A/N: TW/CW- thoughts of suicide/self harm. Homophobia. Troubling language. References to suicide.

This is a heavier chapter. I'm sorry in advance.

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Proverbs 6:16-19

I wake up to a throbbing jaw.

A metallic taste in my mouth.

Staring at my basement ceiling.

I try sitting up but all my muscles protest, lighting a fire under my joints. My chest tightens from lingering sick. My head pounds. I look and see my knuckles are a mix of reds and purples. Dry blood down my fingers. I touch my nose like I am being pulled by a string and wince. Pain erupts. Familiar pain. Not the first time I've been punched in the face. But when I close my eyes I can't recall who was at the other end of the fist.

But I had a feeling.

I push myself completely up despite my bones cracking. More red flakes on my jeans. And my hoodie, which blends into the black fabric. I run my tongue around my mouth and taste red.

I dig into my pocket, and find my phone on ten percent battery blaring the time of two thirty pm, with a grand total of fifteen missed calls.

I think I am going to vomit. Ten of them from Reno.

Two from Aerith. One from Vinny. One from a number not saved in my phone but looks familiar.

I have a few texts which set off alarm bells.

Tifasauraus Rex(1:36am): y wud u do this 2 me?

Aerith(1am): plz answer, everyones worried.

Vinny (12:30am): u nd cid owe me a table asshole.

I keep closing my eyes hoping for the events to playback like a movie.

Black.

I go through my recent calls.

I called Reno five times. But that's not even the worst.

It's the phone call to Sephiroth at 12:30, around the time Vinny sent his text, that gripped me with concern. It didn't last long. Enough, I thought, to ask for a ride somewhere.

I stood up. The drunk in my system makes my legs wobble. But I manage to stumble into the bathroom, flip on the light, and throw up in the sink when I see my face. My nose swollen, lip cut open, some more blood on my forehead. And I can't tell if I was punched in the face or fell into a wall-

Or into a table.

My head feels like it split open. Like a I was shot directly in the forehead. I go through my pockets again, looking for the tiny blue pills I bought, but find nothing. My wallet is still intact except for the rest of the money I had in three crisp twenty dollar bills.

My body feels like it's been pressed under a board with rocks. One by one by one. The pressure of gravity.

This is the worst I've ever felt and I haven't even started my apology tour yet.

I clean myself and the sink up as much as possible. Almost throwing up again.

Wipe away the blood. Prepare an excuse in case I run into dad on the way to my room.

I tripped and fell. I rehearse.

But part of me hopes he's standing on the top of the staircase waiting to drop the hammer.

And I'm disappointed when I see he's outside in the front mowing the lawn and waving at neighbors walking their dogs.

I sprint for my room, plug in my phone.

I start with Reno. He answers on the first ring. "Yeah, not ready to talk to you yet." and he hung up. I called him again and it went straight to voicemail. But I get a text before I could call a third time: u need to give me a min. Don't do anymore dumb shit.

I almost fling my lamp across the room.

Cid up next. I couldn't place why. But I need to talk to him. It rings twice, but cuts out in the middle of the second ring through; straight to voicemail. Seemed like he can't talk to me either.

I call Aerith. Her voice soft when she answers and asks immediately if I am okay.

"I don't know," I respond, the dread in my chest mixing with the alcohol in my stomach. "I'm all fucked up."

"I know," she sighs, "I mean, I wasn't there, but...I'm…" she pauses. I hear a commotion behind her. "I'm with Tifa…"

"Can I talk to her?" My voice cracks. Followed by a pause. Their conversation muffled and my jaw starts to tense again as I hear the phone being transferred.

"Well," Tifa growls. "What do you want?"

"I...sorry…" I respond weakly.

"And what are you sorry about, exactly, Cloud?"

My stomach flips. "I actually...don't rem-"

"You don't remember," she screams into the phone, "What a fucking surprise!"

"Tifa-"

"The famous Cloud Strife excuse. I don't remember. I was drunk. That's not an excuse anymore!" Her sharp inhale sounds like the knife across my skin. My whole body flips like it's on a roller coaster and I have to close my eyes to steady my head. I bite my lip so hard, the sting shudders through my whole body, reopening the wound and blooding my mouth.

She didn't say anything for a while. Felt like forever. Finally, she lets out a heavy sigh, and I hear the tears begin to fall. "You tried having sex with me. And...I was going to let you because I have wanted you to look at me like that for years." She murmurs a so stupid. And that's exactly what ran through my mind, about me. "But you told everyone I'd sleep with anything? Told Cid I hook up with everyone? Is that...what you really think about it? Is that the only reason you tried to get with me?"

"No," my voice shatters.

"I cared about you, Cloud, I...loved you so much that I looked past all your mistakes. But this?" Another deafening pause. "I don't think I can forgive you."

"Tifa, I am so fucking sorry," I plead through broken breaths, "I got really messed up. I've been really messed up. I know that. I know. I…" I stop. I can tell from the background noise that Aerith has the phone again. "Aerith-"

"Yeah," She sounds disappointed and that just adds to this devastated feeling in my soul.

"I...don't remember what I did."

She sighs again, "You did what you did on your birthday. You got in your own head. And you blamed the females in your life because it's easier than you acknowledging the truth about yourself."

I shake my head, "It's worse than that."

"Yeah. It is…..Cloud. I'll try talking to her. She's crushed. But...I know you only did this because of what's going on at school. You know what I mean."

I nod, "Yeah. It doesn't change the fact though."

"No...but...I mean- ugh. I don't know," I can almost see her shaking her head. "I don't get how you can have so much insight but still try to ruin your own life. You need help, Cloud."

You're aware of your toxic traits. But they act like a security blanket so you struggle with letting them go.

What are you hiding from?

When she hangs up to tend to Tifa, I call Barret.

"Oh boy," he chuckles, "Man you were on the warpath last night. What the fuck?"

"I don't remember anything," I admit.

"Bet you don't. Especially not after Cid rocked you in the face."

I smack my forehead, "What did I do to deserve it?"

"Well at least you're aware," he acknowledges, "Alright, this is all I know-"

He runs through the series of events like Samuel L. Jackson narrating my life as Jules from Pulp Fiction. After I downed the two shots, I b-lined for Tifa and said we needed to talk. Then disappeared into Vinny's for entirely too fucking long to be okay. Cid came in looking for us, all flustered and confused. And I recalled to myself how annoyed I felt when he told me he loved her. Someone blew up ya spot, and told Cid where we were.

"Next thing I know," he continues, "Yous are in each others' faces. You're saying you were provin a point that Tifa will fuck just about anyone. Cid just kept asking what your problem was. Bro, you couldn't even stand up, you were so fucking gone. I was about to step in, and I don't know," He pauses, "Oh right. He called you a pussy. You told him to stop crying about his dad to get pussy. Then he mumbled something I couldn't hear so you tried punching him in the face." I note his laughter with a growl. "But fucking missed and hit the wall. So he knocked you right in the jaw. And boom, yous are on the floor wrestling like a buncha idiots."

"Did we fall into a table?" I groan.

"More like Cid flung you into a fucking table, you had no shot in that fight."

I touch my nose again and wince, "Why is my nose fucked?"

"Oh," he laughter roars, "Tifa."

"I am so glad this is funny to you," I snap.

He cools it, but I can fucking hear the smirk, "You wanna act like a clown, I'm gonna laugh."

"How pissed is Cid?"

Now he pauses. Another sigh in my direction which feels like another rock on my chest. "He's bein' weird about the whole thing. But he's upset. More because you guys got into it than anything else- you haven't talked to him I guess?"

"No, he...pretty sure he ignored my call."

A short pause. I'm waiting for the lecture. One I've been on the receiving end far too often. "Look man, I have a lot of love for you, but you fucked up last night. I don't know your deal, but you've been acting weird for months."

"I know…"

"I know you got shit going on over there but...you need to get yourself together. Can't keep getting black out drunk and fighting your friends. Ain't a good look."

He's right. And I'm a broken record of apologies and excuses. He tells me he'll try to talk to Cid, but maybe I need some distance from the group. For a little while.

I called Vinny to apologize. He was over the whole circus and said it was mostly Cid's fault for throwing me into the table. Still. I promised to buy his aunt a new one. There was one more call to make but I hesitated.

Sephiroth. I glided my fingers over his contact and considered if I really wanted to know what happened after I left Vinny's. I'm already bruised and broken. Flattened by all my mistakes. He texted me with a smiley face and a "I like this Cloud better." And I thought of all the meanings behind that statement. And how little I care for the Cloud I've become. The one who continues to abuse toxic substances in order to hide all my truths behind a muffled mind. Like it's a barrier for my demons.

Maybe some things are better hidden.

You're at risk for self-medicating.

Worsening your condition.

And increasing dangerous drug interactions.

I look at my bathroom. And I'm being beckoned. There's options in there and I'm tempted to let the earth fall away from me. Instead, I collapse onto the bed with a huff. Listen to the mower outside tear away the grass while my dad sings Sad but True entirely too loud. The afternoon sun burns as it enters from the closed window- and I draw the black shades, and hide in the darkness of my room. Maybe when I wake up, everything will be back to normal.

I wake up to my phone vibrating off my night table. Shaking the wood below and rattling my eyes opened. The sun vanished behind the black curtains and an uneasy air hung in the pitch black room. My dry mouth tastes like mold and I gag every time I'm forced to swallow. I blink a few times, trying to get my eyes adjusted. Vague memories of my dad walking into my room and inquiring about my condition. Begging me to come down for dinner. I chased him away with claims of illness.

He said I felt hot. Told me to get some rest.

And I thought of screaming in his face at his lack of observation skills.

But my eyes were heavy with sleep and I quickly fell back into the void.

My phone goes off again. I grumble and feel around for the offending object. I'm hoping it's Cid or Reno. Mostly Reno, who I need to explain myself to first and foremost before rumors of infidelity reach his ears. I'd take Cid, who I need to beg for forgiveness, and maybe explain why I ended being the one risking our friendship.

I knit my brows together when I see Aerith's number. I flip open the phone and before I have a chance to say a word, her frantic voice reaches my ears. "Cloud! Cloud! Are you there?"

"Yeah…" I grumble, "I was nappin."

"Oh my god, please, tell me you haven't been on Myspace yet?"

"No...why?"

"Do not go on Myspace, whatever you do. Do not check myspace. I'm coming over."

I sit up, "Woah Woah, calm down. Aer, what's going on?"

"Just don't-" I hear her flying down her stairs, "Daddy! I need you to drive me to Cloud's house right now!"

"Chill out," I shout into the phone. I can hear her dad protesting. It's a school night. Why are you going to your ex-boyfriend's house at 9pm? But she starts shrieking in response.

Something constricts my stomach.

I hang up on Aerith. I look through my phone and see three missed calls and one text from Reno time stamped for 8:30pm: Please answer ur phone!

Still gripping my phone, I stomp to the computer in my room and boot up the internet. Aerith calls back, the device rocking my entire body as the modem screeches to connect, and I ignore her. And I ignore her again when I log into Myspace. And I see I have

New Messages

New Friend Requests

New Comments.

And I check. And see

Fireman O'Toole has sent you a friend request!

My heart races in my chest. It feels like the moments before a hurricane comes crashing through the window. An eerie silence descends around me as my mouse hovers over the name. I click. The old profile restored with the firetruck background and profile picture of a 70's porn star in a fire-fighter's hat. The sound of Gay Bar by Electric Six leaks through my speakers.

And all I can say, "You got to be fucking kidding me."

A single blog post remains. A new one I had never seen before. My breathing heavy with the panic that courses through me. Seizing my brain. I read the title over, and over, and over. And the words don't make sense. They don't look English. But they are. My eyes are blurry from the tears that cloud them. Or maybe this is another defense mechanism from my fractured mind.

Or I'm still asleep.

Or I overdosed last night and I'm in hell.

My phone keeps going off.

I shut my eyes and try to remember a prayer from school.

And for some reason I can't remember a single one.

When I open them the words are clear: Cloud Strife is a

But the slur is there.

Written in pink font.

The salt of my tears burns my wounds. I'm shaking.

And everytime the phone rumbles in my hands, my fist clench and I wonder if I could break the damn thing. I look at the caller idea, ready to attack Aerith for her incessant calling. Attack her for even saying anything in the first place.

There's a number I don't recognize.

But looks familiar.

I flip open the phone and bring it to my ear. And this time, a smooth even voice drips through the speakers. "Hello, Cloud."

"Rufus…" My tongue swells.

"Have you been on Myspace lately? Curious if you got my friend request."

I don't say anything. The blog post continues to scream at me from the computer, but I am terrified- actually terrified- of the possibilities.

"I'll take that as a yes." He chuckles. "Why don't you come to your yard, we have something to discuss with you."

"Who's we?"

I can hear the wind through the phone, Do you have anything to say to him before he comes out? No? "Sorry, it seems like my associate isn't very chatty right now. He was earlier."

"Okay pause," I snap as I punch the speaker of the computer off so I don't have to hear someone shrieking let's go to the gay bar during this event. "Why do you sound like a Bond villain right now?"

"Excuse me?"

"Like this whole schick you're doing. You sound like Dr. Evil. Fucking chill. It's high school, bro."

Pause. "Get down here before I tell your boyfriend's dad how he likes it in the ass." He hangs up.

I stand in my bedroom. The light of the computer casting vile shadows along the walls. The faces of those in my posters contorted like the demons in my nightmares; that grab and tear at my flesh while I'm frozen under covers. But the monsters are real. They always were. Hiding behind well manicured masks. Warped smiles and bright eyes filled with promise. The electrons in my brain spark alive with the realization of what I am about to walk into, when I can finally will my legs to move. The tingles from sleep prick my skin like tiny needles. I'm equal parts numb- my limbs feel like helium balloons- and paralyzed with brewing panic. That starts in my chest, which contracts like I'm attempting to fall into myself, to my head that's heavy with all the internal dialogue that plagues me. Like an infection.

Then, like the voice breathes against my ear. Reno's down there.

And I jump. I play Rufus' line in my head again. And it's enough to get my legs to feel like flesh and bone. I jog down the stairs, dad asleep, while March Madness shouts from the T.V.

I freeze again.

He's slouching on the couch, sitting up, head falling to the side. He's breathing even. His short blonde hair is a mess from the work he's been doing around the house- all to prepare for my mother's arrival. He's wearing a Fordham University shirt and blue jeans. And he doesn't look like he's rapidly approaching forty years old. He looks young enough to remember the pratt falls of high school. What sixteen smelled like. What black outs tasted like. And heartache, what it felt like. And there's this flash of consideration. Wake him up and tell him there's a boogeyman outside, holding the love of my life hostage, and I'm too weakened to fight off these demons any longer.

And I wish he would wake up and be the hero I thought he was when I was five years old. When he jumped into a freezing lake and rescued me from drowning.

I'm drowning again.

But I don't. Because in the same breath, I'd have to tell him why. And risk the disgusted look flash across his features.

I continue towards the back sliding doors that lead to the yard, keeping the kitchen light off as not to grab dad's attention. I peer through the glass and see the outline of Rufus, standing near the fence that separates us from our next door neighbors, wearing a long trench coat- looking absolutely ridiculous, and if this was any other circumstance, I would have laughed. I spot Reno, leaning against the rod iron table that's flaked with rust from lack of care. I know he's wearing my hoodie, his arms tight over his chest, looking towards the cracked wood on the barrier between our houses.

I exit into the frigid night. The motion sensor light gives me away and both boys snap their eyes towards me. I realize I'm still wearing the clothes from last night. Dirty jeans with my blood, black Korn hoodie which reeks of vodka. My hair a wreck. Bruises along my face. But I try to stand straight. Shoulders back as I approached with a pointed stare directly at Rufus. The other boy towers above me, hair slicked back- every strand in its place with enough hairspray to destroy the fragile ozone layer- hands in the pocket of his tan coat. He looks like he's coming from a fancy party, like this is a pit stop- some dirty business.

My eyes scan between the two of them. Rufus with his lips curved into a smirk, and Reno dodging my look.

"So, the fuck you want?" I hiss.

He laughs gently, "That's the spirit, Strife."

I pinch my lips shut. I look back at Reno-

"He can't help you," he turns to the red-head, "You know better now right? Can't be getting entangled with trash anymore." Reno shifts under both our glares. The blonde returns to me, waiting for me to speak. But I have nothing. I didn't read the blog post. I didn't read the messages or the comments that laid scattered throughout my social media page. I ignore the rest of the phone calls and texts that begin to chorus through my gray Motorola razr.

He sighs, pulling out his own phone, "You know, Cloud, I wasn't even surprised when I got the text last night from a random number telling me about you. Always figured you liked sucking dick." He scrolls through his phone. His voice deadpanned. My heart feels like it's trying to claw its way out of my chest. "I guess you didn't read the post?"

"Why bother? Just a bunch of bullshit. Calling me a faggot? Be original, bro. You think anyone is going to believe Fireman O'toole?" I'm not stupid enough to believe the conviction in my voice. Especially when Rufus hasn't lost the smile on his face; cut like a razor blade.

"Heh," he looks at me again, "Maybe. Unless there's proof?"

I can hear Reno moving the table from shifting, but my eyes are glued to the boy in front of me.

"You don't remember last night, do you?" He inquires. A deafening pause. I try to scan my memories again. But I am met with pure blackness. Probably the worst of all my black outs. I don't remember anything after I watched the clear liquid from the drug store vodka emptied from the glass. I blinked. And I was back in my basement. Like I was transported.

"I take that as a no," he shakes his head. "So you don't remember sending your boyfriend this?" He holds up his phone.

My stomach lurches. Like the slamming of a drum.

Then the sound escapes like a vacuum.

Try to make sense of what I'm looking at-

The pixelated picture of me kissing a guy I don't recognize.

And wonder with more fever what I did last night after I called Sephiroth.

"Guess you don't?" He removes the image. My breaths grow in intensity- and I can't seem to capture oxygen- and I plant my eyes on my boyfriend. Sitting there, looking away because he can't bear the image. "If it makes you feel any better, Cloud, Reno put up a fight." I watch Reno wipe his eyes quickly. "But I told him if he didn't provide the proof, I would tell his father the rumors that have been floating around school."

"H-How," I sputter, trying to hold back the tears.

"Got a text: Cloud Strife is gay. Reno Sinclair has proof." Rufus shrugs like the text was normal. "Told you to watch your back, didn't I? Don't say I never warned you."

Too many pieces of the puzzle missing. I'm staring at half the image with black spots toying with me. Information I need washed away from my own decisions. The alcohol. The pills. I flip open my phone and look through my messages as if I don't have both sets of blue eyes looking at me. All my texts to Reno were deleted. And I can't tell if it was me or someone else, another vile entity, trying to cover their tracks.

"Why?" I ask, finally, bringing my eyes to Rufus; blurred from the wet that I can't control.

"Hmph," he muses, "You hear that Sinclair? He wants a motive!" And his laugh sounds like a million tormentors, "Motives are so 90s, bro." His tone exaggerated, mocking. He taps his foot against the beige stone walkway. I watch his eyes as they scan me, his lips fall to a frown. He takes a few terrifying steps towards me. "Hm, I guess, I just really fucking hate you?" He stops, "No no, that's stupid." Shakes his head and looks at Reno again, "that's middle school shit right?"

Reno glares at him and Rufus waves him off before continuing his advance, "Maybe...someone paid me a lot of money to ruin your life?" He stops again. This time he cackles into the night; the wind carrying his voice through the desolate neighbrohood. "Nah, nah. That sounds like bad television." He walks until he stands directly in front of me. He stands at about six feet, four inches too tall for my liking, and I have to look up to continue staring at him in defiance. My eyes narrowed, tense. But I feel every part of me fall apart at how in charge he is at this moment.

"Okay," he smirks, "I got one. Do you remember your birthday? You and your lowlife friends started the party at New Dorp Beach before being run out by the cops. Remember?" He waits a minute, "Maybe not. Heard you blacked out that night too, but not before catching your boy trying to bang your girl right? My how history repeats and reverses."

He knows entirely too much. I swallow my worry down for a moment. He was never at my birthday, we don't roll with the same group. Not at all. But there he stands as if he witnessed the events himself. And his statements imply...he knows what really happened last night.

"Think Cloud, think about the beginning of that night," his words drip with venom, "do you remember the girl that overdosed?"

Another wave of nausea.

"Do you remember her name?" He pauses, "No, I guess you wouldn't. We don't really care about names, do we? You sell your shit and walk away. You don't care about their names, or their ages, or if they overdose from your shit? Right?"

And like a robot, I nod.

"Her name," he whispers, his voice slow almost, intoxicating, "Is Isabella Shinra, my twelve year old sister, you fucking prick."

I know my eyes are the size of the full moon.

And I knew she looked familiar.

I knew and I didn't care.

I didn't care because I was in the middle of abusing my own drugs.

And couldn't feel an ounce of empathy. When a girl who was too small to be around those giants, approached me and asked with a voice that hadn't matured, if she could have three xanny sticks.

And I didn't feel an ounce of guilt when I took her hundred dollar bill because I knew she had no idea how much they cost, and handed her three white sticks.

"Do you know what happened to her?" He cocks his head to the side, eyebrows slanted in anger, "Do you care?" I try saying something. But nothing. My mouth has no moisture to move my tongue that feels heavy. "Once she started overdosing, they pushed her into a van, and threw her outside the hospital like she was a piece of trash. She has no idea what they did to her between the woods and the hospital.

"She has nightmares still. Wakes up screaming," I can hear his teeth grind as he speaks, "Lucky for you, she couldn't remember who sold her the shit. But I had a feeling. I knew it was you. You're scum enough to sell to a twelve year old."

"H-how is this different from what you do?" I stutter weakly.

He ponders the statement, "Honor code. Don't sell under fourteen," he smirks again, "and that's the only reason you're not dead in the gutter, right now, Strife. I get it. Hard to ID when you're fucked on your own supply." the smirk dies, "But I couldn't let you get away with this. Especially when I heard you didn't learn your lesson. Pushing xan at Johnny's? To my girl?"

Rufus shakes his head, "No. I needed to teach you a lesson."

"So you out me?!" I finally find my voice. "How is that the same?"

"Oh it is. My parents don't look at my sister the same anymore, you know. They locked her away for three months in the psych ward instead of helping her. She's fucked, Cloud. They are sending her to a boarding school when the year is up to avoid the shame. You ruined her life," he clenches his fists, "And that's that I'm doing to you. So you know how it feels to have everyone look at you like your trash. Filthy. Disgusting. Because that's exactly what you are."

The wind howls through the trees. The moon hanging in the sky acts like a spotlight on the scene. "That a good enough motive?" he sings. Then he grabs my wrist, pushing my sleeve up to reveal the scars that paint my skin. "Now, why don't you do yourself and the rest of the world a fucking favor and get it right this time?" He yanks me so my eyes are on him. "Remember, Cloud, it's down the road, not across the street."

He drops my wrist.

And I feel the whole world fall from underneath me.

He turns back to Reno, "See you at school, Sinclair."

Rufus brushes past me, done, walking out the side and disappearing into the blackness of night.

My ability to process everything dies.

I'm weighed down by all my uncertainties.

My regrets are a mystery.

Too many broken threads scattered on the floor and no idea where to start to put everything together. I'm still reeling from the events that transpired at Vinny's house. I haven't even touched upon the afterparty where I apparently threw my life away for revenge. And I have nothing left to feel but shame. All the shame. Crushing my bones into dust. I want to be numb. So numb. A numb I couldn't even comprehend.

But the night is cold and unforgiving. And not over.

The rattle from the table grabs my attention. And Reno stands next to it and I can see clearly the caution on his face. Like if he approaches I'll burst into flames and take him with me to hell.

"Cloud," his voice a whisper. The word caught in his throat. My name.

"You," because I couldn't stand the thought of wrapping my lips around his; poison.

And in the moment, I expect an excuse. A weak I can explain. Then torn silence. But he steps into the moonlight, and his eyes are shattered. "I'm so fucking sorry."

The world ceases to exist.

"You sold me out," I tremble, "you sold me out to save yourself?" He's in front of me, reaching for my face so I can look at him, but I push him away as hard as I can. "Don't fucking touch me!" My throat raw, "You come any closer, I'll knock you out."

"Cloud, I fucked up. I know. I know. I'm sorry."

"You liar. You fucking liar. You told me if push comes to shove you'd protect me. You said that. You promised. Between Rufus and I, it was me. I was…." I'm choking on my words.

"He was going to tell my dad." He takes another two steps towards me, "I know I screwed this up, but please let me fix this-"

"Fix this?" A strangled laugh escapes, deranged. "How the fuck are you going to fix this! Everyone knows I'm gay because of you!"

Like he's not even listening to the words spilling from my mouth, he continues like anything he says makes sense to my ears. I love you, Cloud he pleads while he falls apart with me. The tears he tried to hide spring from cracked blue eyes. And I'm a mess right there with him. But I want to throw up all this panic into a void and fling myself with my sick, and close up the hole and die in peace. I scream fuck you in his face instead. .

"How could you do this to me? You love me? You fucking love me but you did this? Why bother coming into my life if you were going to destroy it!"

"I panicked. I didn't know what to do. I can ex-"

"You finish that sentence, I swear to God, finish that fucking sentence. I fucking dare you." I only realize my hand curled into a fist when my skin breaks and more blood seeps through my fingers. Only then does he take a step back and stops trying to hold on to me.

I stare at him- and any love I held buries underneath this well of hate. I seeth through clenched teeth. "Get the fuck out of my yar-"

"Cloud, come on-"

"Get out!" I scream, "Get the fuck out already. Shit. Haven't you done enough to me? You force yourself into my life. You push me to come out. You called the shots the entire time. The entire freaking time. And now this? This?! You think there's coming back from this?!

"You're just as bad as your ex. You're just as terrible as you made him out to be."

I shake my head. Look at the starless sky. Recall the shooting star where I wished his presence. And how this hadn't been a dream at all.

"You're the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

"You...don't mean that," he has the audacity to respond. "I love you… Cloud. I love you more than anything-"

"No you don't." I pause. Close my eyes because I can't see him standing there. I can't because I'll give up. All this anger. Fall into him so he can make this all go away. Live a lie. But if I don't find a hill to die on, I'll die for anything. "And if you did, you wouldn't have done this. So please. Please just go. If you ever for a minute thought you loved me, go and don't talk to me again."

I don't know how long I stand there catching my breath. But I can hear him still breathing. And every second he stays is a second I start to change my mind.

Then he does something new- he lets me have the last word.

I hear his footsteps disappear into the abyss.

And when I open my eyes he's gone.

The backyard now empty of the demons. Just me, rotting corpses of furniture, the smell of musk before rain, and the cold of winter.

And when he left it felt like he took the last bit of me that feels anything.

An empty cadaver all that remains.

"Well, that's dramatic, Cloud," I say to no one. My phone screams in my hand again. I look and Aerith has called for the hundredth time. My lips twitch as I flip the phone and bring it to my ear. I hear her sobs through the speaker and it's louder than my own tears.

I tell her I'm fine. She doesn't believe me, but her dad won't let her leave the house. And I'm grateful for her concern, but there's nothing she can do.

There's nothing anyone can do anymore.

It's over. The part I've played has been recast.

The act completed.

And I'm no longer sure if this is just intermission

Or the End.