[OliverSykes] The Only Way I'll Really Smile

Three.

I don’t want to be here. Actually, that’s an understatement. I would rather be sticking needles in my eyes, have someone eating away the flesh on my arm, and have snakes strangling me. That sounds so much nicer know; hmm, maybe I’ll make that an assignment for my classes, write an essay about what you would rather be doing instead of seeing the one person you don’t want to see, but then again, maybe not because I’ll probably lose my job if they write inappropriate things. That wouldn’t be good. I like my job. I'm good at it.

He’s clearly good at his job, considering they’re famous enough to be touring in the States, which I think is what he’s always wanted to do. But, once I got to the States, it was like anything and everything in the States was poison and if there was any sort of contact with it, something would go terribly wrong. Douchebag could have sent me an email back or even a letter, with one sentence, I would have loved that, I would have been okay with that, but I kept writing and I kept trying and he did nothing in return. What a fucking asshole that I didn’t want to see because I knew that if I did all the old feelings would rush back and I want to hate him.

When I was younger, I would get angry at him, for whatever it was, stealing my dolls and not giving them back, telling me that I'm too short to go on his swing set, and when I was older telling me that my boobs were too small. But, I was never angry for long, because he would just wrap his arms around me and whisper in my ear how sorry he is and how he doesn’t want me to be mad at him because I mean too much to him. Every time my body would be a traitor and shiver at the feel of his breath on my neck and he would know that he was forgiven, because that’s how it always went.

At one point, I actually thought that I would never be mad at him, because we were going to be best friends forever, but that thought died quickly as soon as I moved, and I don’t really know why he just gave up. But, at this point, I really don’t want to know. I don’t want to know what he thinks I did wrong. I don’t want to hear his stupid, lame excuse. I don’t want to forgive him.

Someone stumbles into me, causing me to lose my balance for a moment, but not long enough for me to topple over. Groaning, I run a hand through my hair, prepared to bitch out whoever it is who was dumb enough to get this drunk this early, considering the opening band hasn’t even gotten on stage yet. I mean, seriously, I'm a nice person, I really am, but I just don’t tolerate stupid things like this because when people are stupid they, just, they should be treated like they're stupid. I have no tolerance for people who get drunk at six o’clock at night; actually, it’s barely night.

“So-sorry, love.” That accent, I know that accent, I loved that accent, and now I hate that accent. When we were younger, I mean, he would smoke pot occasionally, who wouldn’t, there was nothing else to do in the stupid Steel City, but I didn’t remember him ever getting shitfaced. “My bad,” his voice is smooth but his breath is stiff with alcohol and I hate it, but not as much as I hate him.

Who the fuck am I kidding?

I can’t hate the douche.

Biting down on my lower lip, trying to stop the flow of curse words that want to flow from my mouth, I try to stay calm. I can feel my heart beating in my throat, and I feel hot, like I want to vomit, but he would never call me love, and he saw my face, we looked right at each other, made eye contact, and he doesn’t remember me. I mean, he’s pretty far gone already, so he could possibly remember me when he’s sober, but it doesn’t seem like he’s sober very often.

“Reed, let’s go find Austin.” Bailey appears next to me, her eyes shifting from me to Oli and back to me over and over again, before Oli finally gets the picture that he isn't wanted and saunters, well, more like stumbles, off to wherever he feels like going. “I didn’t think he would even be around people. Austin said for the two weeks they’ve been on tour, Oli has kept to himself and to his band. They party a lot, Reed. I just, I talked to Austin once we got here, when you went out for a drink with Tino. Oliver isn't the same kid you used to know.”

No shit, Sherlock. See, this is my problem. I'm a nice person. I really am. All my students love me. I'm a great person. But this, dealing with Oli again, it’s turning me into this monster that I don’t want to be. I went out to a bar and got a beer. If I'm going to drink, it’s going to be a someone’s house and I need to be surrounded by people that I know. All of this, I just don’t know how to handle any of this anymore.

He literally looked me straight in the eyes and had no recollection of who I am.

I guess I didn’t expect anything other than that, and I think that’s what is making me so frustrated with myself, because I knew he forgot about me a long time ago, but there will always be a part of me that hopes we can at least go back to being friends. With him in my life, everything seemed better.

But now, I just, he’s so far gone, that it probably wouldn’t even work, I can’t be friends with someone who is so self-destructive, especially when I knew him before all of this.