xl. real life

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real life!

Silence hugs Adira, clawing at her very soul and haunting her, like she is a puppet in a sick game of clutching her heart until she couldn't take it anymore. Robbie's hand rests on her shoulder as she stares at Vicky's bruised face. Her eyes are closed, and she exudes a look of calm, like she had accepted her fate.

Her hands—wrapped around Vicky's—tremble. Her cheeks are stained with dried mascara. "Is—is she going to be okay?"

Robbie sighs. "We don't know for sure, Dove."

The familiarity of the eerie hospital room overwhelms her, but she has learned her lesson. There comes a time when life disappears. Our memories fade. Our laughter ends. Our smiles float away. Sometimes it is when we least expect it. One day we are having the time of our lives—hands waving in the air as the roller coaster twists and turns—before our world is shattered—a look of terror as the roller coaster dives to kiss the earth—and we are left to pick up the pieces.

The world stands still as Adira desperately pleads for her best friend to send her a sign. "Vicky"—she presses a kiss to her hand—"I can't do this without you. I need you. Please."

Nothing.

She suddenly stands, turning to wrap her arms around Robbie's waist. Holding him, she buries her face in his neck. Tears fill her eyes, sobs wrack her body, and a solemn truth rests in the air, patiently waiting for the right moment to plant its seeds.

"I love you, Dove. Never forget that."

"Dada"—she shakes in terror and pain and exhaustion—"I'm giving up."

He hugs her tighter, as if she was about to slip through his grasp and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Helplessness tears at his insides, like a tornado barrelling through an open field. "Dove, you're the strongest person I know. You hear me? You're not giving up."

"I can't keep doing this. I can't keep wondering who's next, Dada. I can't do it. I cry myself to sleep so much just fucking worrying about who's next. Who else is going to leave me?" With bloodshot eyes, she weeps. "Why is this happening, Dada? Why?"

"I don't know, Dove," he starts. "I made a promise to your mom, you know?" He looks down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I promised her I would look after you. Never let anything harm you. Never let anything touch you. Make sure you were always okay. I really tried, but when she died, I guess . . . I guess a part of me did, too. I was just as lost as you—"

"Couldn't tell."

He laughs. "Well, I was. I loved her so much. I've never loved someone like that. Every time I saw her I prayed that somehow, some way God would come down and put me on that hospital bed instead. She never deserved that, and you didn't deserve to lose her like that, Dove."

She nods against his chest. "We both didn't."

He runs a hand through her hair. "Dove, some days after she died, I prayed to go, too. I wanted to see her again so bad." He gulps, eyes shifting to Vicky's limp body. Memories of Julia's warm smile and laughter swarmed around him. His last words to her echoed. "I did . . . I tried . . . I tried to see her again. Downed some pills with some alcohol, and I saw—I saw her. My angel. She told me I had to stay here and look after you, and I did, and I love you to the ends and back. I hate that I tried to go—that I was going to put something else on you."

All at once, as if the emotions had all built up to this very moment in her arms, he cries. It's the first time she's seen him cry. Even at her mother's funeral, he was stoic and strong, arms wrapped around Adira and Amala's quivering shoulders. "Dada, I never . . . I never knew. I wouldn't have blamed you for going, you know? I wouldn't have. God, I saw how much you loved Mama." She sniffles. "She was your fucking heart and soul. I knew how hard it was for you. I would've have blamed you."

"I know." He releases a breath. "I don't know if I ever told you, but I cried the night I found out that bastard laid his hands on you. I felt—I feel like I failed you, and now it feels like we're back right where we started, like it's never going to end. That's scary, Dove."

"I know, Dada."

"I'm so, so scared, Dove. I just . . . I hope you know you're not alone. I hope you never doubt you have someone here with you who loves you until the end of time and then some. I love you, and I know you're making your Mama proud. You make me proud every day, too. Endlessly proud of you."

"I love you," she whispers, squeezing him.

"I love you, too, Dove."

"Adira!" a man shouts as she shuts Vicky's door to make her way to Mikey.

Her eyes widen. "Joey . . ."

"Hey," he smiles, bringing himself to stand in front of her.

"What are you doing here?" Her tone was harsh—biting—and the man flinches.

He shifts nervously. "I heard about the crash. I mean, you know how shit spreads." He bites his lip, heat rushing to his cheeks under her stare. "I just finished visiting my grandma, so I just wanted to make sure Vicky was okay."

"She'll be okay."

"That's good. That's good," he affirms, nodding. "Well, how are you?"

"We're not friends, Joey," she scoffs, rolling her eyes. "You asked your question. I gave you your answer. That's it."

He shakes his head. "Adira, please," he begs, reaching for her arm.

She quickly backs away from his reach, almost burned by his touch. "I'm going now, Joey. Stay away from her."

She takes the seat beside the bed, eyes watering and hands shaking as she threads her fingers through Mikey's.

Exhaling loudly, she starts. "Mikey, I remember the first time I met you when we were shooting the you and i video. You were so shy, and Aden just started babbling to you, then I came over, and I guess I just never let you go. We were all so happy. I miss that. I miss us so much. I miss when we played Twister, and you laughed so hard you peed your fucking pants. And when I got mad at you for some shit I don't even remember so you got a mariachi band to serenade me. And when you farted in a sandwich bag and gave it to Aden, and he put it up on his fucking trophy shelf.

"I miss it, Mikey. Every day.

"And I think a part of me feels guilty. You wouldn't be here if you weren't so worried about me. I . . . shouldn't have did what I did. I knew that when I did it, Mikey, but—but sometimes my head wins. Sometimes my head wins, and I think I deserve this pain, and I never want to push my pain onto you, but I guess—I guess I couldn't protect you from pain this time. I would turn the fucking world to protect you from this pain, Mikey, I swear. I swear I would.

"But I . . . I just want you to know how much I love you, how grateful I am for you. I—I don't think I would be alive right now without you. I wish I told you just how much I fucking love you. I wish I told you every fucking day. God, I hope you know. Even if I didn't say it all the time. Even when we fought. I love you to the moon and back. I love you so much it hurts.

"I'm going to fucking drown without you.

"Please don't leave me yet."

She bawls, raising their threaded hands to her forehead and calling on someone to hear her plead.

        Please.

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