Standing in the Dark - Chapter Eighteen
"I need to talk to you, Carlos."
Bradley's voice was so monotone that it was almost eerie. The sound of it caused Carlos' happy feeling to suddenly vanish and be replaced by the cold feeling of dread. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the bruises that littered the blonde's body and he wasn't stupid enough to ask where they had come from.
Carlos knew that he had done that to his best friend. He knew the handprints on Bradley's neck matched perfectly with his palms. He knew that he had inflicted every single one of those bruises. Who felt the most pain, though, he didn't know.
Sure, Bradley was feeling physical pain, obviously, and emotional pain from being hurt by the man who was supposed to be his best friend. But Carlos wasn't sure if there was anything more painful than the self-hatred he was feeling at that very moment. Just a moment ago he was feeling happier than ever and giddy to get back to the apartment to tell Bradley how he felt about him, but now all he felt was a stone cold sense of hatred. For himself. And it wasn't the usual burning hatred that he was so used to. This was so different that he almost felt physically ill.
"I-I'm sorry." Was all Carlos could muster up. He couldn't bring himself to say more. His jaw seemed to be wired shut as he finally managed to meet Bradley's bloodshot eyes.
Bradley let out a fake chuckle before leaning forward in the chair, never breaking eye contact with Carlos. "You're sorry? Why do I find that so hard to believe?"
"I really am sorry!" Carlos said, shaking his head quickly, "I-I just don't know what else to say!"
Bradley stood up and sighed, but didn't step forward like Carlos expected him to. "That's because you aren't sorry, Carlos. If you were really sorry you would stop hurting me. If you were really sorry you would stop drinking."
"You know I can't stop. It helps me." Carlos said, his voice small.
"Does it really help you, Carlos? Does it help you to hurt me?" Bradley asked, his voice raising the slightest bit. He was beginning to look less broken and more furious by the minute.
Carlos quickly shook his head. Of course not, didn't he know that? Every single time that the Latino found himself hurting him, he immediately stopped. He always apologized and told Bradley that he didn't mean it. Wasn't that enough.
"You know I don't mean it," Carlos said, taking a step towards the blonde and reaching out to him, "I'm your best friend."
Bradley jerked away quickly, raising his arm in the air and away from Carlos. For a minute the shorter boy thought that Bradley was going to hit him, so he flinched, but the blonde just laughed.
"Do you actually think that I would hit you?" Bradley asked, a look of disbelief on his face, "And I don't care that you say that you don't mean it. Why do you keep hurting me, then? Am I nothing more than a punching bag to you?"
Trying very hard to hold in the anger, Carlos stepped closer to his friend rested his hand lightly on Bradley's bicep. "You're everything to me, Brad. I actually came home to tell you-"
"You know, this might be the first time in weeks that you've come home sober, Carlos." Bradley growled, but didn't jerk back this time, "Hell, if you even do some come. And every time you do, it's to tell me what a piece of shit I am."
Carlos wanted to tell him at that moment, he really did. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, I love you, but this wasn't the moment. He needed it to be perfect when he finally said it. He just couldn't do it now.
But little did he know, if he had said it, right then and there, things might have ended differently. Bradley might have calmed down. He might have stepped into Carlos' embrace. The tension and anger between them might have ceased. It might have decayed to nothing. It might have been the thing that made Bradley forgive him for every time Carlos hit him. It might have been the thing that kept Carlos from reaching for a bottle of Jack every night. It might have been the thing that saved Carlos' life with Bradley. It might have been the thing that ended this story differently.
But Carlos didn't say it. He just looked Bradley in the eyes and remained silent. He didn't know what else to say. He'd already apologized, but it was clear that his words weren't enough.
"I'm sorry…" He muttered anyway, looking away.
Bradley glared at him in disgust and shoved past Carlos, heading towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Carlos asked.
"I'm leaving, Carlos. I can't handle this anymore."
Carlos' eyes went wide and he moved faster than he ever had in his life. He was in front of Bradley in an instant, blocking his path to the door.
"You can't leave me."
His voice was pleading, but a hint of anger was slowly creeping into his voice.
"Why the hell not? You say that you care about me today but tomorrow you're just going to come home again, drunk as hell, and hit me again." Bradley snarled.
Carlos shook his head quickly, ignoring the burning anger. He couldn't let his anger show. He wasn't going to allow himself to hurt Bradley again. "I promise I'll stop. For you."
"I'm sick of your empty words and lies." Tears were brimming in the corners of the blonde's eyes and he bit his lip.
"I'm telling the truth! I promise you. I won't ever pick up another bottle ever again!" Carlos pressed, a pleading look in his eyes.
The blonde shook his head and reached up to push Carlos out of the way, but jumped when the other man grabbed his wrists quickly. He locked eyes with Carlos' before speaking, "Let go."
"No. I can't let you go, Brad."
Bradley tried to pull away from Carlos' strong grasp, but to no avail. The Latino surely wasn't the weak little boy he was a few years ago. Still, he continued to try to pull away. "Let me go."
Carlos shook his head, "No, please. Stay."
His grip slightly tightened and Bradley winced. It didn't hurt, but he had expected pain. He knew this wasn't going to end pretty. Even though Carlos was trying to hide it, he could see the anger in the Latino's eyes. He'd made him angry.
"This isn't helping your case at all, Carlos." Bradley whispered. He'd stopped struggling and had balled his hands into fists instead. "Let me go."
"I said no!" Carlos yelled, causing Bradley to jump. No matter how often Carlos yelled at him, he never got used to it. Carlos lowered his voice, "Don't leave me, Brad. I-I can't lose you."
"Let me go."
Carlos ground his teeth together, growing frustrated. His grip tightened, this time painfully, and he saw Bradley visibly tense up. He instantly regretted his actions, but he didn't stop. "No."
"You're hurting me."
"I don't care."
Bradley's eyes opened wide as soon as Carlos spoke those words. Even though he'd thrown several accusations at him about his apathy, but he'd never actually heard Carlos say those words.
Carlos didn't care that he was hurting his best friend. All he felt now was rage.
"Please, s-stop." Bradley stuttered, afraid of the dark look in Carlos' eyes, "That hurts."
Digging his fingernails into the blonde's skin, Carlos stepped closer so that they were face-to-face. "You're not going anywhere. You're going to stay right here with me."
Heart beating faster with fear, the blonde tried to step back but Carlos' firm grip kept him in place. He had no idea of what Carlos would do next, but he didn't want to provoke him any further, so he remained silent.
Carlos pushed him back and together they walked back into the living room, Carlos still holding Bradley's wrists. He pushed the blonde back roughly, finally releasing him, and watched as his friend gently rubbed at his wrists. He could see the bruises already beginning to form.
"You deserve it."
Bradley looked up at him, a look of disbelief on his face, "What?"
"You heard me. You deserve getting hurt." Carlos spat, "You're always trying to pick fights. Who the fuck do you think you are?"
Bradley narrowed his eyes, "I think that I'm your best friend. I'm not trying to pick fights – I just call you out on being the piece of shit human you are."
They were both taken back by Bradley's words. Carlos' eyes widened and Bradley stopped rubbing his bruised wrists, but he didn't regret what he said. It was the truth.
"I'm sorry, but it's true."
Carlos closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. "Fine. If you think I'm a piece of shit, then I'll leave. I'm the one who doesn't deserve to be here."
He turned around and slowly walked out of the living room, as if expecting Bradley to stop him. But he didn't. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the blonde had continued rubbing his wrists and was just watching him go. When Carlos didn't move, he spoke.
"Well? Go."
Fighting the urge to turn back, Carlos turned his head and started towards the door. He grabbed his keys from the dish on the counter and just like that – he was gone.
Bradley sighed loudly and sank onto the small couch before putting his head in his hands.
What a mess.
Carlos was walking quickly down the staircase that lead to the parking lot outside of his and Bradley's apartment building. He didn't bother taking the elevators, for he knew that one of his neighbors would probably try to strike up conversation and he wasn't in the mood for pretending to be happy at that moment.
Pushing through the door on the bottom landing, he stepped out into the rain. This scene immediately reminded him of the day he left the Palm Woods to find Bradley after Logan had come after him.
It kind of surprised him that the memory was as fresh in his mind as it was. He could remember almost every detail, despite how long ago it was. Three years wasn't that long ago, to be honest, but it was pretty long considering how far he'd come.
Walking across the parking lot, Carlos glanced down at his shirt to see the specks of water collecting on his shirt. It was nothing more than drizzle at that moment, but he knew a pretty bad storm was predicted for the Los Angeles area that night.
I can't believe I did that to Bradley. He thoughts as he reached his car and unlocked the door. He could still feel Bradley's soft skin under his palms when he'd grabbed him. He noticed some dead skin had gotten under his nails when he's dug them into the blonde's arm and frowned. I can't believe what I've become.
It was an honest thought. Carlos didn't even recognize himself in the mirror anymore. He used to be this happy, bubbly, carefree guy. He used to feel at the top of the world. He used to days, weeks, or even months without a single negative thought. That was back during his Big Time Rush days. When he and his three best friends were having the time of their lives. When his everything in his life felt right.
Nothing had felt right since the guys kicked him out. Even after three years, thinking that he'd finally gotten over their betrayal. Even after he'd set up a studio and was on his way to becoming a successful photographer.
The only thing that felt remotely the same was Bradley.
Thinking of the blonde, Carlos closed his eyes as he sunk into the front seat of his car and closed the door, locking the rain out. He was in denial of what had happened only a few moments ago.
He'd hurt his best friend. Again.
Starting the car, Carlos pulled out of the parking lot and drove out onto the road. It was slowly getting dark and as the rain began to get heavier, he let the noise of the pounding water against his car soothe him.
I can't believe I hurt him again.
Carlos had been telling himself for weeks now that he had no idea why he hurt Bradley so much. He'd acted as if he had no idea why he threw every punch or screamed every word. He'd acted completely clueless but deep down he knew why he was hurting Bradley so much.
It was absolutely no excuse for hurting his best friend – but it's true. The only thing that had given him any hint of happiness and joy over the past three years had been Bradley. The blonde reminded him that there was still love and friendship in the world. When Carlos went through his depression, Bradley was always there.
He helped him every day. When the panic attacks set in, Bradley was always there to calm him down. When the nightmares plagued his dreams, Bradley was always there to cradle him and chase the bad thoughts away.
When he came out of his depression, Carlos thought that he'd become a better person. He told himself that he would let this experience build on his character. He lied to himself and believed that he was never going to treat anyone like his old friends had treated him.
But Bradley had been right.
It was all empty words and lies.
Carlos had taken up drinking. It numbed his pain and clouded his mind. He didn't have to think when he was drunk. He didn't have to care. He didn't feel a single damn thing. But he was the only one that benefited from his drinking.
He hurt Bradley so many times when he was drunk. When Carlos was drunk, he assumed the roll of his old best friends, and Bradley was his past self.
He didn't know why, but it made things better for him. To know that he had power over someone that Kendall, James, and Logan had once had over him. To know that he had control over every punch he threw and every word he said.
It was sick, honestly. It wasn't right. But that never stopped him.
Feeling a lump forming in his throat, Carlos bit his lip. Even when he went through his depression, he'd never felt as much self-loathing as he did in that moment.
The piece of shit human you are.
A single tear fell, and after that more came. He couldn't stop them. He began to sob as he drove, the rain pounding so hard against the windows that he couldn't see anymore. It was pitch black outside and the only thing that offered him light were the bright headlights of his car.
He felt a sudden regret in his stomach. It was heavy like a stone and felt as though it was crushing his insides. Mixed with the self-loathing, it felt as though his brain was going to explode and he could barely keep his hands on the wheel because he was sobbing so hard.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his phone in the passenger seat. He'd thrown it into the car when he'd first got in, and had been ignoring the constant buzzing.
Picking it up and looking at the illuminated screen, he saw Bradley's name. Two missed calls.
His heart dropped. Maybe even after their fight, Bradley still cared about him. He might have called Carlos out of fear that he would get hurt in the storm. Or maybe he called to tell Carlos to never come back.
Never mind the meaning behind the missed calls. Carlos unlocked his phone and found Bradley's contact. Keeping one eye on the road and one on the screen, Carlos began to type a text message.
"I'm sorry." He said as he typed, trying to focus on the phone and the road at the same time.
He didn't care if it was a perfect time anymore. He needed to say it. "I love you."
As he was typing the last few letters, he looked away from the phone and read the message over once before sending it. As soon as he saw that the message had been delivered, he heard it.
A car horn.
It was louder than anything Carlos had ever heard. Tearing his eyes from the screen of his phone, he saw the blinding lights of the car heading straight for him. Hands tight on the wheel, he turned as hard as he could.
His car steered away from the on coming truck and he didn't have a moment to let out a sigh of relief before he saw the tree.
He didn't even feel the impact.
That was probably the most intense scene I've ever written in my entire life.
I'm not going to give anything away, but what do you guys think happened? How badly do you think he's hurt? Do you think he hit the tree at all? Leave me your thoughts in a review, por favor!
There is probably nothing that I love more than a juicy cliffhanger. I apologize in advance for the amount of frustration you have, waiting for the next chapter, but it will come soon, don't worry! The only reason it took me a while to update was because I had surgery on Thursday last week and I didn't feel much like writing until today. I had originally planned on writing and posting this last Wednesday, but I felt like it was too rushed, you know? But here it finally is.
Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support for this story. I'll try my best to update soon, and TPC as well!
~ Carnie