I’m happy for them.
And no, I’m not joking.
Great for Baz, you fell in love with your sworn enemy. And now you’re blissfully happy. Surrounded by the people you always looked down upon.
And that great. Great for Simon Snow, he had everything then nothing but now he’s got everything again.
And why is it my business anyway? The last time I spoke to Baz was the night before the Leavers ball. When I basically told him I was happy for him and he told me he couldn’t care less.
“Who are you with tonight Baz?” I tried to make my voice as friendly as possible.
“Why do you care?” He sneers dramatically.
“Err, we’re friends?” I mean, we were still friends right?
“Nobody. I’m with nobody. How about you?” He was pretending to care, like usual.
“Same as you. Why isn’t Simon here?” Were we ever actually friends?
“Simon?” His eyes instantly go dark, and he hides basically all trace of emotion.
“Well, you’re like…” It was pretty fucking obvious, I saw Simon kiss his cheek once.
“Niall, why don’t you just, like, leave me alone like you’ve been doing for the past month ok.” Jesus goddamn christ, he never actually liked me.
“I’m just saying that I’m happy for you.” May as well be polite.
“Niall, please god just fuck off.” He turned away and that was it.
But I was right. Because they were kissing in the middle of the dance floor later.
And then that was it. Maybe I was never truly “in the group”. After all, they’re both Grimm’s. Both posh, rich.
Well, who am I kidding. I’m posh, rich, one of the Old Families. But I was never “on top.
Baz is a Pitch. He’s ruthless. Perfect. He was the born leader of our little gang. And Dev was his cousin, and almost just as perfect, maybe even more so…
But when Baz left, I thought Dev would still act the same around me. Still be a best mate.
But he, well, I don’t know. He seemed ashamed of me.
Maybe I just never belonged…
And it sucks, you know. It really fucking sucks. I just wish…
But when you’re in a dingy old flat because your family kicked you out after you told them you were gay, wishing isn’t a privilege you own anymore.
I sigh, and roll off of my sofa to go make a sandwich, for lack of something better to do. And then I hear it; the faint buzzing of my phone against the kitchen side. I must have left it there last night.
I don’t remember last night, well, more specifically, I don’t remember drinking last night, but based on the beer cans littered around the floor of the sofa, I was once again chasing my sorrows into the oblivion of alcohol.
Deviant Disaster : Niall?
Deviant Disaster : can we talk?
Ginger Ninja : Talk bot wha
Deviant Disaster : are you drunk?
Ginger Ninja : Hangovr sorry talk about what
Deviant Disaster : About baz
Ginger Ninja : No
I let out a growl and throw the phone down, foregoing the sandwich for painkillers. My head’s really throbbing now, and I can’t think straight.
I’m not talking about Baz. Not now. Not ever. Dev can go to hell with his fake concern for all I care.
I hear the buzzing continue, but I ignore it and head into my room, falling face-first on my bed.
Why? Why am I the one stuck here; a grey flat with peeling wallpaper living beside drug addicts, all alone. Why am I the one who wasn’t accepted by my family, why am I the one who even needed to be accepted by my family.
What did they do to deserve to be happy?
I guess I can only speak for Baz on that part, since I don’t care enough to educate myself on Dev’s life. But two days ago I spent the whole night scrolling through his facebook profile (I actually do that quite a lot, and his tumblr…), I discovered he’s dating some girl called Maria that I vaguely remember him mentioning as ‘fuckable’, and she’s probably a member of one of the Old Families just to please his mother.
I think they have a flat together.
But I’m trying not to care.
A sigh escapes from somewhere in my throat and I give up texting him. I don’t know why I even bothered.
Maria calls from somewhere, she’s going out with her “girlfriends” or some shit.
I wish I could muster up the confidence to just go talk to him, face to face. But I know he’d just shut me out, like Baz shut us out.
I mean, I wasn’t surprised to be honest. Baz spent more time staring at Simon with so much longing it was blindingly obvious than he did trying to fight him.
And am I mad? No, fuck no. Baz can do what he wants.
I guess I just thought nothing would change between us. He’d be dating Simon Snow, and we’d still be best friends.
But no. Obviously not.
Even so, I wasn't that pissed. After all, I would still have Niall…
And then I didn’t. And then he shut himself away, from all of us. I didn’t even know he was gay until his brother told me.
I don’t know how to reach him. I don’t know how I should even try.
Whether I should even try...
And then my phone buzzes, but when I grab it, I don’t see Niall’s name on the screen.
Gay Of Shadows : What the fuck is up with Niall?
Deviant Disaster : you know that new nickname suits you
Deviant Disaster : why do you care?
Gay Of Shadows : Don’t be a prick Dev.
Deviant Disaster : i’m not the one ignoring my friends
Gay Of Shadows : Are you actually going to do this now?
Gay Of Shadows : Look Dev for the first time in my life I’m actually happy, really happy, and I’m just concerned.
Deviant Disaster : shit
Gay Of Shadows : ‘You lucky pric and i hat u y do u gt to be haapy wy cant i be hapy’
Gay Of Shadows : Care to explain?
Deviant Disaster : mate ive got no idea
Deviant Disaster : i barely talk to him anymore
Gay Of Shadows : We should go and talk to him.
Deviant Disaster : why would i do that
Gay Of Shadows : …
Deviant Disaster : no you know what baz fuck you. you don't get to be concerned after dumping us for your boyfriend and new clique. am i happy for you? yeah sure, im ecstatic. But you don't get to do this.
Gay Of Shadows : Dev, just, if you talk to Niall, tell him I’m sorry. And that goes for you too.
Deviant Disaster : thanks so much baz. but it came too late
- Deviant Disaster has logged out -
I had to get out. The walls and the grey and the sickly-sweet smell of a discarded home; they were all suffocating me.
The walls, the grey, the sickly-sweet smell of a discarded home, and the lack of anything alive but me.
I probably stink. I don’t think I’ve showered in about four days, and I’m wearing a ratty gray hoodie pulled up over my face that probably makes me look like a drug dealer. My ginger hair has gone from it’s usual red-orange to a murky brown with some orange streaks if you look close enough.
All I need is a strong coffee, then I’m going back home, ordering pizza, and not waking up for a day.
The barista at Puccino’s looks at me funny, but I couldn’t really give a shit to be honest. Who cares what anybody thinks of me anymore?
I collapse in a two-man table at the front of the restaurant to avoid anybody having to sit with me. Everybody in this shop is either an elderly couple or a four-unit family.
The coffee slides down my throat and for a single moment, the burning sensation is normal. Calming
But then I start to cough, and then I can’t breathe. I’m choking on something I didn’t know I’d swallowed, and brown liquid is coming right along up with red. Somebody is pressing a hand on my back and I’m fairly sure someone else is calling an ambulance, but my eyes are watering and I can barely see.
For a moment, I think it’s clearing up, but then the clenching in my throat gets even worse and I can actually feel something travelling up my throat. I fall to the stone floor, or maybe I was already on the floor, it’s hard to tell, and instincts take over, I start coughing as hard as I can, trying to bring up whatever the fuck is in my throat.
Black spots start swimming before my eyes, and somebody is screaming, but just before I think I’m about to pass out I can feel flakes of something on my tongue, covered in burning phlegm, so I manage to raise the palm of my hand and spit directly into it.
A spray of purple, red and white petals fall into my hands, all flecked with red droplets. I can feel more coming, and my vision is slowly going black, but I still have enough basic thought process left to register the coloured, silky flakes.
Petals. Flower petals.
I’m coughing up fucking flower petals.