Mixtapes & Polaroids | Sam x Deena

36

Paul Hayes is a man of many layers.

A man of many faces, half of them hidden in the dark. To the ones who knew him in school, Paul was nothing more than the obnoxiously loud jock. He was the one downing beers like it was water at parties, the kind of boy who found joy in screaming absurdly sexual things in a crowd, or whose idea of a great prank was tripping someone in the halls.

He had a very distinct laugh, too. It was low and hoarse, but with a childish sense of vibrancy to it. Almost as if he spent his nights screaming his heart out and came to school every morning with a sore, sanded throat. He stole kisses from girls and took them on dates to Turf's, if he really liked them he'd take them to the lake.

Not to do anything, really, but just to look at the water.

Paul really liked the lake, he liked the way the water ripples with the slightest gust of wind, he liked the way it reflected all things pretty in the sky and yet held its own darkness within. Maybe he'd even say he admired it, that he wanted to be just like it.

Paul and Deena met on his Junior year. Deena was a Freshman, always trailing the halls with Simon and Kate, a small smile on her face. Sometimes they'd share a bus to out of town games, since Deena was in band and they usually had to share with the football team. Now you've heard the story, Paul asked Deena out— she said no and all went to shit.

But that's only from Deena's perspective.

Perspectives always exist like different shapes. All with different sides, like for example Paul was meant to go to college, much to everyone's surprise. The rumors were always twisted and hazy, but the most prominent one was Arizona. It was also the truth. Paul got into a community college almost two thousand miles away.

The day of his graduation might just have been the last happy day Paul has had, the last day he got to have dreams, the last day the part of himself that lived in the light and held the last twinge of vibrancy existed. So when the domino effect of his downfall began, Paul took what was left of money he could spend and he bought a trailer. He bought a trailer and he moved it to the lake, so that even on his very worst days he'd come home to the water.

Even when he stopped looking at his reflection.

It was a rather cloudy Wednesday morning. The rain had dwindled into a light drizzle, but the air remained cold as ice. So with a warm cup of cheap, convenience store coffee Paul sat out by the front of his trailer, under the makeshift porch ceiling which really was just a used tarp and a foldable camping chair.

He had been living there for almost a year, and even then he wasn't sure if the silence kept his sanity or drove it away. But when he spots Anna rushing towards him from her car, he knew peace would never linger for him that day.

"Oh for fuck's sake." Paul mumbles into his near empty mug, setting it down as the younger girl comes to a stop a few steps away. Her shoes practically dug into the wet soil with how hard she was stomping.

"Where have you been? This is the fifth time i've been here." She crosses her arms over her chest, standing there in a white top and a skirt that was too short to be worn on a day as cold as that— but Anna is Anna, and she didn't care as long as she looked good.

"I was busy." He sighs, getting up and heading to his trailer door.

"Busy lying?" Anna follows him inside, much to his dismay as she stood by the doorway staring him down like she was trying to set him on fire with her mind.

"Don't fucking start with me." Paul warns, plopping down on the small, patchy couch on the end of the trailer.

"Dad's looking for you. He's not getting any better." Anna's cold tone falters as she spoke, arms finally untangling as they fall to her sides. Paul won't even look at her, like an unspoken act of violence that shattered his heart.