Rising Stars [H.S]

45.

TW-topic of assault & mental illness

I can't believe Liam brought her up.

I mean, seriously.

I was having a decent day until Liam decided to just go ahead and 'accidentally' bring up Amanda. Just the thought of her crossing my mind immediately sent me in a spiral, and I felt myself getting angry as soon as everyone's face dropped.

It pisses me off that they think I'm gonna go crazy or some shit if they mention her. Which yes, maybe I was being a bit dramatic storming out of there, but I didn't want to talk about Amanda. Especially around Olivia. Olivia doesn't need to know what happened with Amanda and me, in fact she really doesn't even need to know who Amanda is in the first place, but now she does.

I didn't mean to get upset at Olivia either, but I couldn't help it. I hate when people try to help me or comfort me. It makes me feel weak and pitiful. I know Olivia was trying to help, but I don't need her help, and I wasn't in the mood for talking either.

It's embarrassing— what happened between Amanda and me. I hate admitting this, but I loved her, and I don't think I will ever not love her. She fucking broke my heart multiple times, but any time she gave me the slightest bit of attention, I let her jump right back into my arms.

It wasn't until the third time she hurt me that I finally told her that I was done, and done for good.

I spent a whole year going on with life, making music, touring, being able to be with any girl I wanted to be with. Of course all of the sex and kissing and small talk was meaningless, but that's besides the point. I was at the peak of life, drugs, sex, and rock n' roll. I was the most carefree I had ever been in life, and it felt fucking great.

Then, I found out what happened to Amanda.

The car crash.

I can't even think about it without wanting to scream, or cry, or just go get high. The image that flashed through my brain when I found out what happened to Amanda was scarring, and it hurts me to even think about what happened to Amanda. It hurts me to think about the pain she must've been in.

She was in so much pain, and I wasn't there.

I hate myself for not being there. For not being able to tell her everything was ok. So she died thinking I hated her. And I hated myself for that.

I step on the gas pedal harder, speeding down the road, probably pissing off a lot of pedestrians and other drivers. The engine of my old car was revving, and you could practically smell the rubber on the hot cement road from the tires. The sun was blazing down on me but my black sunglasses shielded my eyes.

I eventually pulled into my condo, speeding into the driveway and not even having the energy to lock the car as I jump out. I shut the car door and walk towards the front door, digging my keys out of my pocket.

I guess I felt kinda bad for leaving Olivia all alone today. I know she was trying to help, but god I cant stand when she asks me questions not stop. Don't get me wrong— I... like the girl, or whatever, but she does ask a lot of questions. And I get she was just trying to see if I was ok, but I wasn't in the mood.

I throw my keys onto the counter as I walk into the empty house. The pillows were still a mess everywhere and the blankets that were once neatly arranged on the sofa were now on the floor.

"Fucking hell." I mumble under my breath as I bend down and pick up the blankets, folding them and placing them neatly on to the couch, along with the pillows.

Once I finish organizing everything back to the way it was before, I plop myself down on the couch, extending my legs in front of me and resting them on the coffee table. I let out a long sigh and loll my head back, shutting my eyes and enjoying the quietness of the moment.