To the Beat of My Heart

At The Very End

Clay doesn't come back to our room. Which is... good? I don't know. I thought I was ready. I think maybe I'll never be and that doesn't matter. I didn't have the strength to call. I just wasted away in the same spot. It's like this physical... pressure crushing down on my head. I felt lacking and then there were these... lapses, I guess spikes of longing. An aching loneliness, a need to have someone here to hold me. And the one person that should be is the last person on the planet who wants anything to do with me. It feels like a lifetime since I saw him.

Is this it? Do I just never get to be in the same space as him, ever? Do I see his face on the news and that just... destroys me. I—

My phone starts ringing. Chelsea. It's... I said I needed someone. If I can't lean on Chelsea, then who?

"Fletcher, oh honey," she coos as soon as I answer. "I'm so relieved you picked up. Like... don't get me started. We've... we've weathered a storm before, hon. You know we have."

"This is different," I croak.

"No. The details are different, but it's the three of us fractured and... look, Clay ran from us. He wanted nothing to do with us."

"He wants nothing to do with me, that's for bloody sure..."

"Maybe. But you let me in. I know you must be so alone right now. My heart is throbbing, baby. Cracking and splintering and... I wish I could be there with you. I am so thankful, to God, to you, for picking up."

"So you seriously thought..." I run my hand down my face. "You thought I'd ghost you like Clay?"

"I don't know. Maybe not that extreme but it's a very... raw time and—"

"Oh, save it, Chels. I'm not in the fucking mood."

"Be angry. Feel something. Take it out on me if you have to. I'll bear it. Just talk to me. Listen."

I sigh, wondering what the fuck I actually say now. Maybe I do that. Just listen. Have another voice on the other end. A lifeline.

"I don't believe any of it," she says, almost rushed, like she had to plant her flag just in case. "I know whatever the hell happened, you would never intentionally hurt Clay."

"Doesn't fucking matter," I say, forcing the words out. My throat is horribly dry and cracked. "I encouraged it. I didn't stop it. I... Fuck, I'm so messed up."

"But you love Clay, that much is true."

"Yeah," I say, sourly. "Tell Clay that."

"He does know that. Somewhere. Have you two spoken...?"

My silence is her answer.

"I thought so." She lets out a long, pained sigh. "He's processing. You two will get through this."

"Jaz said the same. I don't fucking know. I'm just gonna... sit here and hate myself some more, and then... something happens, I guess."

"If you sit on this and nothing gets done, oh you better believe I'm hopping on the next flight to Italy and kicking your boys' asses into gear! Don't you dare doubt me! I did it for a guy I barely know. You boys are my everything!" Her voice softens, breaks, even. "Ignore me. I'm so... It doesn't matter how I'm doing. I just worry about you. I don't want you to hurt alone."

"I'm kind of trapped here. Don't fancy seeing Kai or Ansel. Everyone feels like a villain. Clay can't avoid me forever. His stuff is still in our hotel room. We have less than two days before we're out of here. I'd say I'm scared but right now I'm just... numb."