You Can't Heal Me-salvis

I Despise You

Cw: sex implied, panic attack (idk not really, just in case?)

--Travis pov--

Sal finally stopped urging conversation, I was able to go about what I was supposed to be doing. Luckily nothing dramatic happened tonight, hour upon hour came by quickly.

Well, that was a lie. I had just spaced out the whole time. The faint taste of lemon lingered, but my mouth mostly tasted of alcohol now.

Black dots specked around my vision everytime I went a bit too fast, I felt nauseous and dizzy.

I pushed through it nonetheless. It felt good, I liked the "out of it" feeling. I glanced over to Sal, he seemed to have fallen asleep. I wasn't really sure, his mask made it hard to tell.

A part of me wondered why he even came here in the first place, we're not close and never were. I don't think.

I tried to remember my highschool years, only foggy memories of teachers and Larry came to mind. Some of Sal or the rest of whoever was in his group.

Not much of my parents came to mind either, I knew they were in the picture just nothing specific came back to me.

My mother was a kind lady. She was the person I could fall on if I needed it. My father was a preacher, I don't remember much of him either though.

Just that I fucking hate him.

I wasn't sure completely why, just a gut feeling was always there. Every time I saw him a sense of dread washed over me, fear. I was always scared. It was probably just disfigured childhood memories, maybe I didn't understand.

Cuz why could you hate a man you didn't remember?

It was always my fault, I was an... aggravating kid.

"Hey Travis! How you doing? Anything I can do for you?" The person's smugness rubbed off in their voice, it ticked me off. I looked up to wherever the guy was.

He leaned over the counter, obviously drunk and high. I didn't look up to him yet, my eyes were glued to the counter below.

"Just gonna stand and stare?" He teased.

"Fuck off" I replied. My head grew dizzier by the second, I wasn't sure if I could stand up for long so I leaned on the counter.

"Sorry, you doing alright?" He walked over in front of me. Jeez, just piss off already. Why is everyone always up in my face.

"I said fuck off" I mumbled and gave him a certain -welcoming- gesture.

"Man, I come here everyday and you're always wasted or on the verge of passing out." I put my head in my hands and prayed to whatever listened for him to go away.

I didn't respond. I didn't look at him.

"Travissss, c'mon man. You know me, asshole." I forced myself to look up to the stranger.

He wore a red and black checkered flannel with a black shirt under and jeans.

Phillip.

Panic quickly overcame me, my heart raced and I shook slightly. Why would he be here?

Just the sight of him made me body run cold.

"Sorry, don't know you. Wrong person."

"Dude, c'mon. You can't fake with me, you know thisss." His hooded eyes stared at me. He slurred his words and stumbled.

"I said I don't know you." I simply replied. I wasn't going to put myself through that again, especially not with him.

I tried to block that memory so much, nothing I did could make me forget. Nothing could make me feel any less sinful.