On The Other Side

Chapter 42 - Invincible

CLAY
—
5 years later...
—

"This one's for you, Georgie," I whisper as I lift the necklace to my lips and gently kiss it.

I make my way to the stage, greeted by an ecstatic crowd erupting in cheers, yells, and applause. As the music gradually fades in, tears well up in my eyes.

—Invincible (like u) by Dream—

'Didn't know what it was,
thought we moved just because,
Mad at you I was so young.
How did you bottle it up?'

I swallow hard, scanning the crowd in search of Nick and Karl. When our eyes finally lock, they both nod at me, wearing proud smiles that ease my nerves.

'Birthdays and Christmas came,
they all just seemed the same.
Somehow I still complained.
How did you keep yourself sane?'

I gaze out at the audience as their bracelets begin to glow like stars, and their voices join mine, creating a harmonious chorus that fills the venue.

'Tears fell, but you never did.
Might lose, but you never quit.
Think it's easy, but it never is.
No, it never is, no, it never is.'

A small smile plays on my lips before I shift my gaze upward to the starry sky. The crowd follows suit, pointing up as their voices grow even louder.

'Cause all I know
is without you I got nothing,
hard against the ropes.
And after all this time,
still rolling with the punches.
Wondering if I'm invincible like you?'

After the incident with Pablo, we went to court and testified. We told them everything, about how he kidnapped us and had us in his basement, how he raped George, how Nick helped us escape.

However, he shifted the blame onto his schizophrenia and got sent to a mental institution.

For a whole month after the court, George cried every day because he was scared. I kept telling him that things would be okay and that the place Pablo was sent to had strong security, so there was no way he could get out.

Since George spent most of his days at home, feeling paranoid, I started taking him with me to the studio.

Writing songs with me and helping me with the melodies made him happy and he looked like he forgot about everything while he was in the studio.

Although we wrote songs together, George never had the chance to hear the finished versions.

Because he was right. The mental institution Pablo was put in, didn't have the best security and he managed to escape.

One year after i got out of the hospital, Nick and Karl were at work, and I was in the studio. George called me, asking if he could come to the studio, and I called an Uber to pick him up and drive him to me.

The Uber driver turned out to be one of Pablo's associates, and I can't imagine the fear and horror that George experienced.

I received a call from the hospital, informing me that George had overdosed and was fighting for his life. I rushed to the hospital and remained by his side throughout the day until his body couldn't hold on any longer, and he died in my arms.

I remember looking down at him. His grip on my hand loosened as he exhaled a deep breath. He didn't even have the chance to close his eyes.

I stared down at him, desperately trying to deny the reality. But over time, his irises expanded, consuming the entirety of his pupils.

On September 16th, 2023, 9:32PM, George was pronounced dead.

That night, part of me died with him.

—Black Friday by Tom Odell—

They told me he was gone and I screamed. I wailed, I cried and I screamed. As loud as I could. I halfway hoped that if he could hear me screaming on his way to heaven, he would turn around and come back to me.

The following day, the police informed me that street cameras had captured the Uber driver stopping at a location, where he picked up Pablo. They later discovered that Pablo had forcibly injected an excessive amount of heroin into George's vein and then into his own.

The driver ran away and was never found until this day and Pablo died instantly.

The reason me and George met, is the same reason why I'll never get to look into his eyes ever again.

As the song gradually fades out, I carefully place the microphone back onto its stand and pull a folded piece of paper from my pocket.

"Dear Georgie," I begin to read, my voice wavering as tears stream down my face, "The world stopped turning the day you died. I felt it. In my bones. In my heart.
In every fibre of my being. I felt it. The sun stopped being warm. The nights stopped being cool. The birds no longer sang. When you died, I did too. I want you to know that you were the one I dreamed of, and I will look for you in every lifetime until we finally stay. I hope you're out there somewhere, smiling like we used to." My emotions threaten to overwhelm me, and part of me wants to flee the stage, but I can't bring myself to do it.

I'm doing this for him.

"Grief, I've learned, is really just love. It's all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go. And even though I'm still trying to understand why the universe brings two people together only to tear them apart, part of me is glad you're no longer here, because all that life gave you was pain and I hope now, you're happy, even if it's not with me. I know that there's a version of us somewhere, that survived. I love you, Georgie. Forever yours, Clay."

As the stage lights dim, I clutch the necklace and press my lips to it once more. The necklace is a tiny bottle with George's ashes in it. That way, he'll always be close to my heart.

"Moon, wake up!" I cry out, collapsing to the ground, my entire being consumed by pain. After all these years, I can still feel the ache in my chest ripping through me.

Nick and Karl run up to me and hold me tight.

He was the moon and I was the sun. Always chasing each other but never destined to become anything else.

—

The end.