timothée chalamet imagines

high

your pov

"Timothée?" my voice quivers.

Pounding music and laughter erupts behind him. "What do you want?"

flashback

"God!" Timothée yells, smacking on the table. It makes me jump as I stand across from him.

Hot tears run down my face. "What do you want from me?"

"I don't fucking know, y/n. Maybe for you to not be such a fuck up? For you to stop embarrassing me everywhere we go? For you to be better?" he rambles.

I stare down at the floor, wiping my tears roughly with the sleeve of my sweater. "Why do you have me if you never wanted me for the way I am in the first place?"

He finishes rolling up a blunt and sets it aside with the others, finally looking up at me. "I just thought you would change," he shrugs "but you obviously haven't."

"I know I'll never meet your expectations," I confess "but I know the picture that you paint of me looks better in your mind."

He grabs another rolling paper. "Then why can't you be just that?"

end of flashback

"Are you coming back soon?"

"No." he says sharply.

"I have to talk to you, like, right now. Can you come home, please?"

Mumbles come over the phone. "Just talk to me now."

"Timothée, this isn't something I want to talk about over the pho-"

"Tell me now or don't tell me at all." he snaps.

I think about whether I should tell him now or just wait for him to come home, at whatever hour that is. Shit, it might even be a few days until then honestly. I take a deep breath and hike up some courage.

"I'm changing." I tell him.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm changing," I repeat "not for you, but for me."

"Are you on something right now?"

"No!" I start getting annoyed.

"Then what are you trying to say?"

"I need to stop letting myself down, Timothée. I hate who I am and I want to- I have to change. I can't keep damaging myself, my heart is only built to last one more night of feeling like this."

More mumbling comes over the phone. "And how exactly are you going to change?" the tone of his voice is cocky.

"I don't know, not yet at least."

"You're telling me you want to change and you don't even have a plan to do it?" chuckles surround him "you're insane."

Anger builds up within me. Yes, Timothée can be an ass (especially when he's high) but he can be so much more than that when he's with his friends, like he is tonight.

"Do you not have enough respect to see me try?"

The space falls silent and then loud rustling blows through the speakers. "Y/n." an unfamiliar voice says my name.

"What? Who is this?"

"Uhhhh..." they stall "Tim just left to get us all food from a few blocks away, so, he's not going to be back for a while."

"Bullshit," I scoff "put him back on the phone."

"He's not here." they tell me again.

"Put him back on the phone!"

Then I hear his voice in the background. "Just fucking hang up on her already, fuck!"

"Timothée!" I yell into my phone, only to hear the sound of the line cutting off on the other end.

I know his friends all lie, I know that they don't like me. They always want him for themselves. They're more 'his' than mine at this point.

I chuck my phone at the wall, screaming. I could care less if it's no good afterward or if the screen shatters. I lay down on the bed, pulling at my hair as hot tears fill my eyes.

The tears fall down my face and I start to sob, trying to catch some breath at the same time, but it's just too overwhelming.

flashback

"What's funny?" I ask, shoving my hand into the cookie tray.

He turns to me, eyes bloodshot and droopy. "Look." he points to the window.

I tilt my head. "What?" All I see is the sunrise, it is almost 9:00 A.M anyway.

He scoffs and grabs my head, tilting it even more. "Focus." he giggles.

"Wha-" I squint my eyes.

He looks at me, absolutely losing it. The site is nothing more than a pigeon walking around on the railing of our balcony, but it is so funny. We laugh until we cry, not just about the pigeon, but about the fact that we're laughing so hard too. I take a cookie and put it into his mouth.

"Mmmhhh." he hums, gnawing on the cookie slightly.

"Eat it." I whisper and shove it against his teeth.

He pushes my hand way and takes a bit. "So good." he slurs.

"I know." I laugh again.

end of flashback

I'll always miss the memories of the mornings we were high. They were some of our best.

I get off the bed, going over to my phone. When I pick it up, I'm not shocked. The screen is shattered, just like I predicted and the sides are busted.

I open up my contacts and call my best friend.

"Hello?" she groans.

"Y/f/n."

"Wha- what's wrong?" she asks, a bit of panic in her voice.

"Can I come over," I sniffle "please?"

She clears her throat. "Yeah. Yes, of course. Is everything okay?"

"I'll just tell you when I get there."

"Okay," she says "drive safe."

"I will." I hang up, put my phone in my pocket and grab my keys.

I stand in the doorway, tears still running down my face as I look at our bedroom.

The bed's undone, the curtains are completely open and the city lights seem brighter than they have ever been.

I take in a deep breath, I've had enough. I can't stay here anymore, I can't be with him either.

It's too much, I won't do it. I'm leaving now and I'm leaving for good. I walk out of Timothée's apartment, getting into my car outside and start to drive to my best friend's house.

Music is what I need to drown out my thoughts as I start to go on my thirty minute drive. I connect my phone by bluetooth and press 'play,' not caring about what song plays.

"I hope you think of me high

I hope you think of me highly, when you're with someone else."

A/N: might delete in a little bit!!