Die In California

64

Devyn's POV:

JP didn't come up to bed that night.
Hell, he didn't come home until around four in fucking morning.

I just knew it was going to be a rough day at Universal Studios for him, when I heard him stumbling around until about five, when he must've finally fallen asleep. We were getting up at eight to get there for nine...

Pops and Andrea had spoiled us all, and bought us all early access tickets, which of course sent Casie and Wyatt into crazed excitement. I just knew they'd be getting up when the sun rose, to be the first waiting in line. And that's exactly what we did.

I woke up at half seven in the morning (thankfully, Casie was still peacefully dozing with her father), feeling shitty. It wasn't the first time, but this wasn't from a night of heavy drinking and partying. It was from a night of letting tears soak into my cheeks and pillow, as I let exhaustion consume me. 

My body felt like it had doubled in weight, my eyes were red-rimmed and stung like a fucking bitch, and my cheeks were puffed up and blotchy. It wasn't attractive.

So, I headed straight to the shower - not before glancing over my shoulder at JP's untouched side of the bed - and focused on getting myself ready and more presentable. For Casie and Wyatt's sake.

I scrubbed my body to rid myself of the heaviness on my shoulders, then took my time running through my skincare routine in an attempt to soothe the blotchiness and puffiness. But a whole lot of makeup was still needed to make me look at least somewhat alive - along with my classic winged eyeliner and mascara, just to keep up the appearance that everything was okay. Even if it didn't feel like it.

My outfit for the day of family fun consisted of black skinny jeans with rips in the knees, along with a white t-shirt of JP's that I'd taken a liking to, a black zip-up hoodie, and my black leather jacket.

It took a few minutes of absently staring in the mirror to hype myself up enough to plaster a smile on my face. But once I'd tied the top half of my knotted hair up in a sloppy bun, and spritzed myself with perfume, I thought I had my facade pretty much nailed. 

Inside, I still felt remnants of the heartache from the night before. My chest still felt heavy, my eyes still stung and threatened to overspill at the slightest inconvenience, and my emotions once again felt incredibly fragile. I knew I'd be walking on eggshells all day. But I had to do this for my little love, Casie. It was the least she deserved in this fucking cruel world.

When I headed downstairs to start on breakfast, I found JP sprawled out on the couch, his eyes closed and his mouth carelessly hanging open. I could smell the alcohol on him from the opposite side of the couch. Whiskey, as usual.

I bit back a groan as I slapped his foot, which was overhanging the arm of the couch. Miraculously, it startled him awake, causing him to groan and run a hand over his face. To make things just that little bit better for him, I turned on the light, and watched him wince in pain. "Get up." I grumbled, sparing him one last glance before walking through to the kitchen.

Since today was going to be all about Wyatt and Casie, I decided to make their favourite; blueberry and chocolate chip pancakes, with scrambled eggs and bacon. Sometimes they put extra chocolate sauce on top, sometimes it was strawberry sauce. Other times, Wyatt would choose to drown his breakfast in tomato sauce. We all questioned it, but he was insistent that it was good, and it never did any good to argue with him.

"You would be ten and I'd be driving you to school. You would tell all your friends that you thought I was cool. And you would have all the love in my heart." I quietly sang as I watched the food cook - well, I was more staring in the direction of the pan.