In Your Dreams

34 || Emmett Larkin

Great! Amazing! What the fucking wonderful experience!

I thrash around my bed and pull an extra pillow just in front of my face as I bury and deprive myself of oxygen for a solid second while I scream my lungs out. The frustration I'm feeling right now was the first time for a long, long—fucking long time.

After a few seconds—right before I feel myself passing out from the suffocation I've caused to myself—I let out a loud groan. So loud that I felt a hard cough pushing itself out from my lungs. Or maybe that's because I've lost a lot of oxygen, either way my whole body reverberated as the loud groan came out of me. Thank God for thick walls, my neighbors wouldn't like heading a grown man struggling with his all of his internal conflicts.

Well, to be precise, it's just one conflict since it's only caused by one single person. Who goes by the name, Phoebe Summers. I've been gaslighting myself that I don't know her, that I've never knows she existed, that she's nothing to me. But nope, my brain wants to keep reminding me about her. Mainly through harmless little mirages I kept getting while I sleep.

I went home to take a peaceful nap. Frankly, I receive the opposite. One second that girl's face flashed in my dreams, I immediately punch myself to wake myself up and try again. I've been constantly napping and waking up, hoping the dreams will finally stop, and I'll have some peace of mind. But of course, the universe hates me for some reason and kept flashing me Phoebe's beautiful and delicate face.

Wait a fucking minute… Did I just think of her having a beautiful and delicate face?

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I immediately grab the pillow I've used to nearly suffocate myself to death and scream against it one more time. After another second, I feel my entire body losing every ounce of energy I have left for the day. It's impressive since it's only—I reach over for my phone to check the time—early dusk, and I'm already felt drained.

“This is all Phoebe's fault,” I mutter under my breath as I stare directly at the ceiling above me. Part of me wishes that the aforementioned ceiling would just collapse and crush me in the process, just to have a peaceful sleep without having dreams of Phoebe Summers. Maybe, just maybe, that's the only way to avoid such punishment. “Oh yeah, it's also Alecks' fault,” I add, realizing that he's the sole reason why Phoebe is even in the band with me. If he hasn't suggested to add a female vocalist into the band, all of these would have been avoided.

My growing emotions towards Phoebe would have been avoided.

I release a heavy sigh and reach for my phone just to keep my mind off from that cheesy statement I've just thought of. The only emotions that's growing inside of me is frustration, not that mushy thing that's called love. That emotion has let me down once, it can let me down again if I gave it a chance. And I'm not chancing it, ever again.

“Never again,” I murmur before finally open my phone to check for any messages I had missed when I was struggling to sleep peacefully.

As I was scrolling, I've noticed that Alecks had finally sent me a message after I've asked Phoebe to do.

Alecks: What's up?

That was all he had sent me. It's like he'd completely forgotten his crime he'd committed against me. With a frustrated eye roll, I typed my reply, despite struggling to type a coherent sentence while lying down on the bed. After a few more tries to see if I can type while lying down on my back, I've finally lifted myself up and scoot my back against the bed frame behind me. I even prop a pillow down just below my nape to feel more comfortable.

Me: You got a lot of explaining to do. Better start explaining, or I'll hunt you down and make sure to shut your fucking mouth for the entire semester.