anxious and alone |dnf|

stay there

TW: anxiety, withdrawal, mention of drugs, addiction

George's POV:

I decided to stop bothering Clay. He clearly didn't want anyone to talk to him right now. I'd been crying on and off, the thought of something bad happening to him scared me deeply. But that was until he called me. I picked up immediately, beginning the conversation with questions like where he was and why he'd been ghosting everyone. 

It sounded like he grabbed something and opened it, making a "pop" sound. He then groaned and threw something, maybe that object, at a hard surface. The second I heard him speak I knew something was off. His tone and the minor stutter he let slip clearly indicated what was going on. He was crying and blamed me for making himself a certain way. 

My heart grew heavy and slowed down its pace. "You're scaring me." I said.

"They won't g-give me a-anymore." He sobbed, the air seeming to slip out of his lungs at every word. I was so confused. So fucking confused that it hurt my brain. Then, it clicked. 

"You.. you took too many. Oh my god." Tears ran down my cheeks as I slid down the side of my wall. Clay continued to cry and tell me about how he hated me. How he despised what I did to him. Also, the pain that he was in, was agonizing. 

"You're the reason I'm broken," he said. "I loved you." Then he hung up. 

He loved me? What?

I called him, hearing it ring for a minute and then going to voicemail. Again, I called, putting it on speaker as I went to our messages and spammed him with texts. 

"Clay answer me right the hell now." 

"PLEASE!"

"FUCKING ANSWER ME, I SWEAR TO GOD, PLEASE CLAY!"

"I just want to help you."

He finally answers. He sounded like he was sobbing even harder. "Clay I'm sorry," I say, trying to hold back the pain in my voice. It hurt so bad hearing him tell me he hates me, I couldn't get over that. He wasn't even able to speak he was crying so much, but this time it sounded sadder. 

"I never intended to hur-" I began, but he cut me off.

"N-no." His breathing sounded like hiccups. "I-I didn't m-mean it, George." He dragged out my name and sobbed loudly at the end. "It j-just hurts so... so b-bad. I'm s-sor-...sorry, I d-didn't mean what I-I said."

I wipe my hand across my wet face and smile weakly. "It's okay. It's okay, I know." I said. 

"I can barely m-move. My b-body is o-on fire. I just n-need more." 

"No. Clay, I need you to listen to me. I need you to stay in your house and ride it out." he let out a small whimper. "I c-can't."

"You HAVE to. If you don't it will get worse. You cannot go and try to find something. Can you please promise me that you will stay there?" Everything went silent, even Clay's crying. 

"Hello?" I said while another tear fell down my cheek. 

"I... I'm sorry G-George, I c-can't promise you t-that. I-I'm so s-sorry." With that, he hung up, but when I tried calling back it went straight to voicemail. 

"Fuck! NO! FUCK! HE'S...gone." I stand up and walk over to my desk, throwing a few items off it. "HE NEEDED ME AND I WAS SO OBLIVIOUS!!!" I choked up and fell to the floor, holding my face in my hands and crying into them. 

<<<>>>

I'd fallen asleep while curled up on the floor. When I woke up it was raining and dark. I checked my phone but had no notifications. What am I going to do? 

Ping. My phone goes off, revealing an interesting Twitter notification. 

"Recommended for you: When tf is George going to go to America? Does he STILL not have his visa?"

"Holy shit." I whispered. The truth is, I've had my visa for a few months now. It was Clay who didn't want me to go live with him while in his... well.. mess of a house. That notification sparked something that I didn't think would even be a possibility. I stand up slowly and reach for my desk, opening a drawer and pulling out a little piece of paper; of which contained an address. 

"Hey Siri, show me the closest flights to Florida from now."

~

Here is your warning for the next chapter. It is going to be a lot. 

Thank you for all the support, ily.

Also it feels weird writing now that we KNOW what dream looks like. I have a FACE to the person I'm writing about?!?!?!?!?! WEIRD. But dreams also really pretty I love him SM.