Aiden

He loses control after the letter.

Days pass and he stops counting them. He finds comfort in a bottle and drinks until he forgets where he is. No one in his family says anything and he's almost disappointed because he wants a fight. Alcohol becomes his only friend and he's more than happy to have it.

/

He spends a lot of time on Facebook.

There was a time when he thought it was stupid, a waste of his time. He never posted much and neither did Madison.

He has one picture of them together on his Facebook.

"Aiden, you know I hate pictures." She pushes the phone out of her face. He knows she hates pictures, but never asks why.

"Please?" He's not above begging. He wants more than anything to have a picture to keep to himself. Plus his parents are starting to think she doesn't exist. They always spend time at her house.

"Aiden," she sighs. She's exasperated and he can tell she's trying not to be annoyed. She looks up at him and he can hear the apology before it leaves her lips. "I just don't like pictures…"

"Yeah… Yeah I know." He turns his attention to the sports magazine in his hand. They don't talk for the rest of the time he is there. The time comes for him to go home and he wordlessly packs his stuff. He's almost out of the door when she stops him.

"Aiden…" She strides towards him and pulls him in for a kiss. He drops his bag and wraps his arms around her waist to pick her up.

He gets so lost in the kiss that he doesn't even hear the camera.

It's only when he gets a message that night to check his gallery that he sees it. He makes the picture his profile picture the next day.

The picture mocks him.

It exploits his flaws and calls him a failure. It's only when he grabs the bottle of whiskey next to him that the voices in his head stop.

/

"Aiden… I can't go with you."

The nightmare shakes him from his sleep. He can barely see through the sweat in his eyes. He searches the room for his phone. He finds it on his nightstand and finds her name in his contacts.

Right before he hits send… he remembers.

He calls anyway and cries when the line is disconnected.

He's desperate to hear her voice and he remembers saving one of her voicemails. His fingers move at record speed to call his voicemail.

You have one saved message… saved message.

"I just wanted to say it one more time… Happy Birthday Aiden. I love you."

He replays the message all night.

/

Kyla visits once.

She opens the door and sees him hugging a bottle of Jack Daniels and she freezes. He watches her. He waits to see if she's coming in, but she's looking through him. There are tears in her eyes and he forces himself to get out of bed (Kyla's the only one who's able to make him do that lately). He walks towards her, but she backs away.

"I'm sorry." She shakes her head and tears are falling down her cheeks. There is a pleading look in her eyes and he imagines that she wants him to understand why. There is a fuzziness clouding his mind and for the life of him he can't figure out what's wrong. "I can't do…. THIS." She motions at him.

She runs out of the house before he can process her words.

He remembers Spencer's wall and how she kept track of every person who ever left her. He's not as bold as her so he settles on using his game winning football. He grabs a sharpie and writes in big letters MADISON. He writes Kyla's name next to hers and draws out the first letter of another name.

He stops after the S just in case.

/

"You can't live your life like this Son." His father sits on the edge of his bed and recites the speech he's probably practiced a million times. He figures this is his father's idea of an intervention. His mother didn't come. She cries every time she opens his door. "But you have a future… Football is your future." He's heard this speech a million times. He's lived his life according to this speech until he met Madison.

Until she opened his eyes.

"You can't throw it away because of some girl."

He has his fingers around his dad's throat before his dad can stop him.

"Her name was Madison!" He presses harder as his father grasps at his fingers. "Fucking say it… Fucking say her name. MADISON. Madison. Madison. Madison. She's not some fucking girl." He doesn't make any threats for the future because he's settled himself on killing his father right now.

He watches his father begin to pass out and for a moment he imagines Trent's face.

This is the way that bastard should have died.

He's so focused that he doesn't even see his mother come into the room. There is a loud noise and then he blacks out. He hears a voice fading in the background.

"I want him out tonight."

/

"Why do you always work out so much?"

He's so focused on his pull ups that he almost misses what she says. "I'm in training. I'm going to be the best quarterback in the NFL. I'm talking Joe Montana status." He pauses mid pull up to wink at her. She smiles back at him, but it feels forced. He drops down and sits down next her on the floor. "You should be proud. Your boyfriend has a perfect body." He flexes for emphasis and laughs.

She doesn't even smile.

"My dad says that the only thing that matters is being perfect."

She doesn't say anything and then promptly ignores him for the next week.

/

There cold steel of the handcuffs wakes him up.

"Are you pressing charges?" The police officer asks his father as two other officers lift him up. They yank him out of the room right as his father replies.

"Yes."

He should have killed him when he had the chance.