ROLL WITH IT [g.way x reader]

Chapter 20: Gone

a/n: big warning for this chapter!! it contains a description of a suicide, so please beware if you want to proceed. i don't want to hurt or trigger anyone. it was difficult to write and i think it's a bit difficult to read too.

You could feel that there was a general suspicion that something was up with you from the atmosphere; even Jimmy Urine, who never had any fucking self awareness spared you some odd glances, as you went through the airport. You didn't bother explaining your tear streaked face, avoiding all questions regarding your miserable expression, and your entire messy, upset presentation.

By the time you got to Georgia, you were completely exhausted, again, but this time emotionally as well. You locked yourself in the hotel room again, refusing to see anybody, and spent half the night crying till you fell asleep — you woke up on the floor, the next morning, because somebody was knocking furiously.

You crawled out from under the sheet you'd yanked off the bed before, and stumbled over to the door, opening it slowly to see Harvey; "Finally! Fuck, you're going to be on in three hours—!" he paused, observing your appearance, before mumbling, "Jesus Christ, are you alright? You look—"

"Like shit," you finished with a mumble. "How long will it take to get to the venue?"

"An hour and a half, about." Harvey responded; then he placed a hand on your shoulder, and asked carefully, "Honestly, you really do look like you've just come back from Iraq," he half-laughed weakly, "did something happen?"

She'd never love you unless you were perfect. She never would. Never.

"I don't want to talk about it," you whispered, pulling away, "I'll be ready in fifteen."

"Oh," your answer only made Harvey more worried, and just before you shut the door, he added on, "we're carpooling with Placebo so we can save time, by the way!"

That piece of information didn't help. You didn't want to see anybody right now.

Nevertheless, you ended up going to the place, in a car full of loud, drunken musicians, which didn't help your mood. You were glad to get out of the vehicle when you arrived, and instantly went into your own van, and sat in the corner, as Harvey began to organise the preparations; there was a depressing atmosphere due to your obvious discontent.

"I don't want to sound like a jerk, but you might want to wash your face," your manager implied meekly, as he gave you a jacket to wear on stage.

"Yeah, I know," you replied with a sigh, rubbing your eyes, before a thought occurred to you.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, and went to your messages, ignoring how you'd deleted and blocked your mother's number yesterday, instead clicking on Gerard's icon to text him.

You:
Hey there's no
need for you to
pretend to be
my boyfriend
anymore

Gee:
Oh
Ok
Did something
happen?