❝no more champagne. and the fireworks are through. here we are, me and you, feeling lost and feeling blue. it's the end of the party, and the morning seems so grey.
so unlike yesterday.❞
— abba, felicidad

♥

IT HURT LIKE A BITCH.

Everything hit me at once, like a harsh blow to my heart, and I couldn't breathe through the sudden searing agony. It was a tidal wave of emotions, a tsunami, flooding through my body, crashing over my head, casting me from the sleepy shore of Times Square. There were flickers and flashes, sharp, stinging pain twisted into splashes of color, droplets of blood staining memories of dread and fear and failure. I felt it digging and clawing, stripping layer after layer, gnashing through skin and muscle and bone, down to the absolute essence of my eternally fucked up existence.

My knees buckled.

It was me. I was fucked up.

I cried out, but the sound echoed around me, attacking like a relentless roar of rushing air, and I felt myself fall, staggering back, tripping, tumbling to the sidewalk weakly.

Ice walked over me.

Air suffocated me.

Silence trapped me.

I was cold... and alone.

Dizzily, I blinked, watching the empty street fade, fade, fade, watching the lights melt from fluorescent signs, watching the colors drain from millions of abandoned resolutions on those strips of paper, so fragile, so fleeting, so fucking faint in the inky black sky sitting above the skyline. A string of icy breath twisted from my lips, destroying the freeze frame of complete and utter defeat.

My nails dug into gravel.

I wasn't dead.

"Scarlett!" I shook my head, desperate to crawl out of the bleak hold I'd spiraled into. I needed to... to... "Scarlett... I..."

What was going on?

Dread filled my lungs, hanging heavy, like liquid fear, shortening my breath. New York had never felt so dead, but I'd never felt so full of everything.

Energy.

No, this was bullshit. Levi would laugh. Tomorrow, Levi would laugh when I told him about this wild trip.

"Levi!"

Nothing.

I stumbled to my feet clumsily, arms flailing, heart racing, head spinning, but when I managed to steady, I caught a glimpse of her—a trace of dark hair ghosting through the pale whiteness of a hollow city.

Her heels clicked, clicked, clicked.

"Wait," I tried to say, only for a strained whisper to escape. "Wait, no, don't leave me!"

I chased after her, but the distance between us only grew, separating us further and further with every shaky step I took, winding down the sidewalk, beneath scaffolding, through shadows and streaks of light, down concrete stairs, and finally, into the warmth of a dimly lit subway station.

Tears stung my eyes as I slowed to a stop, lost in the blurry, watery lights cascading from above. My chest tightened.

I was alone. I was alone. I was alone.

No. Levi didn't leave me.

"Nick."

A chill ran down my spine. Fuck.

There was something, something, something about that way she said my name, hanging on it with a heartbreaking apology that took my breath away. I'd never heard her say my name... like that.

Slowly, I turned, inch by inch, to find her in all her fucking glory, sitting on the edge of the platform, swinging her legs, nursing a can of Coors light, reeling me in with a soft, sad smile. Everything screamed gentle, almost forgiving, as if that was something she was capable of.

"Kay."

Her lips were red.

"Nick, I—"

"I'm sorry," I choked out, blinking when she furrowed her brows. "I'm sorry that I didn't... I didn't stay. I think that we... we can get through this." I mustered up a feeble smile. "I think we can be together."

Her gaze shifted around the station, drawing me to the strange emptiness that surrounded us. She beckoned me with another smile, softer somehow, simmering with a million secrets. "We are together, Nick," she whispered, and suddenly, I could breathe again. "Just come sit with me."

I wasn't alone. I was with her.

"I'm..." I swallowed hard. "I'm scared."

"I know." It lingered for a long moment between us, laced with a loving tone that seemed to paralyze me. I knew what was coming next. "But I didn't mean it. I won't hurt you. Not this time."

No, no, no.

A cry built up in the back of my throat, thick and gravelly, like blood, rolling off my tongue. "No, I— I... Levi said that... that's what everyone says. 'I didn't mean it. I won't do it again. I won't hurt you. I love you.'"

Hurt flickered in her eyes, always perfectly blinding and beautifully timed. "I love you, Nick."

"I..."

No.

I needed Levi. I needed Levi to tell me, to tell me, to tell me, in that annoying big-brother-knows-best voice... what was best. I needed Levi to tell me that she wasn't here, that she deserved to be alone, that I didn't need to stay with her. I needed my fucking brother.

It didn't matter if it was a knife fight, angry lesbians, pissed off bartenders, a police officer, potential jail time, or... the love of my fucked up life.

Levi would have my back.

"Levi," I croaked, spinning frantically. "Levi. Bro. I—"

"Levi left you."

Kayla didn't say it with amusement or pity. Kayla said it with a frightening amount of sobriety. Kayla told me the truth because Kayla loved to hurt me with the truth.

Levi left me.

Because I was too much fucking baggage, with or without her, because I was drunk and depressed, because I couldn't get over this bitch. How long did it take him for him to give up? When did we drift apart? How many months had gone by without texts or calls?  Was I still there, living in our apartment off Flatbush, waking up beside her, just watching her breathe deeply? Was Levi already gone?

"It's just you and me, Nick.

I had her. I didn't need Levi.

"I'm sorry," I said, but I didn't know what I was apologizing for, or who I was apologizing to. I took a step toward her, swaying slightly, blinking rapidly, pleading silently. "I can make breakfast." My voice cracked. "Let's just go home, Kay. Let's go home, and I'll... I promise, I promise, I won't leave again."

Kayla sniffled, mustering up another sad fucking smile. "Nick..."

Suddenly, it sounded wrong, different, jagged in all the right ways, full of something sweet, a rasp, nothing like... nothing like... Kayla. No.

Kayla didn't drink Coors light. Kayla didn't wear red lipstick. Kayla didn't say my name like that.

"It's not Kayla," she murmured, an apology still sinking in the soft words. "I'm not Kayla."

I blinked, and then I found her, looking so devastatingly beautiful that I could've died, swimming in the washed out lights of a train station—a streak of red and black, dark curls, fluttering lashes and painted lips, nursing a can of Coors light, and holding me hostage with a soft, sad smile.

"I know."

No one was.

"No, you're Scarlett." I drew a shaky breath. "I kissed you. I kissed you in the beginning of the night, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

—UM. HI. I'm still writing this story, yes. Sorry for the long break between updates. There are only a few chapters left, so I'm hoping to finish it up SOOOOOON!

FUN FACT: this was my favorite chapter to write so far, despite the lack of Levi 💔

Did you guys miss him as much as I did??