Broken Feathers

I'm Not The Only One

Chapter Seventeen: I'm Not The Only One (Sam Smith) 

  

I wasn't sure how I had functioned before Star. Before she had come into my life, I suppose I had been barely getting by. Now that she had been so forcefully removed from day-to-day proceedings, I had little motivation to do anything but paint. Kalem had stopped reminding me to eat meals, I hadn't left the flat in days, and the shower had been used so sparsely that I had considered – briefly – to just get the water supply cut off. 

The paint found my canvas like it had limbs, curling around the white paper and crafting a picture I didn't even know I could create. The colours blended together, pale pinks and soft yellows, mixed with harsh reds and lonely blues. And when I stood back, I felt the bile rise in my throat, felt the wave of pain in my chest radiate through my bones.  

A pregnant Star stared back at me, her eyes blue and innocent and her stomach swollen with bastard child. The alien child...the child that potentially broke us up...housed in the woman I loved, unaware of the heartbreak that it inevitably caused. 

Anger coursed through me, my fingers wrenching the painting from the easel and throwing it into the centre of the room and letting it land roughly against the hard floors. She was a bitch. They all were. Everyone in this world...they didn't have a point. None of this had a point. Everyone was in it for themselves. This life. This existence. None of it mattered. 

And everything just faded to black in the end. 

There was a knock at the door, jolting me out of the self-destructive thoughts that I was having. The paint brush poised in my hand, I glared, hoping that whoever was on the other side would realise that I didn't want to see anyone. Even Kalem had given me a wide berth as of late. There wasn't a person in this place that would have cared if I'd upped and left. 

"Jay?" 

A familiar female voice rang through my ears. Frowning, I pushed the painting to one side, stalking across the bare floor and wrenching the blasted door open. On the doorstep stood Frankie, hair scraped back into one of those crazy knots Star used to put her hair in, and her face bare of any make up. 

"Kalem isn't in," I snapped. Could a man not mope in the peace of his own home? I could have done without the reminders that there was this whole life for Star that I was no longer included in. 

"I came to see you," she murmured, biting her lip. Now, I wasn't exactly on the best terms with Frankie, but I had heard about Kalem raving about the way she nibbled that lower lip. And it did nothing for me. Star had ruined women for me. All I could do when I saw someone attractive was mournfully compare her to the woman who had, until recently, resided in my bed.   Fuck, I missed her. 

"About?" I mumbled edgily, sorely tempted to just slam the door in her face. 

"Star," she replied shortly. "Can I come in?" I sighed wearily, moving out of the way to let her in. Damn, this had better be a short visit. I had paintings to do and damage to be created. Frankie was ruining my schedule. 

She stood in the centre of the room, looking around curiously. I leaned against the wall, staring at her, waiting for her to talk about whatever was so damn important. 

"She's really miserable, Jay," she began, rubbing the back of her neck, "but she thinks you don't want her anymore." 

"I don't," I bit out. I had heard the rumours; that she had slept with that asshole. Now she was pregnant and convinced that the baby wasn't mine. I didn't want her back but at the same time, I wanted nothing more than to have her by my side.