"Where do you even want me to start?" I asked, a little annoyed.
"Wherever you need to start to explain," he vaguely answered.
"Thanks for the useful answer. Fine, I'll just give you the short story. I hate myself and I've been planning my death. After I go home, I'll be gone," I deadpanned.
"Why? Why would you ever resort to that?" he replied, more curious than anything.
"What do I have to look forward to? What have I contributed to this world? Who will miss me?" I pointed out.
"You have to give yourself a reason to live, Vik," he said.
There was something about his reaction that actually made me stop and think. He reacted to start off with, unlike Simon. He wasn't making fun of me, like the rest of the Sidemen did. He wasn't completely overreacting and sobbing. No one I knew had ever done that, cry over me, but I had always thought that people would and they never did.
"I've given up finding reasons to live," I sighed. Any traces of a good mood in either of us had evaporated.
"Why?" he pressed on.
"It doesn't do shit for me. I find reasons, and the reasons get bored. Don't I have every reason to give up?" I continued.
"Fine, that's a fair point," he admitted. "What if I help you find a reason to live?"
"Like what? What could you possibly do?" I retorted.
"I could find you someone to care for," he suggested.
"I do have someone to care for, it's just very one sided," I mumbled.
"Who?" he asked, softly. Fuck. What was I going to say? I was stupid. The bitchy side of me wanted everyone to pay attention to me, so wouldn't I only be satisfying it by telling Lachlan I loved him?
"It's not a name you want to hear," I replied, honestly. I felt tears prick at my eyes. Fuck my life. The past few weeks had been some of my worst. I needed my blade. I needed it so bad.
"You can tell me anything," he said. He grabbed my wrists. I didn't even notice that I was scratching my arms through my sleeves. Was I going to be honest?
"Preston," I blurted out.
"Preston?!" he whisper-shouted. I forced myself to nod. Preston? What was I thinking? "Oh god, I feel horrible."
"Why? You didn't do anything…" I mumbled. All he did was take my foundation to live. That wasn't anything.
"I told you that Preston likes Rob. That's probably the worst thing I could say to you. I'm so, so, so sorry," he explained. Suddenly his arms were wrapped around me. I didn't know what to do, so I cried.
"I hate it, Lachlan. I hate knowing that the person that I- I… love couldn't give a shit about me," I admitted. It was all true. But I didn't care if Preston gave a shit about me, all I cared about was Lachlan.
"Shh, calm down, Vik," he whispered, tightening his embrace. I felt guilty. I didn't deserve his attention. I wasn't worth it. This attention was meant for someone he cared for, someone that wasn't me.
"I-I need to be alone, please," I stuttered. He pulled away enough for me to see his face.
"It's not my place to do this, but I'm not letting you be alone. We both know what you'll do if you are," he said.
"Why do you even care?" I sighed, staring at the back of my hands.
"Look, you're one of the most important people in my life. Since you've known me, you've always been there for me. I can't stop you from doing anything to yourself - especially after you go back home. Do whatever you want when you're home. Here, we're spending time with each other and the rest of the Pack," he stated. I sighed again and curled up in a ball in his arms. I tried to hide the fact that my heart was racing out of my chest.
"What time is it?" I asked who knew how long later. He checked his phone.
"It's 4:30 now. Mitch should be back with Rob, if he isn't already. Do you think you'll be okay? Preston is coming later today?" he replied. I had to lie. I had to act like I liked Preston.
"I should be fine, unless they start flirting with each other," I lied. To be honest, I probably would get pissed if I saw any PDA at all because I got annoyed and jealous of couples. They had what I never would.
"Are you going to be mad at Rob or anything?" he asked.
'I don't see why I would be mad at him. It's not his fault…" I mumbled.
"It almost hurts me that you're so… okay with this," he sighed. I shrugged.
"Who knows, maybe it'll all pass. Maybe he just deserves better and I don't want to interfere with what could make him happy. Maybe I'm contemplating just... going home," I whispered.
"Don't. Please. If… if you actually c-commit - erm - suicide, then at least spend your last month with us. Please," he begged.
"W-why don't you just go back to Natalie…" I snapped, suddenly annoyed.
"What?" He was taken aback by the sudden change of topic.
"If you really care, then let me be alone. Just for a bit." He thought for a moment.
"Fine. If that's what you really want," he finally said. He let go of me and left the room. It was already so lonely, but I didn't know how much longer I would last talking to him. I spent the majority of my time in my room when I was back home. Everyone ignored me and I was completely fine with that. It was already so different being around people who wanted my company.
I took a deep breath and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders. The trip would be the literal death of me, I swear. I greatly doubted that I would make the whole month. There were already too many things to wrap my head around.
I had to pretend that I was in love with Preston. That couldn't be too hard, could it? Surely, I could avoid him and act like it hurt to see him. I could avoid that problem. But I was potentially spending a week being the seventh wheel. Obviously, there was Lachlan and Natalie. I was almost sure that Rob liked Preston, and the two flirted as a joke anyway, so there was also Poofless. Then, there was whatever Mitch and Jerome were. None of us could tell if they were friends, boyfriends, friends with benefits, nothing. That was a possible three couples I'd be stuck with. The best thing I could do was keep to myself.
Hiding my scars would still be difficult. It would be boiling hot in Florida, and the only way I could hide my arms was with sleeves. I'd probably get heat stroke really quickly, knowing my luck. I didn't want anyone else to find out. It was bad enough that Mitch and Lachlan knew. Besides, I didn't want a repeat of what happened with the Sidemen.
"Vik?" a voice asked, interrupting my thoughts. Who was it?
"Uh, come in?" I replied, still not sure of who it was. The door opened a crack, and I saw Mitch poke his head in.
"Where'd Lachlan go?" he thought out loud. I felt my throat tighten.
"He went back to his room," I mumbled, pulling my blanket up to my nose. Mitch took a seat next to me. I wanted Lachlan there, not MItch, no matter how long it had been since I'd last seen Mitch. I scowled at how selfish I realized I was.
"I'm not leaving until I get answers," Mitch said, looking at where my arms were through the blanket.
"What questions are there to be answered? I cut, so what?" I snapped. The past had been so emotionally exhausting. Mitch barely reacted, anyway.
"So what? So what? This isn't some small thing. This isn't something you can just keep to yourself-" he retorted.
"I've already told someone else, is that not good enough? Mind your own business," I sighed.
"But, Vik," he started.
"No. This isn't your problem, Mitch," I insisted. Without warning, he ripped the blanket off me and pulled my left sleeve up. I tried to pull away, but he was way stronger than me.
"Holy shit," he breathed. "Is that- does that say… Lachlan?"
I jumped up and ran into where I thought the bathroom was. Lucky me, it wasn't someone else's room and nobody was in there. I locked the door as quick as I could. I knew going to Florida was a horrible idea. I couldn't survive a single, fucking day.
I screamed. I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration. Everything was too hard. Everything just needed to stop. I knew Mitch wouldn't tell anyone why I was screaming because he was never the person to just tell secrets, but Lachlan would tell people if he thought it was for the better. I stopped caring, though. I was so sick of my own shit that maybe it was better if everyone hated me. I didn't care if I woke up anyone, either. It'd just make it easier on their parts.
My breathing started getting faster and faster, and I heard a few voices yelling.I covered my ears with my hands and sat against the wall. All I could hear was my ragged breathing and racing heart. Everything else was muffled out. I could feel tears dripping down my face. I was having an anxiety attack.
I never had a solid way of calming myself down. No one else would even know how to help me to start off with, so I had to rely on my clueless and fearful self. I would usually try to distract myself with my blade, but I left it in my backpack. Whether it be playing or listening, music would help too. No one in the right mind would bring a keyboard to another country just because, and, of course, I left my phone in my room. I didn't know what else to do besides cry and furiously scratch at my arms.
"Vik?" a voice whispered. I had no clue how long I was locked in the bathroom.
"What?" I responded. I finally stopped hyperventilating.
"Can I come in?" the voice asked. It was definitely Mitch.
"No, please don't," I murmured. It was his house, so he obviously had the key to his own bathroom. Hopefully, he would respect my privacy and let me stay.
"Was that… a name? On your arm? That's all I want to know," he said.
"Yes," I answered, simply. If I had to act like I loved Preston, maybe one person should know that I actually didn't.
"Do you like that person? In a more than a friend way?" he continued. He was talking quietly and avoiding saying names, so I assumed that there were other people near him.
"I love him," I admitted. I could hear Mitch struggle with his words.
"Is he talking about… Preston?" I heard Lachlan ask Mitch. Lachlan wasn't being careful with words. If Mitch didn't know anything, I would have been fucked.
"What is he talking about, Vik?" Mitch questioned. Lachlan's voice was farther away than Mitch's. Lachlan wouldn't hear me.
"I told him that I liked Preston. I don't," I told him.
"Yeah. What will we do when Preston gets here?" Mitch lied. Thank god for him. I wiped the tears off my face and managed to open the door. Mitch and Lachlan were the only ones on the other side of the door.
"I'm fine," I stated, walking out of the bathroom. I didn't bother to roll down my sleeves, so both of them could see the reopened and bleeding cuts.
"Let me clean this up," Lachlan said under his breath, pulling me back into the bathroom. He managed to find hydrogen peroxide, gauze, disinfectant cream, and medical tape.
"Um, I'll do it!" Mitch yelled. Lachlan paused, confused. "Uh, I took a lot of basic medical training growing up, let me do it." Mitch saved me. Otherwise, Lachlan would have found his own name amongst the other angry, red lines.
"Sure?" Lachlan replied, still very confused. Lachlan looked into my eyes and hesitated. It looked like he was having a hard time making the decision to leave. "I'll be downstairs."
Mitch walked into the bathroom once Lachlan left. He took some toilet paper and put some hydrogen peroxide on it. He dabbed it across both my forearms. The blood foamed and bubbled on my arm, yet it didn't sting. He waited a little before wiping my arms clean and putting on disinfectant cream. He placed the gauze pads along my arm and used the tape to keep them down.
"Thank you," I mumbled, before walking back into my room.
