Conspiracy (Sequel to Hypocrisy)

Chapter 2

Alan's POV
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The night air nipped at my cheeks, causing them to turn to a crimson colour. If I had known it would be so cold tonight, I may had stayed a bit longer. But, I was left to walk down the streets with nothing but Austin's old thin jacket and a bag packed with all of my things.

As I looked around, fear settled in. I was 21, no money, no family, and alone. Gripping onto the sleeves of the over worn jacket, I sighed. There was no where to go. Of course, I could go to my moms house, but I wouldn't be accepted for who I am there. What they say is true, people don't change. Chances are if I go back to her, she'll still be the same homophobic asshole she was three years ago. There's no doubt that her judgemental and close-mindedness stuck with her throughout the years. It's almost impossible for people like her to change.

As I racked my brain for more living options, I came to the conclusion that that was it. Not much of a choosing variety considering there was no way in hell I'd live with my mother again. So, that left me alone. I was riddled of all my money because over the years I never really got a job and lived off Justin's earnings. For what it's worth, I'd go back and earn money if I knew I'd be the one to leave Justin.

"Oh god, I hate myself," I muttered to no one. Turning around, I slammed myself against the wall, sliding down it, causing the jacket to rise in the process. We all know how much I hate being alone, yet it's all I seem to know now a days. I'm so alone, always. I'm alone now, and I was alone yesterday. When I was with Justin, I was alone. The company of another human being doesn't make me feel any less lonely, therefore I've been alone for three years. Three fucking years without any source of contentment or happiness. That's just the way things have been and as much as I hate it, I don't have the energy to change it. After all, I'm Alan Ashby; the sad ginger who is too tired to put up with life's shit anymore.

Looking up, my eyes were momentarily blinded by a cars headlight. Assuming it was just another late night driver, I looked back down to my lap, returning to pondering my thoughts. "Get in, Ashby," a man called out. When I looked up, I was met with friendly brown eyes. Phil. Oh god, my night in shining amour.

Walking to the passengers seat, I slid into his car, which was new by the way. "Long time no see, brother," Phil joked as he started driving off. "What has it been? Three years? Four?" Phil asked, directing his attention to the road. He bit his lip a bit when I didn't answer, and I realised it wasn't a rhetorical question. He wanted me to admit how long I was gone, although it was clear he knew the time span himself.

"Around three," I mumbled. Phil's perky self wasn't mixing with my exact mood at the moment and the more his happiness filled the air, the more I wanted to blow my brains out. But, the more he talked the more I realised how much his cheeriness was faked and laced with deeper emotions. This small talk was bound to lead into a heated conversation.

"So tell me, why did you leave?" He asked, a slight hint of resentment showing in his voice. His bitter tone surprised me a bit, but I shouldn't have expected anything different. I left unexpectedly then didn't return for three years. Even here, meeting him was upon an accident. I didn't exactly have plans to see him, and that much was clear.

"Can we talk about this an-" Phil slammed his hand on the dashboard, causing me to jerk a bit. Pulling the car over, he looked me in the eyes. It was obvious he was angry by the way he was biting his lip, pondering what to say next. I was scared, nothenless. Scared of what kind of bashing was about to occur or how I would feel after his rant.

"No! Were talking about it now," Phil yelled, throwing his hands up to express what he was saying. That was an old habit of his; talking with his hands. "What did you think was going to happen when we reunited?! Hugs and 'oh how I missed you's'! Because you thought wrong. My best fucking friend left without telling me why. Of course, at first I blamed myself. But then I realised you were as much as a coward as you were in high school," Phil ranted. Looking into his eyes, I searched for some sort of regret for the last sentence, but found none because it seemed as if that's what he meant, and over the three years I've been gone, he's confirmed it with his own thoughts.

"What do you want me to say!? That I'm sorry? We both know I'm not a good liar!" I snapped, a bit surprised at myself that I fought back. Phil looked at me in disbelief. Almost like I was a different person. Truth be told, I feel like a different person. Of course, it's one I don't want to be and not one Phil wants me to be. We could tell that much by the death glares he was giving me. If it wasn't for the console between us, I'm pretty sure he would have jumped over to strangle me by now.

"I don't know what happened while you left, but it's changed you. For the worst, that is. I can tell by the way you are now faking confidence. The Alan I knew in high school would have never said those thing to me for the fear of being disowned or pushed away." He was right, I would have never dreamed of saying those things in high school. Normally, me having confidence is something Phil would congratulate, but me using faked confidence against him like I've been doing, is something Phil doesn't want from me, and I don't want from myself. But, how can I stop what I've already mastered? Old habits die hard, right?

"Why did you pick me up then? So you could fucking chew my head off and criticise how I live my life? Last time I checked, I was under my control. Not yours," I retorted, breaking eye contact with Phil so I didn't have to see the look he was going to give me for my reply. Phil's eye daggers where something you never wanted to come in contact with, yet over the years I've seen quite a bit. It was obvious he was casting them my way because at this point, all I was doing was proving him right by fighting back, but it seems as if arguing has become a huge part of my life now, so I may as well be good at it.

"I picked you up because no matter how much of a dick you have become, you're a dick that I still care about. While you were gone, there wasn't a day that I didn't think about you or your god damned well being. I missed you, that's for sure. I'm just trying to make sure I was somewhere in your mind when you left," Phil admitted. Of course I thought of him, but he wasn't my first thought. But, we were both aware of that. Obviously, Austin was my first thought.

"Tell me Alan, did you feel one shred of guilt when you left?" Phil's voice lowered into a spine chilling tone, making it to where you felt like you had to tell the truth. That's one thing about Phil, he can be so damn intimidating that he could get almost anything out if you, and this was something he was aware of. Something he took pride in.

"Do you want the truth?" I asked. Phil nodded, shutting his mouth and preparing himself to cling onto my words. "I didn't. I, myself am one selfish mother fucker. But, we all know that right?" Phil rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but I held up my finger, for I wasn't done. "What I wanted was clear, and that was to leave. The guilt of letting Austin get that sick was consuming me. I felt as if everyone knew I failed, once again. I wasn't willing to stay in that god forsaken town and let the guilt consume me. I've already said this, I'm selfish. We as humans all are, but I have a bit more of it. I knew so from the first suicide attempt. But, it only shows at certain times. That just happened to be one of those times. And so far, I haven't felt one shred of guilt for leaving. It's what I wanted," I confessed.

"The world doesn't revolve around you, Ashby," Phil growled. "No one gave a fuck about it you could help Austin or not. That's not what they were concerned about, for fucks sake. What people were worried about was Austin's health. Not once did someone thing 'oh, that little ginger shit fucked up'. No, they were to busy being concerned about Austin's well being to give a fuck about your actions. You selfish prick." He was right, but I would never admit it. Those thoughts didn't cross my mind when I left. Even when they did, I didn't regret leaving. What I told Phil was true, wether I eventually got my thoughts straight or not.

"I have a vast understanding of what the world revolves around, and I know it's not me. I'm selfish, that's all I said. You too are selfish, you just show it in different ways." Phil pondered this around a bit, before gaining a somewhat accepting look on his face. He understood what I said, therefore, thank god, no more arguing. He started the car back up.

"I get what you're saying, okay? Let's just go to my place and you can crash there. I don't like fighting with you, so let's forget it until the morning," Phil reasoned. I nodded. "Oh, but don't think this conversation is through with, it's just put on hold."