Emotional Boys 1990

15 - END

A.N. Y'all are so lucky there's a second book coming cause this ending chapter is sad as fuck.

'There's considerable room for long-term yields to come down so long as inflation is tamed. Short-term rates peak at about 6.25 percent Uncertainties, Mainly from Washington.'

The words float in my mind, not sitting with me correctly as I tap my fingers against my coffee table, holding the New York Times paper in my other hand.

Marshall didn't come back last night, and it's weighing on my mind more than I want it to. I don't know where he went, but he clearly stayed somewhere.

I don't know how I will react when he comes back, I won't really be mad, but I'll absolutely want an explanation for whatever the fuck it was.

My head perks up slightly at the sound of the door being knocked on. The sound that vertebrates is slow... depressing, something I feel on edge listening to.

My body lifts, automatically deciding to head towards it, feeling slightly heavy, as though my mind were trying to fight back subtly.

My fingers wrap around the door knob, cold, attempting to deter me. He's on the other side of the door, I just know he is.

The knob twists, next is the slight force in pulling the door open, and what I dread most is staring me right in the face.

Not only is it Marshall, that doesn't worry me. His eyes are red, puffy, like he's either high or has been crying for a long time. His cheeks are rosy, very clearly from the crying, giving it's not at all cold outside.

"I need to... uhm- uh... talk to you..." he mumbles, eyes concentrated on the front step rather than any part of my body or my eyes.

"Fucking yeah, I need an explanation" I laugh dryly, opening the door wider and taking a seat on the couch, cynically watching him step in and slowly make his way over to me. He stops still in front of me, his hand faintly trembling, eyes slightly lifting to meet mine.

"I don't really know how to say this but uhm... I've been thinking of you leaving for New York in the next week and a bit and uh... I was just thinking of where our relationship was realistically going..." he begins, letting out a sigh that just tells me I'm in for a world of hurt.

"What do you mean realistically..?" I prod, looking up at him, frustrated that he won't just spit out what he really needs to say.

"I don't think we're going to last Esdeath. I'm clearly not going anywhere, I've only sold seventy copies of my album and it's been a while. You're moving to New York, you'll meet people way smarter and more good looking then me, someone who will actually make sense being with you. I'm not what you want..." he rambles on, making my heart beat quicken slightly, disturbed by his form of breaking up with me.

"So you're breaking up with me before I have the chance to hypothetically cheat on you when I'm gone..? Is that your logic..? Where the fuck were you last night by the way?" I stand up, crossing my arms over my chest and looking at him with a skeptical look, suddenly feeling incredibly angry.

"Not- not exactly- See uhm- that's where shit gets uh... complicated" he sputters out, not giving me any clear answer, dragging this out more than necessary.

"Spit it out, you're pissing me off" my voice remains calm and cold, though I feel like shouting at him.

Stop wasting my time.