Heartbreaker [h.s.]

Chapter Eighteen (part 2)

She didn't show up.

I looked out at the sea of people, scanning the entire room for her face and it was nowhere to be seen. Not up in the balcony. Not off to the side of the stage. Not near the bar. Nowhere. I should've known—everything with her is always a broken promise.

My energy the entire show earlier was abysmal. I know the crowd could feel it, but I couldn't stop the hate and hurt that burned inside of me like a forest fire. I couldn't wait to get the fuck off that stage and out of the spotlight—everyone could tell something was wrong. It was palpable in the air, but no one dared to say a word to me for fear of me absolutely blowing up at them. A wise choice by those bastards.

Not even Charlie tried to say anything. I think she learned her lesson to not pry into my life earlier.

I know bottling up my feelings and not allowing anyone into the torment that is my mind is bad for me. I also know that self medicating with a bottle of Jack Daniels to drown out the way I felt when I looked around and she wasn't there isn't good either. I'm like a ticking time bomb. I don't need someone to tell me I have issues that have stemmed from my mums drug addiction, her being in and out of my life, and the fact that my father also abandoned us. The only stability I ever felt was with my grandparents—they're the only reason I'm not completely a goner.

I could've drowned my sorrows at the bar with the boys after, but I wanted to be alone. They didn't beg me at all, they took my no and moved on. I've no idea if Charlie decided to join them or not. I booked it off the bus and to my room before I could even hear them ask her.

Sitting alone in my dimly lit hotel room was a perfect representation of my current mood. Pieces of tonight replay behind my eyes like a bad movie as I take another swig of golden brown liquid. Every face in the crowd that wasn't my mum felt like a dull knife through the chest. I mean knew she wouldn't be there, I'm not stupid. But that faint glimmer of hope simmered beneath the surface at all times and her showing up unannounced fed that hope. I tried to fight it, but that little boy inside me clawed his way to the surface, exposed and waiting for mum to actually follow through on a promise.

I knew better, and now I'm paying the price.

Everytime she resurfaces, it's just a reminder that Rebecca never cared for anyone but herself and every fucking time it made my chest ache. I'll always feel like part of me will never be whole because of her. Like every chunk missing will stay exposed, gaping. She takes what she thinks is owed to her because I'm half of her, leaving me with void after empty void to reel in alone. The only person who can get me down like this is her.

So now, I'm holed up in my hotel room. Bottle attached to my hand, my mind is going more fuzzy and numb with each swig. Thank fucking god. One more minute with the barrage of thoughts and images would've driven me to insanity. Now that the drink is flowing through my system, I feel some relief. The only thing that would make this better would be a body to warm the other side of my bed.