*I wrote this while waiting for comments on my second announcement.
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The orange tinted booze slipped down your throat, setting the small glass back down on the counter top quite loudly. Throughout the noise of the bar however, the glass was nothing but a background sound. You felt the liquid burning your throat as it traveled down, down into the depths of your insides. Your liver was surely going to be punishing you later for this.
In front of you was the bar, where long lines of different beers, wine, and other alcohol were placed carefully and in a manner that was pleasing to the eye. You couldn't help the feeling of wanting to drown yourself in toxic as you wanted to burn the misery out of your heart.
Amongst the spacious part besides the bar were tables, chairs, and a pool table. Various people walked into the strong aroma of beer and sweat, before heading off to their seats and getting themselves drunk while watching the latest football game on the TV that hung above the bar. You however, weren't here just for the time of your life and getting drunk for the fun of it.
The events that took place earlier today was still on your mind, graciously adding to your will of getting yourself knocked out before heading back home. You recalled what happened and can't help but wonder why the world was so against you...
You left the house shortly after eating your morning breakfast of two pancakes, with a side of oranges. You were heading off to work today at Rose Capital, a retail store that sold various arts and crafts items. Although you hoped for a better job after finishing high school and going into college, you couldn't help the universal fact that retail is the best type of job for rookies out there. You evidently had no choice since you needed a source of income, but the store you worked at seemed much better than the other stores that college students were living off of, such as McDonalds.
After locking the front door of your apartment complex, you headed off to your car before noticing that a ringing noise emitted from your purse. Sighing, you slowed your pace as you began fishing out your phone.
Who the fuck calls at six in the morning? If I didn't have a job, I'd be sleeping in until twelve in the afternoon.
You finally got a hold of your smartphone and took a look at the caller ID. It read "Sisterly Sister" and you quickly answered. It was your sister, calling all the way from New York, while you were currently staying in California.
"Hello?" you answered as you opened the door to the back of the car, placing your other belongings on the chair.
"(F/n), something terrible happened." your sister's serious tone took you to surprise. Normally when she called, her giddy and happy spirit would slightly make you cringe, though you didn't mind at how happy she must be. However, it seemed as if something was happening, and it involved you.
"What? What happened?" you asked as you got into the driver's seat of your car. You knew better than to be on the phone while driving without some sort of Bluetooth or earphones, so you sat there, waiting eagerly for her response.
"It's about mom, she..." your sister's words were cut off before your heard a slight sob.
Fuck.
"What's wrong with mom?" you asked so anxiously. You didn't want an answer but at the same time, you needed to know what was going on.
"She collapsed at the retirement center..." her voice trailed off as your eyes widened. You stared straight in front of you, eying the large building in front of you which was your apartment complex. You couldn't move or think for a while.
"Is... is she okay?" you finally got the courage to speak.
"(F/n)..." you could tell that she was about to cry. You braced yourself for the worst.
"She didn't make it."
Vivid memories of the heart breaking conversation earlier today filled your drunken mind. What made it worst was that you didn't have enough money to fly back to your hometown, so you couldn't even attend your own mother's funeral. It enraged you so much. But at the same time, you couldn't help but cry to yourself in pain as the thought of your mother was gone from this world, broke your heart. Most of your family lived in Hawaii and the flight cost was expensive to the point where you could only visit every Christmas. They also couldn't buy you a ticket since they'll be spending all the money on the funeral, so you were out of luck.
You didn't go to work today. You called in and they let you take a few days off since it was "personal matters." When the call between you and your sister ended, you sat in the car, feeling the tears bubbling up in your eyes, and you exploded in large sobs and punches at the steering wheel. You were a mess.
You sighed once you realized that you were wasting money on booze the whole night. You couldn't help it though. You wanted something to keep the event off your mind, but even when you were drunk, you still thought of your mother.
Fuck this... can't even go to my mother's funeral.
You realized that you had no reason to stay any longer. Any more of drinking tonight, you'll be broke and pass out on the sidewalk while getting home. You also realized that you had no ride home, so you were going to have to walk. Drunk.
You grew even more frustrated, but you tried not to think much of it as you started to gather your belongings. You said good-bye to the bartender, who wished you a good evening and safe trip home. After walking out of the busy pub, you checked your phone to see what time it was. The letters read "11:40PM."
Damn, it's late at night and I'm walking home alone while drunk. Is that even safe?
You tried to push your paranoia to the side and began walking down the desolate streets, passing by many closed stores and shops along the road. It seems that the place you were drinking at was the only place open a around this time.
You wobbled a bit frequently from the booze that was causing your slight vertigo and unsteady stance. You feared that you'd pass out on the floor, or get kidnapped from a serial killer, chopped up, and left in the forest. Because of that, you were almost always looking behind or to the side of you, fearing that one would come out of the shadows.
Although you were drunk, you couldn't help but gather all the left over feelings from today and dispose of them from the tears that started to well up in your red tinted eyes. You were so tired from today. Even if you didn't go to work, all the overwhelming feelings were sucking the energy out of you, and it laughed as it looked back at your helpless and vulnerable state. You didn't know how to cope with it all.
You realized that you were walking home alone drunk while crying. If anyone were to take a glance at you, they'd think that you just suffered from a breakup. But it was far worse than that. You were suffering the great loss of someone who was your mother, someone who took care of you every since you were born. Someone who was there for every step of the way throughout nearly your whole life, was gone.
All you could do now was hope that you'll be fine. Maybe cry a little more at home too.
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A few days passed after your mother's death, and all you did was stay at home, chugging down a few beers every now and then, and frequently sitting on the couch crying your heart out. It was indeed a crisis for you.
You didn't know when you'd be back at work, but you hoped that they wouldn't fire you for taking such a long time to recover. You planned on coming back next week, despite the fact that you might be in the same position, no matter how much days passed on. Your mother's death would never escape your broken heart.
A sudden ringing emitted from your phone, the ringtone slightly reminding you of the call from when your sister told you about the news. Sighing, you sat up and took ahold of the buzzing phone on the glass coffee table. Looking at the screen, the caller ID read "Jean" with a horse emoji next to it. You pressed the pick up button and rose the device to your right ear.
"Hello?" you didn't know that your voice was so raspy. You haven't talked in a few days, but you remembered that you've been drinking so much during that time.
Damn, it's like the beer burned my throat like acid.
"(F/n)? Where've you been? You haven't been at work recently." a deep male voice came from the speaker.
Jean was a close coworker of yours from the store you worked at. You first met him when you asked if the store had any job openings, and you immediately got in. After that, you both grew the relationship to a brother-and-sister type of connection, him being the closest friend you've ever had after graduating high school. You were surprised that he was also a college student attending the same university as you, but never saw him around. Ever.
"I've been at home. I took a few days off since..." your voice trailed off, your mind telling you not to admit to your mother's passing. You really didn't want to say it, but you also didn't want to worry him.
"Since?" he waited for your continuation of your explanation. He seemed obviously concerned since you haven't even told him about it. It was as if you were a phantom that suddenly vanished from the living world.
"... It's just personal problems, don't worry." you tried your best not to spill the beans to him, since you really didn't want to talk about it.
"Can you tell me?" he asked, trying to get information from you with persistence.
You weren't in the mood for an emotional breakdown. Again.
"Jean, I really don't... wanna talk about it."
"Are you sure? I'm just looking out for you, you left so suddenly and you didn't even bother to tell me... is it really bad?" you could hear the sadness in his voice, and it pained you a bit. You didn't want him worrying about your drunken, emotional self, so you tried to slowly drive the conversation off to a different topic.
"It's bad enough that I needed a break. Is everything okay at the store?" you finally found a small window of shifting topics.
"I'm coming over." he stated it so bluntly, quickly shutting your window of attempt, before you started to hear shuffling and movement. He was probably calling you with earphones, but that didn't matter right now.
"Wait, Je-"
"Don't even try to stop me. If you're gonna try to get me to forget about all of this, I'm not giving in. I'll be over in twenty minutes." he suddenly hung up, and you felt as if you pissed him off. But that wasn't important right now. He was coming over and going to interrogate you for questions, which would put you at risk for another breakdown. You didn't want to talk about your problems - you weren't ready. And you knew that your body couldn't handle restless crying, not again.
You stared at the freshly open beer bottle on your coffee table, the liquid screaming at you to drink it. You didn't take a sip from it just yet. You could get drunk and drive him away before anything happens, which was an idea that popped into your head just now. Or you could suck it up and deal with what was going to happen once he reaches your door.
You were strongly frustrated, and so in anger, you picked up the booze and headed over to your kitchen area, before shoving the bottle into your fridge and slamming the door shut. Maybe you'd tell him to fuck off and leave you alone, but you obviously couldn't do that. He was your best friend, and you knew that he was only doing this because he was looking out for you. So you really couldn't blame him, since you'd probably do the same thing for him as well.
All you did was sit there, waiting anxiously until you heard the knocks at your door that alarmed you. You sat up and headed over, slowly. When you reached the door, you took a deep breath, feeling your heart pound so loudly through your rib cage. After composing yourself for a minute, you unlocked the door and opened it, revealing a slightly soaked male with a dark grey hoodie on, black skinny jeans, and worn out shoes. You didn't realize that it was raining outside, but all you focused on now was Jean, who stood before you with a worried expression on his face.
"(F/n)..." he eyed you so sadly, seeing how much destruction you've done to yourself. Your hair was a mess, your clothes were wrinkled and baggy, and your eyes were slightly puffy red, with dried tear stains on your cheeks.
You didn't say anything, but instead you welcomed him as you stepped to the side. He took off his jacket and shoes, leaving them on the rack to dry off for a bit. You closed the door behind him and just stood there, ashamed and embarrassed. You didn't have contact with anybody recently, so having him see you like a complete wreck made you uncomfortable.
"You have a lot do explaining to do." he lead you to your living room area, taking a seat on the couch and egging you to sit down next to him. You slowly complied, walking in a zombie-like matter before plopping down onto the seat.
"I..." you stammered at the first word. You couldn't even say a whole sentence without stopping or stuttering. You really did feel pathetic.
"Do you think that I don't care?" Jean looked at you with a small glint of anger. You could tell that your actions were making him feel as if you thought that he didn't worry about you. But the reality was that you couldn't speak about your mother's passing. Not yet, at least.
"Can you tell me now?" his eyes weren't glinted with anger anymore, rather it was filled with want and sadness. All you did was glance at him before you started staring at the coffee table, seeing the reflection of the ceiling fan above you.
"My mom..." you finally said, giving yourself a small praise mentally at your small but hard effort to speak. Maybe you were able to tell him after all.
He waited patiently for you to finish.
"She, she coll...collapsed." you started to feel the familiar sting in your nose. Shit, you were gonna cry soon, and in front of him, too. He could tell that you were on the verge of breaking down when he saw that your eyes were beginning to water.
"She died..."
After those words, you really couldn't hold it in anymore. The tears broke free from your eyes, and they began streaming down like a waterfall. You whimpered slightly before wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. You were hurting so much. You wanted to get back to that drunken state once more, the one you'd been in the day your mother died. That's all you really wanted at this point, and you silently cursed at the beer bottle sitting in your fridge unscathed. You swore that you could hear it laughing at you as it said "You should've drank me!"
Jean started rubbing your other arm, before you leaned towards him, causing him to wrap his arms around you. You whimpered, cried, and sobbed, letting the warm tears fall so solemnly. He didn't say anything for the time being, maybe because he thought that he should've been more sincere and kind earlier. He didn't mean to be demanding, all he wanted was to know if you were okay. In all honesty, he missed your loud laughs and awkward moments with customers at work, which was the main reason why he came over. He was both missing you and was concerned, but all he could do now was comfort you in your broken down state.
After a few minutes of pure cries and sobs, you started to snuggle and rest your hand atop of his. You didn't realize how much comfort you wanted.
"I was drinking a lot," you managed to say in between sobs. At that he instantly tightened his arms around you, giving you a sense of security and compassion. "I couldn't help it... I was so sad."
"Are you gonna visit for the funeral?" he cooed, subconsciously kissing the top of your head. Although your hair was slightly messy as if you hadn't showered for days, he noticed the sweet aroma of roses from it.
"I can't..." you sobs got a bit more intense, as you began to unknowingly hold hands with him now. "I don't have enough... money."
"(F/n)..."
Jean felt so bad. He didn't know that you were suffering such a loss, and he felt like an ass for interrogating you so much. He cared though, he wanted to know of you were okay, and you obviously weren't. He was stupid to not be more kind and loving towards you. However, the hug was all he could do at this point. He couldn't bring back your mother, he also couldn't pay for a ticket back home for you - he was nearly in the same financial situation. After all, college students only make enough money for themselves around here.
"I'm so sorry."
You didn't reply. However, your sobs and cries were starting to get better, as you felt yourself calming down slowly. After a few more minutes, you stopped crying, and only the sound of your sniffles remained. You didn't know if it was him that was calming you down or your body, telling you that enough was enough.
"Are you feeling better now?" he looked down at you before resting his chin on the top of your head. Although such an act would cause furious blushes and stuttering to you, you weren't exactly in a "normal" state, so you didn't mind of it at all. In fact, his comfort was something that you really needed, and it took you a while to realize that.
"I think so." you slightly whimpered, fearing that you'd start crying again and make him go through those agonizing ten minutes once more. He didn't dare to release his arms or move - all he did was keep you in his embrace, and hoped that you would be fine after he'd leave later on.
"Do you want me to stay a bit longer?" Jean was getting slightly nervous, he felt his heart starting to race at the thought of you in his arms. Your crying earlier distracted him from his other feelings, but now that there were barely any noises, his realizations started to come to him. Paranoia washed over him once he assumed that you were able to hear his heartbeat, which was now fast-paced and erratic.
"Can you?" your voice was still as raspy as earlier, but you said the words in such a sweet tone. You wanted him to stay for most of today - you didn't realize how lonely you've been for the past couple of days. You were deprived of love, and you wanted it from him unknowingly.
"Yeah, anything for you..." you looked up at him after his response. You saw the glint of kindness and security in his golden orbs, as well as a loving smile that he had specially reserved for you.
You didn't say anything as you continued to stare deeply into his eyes. He could notice that your breathing turned back to normal, as you weren't frequently moving so much from each breath you took. You felt at ease now, as if the hands of hope had guided your lost soul. Now, all you needed were the hands of happiness to lift up your spirit, but you had to wait for that.
"I'm sorry for causing you trouble," you broke the gaze before resting your head against his chest. You could smell the aroma of petrichor that stained his grey t-shirt, which was a V-neck that was slightly damp from the rain. "I didn't mean to make you so mad..."
"I wasn't that mad," he replied with a small smirk. "It just bothered me that you weren't around anymore."
"Why?"
"I don't know, I just felt... lonely I guess." Jean looked to the side in slight embarrassment. He could feel all of his natural emotions coming back, a tidal wave of reality drowning his city of comfort. He's always had something for you... he didn't know what it was, but he knew that he wanted to become something more than a friend to you. However he couldn't confess these doubted feelings yet - you were vulnerable and exposed, and it wasn't humanly to take advantage of someone in that state. Perhaps he'll tell of his feelings later on, when you'd be on the road to recovery.
"Aww, you missed your best friend, huh?" you chuckled a bit.
"Of course I did. I'd be an ass if I didn't," he sighed a little before returning the small laugh. "Besides, I really wanted to see you again..."
He could fell the heat rising to his cheeks and the beat getting faster in his chest. He didn't want to expose too much of what he felt - he feared that you'd take it in that way, so he chose his words as careful as he could.
"That's so sweet," you lifted your heard and looked up to him once more. "Thanks for comforting me, you really are the best."
"Like I said, I'd be an ass if I didn't." he smiled at you again. His smile was what brought you hope, the feeling that we must go through in order to carry on. Hope, the concept of accepting something tragic, yet looking to the new future that is born...
And Jean hoped that, eventually, he'll be apart of yours someday.