𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞; oscar piastri ✔

ALTERNATE ENDING

So this part is basically like a novella, I've never written such a long chapter, but I felt bad and I wanted to tie up some loose ends - so be grateful!

Sorry that it's taken over a week to come out. I needed time to grieve this book (and do coursework).

Honestly out of words for this story. I've been rereading it in my spare time and my god, I didn't realise how far Taz had come. This is the ending he - and you - deserve.

I'm hoping to write an epilogue for the original story line some time in the future, but I'm unsure when that will be as of yet. Pretty busy schedule for the next few weeks (and months) so we'll see. Maybe I'll finally write the epilogue for About You, too.

Nevertheless, grab something to eat and drink, and enjoy my loves <3 Read the last chapter again for parallels (at your own risk)

Word count; 7,600

Tomás

Just like how I'll never be able to say goodbye to Oscar.

Even in this pit of emptiness, of absolute darkness and despair, that's what hurt the most. Not enough words could explain it, explain the memories that flooded my mind. Even if they could, I wouldn't want to. Not even you deserve that.

I could almost hear him. Calling my name, screaming at me to wake up. I tried to follow it but I couldn't move.

No.

Not like this.

I'm not giving up this time.

His pleads became louder. Once again, I tried to swim towards it, to climb out of canyon of memories. I knew I'd no longer have them when I reached what I was looking for, but I didn't care. What good was the past when I had a future? A future with Oscar?

I can't do this without you, I heard him say.

You won't have to, I told myself, digging my fingernails into my conscience, tearing apart the fabric of my mind. Anything to see him, to hold his hand again.

Come on, Taz.

Don't give up.

This isn't it.

Wake up.

Pará la mano.

My body was weak, that much I knew. I didn't know what had happened to it, just that it was slipping down a slope of no return, and waking up would be combatting that pain all over again.

But I didn't care.

I wanted Oscar.

Wake up.

Wake up.

Wake up.

"Please." Oscar said - a prayer.

Oscar?

I glanced around the room, though even my eyelids hated the movement, too used to being clamped shut. God, everything was so bright. Too bright.

Where am I?

Each inhale was washed away by the scent of pure, metalic oxygen. A consequence of a mask, I recognised, a ventilator. I craved the feeling of a cigarette between my lips. That was real, I thought.

Then it hit me.

That was real. All of this was.

I was awake.