𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐲 𝐌𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 ✧ (𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐝) [on hold]

✧ Chapter 18 : The Soulmates ✧

I woke up in a sharp gasp. I felt a mattress under my back. It was wet beneath me - in my own sweat, I reckoned in slight disgust. It was really uncomfortable and way too warm under the bedsheet. I panted softly in the dark.

In the dark? Bedsheets? What's going on? Where am I?! I was at the party; everything was for the best and then, blackout.

I couldn't remember much, actually. Alcohol - which would explain the lack of memories and the headache. Weed too, I remembered. And... Oh my God...

I felt that I was no longer shirtless. I was wearing a hoodie slightly too big for me. There was an ice pack on my forehead. It slipped on my lap as I sat up.

I started breathing a little deeper as I panicked. I stood up shakily, feeling all the hostility of the environment I had been forced into. I shivered from the cold as soon as I left the bedsheets.

I started hyperventilating and tears made their way out of my eyes. I felt like I was dying inside. I brought my hands to my face and rubbed it, leaning back on a wall to stay steady. But my legs decided to give up on me and I progressively slid down until I was crouching on the floor. My jaw clenched tightly.

I sat down and started sobbing in the dark. I was nauseous, but I was sure that I couldn't throw up even if I tried, because I was feeling so terribly empty.

I felt so miserable that I just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry all the tears of my body until I died from dehydration. Maybe I should have died at that party. Maybe I should die now.

I'm worthless. I'm nothing. A pitiful junkie, blubbering in the dark like a crybaby over his miserable, uninteresting fate. I am not 'sad'. I am the sadness. This is me.

After an eternity spent crying, I gathered my pathetic self and hoisted myself on my feet. I spotted my phone on a nightstand; it was a miracle that I hadn't lost it somewhere.

I grabbed it then I groped my way in the dark, heading for the slightest source of light in the room that came from beneath a closed door. I banged my foot on some furniture, which made me angrier than it should have.

My hand grabbed the doorknob and opened the door, fearful of what was on the other side. I was ready to run for my life if needed.

I found myself stepping in a place I knew from having been there many times before. The light blinded me, and it took some time for my blurry vision to adjust.

And there she was, minding her own business. I took a few hesitant steps, disoriented. "Gerard?" she looked up from the book she was reading when she heard me - or felt my presence, who knows.

Lindsey stood up from a couch and walked to me. "Hey. How are you feeling? What happened? Are you okay?" The questions flooding out of her mouth irked me in a way they never had before.

She looked at me worriedly and put a hand on my shoulder. I swatted it away. "Water." I demanded softly. My mouth and throat were unpleasingly drier than a desert. Speaking was almost painful and speaking annoyed me so much.

Lindsey blinked confusedly and looked around. She served me a glass of water. Snatching it from her hands, I gulped it down eagerly, spilling some on my chin. I already felt a little better.

Lindsey eyed me in an odd way. If I cared enough to look at her closely, I would see that she seemed to be containing her anger, glaring at me. She suspected that something was up with me probably more than myself, which frustrated me. I am fine.

"Where's Frank?" I asked confusedly with a groggy voice, looking around. My jaw was clenching and unclenching repeatedly. I was on edge and knowing that he was away was enough to trigger slight anxiety.