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This one is a bit longer than usual, and definitely NSFF. Enjoyyyy :^)

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/ and I try to refrain / but you're stuck in my brain / and all I do is cry and complain / because second's not the same /

Is There Somewhere --- Halsey

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"...and dammit Helbig, I've always had this feeling about you, this knowledge that the two of us have some sort of connection. And at this point I can't really change that idea; I'm so in love with you I don't know what to do anymore."

--

I couldn't move. I couldn't breath. I couldn't think.

So I did the next logical thing: I sank backwards into the couch.

"But, listen." She put her hands up, as if to brace me for what she was about to say. "I'm really into Ingrid too. I really, really, really, really like her. Maybe even love her. And I want to see where that goes. It's not exactly fair to her to break it off just because you finally got your head out of your ass," she finished angrily. She forced a laugh and rubbed her eyes. "Sorry. I'm a little stressed. I just mean, I've loved you for a long time, Grace. I still do. But I've kind of accepted that for nothing, and now I'm involved in something new."

I nodded, a grin barely visible. "Understandable."

But I still couldn't think. I sat, frozen, feeling as if I were a robot. Nothing made sense anymore.

She still loved me. But she didn't want to be with me.

Even though I felt the same way.

Mamrie looked as if she was about to throw up, or pass out, or both, and that summed up how I felt pretty well. She sighed and closed her eyes. "Hannah, it's late. Maybe we should get you back home?"

"Yeah," she said, looking down. "Yeah, probably."

"Okay, you just sit tight." Mamrie stood up and reached for my hand. "C'mon, Gracie, let's get you to bed."

I followed her out of the room without another word. She pulled off my sweatshirt and sweatpants and tugged a tank top over my sports bra. I layed down on top of the mattress.

Mamrie sighed. "Grace, get in bed."

I didn't respond.

She pulled the blankets down from underneath me, then pulled them up to my chin. "Y'know, sometimes I really worry about you two. It can't be healthy, the way you go on." She shook her head. "Not healthy for you or for me. Goodnight, Helbig."

No reply.

She left the room, and soon after I heard voices in the living room. They escalated in volume quickly, both girls probably assuming I was asleep.

"Hannah, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Mamrie hissed.

"I don't know. But I can't just leave Ingrid! You get that, right?"

"I'm not sure I do."

Silence.

"You've been waiting for her for years, Han, and you just brush her off when you get the chance to make her yours?"

Another pause.

I had to strain to hear Hannah's next words. "I'm scared."

"Han-"

"I'm fucking terrified that things wouldn't work out, that she wouldn't actually like me, that she realizes she needs, no, deserves someone millions of times better than me. She's perfect, Mamrie. Literally every thing that makes Grace herself is something I would never change. But I'm scared to try because even though every fiber, every inch of my soul knows we're meant to be, my whole brain knows that it will never work out."

By now her voice is more than the whisper it started at; much louder, in fact. I can hear the tears running down her face in the way she speaks.

"Shh," Mamrie murmurs. "We'll talk more tomorrow, yeah? For now let's just get you home." And with that, they're gone.

--

I'm not really sure if I ever fell asleep that night, or the next, or any of the nights that next week. It was torture, trying to actually do something with my life now that I knew how Hannah felt. I didn't remember much from that night after Mamrie put me to bed, but I knew I had heard them talking. And that it was something important. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember what was said. What it was, only they knew now.

I still put up videos on the regular days, although what they were about, I couldn't tell you. The FriDiary was incredibly mundane. I did my best to hide my tiredness and disinterest in the vlog - I was already stressing, I didn't need anyone else to stress either, especially not our fanbase.

Chester called a few times. I let the machine play the message as he left it. He wanted to know why I had almost literally dropped off the face of the earth. I didn't have the heart, or the energy to tell him it was because I happened to be in love with the wrong best friend. After the first missed call, he seemed worried. Second, desperate. Third, tired. Fourth, resigned.

The fifth message, he officially broke off our relationship.

It had been a week since my falling-out with Hannah (what other word was there for it?), and I was in the same tank top as that night. It hadn't been washed, but I didn't care. Nothing made me care; that is, until he called.

"Grace, I just ..." Long pause. "I don't get it. I'm angry, Gracie. I think I deserve an explanation. You cut off all contact. I don't get it, Grace. Did I do something wrong? Did I cross a line? Because normally you're the first person to call me out on these things, and .. this time you didn't. I miss you. Please call me back. I miss you."

It was his shortest message, but it left the largest impact. He was giving up, just like I had.

Hannah called twice. I didn't answer those, either. She knew - and knows - me well enough to know when I needed space, and I guess she assumed this was one of those times.

Mamrie didn't bother calling. She showed up at random, with no pattern or warning to her visits, probably just to make sure I wasn't hiding anything huge. Deep down, I knew I should be grateful, but in a twisted way I resented her for being so caring. How could she just drop everything and check up on me, someone who was such a huge fuckup they couldn't even answer the door? It was lucky she had a spare key, or her kind efforts would have gone to waste.

I could see the toll I was putting on her, though, the way her face seemed tighter and the bags under her eyes darker. She wore less makeup than usual. Her outfits when going out seemed less, well, Mamrie than usual.

That's probably what snapped me out of it.

Here I was, upset about requited love that I couldn't have, dragging her into this mess and stressing her out. It wasn't fair to me, let alone her, that I was responsible for how she acted and carried herself. I had to change my state of mind, and fast. If not for my sake, for hers.

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