He could feel the gun, heavy against his skin. The cool metal against his abdomen, releasing adrenaline through his veins. That may have been caused by the drugs in his system, or the 2 shots of tequila he downed before. He was stood in the middle of the road, his coat zipped up to the top, the rain drowning his already messy hair. He’s given up. He’s not sure whether to shoot himself, or shoot her. Both options sound appealing. He wants to kill. He needs to kill. The option of killing her seems so pleasant, and he’d no longer have anything to be mad at, but, at the same time, so deterring. He’d never see her brown eyes shine under the moonlight, staring up at it in admiration, or the way she’d flaunt around in his button ups (they’d barely covered her behind) or they way she’d wrap her arms around herself; making herself one with whatever record was playing; allowing the soft music to caress her, and embrace her in a way that no person ever could. Yet, he probably won’t ever witness that again, so it’s a lose lose situation. A deflated sigh left his mouth, and once again, he moved off the road and called George, who was constantly there to rescue him when these incidents occurred. At first, George held pity for Matty, who was slightly depressed because of the heartbreaking break up he went through after a two and a half year relationship. Then, it got to be too much. Matty would go out every night, not caring that he had his corporate job to worry about the next day, or his liver, and got trashed. Quite literally, as some nights, he’d end up covered in vomit. George was always his saviour, but now, five months later, he’s getting tired of Matty’s reckless behaviour.
“George, oh George,” Matty sobbed into the phone, his breathing ragged and tears rolling down his cheeks. A deflated sigh escaped George’s lips, which was something Matty chose to ignore. Even he knew that George was beginning to tire of his behaviour, and that he needed to change. He was the reason the band was falling apart. He was the reason they were behind on rent, he was the reason that she left. Everything horrible was because of him. And it sucked.
George arrived ten minutes later, a cigarette between his lips, and the Blue Nile’s Hats softly hummed through the crappy speakers of his crappy car. Another sigh escapes George’s lips, muffled by the cigarette. Matty rolled his bloodshot eyes, and slid into the passenger seat of his Mitsubishi Magna. No words were exchanged between the duo for a few minutes, until George decided to diminish the silence.
“Matty, mate, this really needs to stop,”
“I know, but-,”
“No buts. I’m sick of hanging around to pick up the pieces. I was understanding. I gave you a shoulder to cry on. I paid your half of the rent, I stood up for you when Adam and Ross said that you were off your rocker, and that you were overreacting. I’ve sobered you up and given words of wisdom, but it’s been five months - almost six, and enough’s enough. She’s got another lad, why can’t you just forget about her?’ She’s got another bloke. She’s hooked him like she hooked you. Matty’s heart went from sharp, large shards of glass that have slowly been stuck together with duct tape, to shattered into small miniscule shards in seconds. Irreplaceable, nothing left. It’s so far gone, that it’s beyond repair. She’ll probably never look at him again. George’s words disintegrated into nothingness, the constant words ringing through his head she’s got another lad. Despite the fact that the relationship didn’t work, and all they did was argue, he loved it. He loved the way her face looked when they fought, and the way the tears freely flowed when it was over. He loved when they watched ‘Friends’ together on the couch, hidden under the blanket, bodies intertwined like their minds. Even though they were so wrong for each other, they were so right. The fact that she has another bloke seems unfathomable, even though it was known from the start it would happen. They weren’t made to last; they were made to break each other, except he didn’t break her, she broke him. She smashed him into pieces like a sledgehammer into the ground. There’s nothing left of him without her. There were no words.
