[3] how did we end up here ;; nh

58 » Closure's Madness

!! TW !!
!! blood, violence !!
read at your own risk

***

To be fair, I regret for a moment having felt sorry, thinking that throwing her in jail would crush whatever dream she clings to. But that vanishes the moment I see whatever the fuck is happening in my living room.

What the fuck is this?

There I have to say it again.

This is not going in the way I have planned, shit.

Anne stands by the cabinet, her eyes wild, alive with fire. Every muscle in her face twitches, her breathing ragged, chest rising too fast. Then — crash. A frame hits the floor, shattering into hundreds of glittering shards. She grabs another. Throws it. The sound of splintering glass ricochets through the living room.

She's throwing every photo that has Avril in it.

This woman is crazy.

I stand there like an idiot, mouth open, clutching a stupid glass of watermelon juice Zayn was proud of.

"WHY HER?! WHY DO I HAVE TO SEE HER?!" she screams with a raw, howling sound. The moment she sees my fiancée's face in the frames, she loses it and slams another picture down.

Don't blame me, I'm obnoxiously obsessed with my fiancée. I put her Vogue poster on my bedroom wall.

There is no time to fret about the wreck she's making of my house, I know the fact that I have to do something. Think fast. Before that, I fumble my phone out of my pocket. I know Zayn and Harry must be doing something, perhaps they call the cops. Perhaps they are about to be going out of their rooms to help me. But I can't let it happen. No matter what, I have to force Anne to admit she hired the paparazzi in Dublin, to prove to Avril that she's been misunderstood. And if they're here, it's gonna be hard for Anne to admit.

COOL MISSION GROUP (3)

Me: don't come out guys

Me: i'll handle this

My phone vibrates again almost immediately.

Zayn: that's insane i almost jumped the moment i heard her screaming

Me: just stick with the plan until she says it herself about that dublin thing

Harry: ok buy some more time, zayn pls call the 911 in a bit

Harry: this situation is... insane. she's going mad

Zayn: u sure? i was abt to call the popo

Me: 100% ! i'll tell ya if i need help

Harry: just scream if u need help... like "ouchhh" then we will come downstairs

Zayn: too girlie innit

Zayn: just say FUCK it sounds more like a gentleman from action movies 🤪

Harry: ok just scream "FUCK" then x

Harry: ok?

Me: ok the moment i say FUCK pls come downstairs

I let them coordinate the next steps.

Standing at the far end of the living room where it meets the dining area, Anne doesn't seem to notice me; she's rambling, sobbing wildly, sometimes sitting amid the shards of glass and tearing up Avril's pictures or our pictures together. Then she gets up, hands nicked by glass, and reaches for the frames that still show my fiancée's face. I wince; she's bleeding pretty badly, but she seems not to feel it.