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T W E N T Y O N E

edited

Athena is still on her outburst by the time we get home. I get it, mum almost died and she was there when it happened. And getting told by someone you don't know that you have to leave them is a huge smack in the face.

Athena is refusing to talk to anybody, even Cole who had always managed to get her talk. I just watch her watch Netflix on the couch with apple cider in her hand. Athena doesn't drink nor does she ever will - I hope. A person would be blind to see that she's okay and good. She's not.

Me? I still don't know how to react. All this happened to fast that I only feel numb inside. I just curl up in my bedroom and entertain myself by looking at the glow-in-the-dark clouds on my ceiling. Guess that everything has to come crashing down at some point.

Max had gone home to leave me to my own thoughts. He was pretty shaken up too, you can see by the blank look on his usually cheeky, happy face. Mum has always been like a second mother to him, so I understand why he wants to go home and maybe calm himself down. Cole on the other hand, sticks around the house to help me around the house as Athena refuses to do anything.

I guess that now I know that life is not as perfect as I imagined it to be, though I knew it wasn't perfect from the start. At one point though, I did think that everything was something very close to the word. Very very close to being perfect. But just like a roller coaster, just as things are looking up and happy, it all comes crashing down. Sometimes faster than expected.

With my lights turned off, my door locked and curtains pulled shut, I bury myself under my duvets and blankets and doonas on my bed then curl up in a ball. I feel safe. Staying in that position, I unlock my phone.

The only light source in my room this time is my phone and it is blinding. Blinking my eyes is the only way to relieve the sudden soreness at the back of my eyeballs and I lower the brightness while doing it. My social media notifications appear first on my screen first but I choose to ignore first.

Opening my messages, I find the most messages are from an unknown number on the top of all the other texts that had come in.  I don't open it, I just look, somehow finding the style of writing - style of talking - familiar. Squinting on it, I find words that only my dad would usually say. Then it hit me.

I quickly press the home button, not wanting to see that anymore. I feel sick and disgusted and so I let Instagram fill the screen of my phone, my inbox completely gone for a little while. I let out a shaky exhale and I scan the first picture on my feed.

I wrap my blankets tighter, feeling the cold air through them and look up to the stories. Oh shit, the boys' live stream.

Everything that has happened today has got my mind off it and I forgot completely. I kind of promised him, and thankfully, it was still going on. Pressing on the profile, I watch as Marcus' face appear and like always, it is zooming in on his nose.

'Marcus, give the phone to Martinus,' I type and grin slightly when I press send. I watch as comments burst after that, and I laugh when their fans start backing me up.

"No," Marcus laughs, "why would I want to give him the phone? Do you want to see him shower?"

I grimace. 'No!'

"That's what I thought," Marcus grins.

'Whose phone are you using?' I type, ignoring all the possibly screaming fangirls behind their phones.

"Mine."

'Alright then' I type and press send. I type in some more, 'tell Martinus to pick his phone up when I ring.'