The Things That I Know || George Michael

twenty-one - listen to me

Note: this chapter contains heavy depictions of suicide and deterioration of mental state.

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"Why the fuck don't people listen to me, eh, Mum? ... What's that about?" The slow, slurred rhetorical questioning is barely audible from a moderately drunken George, as he looks woozily into the night sky. He hadn't intended on drinking so heavily this evening; however, due to the change in circumstances, he now finds himself in a back alley just a few blocks away from the centre of London. Scattered around him are numerous crushed, empty beer cans; and a near-empty bottle of vodka. Combined with the several drinks he had at the bar with Andrew, he can barely think straight. What he can remember, though, is how angry he is about the situation regarding his seemingly countless problems; and the way in which Andrew spoke to him about them.

"Everyone thinks ... they know me. And how I should be dealing ... with all this shit." He clumsily pours more of the contents from the vodka bottle down his neck, no longer caring for his responsibilities neither as an adult nor a parent. "Truth is, Mum ... I don't know either. I just ... want to forget about it all." His sluggish monologue continues as he finishes the bottle in his hand, tossing it carelessly to the ground. It smashes to pieces on impact with the concrete below him, startling him as if he wasn't the cause of the noise. "Why ... can't I just forget about it all?"

His eyes glisten as fresh tears form over his amber irises; with no hesitation, he allows them to fall over his thick, dark lashes and roll down his cheeks. His lightly-stubbled jawline becomes moistened, the sensation causing him to sloppily wipe away the tears in natural reaction. As he rids them, more tumble from his eyes; and he plays a losing game of catch-up, in an attempt to eradicate them all completely. Eventually, he gives in, letting out his turmoil in loud sobs, which echo down the back alley. Because it's so late, only the odd individual or group of kids walk around the streets of the capital city; so he is safe to be as loud as he wishes with very little consequence. Without applying any logic to his actions, he punches the brick wall next to him; of course, this jars his knuckle harshly, and he cries out in pain. He tries to flex his fingers, but the pain rolls down each one, radiating into his wrist. Despite the intense discomfort he has inflicted upon himself, he evaluates irrationally that he does not care for the result of anything he does. The next thing he does, is fall to his knees, and into the glass from the bottle he just broke. The shards pierce straight through his clothing, leaving cuts on his lower legs; he feels the sensation of this, but doesn't hold any concern over the fact.

"I'm ... so done ... " He murmurs to himself, taking a moment to catch his breath before he plans to perform his next reckless act. He stands himself up messily; the little pieces of glass cling to his jeans, threatening to stab at his skin with one wrong movement. Light blood staining adorns the mid-blue denim that covers his legs, from the force he applied when he was positioned on the ground. Very little thought goes into his next moves, as he flees the back alley in search of a way to further vent his emotions.

"He could be anywhere in London," Andrew points out, as himself and Levi trawl the streets of London rigorously. It's been a solid couple of hours since Levi arrived in the capital city already. "I can't believe I've fucked up this badly."

"We will find him," Levi assures him, although he is secretly fearful that this won't be the case. "We just need to keep looking."

"Do you think it's worth contacting the police?" Andrew suggests. "Or will they just fob us off because it's not been twenty-four hours since George went missing?"

"Let me try calling him." Levi brings his phone from his pocket, clicking onto George's contact number. The phone rings a few times, before going straight to voicemail. "He's not answering. You don't think he's upset with me too, do you?"