Paradise Blvd. Year One

Chapter Eight

Friday

It was a small town and that's why she hated it. Everyone knew everything about everyone else and it was apparent. She was on her old bicycle, which Marion had managed to fix, delivering flyers to the talent show. Lucia knew there would always be eyes staring at her, but she couldn't have prepared for any of it. Maybe she deserved it for being the only suicidal girl in town who decided to be vocal about it. Why couldn't she have just smiled and been pretty like every other girl?

Lucia stopped in front of the clubhouse after she was done with the deliveries. Marion had stayed behind at Town Hall to help with rehearsals and Forest was, well, rehearsing with his sister's band. The clubhouse was eerily quiet. Normally, when Troye was pissed or sad, he'd play The 1975 so loud the police would come. This time it was just quiet.

She hoped he was fine, they needed a host for the talent show and this was his chance to rebound. Every time Troye got sad, he'd get back with a bang. Lucia should've known that this was the biggest of them all.

She unlocked the door and stepped into the house. The kitchen was messy, cupboard and drawers left open, as if someone had broken in. Lucia decided to get quieter and slower as she opened the door to Troye's room. She found him unconscious on his bed and Marceline was sitting next to him. "Marceline," said Lucia.

Marceline looked up at her. "Call everyone."

•

After about fifteen minutes, everyone was there. Tulip was there first, since she'd been in the backyard garden all along. She was distraught, but she did her best to hide it.

"What the actual fuck?" said Forest after Marceline told them what had happened. She had found Troye lying on the floor of the kitchen after taking several prescription drugs.

"He's fine, now. I know how to deal with ODs," Marceline stated.

"We'll talk about that later, but fuck if he's fine!" Marion exclaimed. "You don't do something like this over a guy you knew for five fucking days! I don't care how close they got or whatever, we can't lose each other."

"Is that why you're leaving next year?" Troye asked softly. "Yeah, Flynn. I know about the writing scholarship you got and accepted. He's finishing senior year overseas and he wasn't planning to tell anyone of us. Know how I found out?"

"That's not what we're talking about right now," said Lucia.

Troye sighed. "Alright. And I didn't take all those drugs to kill myself. I didn't take 'em 'cause of Esau, either."

"Then, what is it?" Lucia asked. "You can talk to us."

"Does it matter if I don't?" Troye asked. "Walker hear can read minds, so why the fuck doesn't he probe into my mind and just tell you anyway."

"I'm not gonna do that," said Forest. "Stop changing the subject."

Troye closed his eyes to keep the tears in. "When shit happens - bad shit, no matter how small - it feels like nothing good will ever happen to me. I don't know if you understand me, but when one bad thing happens and I get sad about it, my mind just replays everything in my life that's saddened me. Everything, all at once and it fucking sucks. I just wanna numb it, sometimes. That's why I use."

"You're not gonna use anymore," Marceline stated. "I'll make sure of it myself if I have to, but if you're gonna get better, you start now. You're gonna clean yourself up and you're gonna go host that talent show, by hell or high water. And I'll see everyone else later."