Ghosts Between Us (ManxMan)

Chapter 11: The Spiral (Part 1)

"Ahhh-ouch"

Keaton woke up with a pounding headache. The familiar bitterness of too much wine lingered on his tongue, and his body felt heavy as he slowly sat up in bed. His phone lay face down on the pillow beside him, a reminder of the message he had sent to Cole the night before.

He sighed, running a hand over his face, the weight of the unanswered question hanging over him. Did Cole respond? The thought gnawed at him, but he didn't want to check. Not yet. Instead, he sat in silence, listening to the faint sounds of the house—a house that suddenly felt far too quiet.

A soft knock on the door broke the silence. Keaton's mother, Nikita, peeked in, her dark curly hair framing her tired but concerned face.

"Morning, Key," she said softly. "You alright?"

Keaton forced a smile, nodding. "Yeah, just tired."

Her eyes lingered on him for a moment, scanning his face as if searching for something. He could feel her worry radiating through the small crack in the door. "You sure?" she asked, her voice laced with that maternal tone that always seemed to cut through his defenses.

"Yeah, Ma," Keaton replied, trying to sound more convincing. "Just didn't sleep well."

Nikita hesitated, her gaze softening. "Well, lucky for you, you don't have to go to work today, huh? You can rest. You should take advantage of it."

Keaton felt his jaw clench involuntarily. The comment hit him the wrong way, even though he knew she didn't mean anything by it. Rest. It wasn't like he was just lounging around, carefree. His mind was a storm, but she wouldn't understand that. Not fully.

Yeah, lucky me, he thought bitterly. He bit back the sharp words on his tongue, knowing snapping would only make things worse. He let out a quiet sigh instead.

"Thanks," Keaton muttered, turning away from the door as she gently closed it behind her. He knew she could tell something was off—she always did.

Sighing, Keaton grabbed his phone. The screen lit up with notifications. His heart raced as he swiped to unlock it, his thumb lingering over the app. Cole.

What if it's nothing? Keaton's stomach tightened as he hovered over the notification. What if he explains everything? What if he doesn't?

He exhaled, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung to him like a bad dream. He wasn't ready to face Cole's response—not yet. Maybe later.

Instead, he flipped to a different message.

Wilfred's...

The warmth from the night before flickered back momentarily as Keaton reread his uncle's message. Wilfred had always known when to reach out, and something about his return always made Keaton feel safe. But this time, there was a shadow lingering behind the thought of Uncle Will coming back. A vague discomfort. What was that about?

He tossed the phone onto the bed, trying to shake the growing sense of unease. Pushing himself up, Keaton stumbled toward the bathroom, his body feeling heavy with the weight of the previous night's emotions and the remnants of alcohol.

The bathroom mirror reflected a version of him that felt unfamiliar. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair a mess, and his skin looked pale beneath the dim light. He stared at his reflection for a long moment, feeling as though he didn't recognize himself. What happened to me?

As the water ran into the sink, Keaton splashed his face, trying to clear the fog that had settled in his mind. He knew he was starting to slip again. It was the same feeling he'd had after his last breakup—the numbness, the avoidance, the drinking to push away the pain. His parents had seen it back then, and they were seeing it again now.