Never Meant (Kellic) // boyxboy

18: Let's Just Pretend

There's an impossible lightness to my body as it rocks back and forth with the gentle breeze. I feel as though I'm watching myself from afar again, and likewise, all's that left of my physical self is an empty shell.

Nothing feels real, like I'm in a videogame and anything that happens to my character has no real world repercussions, no pain attached, and there's no sentimentality. It feels like if I slipped off this ledge right now, I'd just float. Maybe I'd even hit the ground, but wouldn't feel a thing. And the level would reset. And I'd wake up, back in my warm bed this morning, when I still felt like I had a fighting chance at life. And I'd get to do this whole day over again. Maybe I could make different choices, get a new outcome, stop any of this from ever happening. 

My theory is consolidated by the faint music playing in the background. Who would have thought my videogame theme would be Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls?

It's not until I feel the buzzing in my back pocket that I realize the music is actually my ringtone. 

I allow it to ring out, having no intention of speaking to anyone right now. There's only one person it could be anyway.

I get another buzz after the fact. I take out my phone and sigh down at Vic's message.

hey bby, where are you?

I have half a mind to let my phone slip from my fingertips and watch it plummet to the cement. I have half a mind to follow it.

But the lunch bell rang ten minutes ago and a text from Vic indicates that he's already worried. He's bound to come looking for me sooner or later, and this would probably be the first place he'd check.

I can't handle him asking questions. I just can't. Because, what if I tell him the truth? What if he asks and I just give in? I always give in to him. I trust him too much. More than I should trust anybody.

I can picture the look on his face. The pity masking the disgust. He'd never look at me the same way ever again.

I slip the back off my phone, taking the blade in one hand and the photo reel in the other. I flip the razor between my fingertips as I look down at the first photo of Vic and I, the one where he's looking at me, pure joy and affection in his eyes. I can't lose that.

I put my possessions back in their hiding spot and replace the cover on my phone.

I take a deep breath and one last look at the inviting pavement before I slip off the edge—back onto the safety of the roof.

I head back downstairs and set off toward the cafeteria, stopping at the bathroom on the way.

I stand in front of the basin, staring at the person in the mirror. I know it's me. It just doesn't feel like it right now. I splash my face with water, to ease my tear-swollen cheeks and then try to make my damp and disheveled hair look somewhat normal.

But I still look like a mess and there's only so much I can do.

I decide to lean into the disconnect I have with my body and the numbness begging to consume me. It's the only way I'm going to be able to leave this bathroom without breaking down again.

I take another deep breath before my legs take me out of the there and down to the cafeteria.

I see him immediately, like my survival instincts are honed to him. He's sitting across the room, his eyes locked on mine, like he was watching the door, waiting for me to enter, as if he were a predator waiting for prey.

There's a voice in the back of my head screaming to just run away, to go home and never look back. But I ignore all warning signs. Old habits die hard, I guess.