𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐬 || Jameson Hawthorne

emily, i'm sorry

*This song is soooo lizzie and emily coded so I added it to the playlist!! boygenius <3*
—
༄ 5 Years ago—

The first time it happened, I didn't tell anyone. Everyone had heart burn, I was no different. Emily had a rare condition— that couldn't be me.

I was alone in my room when it happened. My chest was contracting and for a split second, I thought I would die. The second time, I was at Hawthorne House.

I had been playing scrabble with Xander when a sharp pain slashed through my chest, cutting at my insides. I had held my hand to my chest in agony, and the only thing I remembered hearing were screams.

I would go in and out of a sleep state for hours, hearing the occasional voices around me. They were mere echoes.

"Somethings wrong with her heart," one voice said.

"No, not Lizzie." another said.

"Is it the same as Emily's?"

"This has to be genetic or something."

"Maybe something is just wrong with her."

When Emily had heart scares, everybody cared. Lottie and Andrew would cry and pray for her to get better, our parents would come to visit just for her, and everyone gave Emily gifts and treated her even better than they normally did for a couple of days.

And when it happened to me, it was a burden. A liability. I was.

I knew Emily had it worse, and because of that, I never mentioned it. The one time I did, Emily cried and said I was trying to take the spotlight away from her. So I never mentioned it again.

"Kid? You okay?" Nash's voice rang through my ears, and the real world came crashing down around me all at once. Being in my head hurt so much, but I couldn't control it. My brain just took me back to places I couldn't control.

"Yeah," I said, catching my breath. "Um.. just— I don't know."

Nash leaned in closer to me and winced. "Jeez, you might have a broken nose." He sat down next to me on the floor. "Wanna tell me what happened?"

"Jameson," I blurted out.

Nash shook his head. "Makes sense." He shifted to face me. "What was it about this time?"

Nash knew me. That was one of the things I always loved about him. He wasn't my sibling by blood, but by choice? I would choose Nash Hawthorne every. single. day. No question.

"What do you think?" I threw my hand up in frustration. "The past. Emily. Me not being there for him and never coming to Hawthorne House. All that stupid shit." I slapped my hands on the ground.

"Kid.." Nash said, his thick accent more present than ever, "I know Emily was— is your sister, but the influence she still has on people? Half this house? It's not normal." Nash paused, as if to contemplate saying anything else. "The way she treated you? That wasn't normal either."

I shook my head. "No—"

"Yes," Nash interrupted. "And i'm telling you this because I care about you. You could be great Liz— you are great— but don't stand in the shadow of Emily."

Nash stood up, and I felt the absence of his presence next to me. He looked down at me, like looking at a lost child. "My advice? Get clarity Liz. Go visit Emily. Because you, Jamie, and Gray are worth more than this. I know it."

And I was left alone in the corridor, only my thoughts and Tobias Hawthorne to comfort me.
—
༄

Emily's grave was only a fifteen minute walk from Hawthorne House. I hadn't been here since the day of her funeral.

That day, the cries and screams—the blame— it was too much to think about. Everyone loved Emily, but nobody mourned Emily. She was ingrained in everyone's minds, for better or for worse.

Lottie had picked out the best stone, high and shiny for everyone to see. Emily's name was engraved in thick, bold letters and a rose right next to it.

Emily was a rose. Lottie had said. A beautiful, blooming rose.

But she had thorns. I thought to myself.

I sat down a few feet from the grave, anxiously picking at the grass in front of me. Pulling clumps of weed and small flowers out of the ground until my hands were covered in dirt.

"Hi," I said.

No response. Obviously. But maybe she was watching? If anything, she was laughing.

"I hate this." My eyes dropped down to the ground. Facing Emily meant thinking about all the mistakes I had made leading up to her death. "I hate that i'm here. I shouldn't be, you know? I should be living my life. I'm not. I'm stuck on you."

Nothing.

"Oh, yeah, i'm talking to a freaking ghost." I tugged on my hair in frustration, pulling at the loose ends. "I wish you would get out of my head. I deserve to be happy."

I knew that in my bones. And did Emily really want me to be happy? When it came down to it— Emily always said my happiness hindered everyone else's.

"I wanted to be you," I breathed out. The words were spilling from my mouth, and nobody was here to stop me. "Your hair. Your eyes. All of it. Because everyone loved you. And I thought— I knew— that if maybe if i'd done a little more to be like you, then I would've been loved too."

I placed the daisy I had picked out right next to her birth date on the grave. She was only seventeen.

"I'm sorry, Em." I was. "It's my fault, because I should have never let you try to make me you." If that even made sense.

You're talking to nobody. "Right," I said, standing up from the ground. I wiped off the grass from my legs before looking at Emily's grave one last time. "I'm probably gonna leave here and do the exact opposite of what I told myself I would do."

Not avoid Jameson, talk to Grayson. Be happy.

Even after I had left the graveyard, I still could hear Emily's voice in my head. The only way to be loved is to be someone you aren't.

And I could make a million promises, tell myself over and over that i'm better, but i'm not.

I wrapped my arms around my wrists, feeling the indents of the mess i'd made. The tears came spilling, racing their way down my cheek to see which would win.

My tears and Emily's voice accompanied me the rest of the way home.
—
༄

a/n:

listening to 'I found' by Amber Run while writing this is rlly putting me in my feels. I actually want to cry for Lizzie okay bye guys😁🙏🏻

also imagining louis partridge as jameson makes this story 100000x better i highly recommend. in the next act i'm putting his gif as the jameson hawthorne mood board iykyk