Pisanthraphobia (H2OVanoss and Others)

Chapter 1

He was relapsing again. Tyler groaned mentally and tightened his arms around the warm body next to him. Craig shifted, snuggling closer, and he pulled the blankets closer around them.

His phone lit up once again from the nightstand where it had woken him previously. It was around seven in the morning, early enough to make Tyler want to ignore everything and go back to bed.

If only.

He sighed and slowly slipped out of the bed, using a pillow to avoid waking Craig. He watched fondly as he snuggled into it, and picked up his phone. As he left the house, navigating in the dim morning light, he wondered why this felt so normal to him.

It didn't happen every day, but at least thrice a week he would commute to his car, despite it being deep into the night or early in the morning, and make his way to the apartment on Oakfield Lane.

Getting in his car, he thought about the weird timing of the relapses. Obviously, it must have something to do with sleep schedules, but it could be that it was all accidental.

Sometimes, he missed the old days, when he could be a friend but still have time to be himself. Now, Craig was his only escape from the broken shell that beckoned him. And then there was the guilt.

Ever since that day, almost a whole year ago, he had felt it. If he hadn't insisted on waiting, if he hadn't been sleeping so carelessly...he shook his head. He bottled up his feelings, driving on the empty roads, loosening his hands on the wheel.

He turned the radio on, finding a station playing Save You by Simple Plan. Instead of making him more depressed, the lyrics seemed to calm his mind, and he relaxed in the seat.

Eventually, a faint sign saying A Vision For You appeared in the distance, and he knew he was close to the apartment complex. When he got there, he pulled in to the 'assistive parking' area, which was right by the doors.

He hadn't texted so he knew he was coming; he knew from experience that that would only make it worse. He chose to take the stairs, not wanting to bother with the lights of the elevator.

He pushed his glasses up and stood outside the door, typing in the familiar code. As he pushed the door in, he saw a recognizable lump on the couch, shaking so hard the furniture clacked against the wooden flooring.

Locking the door behind him, he made his presence known with a simple grunt.

"Evan."

The shaking stopped, and within an instant Tyler was against the door. He held him, but it wasn't the same as when he held Craig. Evan was no longer a person, and it filled him with regret every time.

The relapses happened often, and through hidden cameras the halfway house staff would notify him. No matter what he was doing or where he was, he would go to him.

Sometimes, he relented it. It was like being enslaved, and he could never have a long period of time to himself. But at other times it was like a way to repent, a reminder that he had to face the consequences for what he had done.

They moved to the couch, and Tyler let Evan cling to him. They never talked, never communicated, and Tyler would avoid eye contact. Every time he saw the eyes, he felt nauseous. They were glassed over like a doll.

It was around one in the afternoon when Tyler eventually left, texting Craig an apology even though he left a note. Mini was always so caring, so understanding, but it was cruel.

Sometimes Tyler would wonder if he had made the right choice, for he could never truly give Craig everything he wanted to. But Craig didn't want the world. He would whisper as they lay together, soothing him just by voice.

They would use their time to forget. Tragedy was ingrained in them, but they used each other to cope. Love was sadistic, and sometimes it was ironic to think about.

If nothing had happened, if Jonathan was still alive and Evan wasn't broken, he probably would've never gotten the courage to go after Craig. He had been crushing on him for years, but he was always too scared, to worried about losing what they already had.

Realizing that life wasn't stable made him want to live more fully. His mind always brought forth the horrible mental image of a three legged relay race; Jonathan and Evan, bloodied and broken, passing the baton to him and Craig. He always tried to forget.

As he pulled into his driveway, he already knew the door was unlocked and cracked open. It was a habit, whenever one of them left they would always leave the door open for the other. It was another false sense of security, and it made going into the house like going into their own private place.

The house was large, made from their combined income from their YouTube accounts. Ever since Evan dropped his channel, their sub count went up by millions. Yet again, it was something they didn't prefer to think about.

When Tyler went in, he heard the banging sounds that accompanied Mini playing Mario Kart in their gaming room. He walked in and signalled for Craig to be quiet, winning the race for him with his pro driving skills.

Even beyond Craig's headphones he could here their friends screaming in outrage as he suddenly "got good". Craig gave him one of those sweet smiles, and they briefly kissed.

Tyler went on with his day, living in a paradox of past horror and contentment. Nothing would ever be the same again, but for now all they could do was be glad that it was over.

Sometimes, it took all of his willpower not to wish for his friends back.