall dividing the Balamb "business district" from the "residential area". I use those terms lightly and out of habit. Drifting into the middle lane, I waited for the trio of vehicles heading in the opposite direction to pass before turning into the parking lot.
As soon as I did, though, I had regrets. This place was packed. A fucking madhouse. All the more reason for me to be there, not that I wanted to. Heaving a tired sigh, I turned and went to leave. That's when I saw it. A single parking spot between a Honda and a Chevy.
Pulling the key out of the ignition in that very spot, I heaved yet another sigh. The things I was willing to do for coffee.
Walking into the mall this time of the year was always an adventure. I had been here many times as a child in my mother's tow. Last minute gifts were nothing unusual to her. Sometimes even to the point of buying my gifts in front of me. She was, perhaps, absent minded.
No use scolding her for something I didn't mind. I got to pick my own gifts, after all. I never liked surprises.
As nostalgic as my walk through the overcrowded hallways was, there was always the urge to break tradition and make my way home through the path of least resistance. Still, my cursed nature doomed me to be nervous and constantly kind. I needed to bring her a gift if I was to step foot in my house.
Maybe she wouldn't like my lion pendant, after all. I think maybe that thought hurt me more than I was willing to admit. My feet stopped and I took a deep breath, my hand instinctively coming to run along my scalp. What the hell was I doing here?
Children were running about everywhere: giggling and frolicking around, staring at the window displays with looks of frozen awe painted on their faces. Not an unusual sight this time of year. I myself remember…- No. No, that's impossible. But-
The orchestral music blaring a whimsical version of "Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer" overplayed the excited voices of other children in the distance, cheering with glee over light shows and whining about gifts their parents said they couldn't have. The street was beginning to clear out, and I stood there, solitary, but not alone. I stared into the dimly lit window display, pressing the tip of my nose against the glass.
Inside was a typical scene I had come across countless times. "Hyne's Creation". The scene was as per usual. Animals, created by Hyne were freely roaming. The scene, of course, was a frozen in time scenario, so all the animals were in mid-step, standing there, stuck. The weird thing about this particular setup, though, was the animal's interest.
Usually, the story went that all the animals, once created, immediately left to go find a new habitat comfortable for them, but this was…different.
All the animals' eyes were on Hyne. Rather, not Hyne, but the fresh creature yet in his palms.
I felt a hand rest on my shoulder and looked up to see my mother, smiling at me. "Watcha lookin' at?" She then kneeled down to see the scene from my perspective.
"What's that weird bat thing that Hyne is holding?"
She smiled at my childish naivety and tapped her fingernail against the glass as she pointed. "That's not a bat. It's Griever."
"Griever…?" I repeated, still staring, mesmerized, at the leathery creature in his hands. A weird chimera of bat and lion features resting calmly in the hands of his creator, staring out into the world just created and seeming so… confused.
"Legend has it that Griever was Hyne's favorite creation." A male voice said from behind us. "So he kept him close by forever."
I woke up from my daydream and realized I was standing next to a woman's clothing store looking dizzyingly into the window. I must have looked like such a freak just standing there. With another sigh, I quickly spun around and headed outward. I needed to find some coffee, and fast.
I knew, more than anything, that I wouldn't be able to drive like this. Hell, I couldn't even walk like this. I grunted and quickened my pace when I finally came across a bathroom. I all but ran inside and stomped over to a sink, where I quickly turned the water on and cupped it in my hands.
Water is such a weird thing. It's so harmless in the palm of your hand. It just sits there, until it sinks through the gaps in-between your fingers. You need it to survive, so we keep it close. But then, other times, water becomes unmanageable and destroys things we love. We have tsunamis and floods, and lives are lost because of something we can hold harmlessly in the palm of our hands for a mere fleeting moment.
That blonde idiot was like the water. Rushing over everything I had once built up to stand so tall. My walls were knocked down and I was left defenseless. At this moment, I stood, holding that ocean in the palms of my hands: but who knew how long it would be until it rose up to flood me out again…
I splashed the cold water against my face and leaned down to let it drip dry. Clenching the sides of the sink, listening to the rush of the water was enough to calm me for now. I turned the water off and lifted my head up.
I wasn't expecting to see this person staring back at me.
This person was unusually pale. His face was sunken in, and he looked sickly. His eyes were dark and shadowy and it looked as though he had no soul. He was obviously exhausted, and his hair, even though it was plastered to his forehead, looked abnormally dull.
That person was me. I was staring at myself.
Dear Hyne, I needed help.
As I stared at myself in the mirror, a man came out of one of the stalls behind me and walked over to wash his hands.
"Tough time shopping with the girlfriend?" He asked with a grin.
"…Uh, yeah. Something like that." I said, simply to appease him. I needed to do something. I looked like absolute shit.
"Heh." He squirted some soap onto his hands and rubbed them together. "Don't worry. A few years down the line and you won't remember this at all."
I wondered if it was true. People always say that you forget your past lovers- that you won't even remember their name in a few years. Was that really true? I didn't have any way of knowing for sure, but I didn't think it was possible for me to forget someone who taught me so much and made me feel so many amazing things. Most importantly, I didn't want to forget Seifer.
"I hope not," I mumbled to myself. Before he could assume anything else about me I turned toward him. "Do you know if there's a coffee shop in here?"
Of course, I knew there had to be one. Every mall unconditionally had coffee somewhere. It was just a matter of where.
He looked thoughtful for a moment, pausing and bringing his hand up to cup his chin using his thumb. "Uh, yeah… I think they had a Java-Hut up in the food court." He looked into my eyes for a moment, and I saw his eyes widen, I could tell that it was because of my appearance. I backed up in a panic.
"Thanks," I said quickly. I dipped my head for a moment and spun around. I had to escape. He was looking at me. He would see right through me. I knew he would. He had to. I was as transparent as cellophane.
I walked quickly, my boots clicking against the linoleum tiles as I drifted away. Even though I wasn't exactly sure where the food court was, I needed to get away from that man first. As soon as I was alone, I would gather my thoughts and maybe care about where I was going.
What the hell was I running from, anyway? People stared at me all the time. Who the hell cares what I look like? It was none of his business, anyway. It wasn't like I'd ever see him again.
Whatever.
The food court, huh? Well, from my prior mall experience food courts are usually on the second floor, in approximately the center of the mall. Easy enough. Luckily for me, an escalator was in my line of sight.
Relieved, I walked over and stood on a single stair. I waited patiently, going up. The mall was playing its usual cheery holiday tunes.
I looked down and saw plenty of women quickly stepping to their next destination, some followed by men carrying parcels and looking at their watches nervously.
To think, a few years ago, I might have gotten pleasure from simply people watching. I wouldn't call it a hobby, per se, but it was definitely a past-time for me. I don't know what changed in me, where I could no longer do it. Probably my irrational fear of gaining attachment to one of them.
I brought my hand up and pinched the bridge of my nose. Life was shit right now.
At the top of the escalator, I stepped off and headed toward the middle section of the mall. There were fewer people up here, but nonetheless, still as busy.
The way they waltzed around up here was bewildering to me. Where did they get the energy? I certainly didn't have it.
I continued onward, hoping to come across that coffee shop sooner rather than later.
I sat there with my black French vanilla coffee with two espresso shots and ran my fingers through my hair again. All this for coffee. I must have really been going insane. What was I doing anyway, going home? My mother would take one look at me and demand I come home for good. Heh, maybe that wasn't such a bad idea.
Wouldn't everyone be surprised? The top student in the university drops out… sounded good to me.
Staring blankly into my coffee cup, my mind began to wander. 'Why Balamb University?' I heard Seifer's voice say. 'You wanna be a novelist?' …Shut up, idiot.
"Hey, there you are." I heard a guy's voice say. Usually, I would ignore this and figure whoever this man was, he was speaking to someone else, but I somehow recognized this voice. I looked up from my coffee and saw the same man I met minutes ago in the bathroom. He was walking with a woman, who I presumed to be his wife.
What the hell did he want?
"You dropped this in the bathroom!" He said holding out a slip of paper. Well, that was impossible, because I wasn't carrying any paper. I raised an eyebrow and was about to protest, but instead, he left it beside my coffee cup, winked at me, and immediately went back to join his wife on their shopping trip.
What the fuck kinda shit was this?
Was this some kind of joke? Maybe it was really just on the floor when I left and he thought- That's when I saw it though. The piece of white paper was a note.
What the fuck.
With an annoyed grunt, I picked the paper up and saw an attached business card. A fucking business card. But not just any old business card. This particular card belonged to the CEO of Timber Maniacs. Jason C. Timber. That's not what really threw me about this, though. What really threw me was the handwritten note to the side.
In chicken scratch handwriting that was somewhat better than my own, was a simple note.
"You're a cutie-call me some time if you wanna hang out"
Part of me wanted to laugh. Another part was nearly homicidal. The third and final and most dominant part of me was just utterly and completely confused.
Was this a joke? No. If it was a joke, he would have just handed me the card in front of his wife, right? I didn't know. What the hell was this? "wanna hang out" … hang out? With a middle-aged man who ran a magazine company?
Because I was… "cute"?
I must have looked loony, sitting there, my shoulders shaking as I laughed to myself.
