Alone.
As Trent walked slowly down the cracked sidewalk, he was thinking about the fact that he was alone. Or, more significantly, that he had not really been alone almost since setting foot in Possum Springs. In fact, as he strolled down the sidewalk, hands shoved into his hoodie pockets, listening to his phone via earbuds, he realized that he'd had perhaps three minutes, at most five, of being by himself before he'd run into Mae in that bus station.
And it hadn't really ceased since then.
She was always around, it seemed. And, after awhile, if it wasn't her around, then it was Ann, or Bea. Angus and Gregg as well. And now Claire. And, to lesser degrees, the other people he'd formed relationships and friendships with.
It was basically the opposite of his old life. He'd always been alone before.
The change had happened so abruptly and then his newfound friendships had been so intensely persistent that it had simply become his new reality, and he hadn't really thought about it that much. There was just too much going on.
Really, the most he was ever alone was when he was in his office, working, but even then, there was almost always someone else in the house. Even on the same floor, barely a dozen feet away. Even if it was Mae and she was sleeping, he didn't feel like he was by himself. Maybe that was the biggest difference.
He no longer felt alone.
The amount of times he'd genuinely gone out by himself he could count on two hands. Over a span of six months. That was crazy, he was realizing. Or was it? Was that normal when you had a girlfriend? He supposed it made a lot more sense when you had three.
After helping Claire get her stuff over to Mae's parent's place and they'd gotten it up to her new room, she'd basically asked to set up the room herself, as it was a thing she wanted to do solo. They all headed out and left her to her project. Jacob and Germ had already left by the time they'd gotten there, and Mae's parents were a bit groggy after all the weed from last night. He'd gone with Mae and Bea back home, but found himself strangely dislocated and uncomfortable.
For almost ten minutes he sat on the couch, unsure of what to do. Bea had hovered nearby uncertainly, sensing something was amiss. All at once, Trent had realized he wanted to go for a walk, and by himself, though he couldn't say why. Bea had seemed a little reluctant to let him go by himself, but had agreed to it when he'd asked her directly.
So now here he was, walking the streets of Possum Springs, by himself.
He was realizing that it seemed a little alien. He was also realizing that he'd almost never seen any of it alone. And while if you had asked him directly if that would make a significant difference, he'd answer 'no, probably not', he was finding that it did.
There was a strange sense of dislocation.
And it seemed to be getting worse.
Thoughts came and went, some good, some bad.
Trent felt like a different person, and he supposed there was some actual truth to that. He was changing. He had a place of his own that was actually his. He had three very successful relationships. He'd gotten his writing career off the ground with surprising speed. He was going to parties, and hooking up with far more women than he'd ever imagined was even remotely possible. The encounters with Jen and Melody still seemed absolutely impossible, as insubstantial as dreams. Occasionally, he found himself questioning whether or not they'd actually happened.
These were all unarguably good things. Things that he wanted. It wasn't even like he found his success or achievements to be hollow. Wasn't that the old tale everyone liked to retell a billion times over? Person gets their wildest dream fulfilled, discovered it's a pale husk of what they thought it would be? Money can't buy happiness?
It was bullshit. He was absolutely happier because of money, though more because of his relationships. He couldn't even claim to feel unfulfilled. Trent liked his life, where it had gone, and where it was going. The cult shit sucked, getting shot was pretty miserable, and the increasing amount of hostile encounters he was having with assholes was making him very uncomfortable, if only because, on a practical level, he knew it was only a matter of time before he stepped to someone who could, and would, kick his ass.
Too many bad stories out there from street brawls. Broken fingers, chipped teeth, fractured skulls. None of that sounded very worth it.
But the thing he was feeling now was…
He wasn't even sure.
Trent paused and looked around, spying a bench. He was past the old railway station, not far from the Town Centre. He sat down and simply waited for a moment, trying to calm his mind. But it wouldn't calm. The thoughts began coming faster. After a moment he stood back up abruptly and kept on walking. Maybe if he could get to a bathroom and splash some water on his face he'd chill out. Why did he even need to chill out?
The current song playing on his phone ended and a random one was selected. A few chords were played and he hesitated, instantly knowing that it was a song he'd listened to a lot in the past, but had stopped at some point.
As it started playing, he abruptly remembered that it was Perfect by Simple Plan.
Trent kept walking, then stopped again suddenly as something kicked in his chest. His breath started coming faster and his vision blurred for a second.
He raised his hands, staring at them. They were trembling, and they felt oddly detached from the rest of him.
He felt oddly detached from himself, somehow.
"What's happening?" he whispered.
Whatever the hell it was, it was bad.
Breathing heavily, trembling, he looked around. He was in front of the Telezoft building. Without really thinking about it, his brain suddenly filled with a jumble of terror and an unexpected tsunami of memories from his old life, he raced down the narrow alleyway and came to the back. Grabbing the ladder, he hastily climbed up to the roof.
As he got to the top, he stumbled and fell to his hands and knees, then looked around as it suddenly occurred to him what he'd just done.
"What the-why the fuck did I do this?" he whispered. It was getting harder to breathe and-was he having a fucking heart attack?
Could he? He was twenty two for God's sake.
Something was definitely wrong. He needed help.
He yanked out his earbuds and pulled his phone out. He killed the music app, pulled the earbud jack from the phone, and then dropped it.
"Shit!" he hissed, scrambling to grab it. He picked it up and looked at the screen, which had gone dark. For a second he felt his terror crescendo as he thought he'd broken it, but when he hit the button, the lock screen lit up.
He needed help.
The number pad came up as he swiped and he began to punch in the unlock code.
And then stopped.
He couldn't remember it.
Trent felt his heart kick harder in his chest and he almost dropped his phone again. He couldn't remember it.
He couldn't even remember the first number.
"Trent?"
He let out a shout and dropped his phone again as he jerked towards the sound of the voice. Lori was at the top of the ladder, looking at him. She let out a little shriek of her own.
"Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you-are you okay?"
"I d-don't...I...can't-think-talk," he managed. "Help."
"Oh man," Lori said, coming forward. "Jeez. Okay. Um. Trent, uh, look at me." He looked up at her, panting now. "Okay, okay. It's okay, Trent, you're having a panic attack. It's really scary but it's okay. Um. Crap. Uh, just, focus on breathing...what can I do to help?" she asked.
He looked at his phone. Closed his eyes for a second. A panic attack? Why? He'd never had one before. Not even during the worst shit that had gone down so far.
But he was calming down, at least a little bit. He felt slightly more in control.
He opened his eyes. "Call Bea," he managed. "Tell her to come here. I can't-can't call. Can't remember, um…"
Lori was already pulling out her phone. "It's okay, I can do it," she said. "Just, um, sit there, focus on breathing. Just hold on."
Trent closed his eyes again and sat down, then focused on breathing. He was feeling, well, not better, but less bad, at least.
A panic attack? Seriously, why?
He could vaguely hear Lori talking.
"Hi, uh, I need your help. No. Not for me. It's Trent. No, no, he's not hurt, he's having a panic attack...we're on top of the Telezoft building...yeah, okay, I will. Okay. Bye."
Then she was crouching down in front of him, a look of concern and also a sad sort of understanding on her face.
"Hey, Bea's on her way, she'll be here soon," she said.
"Crap, this is so embarrassing," he muttered, hugging himself.
"It isn't," Lori said. "I've had a lot of these."
"They really suck," he groaned.
"They do. You kinda feel like you're dying, but you aren't."
"I thought I was having a fucking heart attack."
"Yeah, I had a whole thing about that."
Trent felt his brain at least calming back down, though his body still felt awful. It was an extremely bizarre sensation. He looked at his hands again. They were still trembling and his breathing was still heavier than he would have liked. His chest hurt. His head hurt.
He looked suddenly back up at her. "You don't have to hang around, this isn't your problem, Lori and you shouldn't have to put up with this."
"What?! No! You're my friend, I'm not just leaving you up here, Trent!" she replied. Then she relaxed a little. "But...I understand where you're coming from. I never wanted anyone around when I was having anxiety problems...but also I didn't want to be alone...it was complicated."
"Yeah," he muttered. "Uh, thanks. I appreciate the help. Ugh God I feel like shit."
"You'll feel bad for the rest of the day, probably. Maybe some of tomorrow, too. I think. It really depends, I guess. Uh. We should talk about something else. It's the best way I calm myself down. Uh, what's been up?"
"Um. Uh...Claire. You remember Claire?"
"Yeah."
"She kinda flipped out and quit her jobs, but it's okay because we were helping her move into Mae's old room. Mae's parents are gonna let her live there for awhile and get herself sorted out."
"That's good! I hope she'll figure something out. She seems nice."
He nodded. "She is. She's really depressed and stressed, but she's sorting things out...ah man. This sucks. I think I'm gonna puke."
"Keep shifting focus," Lori replied. "Uh...um...I think you saw my mom last night? She mentioned running into you."
"Oh. Yeah. She's cool. Yeah, she was hanging out with Mae's parents. They need more parent friends and I guess her and Mae's mom get along really well," he replied. Somehow, even now, he had the wherewithal to remember she'd practically begged him not to tell Lori they were smoking weed.
"Yeah...sometimes I worry...uh, nevermind. Bad time. Uh. Gasmask editing is going well."
"That's good...worry about what?" he asked.
"Just...I dunno."
"Come on, tell me, now I'm interested."
She sighed. "Well I guess if I have your interest that's a good thing. I just-you know, she's great and everything, but sometimes I worry...she never had kids, and she didn't want them. But then she met my dad. And, like, she's never been mean to me or anything, she's really nice actually, but I worry about bothering her too much and maybe making her realize she was right for not wanting kids, that they aren't for her-"
"Lori, no," Trent said, focusing on her. "Lori...she loves you. I...maybe not the best idea to tell you, but you came up last night."
"...in what way?"
He laughed a little. "She was kind of worried about something a little similar, sort of like...she's worried she's doing a bad job being your mom? Lori, trust me, having spoken with both of you about this, and heard you both separately speak about it candidly-she doesn't resent you, Lori. She loves you. So much. It's extremely obvious that she loves you and she loves being your mom. She thinks you and your sister and your dad are just the best. She's so happy. And I'm not saying this just to try and cheer you up, I'm not lying to you or exaggerating. She was...very honest about her feelings and her fears. Like you're being. You both are doing great."
"That's good to hear," Lori said after a long moment. "Um...thanks."
"You're welcome. And thank you. For helping me."
"You're welcome, too." She paused. "What should I do? About my mom?"
"Let yourself trust her, and not just in the obvious ways. If she's telling you that she loves you and she's happy with you...trust that she's telling the truth. Don't let your anxiety make you believe otherwise. Which, uh, wow, after today, lemme tell you, I have a whole new appreciation for just how difficult that is. But you all are good together, from what I can tell. You're a good family."
"All right...thanks." A look of dismay came over her face suddenly. "Ah man, I always do this, making it about me when I'm trying to help you." She sighed heavily.
"No, it's fine, this is helping. I feel less shitty...I just thought to ask, why did you come up here? Not that I'm complaining."
"I saw you walking and followed you. I was actually headed here too. I wanted to think."
"Oh, sorry I threw that off track."
"It's not like you did it on purpose, and this is important."
"Well...thanks again. Seriously. I'm really glad you were here. You helped, without question, in a really big way. I still can't remember how to unlock my phone, even right now."
"Oh yeah, I do that too."
He sighed heavily and picked up his phone, looked at it for a moment. He realized he'd gotten a few text messages. No doubt from his girlfriends asking what was happening. He growled as he tried to open it again. What was his fucking pin? It started with seven, he knew that much. Seven what? Seven...four? That seemed like it might be right?
"How could I forget this? I must unlock my phone fifty times a day," he muttered.
"It'll come back, just give it a little time. Uh, I guess I should text them maybe."
"I would appreciate-"
"Trent!?"
"I'm up here! I'm okay!" he called back.
"We're coming!" Mae cried. She sounded panicked.
"Not too fast! Be careful!" he replied. Mae tended to panic when she thought he was in danger, which, on the one hand, he found very romantic and endearing, but on the other hand, caused her to do stupid things sometimes, or put herself at unnecessary risk.
A moment later her head popped up over the side, followed quickly by the rest of her. As she scrambled up on the roof and came towards him, she started asking what had happened, if he was okay, what was wrong, and Lori came closer.
"Mae," she said, "calm down. He's had an anxiety attack. This isn't helping." The fact that she'd just said that in such a firm tone of voice seemed to briefly throw Mae out of her own anxiety. She looked at Lori for a few seconds, then back at Trent.
"Sorry," she managed, then made a visible effort to control herself and calm down. "Are you okay?" she asked. Bea appeared now.
"Mostly, yeah. Lori really helped me chill out," Trent replied.
"Trent," Bea said, coming up to him and dropping to her knees. "Can I hug you?" she asked, hesitating.
He nodded. As Bea wrapped him in a hug, Mae did the same thing from the other side. For a second he was worried it might kick his anxiety back up, but their presence was deeply comforting. Ann appeared while they were hugging him.
Wordlessly, she walked over and dropped to her knees behind him, then hugged him from the back as the others made room.
"You're okay?" she murmured.
"I'm okay...sorry about this," he replied.
"It isn't your fault," Mae said.
He let out a small, rueful laugh. "Now I get to be on the other side of that," he muttered, thinking about all the times he'd said that exact line to Mae and how unhappy it sometimes made her, how guilty it made her feel.
He felt guilty. This felt like this fault, somehow. Like some sort of weakness he shouldn't have allowed to overwhelm him.
But good lord, overwhelming it had been.
"I guess you were right, Bea," he said as they pulled back from him.
"I knew something was off...what happened?" she asked.
"I'm...not sure. I need some time to process everything. My memories are sorta jumbled…"
"First thing is to get you off this roof and home," Bea said.
He nodded. "Yeah, definitely. God, I feel like shit."
"You're probably going to be, like, really hungry once this all settles. I sometimes am, and I especially was in the beginning," Lori said.
"Taco Buck is close," he murmured as he stood up. His legs felt weirdly weak. "Jeez, why did I fucking climb up on top of a building!? I barely even remember doing it."
"If you aren't ready, we should wait longer," Bea said firmly.
"I can make it," he replied.
"Trent," she said, her voice growing even firmer, "this isn't a time for you acting tough, I don't want you falling off a ladder and dying because you weren't ready."
He sighed. "Okay, maybe I should take a minute." He sat back down and the others sat with him. Ann sat behind him him.
"Lean against me," she murmured.
He did so and she enveloped him in her arms. It felt deeply comforting.
"I should probably go," Lori murmured.
"You don't have to, but if you feel uncomfortable, I won't be upset," Trent replied.
"Okay. Yeah, I'll go. Uh, sorry you feel bad," Lori said, standing.
"Lori," he replied as she began walking away. She paused, looking at him. "Thank you. Seriously. I mean it. This was a really big help."
"You're welcome. Uh, see you later everyone."
They all said bye to her and she scurried away in that way she did when she was feeling uncomfortable or awkward. For a moment, they all just sat there in silence. Trent was mostly grounded again at this point, mentally speaking, and he'd mostly come back to normal physically as well. His stomach was still kind of upset, his chest was sore now, and his limbs felt a little rubbery. He didn't really relish the thought of going down that ladder, but he also knew that there wasn't much of a realistic alternative.
After a moment, he hugged his knees to his chest. "God I regret that," he muttered when he was pretty sure she was out of earshot.
"What? Why?" Mae asked.
"Because she's like fifteen, she shouldn't have to put up with a freaking twenty-something having a goddamned panic attack. It's not her responsibility," he replied.
"Trent, like...she probably feels amazing right now. She got to fucking, like, save you. She was faced with a problem and she handled it well, it seems like. She probably feels like a badass! At least take that away from this."
He thought about it as his emotions continued to settle, occasional spikes of anxiety still hitting, and figured she likely had a point. He thought about how he might feel were their roles reversed. Yeah, he'd feel pretty good if he had actually managed to genuinely help someone like this.
Trent took a deep breath and let it out. "Okay," he said, "I think I'm ready to get down from here."
"Let me and Mae go down first," Ann said, standing. "Absolute worst case scenario, we catch you. Okay?"
"I...all right," he replied. There were a few reasons he was very uncomfortable with that, but he was too tired to argue.
Bea helped him to his feet and the look of worry on her normally stoic face filled him with guilt. Fuck. As much as he was uncomfortable with the notion that he had 'saved' them all, because it wasn't really true, he at least knew that for the entirety of their relationship, he'd been relatively quiet in terms of having problems. Mae, Ann, and Bea all had serious trauma to work through, and he'd been doing his absolute best to help.
And while there was definitely a part of him that felt like he'd earned his turn, he felt like that thought implied they hadn't been taking care of him for the past half year, even though they had. They'd all gone above and beyond to help him out.
But there was another, stronger part of him that felt immense guilt and no small amount of self-hatred and even fear because he knew that he believed, in some deep, dark part of his soul, that his greatest asset, the thing that made him tolerable as a friend and boyfriend, was the fact that he was low maintenance. That he didn't tend to cause problems. That he survived quietly on as little as he could manage.
He hated asking them for anything, he hated needing them, even though he was completely in love with them, and he believed that they were in love with him.
He couldn't shake that feeling though, that mindset.
Trent could feel an intense loathing settling into place, an intense hatred of how pathetic he was being right now, how much he had failed by allowing anxiety to take over his body and turn it against him.
If he was just stronger-
"Trent, will you focus? Please?" Bea asked. He could hear the fear in her voice. She was hardcore, but he imagined she must be feeling a little out of her depth.
He was on the ladder now, gripping the rungs tightly.
"Sorry," he mumbled, and began to descend slowly.
"It's okay, just, you know, slowly, carefully, stay focused. I know you have a lot on your mind right now, but you've gotta try to clear it, focus on getting down to the ground. That's all that matters. One rung at a time."
He sighed. She was right. Even in this depression and self-loathing spiral he knew that.
One rung at a time, he descended. Hand over hand, foot over foot, lower and lower, bit by bit, foot by foot.
Knowing Ann and Mae were below him, and Bea was above him, helped a lot.
That ladder seemed to go on for a really long time, a lot longer than he ever remembered it being, but somehow, finally, it ended. By the time he stepped down onto the ground, his limbs felt rubbery and tired all over again.
"Come on," Bea said, "we drove your Jeep here. Let's get to it and get you home."
"Can we get some Taco Buck? I think Lori's right about the hunger, I'm already starting to feel hungry," he replied.
"Mae and I will go get it," Ann said. "You and Bea get to the Jeep."
He felt the urge to argue but was too emotionally exhausted to give in to it. He just nodded as they walked. Bea led him out of the alleyway towards the Jeep, parked on the street. They got inside as Mae and Bea headed for the Taco Buck.
Bea got into the driver's seat and he got sat in the passenger's seat.
A long moment of silence passed.
"Are you okay?" she murmured.
"Uh...well, I'm done freaking out," he replied. That didn't seem to be enough for her. He sighed softly. "I'm...I don't know. I'm really upset. And confused. And angry."
"Why are you angry?" she asked.
"I'm angry that this happened. I've never been a paragon of mental health but I've never had a panic attack before. I was so fucking shaken up that I couldn't even remember how to unlock my fucking phone. That's why you had to get the call from Lori. Pure fucking luck she followed me up. I really might've died if I'd tried to go back down alone-I don't even know why I went up in the first place!"
"All right, it's-we'll get this figured out. Just...don't be angry." She sighed suddenly. "Sorry, that's not helping. I'm here, for whatever you can think of."
"Thanks," he muttered, hugging himself suddenly and leaning his head against the window. "Fuck."
A lot of thoughts were coming and going, too fast to really process. He tried running them down, chasing after them, following them to their logical conclusions, but he was getting bombarded by feelings and ideas and notions and they were all bad. He felt caught between feeling like a stupid piece of shit and also trying to figure out what the hell this meant.
Before he knew it, Mae and Ann were coming back and he suddenly realized Bea had asked him what he'd wanted from Taco Buck and he'd answered but he couldn't remember what he'd actually said because he was so distracted.
This was bad.
"Let's go home," Bea said, pulling onto the street.