It was dark out once we’d left The Cage, which did nothing to assuage my anxieties. If there was one upside to everything that had happened today, it’s that I had become more acclimated to the strange atmosphere of Bucktail. While the poverty and drug use were as blatant as the sky is blue, they weren’t exactly the type of people to be hostile to outsiders. At least, not to Gwen anyway. It’s possible that she had enough of a reputation on this particular block that no one really felt the need to bother us out here. This is all to justify myself standing out in the open, right in the middle of now dark streets with her.
Gwen needed a cigarette before we went on our way and decided that it would be fine to start smoking right next to her parked car. While I did feel the urge to argue for our safety, I hadn’t really said anything about her performance after she left the stage so it was hard to speak up. I just couldn’t find the right words. It had to come from the heart, sure, but perhaps the longer I took the less likely she’d believe that I truly meant it.
“You were really good, you know,” I blurted out finally. But my compliment was only enough to raise an eyebrow.
“’I was really good’? What, you couldn’t think of something better to say?”
“I mean, I don’t know. It’s hard to beat that standing ovation you got back there.”
The crowd seemed genuinely enthralled with her spoken word piece, so should know that I wasn’t lying about that much. They were hanging onto her every word with bated breath. Compared to the pieces that came before and after, hers wasn’t a poem with fancy wordplay or interesting rhyme schemes. That wasn’t the main selling point. No, it was her authenticity.
She read them out with a clear, natural voice as if she were an actress on screen delivering the most powerful monologue of her career. Intense, yet personal. It felt like we were privy to very real letters that she had written to Benjamin throughout the history of their relationship. With all the ups and the downs laid out plainly, we became a part of her world, and we became invested in the journey that the two of them had embarked on.
And yet, at my words, she merely took a puff of her cigarette then looked away from me. “I guess it does feel good to get it off my chest, but…”
“But?”
“I don’t know. It’s just all sinking in now. The finality of me and him. It’s like the wait before the performance was the last thread connecting us. And now that it’s finally over, I feel empty inside. Like I’d be better off dead.”
“Gwen…”
I wish I could say that she was being dramatic, but Ben was everything to her until now. He was her first love, and she lived off his attention and the idea of a life together with him for three years. Even if she’d finally accepted that it was all over, what did that truly mean for her? Of course it would feel like her life was over.
“Really, I can’t understand why you’re so scared of death, Tristan. It’s all I’ve thought about ever since I left the mall. I don’t know if I’ll ever love someone as much as I love him.”
I didn’t know what to say. Was she really suicidal? Should I give her some of my pills or something? They’re supposed to be anti-depressants or something, right?
“You shouldn’t…”
“What, you think I’m actually gonna kill myself or something?” She took another drag. “We’re just making conversation here. I just wanna know why you’re so scared of dying. If Zoey abandoned you and left you to rot, wouldn’t you want to die too?”
She got to the heart of it all. Zoey was the girl who single-handedly saved me in more ways than one. She saved my life, and she continued to save me from the specter that loomed over my head ever since that day. If it weren’t for her, I’d be alone with that terrifying spirit I saw that day. What would I, what could I do if she ever chose to abandon me? What would I do if the door towards a future with her was shut forever?
“Well, I don’t know. It’s hard to explain…”
“Try it.”
She seemed really determined to get an answer out of me. Far be it from me to deny her an explanation. “Well… okay. How would you feel if you never got on that stage? Not just today, but like, for the rest of your life.”
“How? I dunno, I guess I’d live a life without doing it.”
“But you wanted to do it, right? Wouldn’t you regret not giving yourself the opportunity to do it?”
“I guess? Are you trying to change the subject?”
“No, I just mean that death is like that. Sure, you could have gotten on stage and embarrassed yourself. You could’ve fumbled over words and quit halfway, you could have turned into a laughingstock. Like, a million different things could have gone wrong up there. But you put on the performance of a lifetime, and you were granted a standing ovation in response. I think that life is like, a million of these little performances. These chances to do something that makes you happy, or makes other people feel positive things towards you. It doesn’t have to be as big as performing on stage, but… there’s just so much possibility to life. And death is just so…”
“Final. Like the end of a relationship.”
“Yeah, but even in life, there’s opportunities for better relationships.”
“But none like him, Tristan.”
“Well, maybe not. But you’d have to keep living to prove me wrong. There’s always a chance that you’ll find someone better than Ben.” I leaned back against her car. “I dunno. Maybe I’m just a hopeless optimist, but I feel like there’s so many possibilities to life, you know? And death is like, the end those different possibilities. To me, that’s more terrifying than any heartbreak I could ever imagine.”
Gwen didn’t offer up a single word in response. She kept the same listless gaze as she looked on at the gas station before her, her eyes focused on no point in particular. I couldn’t tell if what I’d said was of any help to her or not. Talking about death the way she did had honestly terrified me a little. It was like she had placed the responsibility of talking her down from a really bad place onto me. And while I didn’t mind being in that position for a close friend, this was Gwen. Our connection was through an act of evil that we had committed together just a week ago. Did I really owe her this much just because I destroyed her birthday gift?
“Open the trunk.”
She reached into her pocket as she said it, and the click of the car unlocking behind us reverberated through the air.
“Uh, okay.” I pushed myself off her car and made my way to the trunk, where I popped it open with little resistance. There was a flashlight, an umbrella and some towels laying around in there. Why would she keep an umbrella in her trunk? Wouldn’t she have to step out into the rain to get it if she actually needed it? No, I shouldn’t overthink it, I decided. And anyway, there’s something more important in here. A terrible art piece of Gwen that was done using watercolor paints. Just what was the artist trying to do here? The googly eyes that bled into her skin, the misshapen skull, it’s like I was looking at something done by a five-year-old. Was this the painting she referenced in her poem earlier?
“Bring it to me,” she said without facing me.
I acquiesced, lifting the canvas paper and carrying it to Gwen after shutting the trunk. After accepting it , she stared down at it with a bitter gaze, as if she were bidding it farewell.
“You’re right Tristan. If I die now, I won’t ever know if I’ll get over Ben. And I won’t ever know if I’ll find something or someone better than he was. But I don’t think love is rational like that. Even now, I’m trying my hardest to rationalize a plan to make my way back into his heart. Not as a way to fill the hole that Zoey left in him, but as someone he truly loves the way I love him.”
She pulled her lighter out of her pocket and flicked the switch, causing bursts of spark to erupt into a cool flame that licked the bottom of the canvas.
“Gwen?”
“This is the only thing I can do. Blazing the path behind me is the only way to keep myself moving forward.“
The paper caught the flame, and slowly, those calm flames dyed the paper black as it ate away at it from the corners. The awful painting of Gwen was slowly disappearing before her own eyes, the light of the dancing fire coloring her irises a bright orange that contrasted with the usual green of her eyes.
“Take it from me.”
“Gwen?”
“Take it from me before I try to put it out.”
Those emerald eyes of hers dyed by the orange flames were beginning to leak tiny droplets filled with mourning. But it was the shivering of her hands that really forced me to pull the paper away from her. The fire had already eaten through a full third of the art piece. It was beyond salvation. I dropped it on the street a good couple feet away from her. It might have looked out of place to the one or two people who were nearby, but I doubted that anyone would ask about it unless a cop happened to swing by.
“Tristan…”
“It’s, uh… it’s okay, Gwen.”
Was this a situation where I was supposed to hug her for comfort or something? I felt like I’d be on the receiving end of more spiteful comments if I even so much as got close to her, so I decided against it. She’d probably think that I was taking advantage of her anyhow. She rubbed her eyes and sniffled a little before laughing to herself.
“Fuck. Now I’m crying as much as you did.”
“Like I did?”
“If I could see the waterworks from all the way on stage then I think you were probably having a big one down there.”
“Oh…”
Was it that bad? I did feel some tears coming on while she was performing on stage, but I was so immersed in her storytelling that I never noticed just how much I ended up crying. I moved back over to the car to be with her, and she let out a rare laugh.
“I appreciate everything, Tristan. Thank you”
“Uh, no problem…”
I was kind of embarrassed to know that I had been crying while listening to her, and that she’d seen me.
“Can I tell you something a little personal?” she asked.
“Sure.”
“I had a dream a few days ago. I was standing on the balcony of a high-up castle, wearing that dress I wore at homecoming. I felt trapped there. Like I was waiting for someone to come up there and rescue me. The dream felt like it was going on forever. I kept looking down at everyone else, enjoying themselves, having a good time. And I just stood there. Waiting. Waiting for him to come, to rescue me from that prison in the sky.”
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Gwen…”
“But I’ve finally accepted it today, Tristan. I knew it deep down, but it’s impossible to ignore now. He’s not coming. Benjamin won’t be the one to rescue me. That rosy future I imagined with him, the one where we would talk and laugh and cuddle like we did before won’t ever happen. For some reason, talking to you this past week made me realize as much.”
It's funny, but I understood where she was coming from. Our relationship was one of shared romantic trauma. I might not have loved and lost like she did, but having hacked her before, I understood just how deep the pain she felt was, and how similar it was to my own pain.
I looked down and found our hands a hair’s breadth away from each other.
Maybe, just maybe I could comfort her by holding onto her. She might think it’s creepy, or she might be comforted by it. Either way, I should at least test the waters, right? Holding the hands of a girl my age didn’t seem like a bad thing either way.
But.
Just as I nudged my hand towards hers, just as our fingertips brushed against each other, my phone began vibrating in my pocket.
“Oh, haha. I wonder who that could be?”
It was probably for the best that I was interrupted. I might have just ended up ruining the moment right then and there anyhow. It was my fault for getting ahead of myself anyway.
Once I plucked the device out of its cave, I recognized the word “Captain” lighting up my phone’s display. What could she have possibly wanted? Was she just curious about how today went? With a strange interest in whatever it was, I immediately hit the answer button and placed the phone to my ear.
“Hey. What’s up?”
“Tristan? I need you to come over right now.”
“Right now? But why?”
“It’s urgent. I’m bleeding all over and I need you to help me.”
“Bleeding? What happened?”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s just a head injury.”
“Head… what? Zoey, this is… have you called 911?”
“Tristan, it’s not a big deal. Just come over.”
“Of course it’s a big deal! How are you feeling?”
“Tristan, please… just come over.”
“O-okay, I’m on my way.”
Hearing her beg for my presence like that was difficult to fight back against. Especially in an emergency situation like the one she’d presented me with. I needed to get over to her place. If not with Gwen, then I’d get an uber. Once I’d hung up, Gwen’s head tilted my way.
“What is it?”
“Zoey’s hurt, so I’m heading over to her place.”
The vulnerable atmosphere we’d created with one another dissipated instantly. It was like I had dropped a brick on her foot just by mentioning the name Zoey. The hatred she felt for her rival, or I suppose her ex-rival, was as palpable to me as it ever had been in that moment.
“Really? She said she hit her head?”
“Yeah, and she’s refusing to call 911. I don’t know. I really think I should go check on her. I’m really sorry, but is it okay if I call an uber?”
Gwen’s dumbfounded expression was like a bag of concrete blocks to the face. I couldn’t bear to look her in the eyes, but I tried my best to. All the guilt in the world was going to war with my desire to be there for the girl of my dreams. And after a few seconds, she stomped on her cigarette after dropping it then went to pick up the now burned up piece of paper. There was nothing left of the painting that existed before tonight, and she knew it just at a glance. Even if she had any regrets, it wouldn’t be the same. She had destroyed it. Wiping her tears away, she walked over to the driver’s side of the car.
“Gwen, I-“
“Text me her address.”
Without a hint of protest, she decided that she’d help me. I expected her to be disappointed that I wanted to leave her to see her worst enemy, but she rolled with it surprisingly easily. Was it just the catharsis of being free of Ben, or the high of the performance? Either way, I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Uh, yeah. Thanks.”
Once we got into the vehicle, placing my feet in the plastic container like before, I quickly unlocked my phone and sent the location to her via text message. We began on our way with not a single word being exchanged between the two of us. Each dimmed streetlight we passed by had suddenly felt so foreign to me. It didn’t take long for us to connect onto the familiar path to Zoey’s place, but it felt so different with Gwen in the driver’s seat.
“You know, I wasn’t sure if I should have done that piece today. Sure, I had it written down since yesterday, and I did bring it with me, but… I do still love him. I can’t escape from that fact no matter what he does. But when you broke that perfume bottle, it was kinda like you broke the spell.”
“I’m really sorry about that”
“Uh, no. You’re misunderstanding. I’m not saying you ruined it. It’s more so that like… I dunno. If Zoey told you to be Benjamin for her, and that was the only way she’d love you, would you do it?”
“I don’t even want to imagine that world.”
“Well, that was my world. And I probably hate Zoey way more than you hate Benjamin.”
“Way more? You’re exaggerating,” I said.
“Like, way more.”
“Talk to me when Zoey beats you to a pulp like your Ben did.”
“Yea, but my Ben’s too stupid to get between you and Zoey.”
“It doesn’t matter. I hate Ben way more than you hate Zoey. And I like Zoey way more than you like Ben.”
She scoffed. “What? Are you fucking braindead? Did you not hear what I said on stage?”
“Okay, sure. It was good, but I could just as easily write something like that about Zoey.”
“Oh yeah? Go do it then.”
“Someday. You’ll see.”
“I’ll see, huh?” She laughed. She had laughed more with me today than I’d ever thought she would “My point is, you helped me realize that I would be miserable in that kind of relationship. We get each other, right? So if you thought it was something worth getting hit in the face over, then that he really did go too far this time.”
“I guess so.”
“That’s also why I don’t mind driving you over there. You’re worried about her, obviously. I mean, I would be if he called me late at night and said something like that. So you shouldn’t feel bad about ending the night. The reason I’m hanging out with you in the first place is because we get each other.”
“Yeah…”
We get each other. She was probably right about that. We sat in that familiar silence we’d quickly grown accustomed to. It was my third time riding with her, and to be honest, I had become weirdly comfortable with her presence. The shared experiences we have with our failed romances were a better icebreaker than any number of conversations about hobbies or interests.
“Gwen, how did you get so good at acting?” I asked.
“Acting?”
“It’s like, everyone else who performed before you did okay. But even I could tell that they were all acting. But I think what was so breathtaking about you was that it felt so genuine. Like you were just up there speaking your heart out. Was it really your first time?”
“Well, it was. But I was also speaking my heart out.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“In the first place, I don’t think good acting is real. Not the way you’re probably thinking about it, anyway. If you’re pretending, then people’s bullshit meter will go off and they’ll see through you instantly. We have a sixth sense for that. I think what people call ‘good acting’ isn’t making something out of nothing, it’s taking something from inside of you and bringing it out for everyone to see.”
“Oh.”
She did mention something about the drama club in her poem. I honestly had no idea that she was this interested in performing. Stifling that much of her artistic self just to be with Ben must have been difficult for her. To be rewarded with a love that crashed and burned like it did just seems too cruel. Wait. Come to think of it, I did have an assignment to do with my new club. Lance aside, wouldn’t Gwen would be a great actor for it?
“So uhm, the truth is, I’m working on a short film right now.”
“Wait, really? That’s awesome, Tristan.”
“Yeah. And uh, I was wondering after seeing you up on that stage today if you wanted to be in it.”
“Like, you want me to act in your film? Wait… this isn’t for the photography club, is it?”
“It is.”
“Then I’ll pass. I don’t really want anything to do with Zoey.”
“Right…”
I shouldn’t have expected anything else really. It was a long shot. I do think she’d make a really good actress though, so I had to ask.
“What’s your film gonna be about?”
“Dunno. All I know is that Lance is gonna be in it. Not sure who else though. Maybe Naomi. Jazmine is probably gonna help with filming so she can’t do it, and Zoey has the other responsibilities of the club.”
“Lance and Naomi… say, do you think that rabbit is worth it as a partner for her?”
“Worth it? I don’t know about worth it, but he definitely loves her.”
“Really? Then why the fuck’d he break up with her then?”
I laughed nervously. “Wish I knew. He won’t tell me for whatever reason. But he needs to get it together or she’ll find someone else. Lawrence was all over her today.”
“Yeah…”
He promised that he’d tell me after homecoming, but then they got into a fight and it ended up falling through. Knowing him though, it’s entirely possible that he had no plans to tell me anyway.
“What’s she like?” I asked.
“She? Naomi? Aren’t you guys like best friends?”
“I don’t really know her outside of her relationship with Lance. Today was the first time we’ve ever hung out without him.”
“Oh, that’s weird. What’s she like…? Hmm, well she’s pretty bad at volleyball.”
“Huh? Really?”
“She is, yeah. She’s a serving specialist, so she sometimes gets called in to serve when they need to stabilize the game with aces, but she’s really average at everything else. Mediocre setting, can’t receive difficult balls, can’t jump high enough to block or spike, she’s just not great.”
“But… she’s the captain, right?”
“Yeah. Her role on the team is more like… she’s like the kind of person who’s really sensitive to what other people are feeling. She goes above and beyond to be kind to the people around her and make sure that their needs are met. Someone like that’s obviously gonna end up being the captain.”
“Really? That doesn’t sound like her at all.”
“You think so? She was very considerate of you today with everything that was going on.”
“Oh, yeah I guess. I was just thinking that with Lance she’s way more inconsiderate.”
“Maybe she trusts him enough to let her empathetic side take a break then.”
“Maybe.”
I thought back to their interactions. How the playful banter would never end, how they both seemed to be going for the killing blow each time, and how it’d always end in smiles on both of their faces.
“You know, I had no idea they had even dated until recently.”
“Really?” Gwen asked. “It wasn’t exactly a secret, you know.”
“Yeah well, that’s just how he is. He doesn’t like telling me things. He played the whole thing off as if they were just rumors or a joke or something.”
“Hmmm.” Gwen went silent for a moment, pondering my words, then spoke up again. “How about this. Why don’t I write the script for your short film?”
“Huh? I mean, you’d do that?”
“Sure. But I want my payment upfront.”
“Payment? I don’t…”
“No, not money. I want you to tell me why the rabbit broke up with her.”
“Easier said than done…”
“You just need to stop being a little bitch, Tristan. You guys are like best friends. If you push him hard enough, he’s gonna have to tell you the truth at some point.”
“Don’t call me a bitch.”
“But you are, though? You’re a boring, pathetic little bitch.” For some reason, wailing on me seemed to bring a smile to her face.
“Stop it…”
She sighed. “Whatever, we’re here.”
Her car stopped at the curb beside a familiar suburban home. Today, only Zoey’s Camry was parked outside on the driveway. Was her mom out tonight? There were lights on, so Zoey herself was definitely inside. The two of us exited the car after she turned the engine off.
“Hey Tristan.”
“Hmm? What’s up?”
She paused for a moment, still staring forward through the windshield. “I’m sorry if today sucked. I kind of feel bad about inviting you to the mall after everything. I wasn’t really thinking straight, I just...”
Did today suck? Well, there were obviously bad parts about it. Touching the bruise on my face gently and wincing from the pain as I thought that just confirmed as much. But being able to hear her pour her heart out on stage like that was more than worth it. She chose me to watch over her as she closed the chapter on this love of hers. How could I hate her after all of that?
“What?” She raised an eyebrow. “I’m apologizing. Why are you smiling?”
“Are you coming in?” I asked.
“Ugh… never mind. Nah, I’ll wait for you.” She opened her pack and drew a new cigarette. “Take your time.”
“Thanks Gwen, really. I’ll try not to be too long.”
She pouted and waved me off after lighting her cigarette, taking one last puff before facing out at the street.
It was my second time standing before this grand door. She was obviously alone today, but that didn’t make it any less intimidating. It took us about fifteen minutes to get here from Bucktail after the call, so I was a little worried about what her condition was. I pressed the doorbell while holding my breath.
“Woof! Woof woof!”
It was the sound of Mao barking and scratching from the other side of the door.
My entire relationship with Zoey could be summarized by my unquestioning loyalty towards her. She claimed that she had hurt her head, and I immediately canceled my plans to be with her. Why? We aren’t even dating. She’s just interested in Dream Paralysis. I wondered what Gwen would do if she found out about my powers? Would she want me to use them for her own benefit like Zoey does?
I rang the doorbell again. What about Lance? I could see him being discreet about it, but not before getting me to play a prank or two on Naomi or on some of his buddies. Jazmine? I don’t know her too well, but I think she’d probably just laugh and call me funny until I proved it to her. I had no idea who I could really trust besides Zoey with knowledge of Dream Paralysis. It seemed that I’d just have to leave everything to her if I wanted to stay close to her. But after hearing about everything Gwen went through, is sticking to this loveless girl really going to grant me the future that I want?
“That’s weird.”
After losing myself in thought for a few moments, I realized that Zoey still hadn’t answered the door. The only feedback I had been receiving from the other side was Mao’s frantic scratching and barking. Surely, she should’ve known that I had arrived.
“Zoey? Are you in there?”
No response. The lack of any audible movement on her part was making me antsy. Was I too late? It’s not like I could get in unless she opened the door, right? This wasn’t like yesterday when the door to the clubroom was open the entire time, right? I pushed my hand down on the knob and the door, to my surprise, clicked open. It really was unlocked the entire time. Is that okay at this hour? A girl home alone at night with the door unlocked sounded like a recipe for disaster. However, without dwelling too much on these thoughts, I rushed in desperately to try and find her, wading past Mao who had been right in front of me.
And…
I was greeted by my worst expectations.
There she was, down and unmoving, lying in a small puddle of her own blood.
“Zoey…?”
---
My vision was blood red.
My thoughts were dazed.
I couldn’t really tell what was going on.
It hurt.
It hurt.
It hurt.
It hurt, but somehow, I was calm.
It was that familiar calm.
It’s so strange. It’s like my vision did a complete 180.
Who was that over there, standing in the doorway?
That frame towering over me looked so familiar.
So familiar...
It’s almost like….