"There's a word I found recently. Evanescence. It made me think of you. It made me think of us. Were we just a dream, Sebastian?"
TW : Key themes of suicide and trauma.
WARNING: This is Book Two. Please read "affluenza" first to avoid any spoilers...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
TW// No specific warning, just kind of a heavy chapter
I'D NEVER SEEN more rainbows in my entire life.
The parade was lively and so crowded that my arm was roped around Roman and Harlow's so I couldn't get lost. There were what seemed to be hundreds of people here, all as open and proud as the people I'd seen at The Pub. I could see what Roman meant now—it didn't matter what anyone here identified as; we were all just people.
We had just finished dancing at a performance by someone dressed in perhaps the coolest outfit I'd ever seen, with purple fluffy pants and a rhinestone crop top. Moxie had suggested we stop dancing to catch our breath and grab some drinks, which was fine by me. My throat felt drier than the Sahara desert from all the screaming.
We reach a drinking station and Harlow instantly purchases a round of shots, setting them down in front of us. I shake my head at the drink; it was only midday and I wasn't too eager to get drunk tonight. "Just water for me, thanks."
"Want one, Romano?" Harlow asks, pushing two shots in front of Roman. I wait for him to decline it, but he doesn't. Instead, he loops his fingers around the tiny shot glass and swallows it in one go, no chaser necessary. Harlow cheers him on and Moxie pats his back before downing her own shot.
They complete another round of shots and I can see Roman change from the alcohol in his system. His shoulders weren't as rigid and his eyes were lighter like he'd forgotten all of his troubles all at once. Nova finishes his third shot just as Roman grabs his fourth. "Wanna slow down, dude?"
Roman swallows back the fourth shot, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm all good."
I raise my eyebrows. "Are you sure?" I didn't know exactly why Roman didn't drink, but something tells me that it was a good reason. "You're looking slightly tipsy."
Roman laughs loudly, much louder than usual. "And you're looking absolutely beautiful," he says, giving me a bright smile before turning around and ordering a drink that I could barely even pronounce.
I blush hard at his words, 100% sure that the rest of his friends had heard and not entirely knowing what to make of that. I wouldn't know how to explain our relationship to them. I didn't even know what they knew.
We finish at the bar shortly after that, Roman, Harlow, and Moxie taking bright red drinks with loopy straws to go as we walk through the parade. An arm wraps around my shoulder and I turn expecting to see a slightly tipsy Roman but instead see Nova. "Hello," he says, dragging out the 'o.'
"Hey," I respond back, suddenly nervous. "I didn't mean to break his nose, for the record. I mean, I meant to hit him but not in his nose and I especially didn't think it'd break and I know that sounds counterintuitive since I, you know, actively punched him, but I felt so awful afterward. I literally almost cried and I drove him to the hospital so that has to count for—"
