Gio

My mouth is dry. I'm breathing, but it's like breathing underwater.

I don't know what I've done to deserve her.

I feel like... life, is playing a cruel fucking joke. Teasing me with a sinister smile. Giving me a glimpse of everything I've longed for and is waiting for me to grab it, just to yank it away.

I can't fool myself that this life was meant for me. I can't let myself.

I don't go inside after Celia. I stay under the lemon tree, on the patio chair. The cold cuts into my jeans, sticky with humid, autumn air. There are howls in the distance, and crickets nearby.

The faded laughters behind the glowing windows of my house tell me they're waiting for me. The night's not over yet. We're supposed to go to Oscar's house.

Heavy footsteps on grass break my thoughts and I look up to find Arthur, approaching me.

Out of breath, his exhales as icy clouds. Cheeks red as always. Stinking of cigarettes and alcohol.

"You alright?" I ask.

"Oh, yeah." He sits beside me and leans back, sighing. "Just needed a break."

"Hm."

Silence. It's weird, how after all these years, there's an unbroken familiarity between Arthur and me. My first friend. From my past life.

"Who would've thought we'd end up here, huh?" He sighs again, apparently thinking the same.

"Yeah." I chuckle.

"Do you ever wonder what happened to the other ones?"

"Sometimes."

"And what do you think?"

"Uh, I hope they're okay," I think out loud, remembering their faces, one by one, like flashcards. "I know they had issues—"

"Issues?" Arthur laughs. "They were assholes!"

"Probably for a good reason," I shrug. "You think kids are born that way? I don't think so."

"I think some kids are born with a permanent damage inside their heads."

I snort at his language. "And you think we aren't?"

When he stays quiet, I turn to look at him and find him frowning. Eyes too sad for my comfort.

My knee starts to bounce. "So... you and Chanel, huh?"

"Oh!" He laughs, looking down like a flustered teenager. "God..."

"Pining after a married woman... shame on you."

"It's not like that, they're not together! Okay?"

He panics while I laugh, holding my stomach.

"But seriously..." I squint at him. "Chanel?"

"Celia?" He mimics.

I chuckle, looking away.

"Mhm." He waves his finger. "I see you two. Flirting and shit... good for you, man. I got to say, I've never seen you more happy."

"You haven't seen me, Arthur. Period."

"Yes, I have."

"When we were kids." I remind him.

"And you're still the same." He says. "Shutting yourself out. Not feeling any joy. Being alone."

"Shit. Thanks Arthur, so sweet of you." I deadpan, making him awkwardly laugh. "No, seriously. You're the third person to shit on me today. Is this a Thanksgiving tradition in your town? You shit on people? Yeah? Do we write these speeches in advance? Because I want to prepare next time. I'll shit on all of you."

"Jesus Christ..." Arthur's laughter dies down. "Marilyn was right, you do have anger issues..."

"And you're asking to get punched." I warn, watching the realization settle on his face. "How about you stop being a wuss and ask Chanel out? I was nauseous watching you two eye-fuck each other during dinner."

"I'm not going to ask her out." Arthur laughs.

"Why not?" My voice turns quiet. "Arthur?"

"Because, man."

"Are you just looking for a fuck?" I can't conceal my surprise. "Wow."

"No!" He laughs, eyes-wide on me. "Jesus, man. You think I'd do that?"

It's so easy to fluster him. "Then what?" I ask.

His eyes drift away, focusing on the stars.

"I'm not going to waste her time like that."

"Why do you think you'd be wasting her time?"

No offense, but I worry about it being the other way around.

"You know what I'm talking about." He rolls his eyes.

"No. You're tripping. You're a catch. You're just being dramatic, as always."

"Do you ever just feel like you can't win?"

He asks like he's thought about this a thousand times. I don't answer, hoping he'll stop.

"Like, do you ever feel like you're running in an endless circle? You know what I mean?" He laughs to himself. "I went to school, got good grades. Went to college. Majored in something. Oh, so impressive. I got praised. Everyone was like, look at his broken kid who made something out of himself. So proud. Bravo."

My pulse throbs in my throat, I swallow the painful lump.

"Then I got a job..." Arthur drawls. "I worked hard. Perfect employee. Worked my ass off. Everyone said I'm strong and independent. I thought now I'd feel good enough."

"Arthur..." I whisper.

"But I... I go home every night, and I take this... uniform off. I look in the mirror and I, I hate myself." His voice gets soft, eyes brimming with tears. "I am still that broken kid and I hate that I'm so stuck. But that's not even the worst part!"

He shakes, gaze frozen at nothing, full of terror.

"The worst part is that I can see the door. It's open. I can leave. I can get out of here. I can just fucking accept that the nightmare is over and move on. But I can't. I can't. I don't want to."

My throat closes up like an iron grip.

I grimace, stretching my neck back for some relief.

"So you know what I do?" Arthur looks at me coldly. "I turn around. Face the wall. Shut everything out. It's easier that way, isn't it? Just ignore the open door. Make yourself numb."

"Excuse me?"

"You and I..." He leans in, whispering. "We're still in that orphanage. We're still stuck there."

My pulse pounds. I want to punch Arthur in the throat. He needs to shut the fuck up right now.

"I didn't know you've changed professions." I seethe, feeling my nostrils flare. "Congratulations Arthur. But I don't remember signing up for therapy!" I growl out, getting up.

"See, you can't even admit it, buddy!" Arthur stands up, following me down the backyard.

"Get the fuck away from me." I grit, holding back from hitting him.

"Don't you wish it didn't fucking happen?" He rushes beside me as I pass the house and go to my truck. "Huh? Don't you fucking wish you were normal, Gio? Because I do! I hate that this happened to us!"

I stop and shove him back. He almost falls, but stumbles.

"Enough!" I yell, my voice rough. "No! I'm not like you, Arthur. I fucking moved on! I don't sit and think about everything that's happened. What's the fucking point? It doesn't matter!"

"It does." He steps close, more confident than usual, catching me off guard. "It fucking matters... It fucking matters, because it still makes me feel like shit. It matters, because it caused me to watch a mother get hurt and I didn't do shit about it! It matters because I could've stopped it. I could've been better. But I'm not. I'm not better."

"Fucking stop..." I whisper, walking backwards.

I reach for my jacket and helmet from the backseat and go to my bike.

"You're not fucking getting on that." Arthur come close, trying to threaten me.

"Get the fuck away..." I laugh under my breath, straddling the bike.

I put on my jacket, then my helmet, adjusting the straps. "I need to cool off. I won't be too long."

"You drank, Gio. Don't play around." Arthur watches me intensely. "This isn't like you."

"I assure you that I'm sober. I'm still a father, Arthur." It's true. In fact, I've never been more sober. Which is why I need to ride.

"Wait!" He puts his hands up as I twist the throttle. "Please... just wait a minute."

"What?" I sigh. "I'm just going for a ride, Arthur. I'll meet you at Oscar's."

"Please. Just wait. I'll be right back." Arthur waits for me to nod, then runs back inside.

I groan, fixing up my gloves. A part me wants to leave, but I can't be a total asshole to him.

"Okay! She's here." I hear Arthur and look up to him walking towards me with Celia. "She'll go with you."

She's changed into her leather jacket and jeans.

Her boots hit the dirt with a snake-like grace, eyes cold as she stops before me.

"What are you doing?" I murmur.

"Babysitting."

Arthur nervously laughs. "We'll meet you guys at Oscar's. Don't take too long!"

My eyes haven't left Celia's.

She stares back, not giving away anything. I almost ride off without her. But I stay put. Not because I want to. But because I can't move.

She sits behind me, wrapping her arms around my torso. I twist the throttle as hard as it'll go, deafening myself with the ripping roar.

I twist it again, and again, and again. "Hold on." I warn Celia and turn, thrusting out of the gate.

We get on the main street and take off.

Celia cries out, clinging to me for her dear life. I feel guilty, but I don't want to stop. I need the engine blasting my eardrums, need the icy wind against my jacket, need the blur of the ground.

Thick clouds pass the moon, slow and threatening. Celia pushes her chest against my back, holding me. And somehow, I calm down.

I fall back into that fuzzy, warm place where things like this feel real. Where I'm not alone.

I slow down, do one of those zig-zag tricks that she likes. It always makes her squeeze her thighs around me and laugh. I also, almost smile.

A car on the left pulls out of his parking spot and tries to do a U-turn.

He'll stop. I'm going full speed in front of him.

I'm the only one on the road and he's driving right in the middle of it. Not stopping.

Three second away from crashing⁠—

I jerk to a stop, the wheels screeching to a desperate, last-moment halt.

Inches away from the driver's door.

The fucker hits on the gas pedal and drives off.

I freeze in shock for a second.

Oh, hell no.

"Gio!" Celia screams as I turn and chase after him, gunning fast. "Stop!"

She hits my arm, but I don't fucking stop.

He passes under a red light, really trying to get away. I almost laugh. Fucking idiot. I itch to smash his window as soon as I get near.

I go faster, passing the light. The wheels don't even feel like they touch the ground. The fucker realizes he can't outrun me and slows down, stopping in the middle of the road.

I jerk the bike to a stop next to him and realize there's a fucking woman in the passenger seat.

Both shitting bricks, staring at me like I'm about to murder them. I flip my helmet shield up.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"I, uh, I'm sorry..." He squeezes his shoulders, raising his hands. "I didn't see you⁠—"

"Didn't see me?" I stretch my neck down. "Then pay fucking attention! There are people living here, you could've killed someone!"

Thunder rumbles above. I look up to stormy clouds flooding the sky.

Raindrops fall on my helmet.

Great. It's raining. Now we're too far from home.

The only place I know nearby is the church. I could ask Chase to pick us up from there.

"You okay?" I ask Celia over my shoulder.

I can't see her face behind the tinted helmet. She nods, but doesn't say a word.

There's no time to waste. The rain might get worse. I don't want the bike on the wet ground, especially after what just happened.

"Hold on." I leave the car behind and flip my helmet shield down, turning the bike.

I speed up the rolling hills where the houses are scattered, eventually leading to that church.

Standing tall with gray walls, one side is illuminated with silver moonlight. The twisted trees around are in deep green, their branches fighting the wind, their leaves rustling.

All I have on me is my pocket knife. Looking around though, there's not a soul around.

I park on the side, so no one driving by notices us. Celia takes off her helmet and I'm about to chide her, but she tilts her head back and lets the raindrops hit her face. Her eyes close. Eyebrows bunch and lips part, and I realize she's trying to calm down. So I shut my mouth.

"Let's go." I murmur, taking her hand. We climb up the stairs, then head inside.

The thunder quiets into soothing, white noise as I shut the heavy, wooden doors. Darkness surrounds us in a deep, blue haze. Lighting sparks behind the tinted windows, splashing reds, greens, and yellows on the walls.

Incense wafts my nose as I take my helmet off. The empty, wooden benches to our right and left. The marble nave leading down to a small podium, with an altar table and statues.

Two long, rectangle tables stretch by our sides. Each flooded with candles. Countless of them, at varying lengths, flickering with gold warmth.

"Aren't they scared of this place burning down?" I grumble.

"How?" Celia turns around and laughs. "The only souls to come here when no one's around to witness and applaud is me and you."

"That's pretty dark. More dark than usual."

"No, it's not. Why is it dark?"

"Because. This is a place of worship. Not a theater." I conceal my scowl as she starts to laugh.

"Do you realize who you're talking to?" Her smile fades, eyes back to cold and serious.

"I don't mean your dad..." I realize regretfully. "I meant people like your grandma. She still comes here and prays, doesn't she? It's a place of comfort for many people."

"Comfort?" She raises a brow, eyes glinting wickedly. "Yeah. I'd say so."

She tilts her head, studying me. I shake mine.

"Are you okay?" I step close, running my hand through my hair when she stares at me blankly. "After what happened? We almost crashed."

"And you chased after him. Did you not think for a second that he might have a gun?"

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to lose my cool. I shouldn't have put you at risk."

"Hmm." She pulls her lip between her teeth, thoughts someplace else. "Yeah. It's like you weren't even on that bike, huh?"

"What?"

"Were you?" She steps closer "How are you, Gio? After what happened."

~ A/N ~
Sorry for the heavy chapter everyone, thank you so much for reading <3