If I was only ever to be the villain, do not fault me for playing me role.
This is the hand you have dealt me. I do my best.
Do not think you can kiss the scars you left on me and call yourself a hero.
I do not need to be saved. I do not need to be stopped by you.
Let me be the darkness between the stars;
They, at least, accept me for what I am.
There's two days left before every poem is to be typed up and held in a little book. The others had gotten their poems finished and worked together to look over typos and any errors that would take away from the poem.
Chloe hadn't given them anything.
Alya sends an angry text first, saying I don't care if you steal someone else's poem, just bring one in. I won't let you be the one to drag the rest of us down.
Adrien's is kinder, but the message is still the same. We only have a few more days left, Chloe. Please bring one in? The rest of us have already finished. We can help you if you need it!
She doesn't reply to either of them, and instead rolls onto her side, wondering if it was worth getting out of bed. She wasn't hungry and her body was weighted down by gravity that stole the movements from her. Summer vacation was just a few days away. Did it really matter?
There's still half an hour until her alarm is to ring, but she can't fall back asleep. Her hands are still ink stained from the night; she collapsed into bed before she washed it off. The notebook is still open.
Sabrina texts her when her alarm rings itself into silence. Hey, are you not going to turn in your poems? I was really looking forward to reading them! I'm sure they would have been as great as you are!
If there's one person she wishes she didn't disappoint, it was Sabrina. No matter what she did or said, Sabrina always stayed by her side, supportive and kind. Chloe had brought her down enough. The least she could do is give her pieces of herself that she ripped out and turned into blue-ink words.
Chloe gets out of bed with a heavy sigh.
Her throat feels too tight and her heart beats painfully against her chest. There's nausea rolling in her stomach, but she swallows it down to stumble to the bathroom and get ready. She washes her face quickly and pats it dry with a small towel, but freezes when she looking into the mirror to begin putting on her makeup.
The hollows of her cheeks had sunken in, the bruises under her eyes darker, her skin paler and lifeless. God, how did she get so bad? She seems more corpse than teenager. It was never supposed to be like this.
It's things like this that make Chloe wish she could ask for help.
She would never get it though. The last time she asked her father, pouring out her soul, listing every symptom and mental illness she might have, and he handed her a credit card and waved her off.
She snapped it in half and buried it in her drawer of ignored things.
Now, Chloe just tries to get by from day to day, wondering when it would be okay for her to die. She would never get the help she needed; death is all that waits for her now.
Foundation, concealer, eyeshadow, and wings sharp enough to cut away every trouble she had; even with the tremors that tear through her body, everything is applied evenly. Years of practice make it impossible to mess up even in an earthquake.
The notebook is all Chloe grabs when she finishes getting dressed. There were two days left of school, what would she need a backpack for? A notebook and pen can easily be carried with hands, and her phone fit nicely in her bra.
Sabrina waits just outside the door. Chloe takes pity on her and pushes her into a limo to drop them off, protected from the heat that's already started to rise despite the early time of day.
"Is that-?" Sabrina begins to ask, looking down to the notebook in Chloe's lap.
"Yeah," she answers, cutting of Sabrina's question. "I'll pick two from here and give it to them."
Almost immediately, Sabrina brightens, her happiness shining so bright Chloe had to look away.
She has the driver turn up the radio and ignores Sabrina best she can until they reach the school. Though it's a small gesture, Chloe holds the door open and helps Sabrina out, making sure to keep their eyes from meeting. She walks away quickly as soon as she closes the door, desperate for the day to be over.
Sabrina follows.
"Go sit down," Chloe says, "I'm going to find Adrien."
When she looks, Sabrina's frowning and it makes something in her ache, but she nods and walks off anyways.
The school is quiet that morning, most students in small groups chattering about summer plans or end of school assignments. The courtyard was mostly empty and Chloe couldn't help but feel stupidly grateful. It always felt like there were so many eyes on her she was going crazy. But now, it was quiet and hazy and no one paid any attention to her.
Adrien stood next to the stairs that lead to the classrooms with Nino, laughing and generally being far too happy for the morning.
She would have prefered to do with one on one, but there wasn't much she could do to get Nino to leave.
"Adrien," she says dully, catching his attention immediately.
He turns to her, brows furrowing with a look of confusion and worry on his face. "Chloe?"
She holds the notebook up. "I have the poems, tell everyone to stop yelling at me."
"Oh cool!" He's always enthusiastic, especially with anything that had to do with his friends. She had been his only friend for the longest time and losing him to others hurt like a stab wound, but he deserved better than her. But his enthusiasm is what makes him grab the notebook from Chloe's hand and flip through it, babbling about their groups poems excitedly. Chloe's frozen on the stop, feeling disaster looming over her and waiting for it all to come crashing down.
She knows exactly what poem makes his freeze, eyes suddenly focusing on the page.
we are more than tragedies
we are laughter and bright eyes
and hearts full of love
happy stories are taken away from us
hidden under tears and anger
ever-lingering fear
and shallow unmarked graves
tell me a new story
tell me of gentle hands at dusk
painting each other's nails
dressed in soft towels and wet hair
give us stories of lingering glances
and french braids with matching ties
let us live
let us love
we have dug enough graves
let us hold hands in busy hallways
terrified but alive
our hearts beating the same rhythm
i-love-you i-love-you i-love-you
The poem was about how gay characters always died. How she was tired of burying herself in different bodies with different names. Adrien had read every word. He knew.
Fear swallows her, drowns her, as she watches his eyes dart over the words, then look at her.
He doesn't say anything. Somehow, that's worse than any response she could have anticipated. He looks down and turns the page.
And that's….
That's another poem she didn't want anyone to see, much less Adrien.
It was too personal. It was too revealing.
every moment i struggle for breath
choking around words left unsaid
with every heartbeat i feel my death
oh how ive become such a mess
leave me broken and bruised in bed
every moment i struggle for breath
rain-drenched in my prettiest dress
left to wonder what twists my head
with every heartbeat i feel my death
numb enough to fearlessly confess
here's the story of how ive bled
every moment i struggle for breath
others shine bright, i am so much less
you helped me only to leave me mislead
every moment i struggle for breath
no matter how much i hurt to impress
you will always choose someone else instead
every moment i struggle for breath
with every heartbeat i feel my death
"Chloe," he says, looking up with wide eyes filled with sorrow. "Chloe, have you always been thinking like this?"
She snatches the notebook from his hands. "I don't see why you care," she spits, defensive and afraid.
"I care because I'm your friend!"
"Are you really? Think about what a friend is and tell me honestly: are we friends?"
He doesn't have an answer. But that's alright. She knows what it would have been anyways.
Chloe leaves without another word, holding the notebook so tightly she begins to feel is bend under her grip.
As she storms off to the classroom trying to get her lungs to work again, she hears Nino quietly asking Adrien what happened. She doesn't stick around long enough to hear the answer.
She ignores everyone in the classroom, including Sabrina and her worried green eyes. Without a second thought, Chloe savagely rips the two poems out of her notebook and slam them on Adrien's desk. She doesn't care anymore. It's the end of the school year, and honestly, she knew her life was falling apart long before this.
Sabrina gently lays a hand on her shoulder and quickly pulls it away when Chloe flinches.
"What's wrong?" she asks.
"I'm going home, I'm not doing this today," Chloe spits out the reply, blinking back the tears that start to gather in her eyes. "Tell Adrien that every poem in this stupid assignment is going to be anonymous. I don't care what anyone else has to say, it's all going to be anonymous."
"Are you going to be okay?"
"No. But when am I ever?" Chloe laughs a bitter sound and turns on her heel. "Don't let anyone read the papers I put on Adrien's desk," she says over her shoulder, then makes her escape.
Adrien calls out to her when she leaves the school.
Chloe ignores him and walks to the hotel wiping away tears.
That night, she holds a lighter up to the notebook. She holds a lighter up to her fingers. She has been burning all her life, but the fire is too real this time. This is too real.
The fire is never lit. No burns color her hands red. Her lungs don't choke on ash.
Still she burns.