❝I tried to write your name in the rain
But the rain never came
So I made with the sun
The shade
Always comes at the worst time❞

The moment I shut the front door behind me, it felt like I'd walked straight into a lion's den. Featuring unaware lions though.

Aiden had returned home ahead of me, having taken the subway back (I assumed) while I'd loitered around in Times Square and indulged in a stress-infused pizza craving at Joe's Pizza joint. By the time I got home, it was nearing 4 p.m. and I was met by two, very confused and inquisitive looks from people I hadn't been expecting to encounter.

"Hey," Aryan was the first to speak up, waving me over from the couch where Evan sat next to him. The two looked cozy together, until I walked in of course, putting in some distance.

"Did somebody die or something?" Evan asked next as I reluctantly plopped down between them. "Aiden came in a couple hours ago and hasn't left his room since. Aryan and I went in and he's just furiously working away at some commission he's taken up and said he 'doesn't want to talk about his feelings,'" Evan said, making air quotes.

Another relentless wave of guilt hit me.

"Yeah, that would be my fault."

How could Aiden even confide in these two, given he was protecting my secret identity as ErosInk? I felt even worse, knowing he had to keep it for my sake.

"Did he eat anything?"

"Not as far as I know," Aryan answered, exchanging a look with Evan before continuing in a more cautious tone, "I don't know what happened between you two but I think you should try and talk to him. He seemed really...upset."

"Upset's a mild way of putting it," Evan snorted.

I punched him in the shoulder, earning a glare.

"What are you even doing here? You should be at work."

"Oh, I called in sick."

I stared at him. His face was as perfectly handsome as always and completely snot-free.

Evan rolled his eyes and added, "As if you haven't called in sick on a day you just wanted a break."

I narrowed my eyes at him then looked at Aryan, giving him a smile. Wasn't hard to figure why Evan wanted a break in the first place.

Nevertheless, I excused myself and got to my feet, walking down the strip of hall to Aiden's room. Technically, our room now but it certainly wouldn't be tonight if I let things continue this way.

I knocked on the door first out of decency.

"Aiden, can we talk?"

I thought I heard the typing stop. I definitely heard footsteps walk over. The shadow underneath the crack of the door told me he was standing right on the other side.

"Please, give me a chance to explain myself. I honestly...I didn't mean for it to come out the way it did back there."

I bit my tongue. For a writer, I sucked at talking about my feelings to the person who was hurt by them the most.

Sighing, I leaned forward and pressed my forehead against the door.

"You have to realize...what I said...it's nothing personal."

The door suddenly jerked open and I fell forward, straight into Aiden's chest. His hands wrapped around my shoulders to steady me on instinct before he let go, dropping his hold on me and stepping back quick.

My gaze flew up to his face and I knew instantly, I'd said the wrong thing.

"What do you mean it's not personal?" Aiden sputtered in disbelief.

His voice came out louder than he thought it would and I brought a finger to my lips, urging him to keep it down.

"Everything you said was personal, Harper. Your decision to not work with me was personal."

"That's not what I mean. I..."

My brain swum with everything that had occupied my heart; the pressure of having to get things straightened out for Lukas's care; the job offer that had fallen into my lap at a time when the market would guarantee me none; the offer to adapt the work closest into my heart for the masses; and of course, my undeniable feelings for Aiden.

All of it coalesced together into one hectic, indecipherable mess of emotion and logic that I couldn't find a way out of.

But I had to.

There are no takebacks in life, Harper. Dad's words rung through my head.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, grounding myself once more.

What was real? 

Family was real. Lukas needing me was real. The fact that I had no job or income to sustain me was real.

What was make-believe?

The world I'd written into existence online was fantasy. Bringing that world to life through a webtoon at the hands of an artist who saw things in a way I could never fathom was foolishness. And my thinking that Aiden and I could actually amount to something together was pure imagination.

I couldn't go off probabilities right now. I couldn't afford to.

"Are you going to say something or are you just going to stand there, Harper?" Aiden's voice trembled with hurt and frustration.

I opened my eyes, struggling to maintain composure, the turmoil within me threatening to spill over.

"Again, Aiden, it's not personal," I said, my voice now calm but icy in an attempt to create a shield to protect myself with "But we've been living together for over three months now and nothing's changed for me. I—"

"Nothing?" he half-shouted and I flinched.

Aiden moved closer to me till he was standing right in front of me, his face red and hovering over mine. This close up, I could see it wasn't anger that drove him but the sadness that took over his eyes, transforming his grays to quickly crumbling stones.

"What about us? Has that amounted to nothing for you too?"

I gulped and pressed a hand to his chest, pushing him back with a shove that came out harder than it should have.

"This isn't about you. I just can't risk my future on a whim, Aiden. Especially not with an artist whose vision clashes with mine."

Aiden winced, his words dripping with bitterness.

"And you say that's not personal?"

His sarcastic retort stung, igniting something within me. I felt a surge of rage, unbridled and raw.

"Unlike you, I have responsiblities Aiden," I snapped, my tone turning sharp and defensive. "I'm not some lone wolf with zero family to give a shit about. I have a responsiblity to others, and I can't afford to indulge in romantic fantasies anymore, real or fake, while neglecting them."

There are no takebacks.

My dad's voice came to the forefront of my mind as I took in the look on Aiden's face. He stumbled back, looking visibly rattled.

"Real or fake. Right. Gotcha."

My stomach dropped and I tried to backtrack, "Not that I meant 'real or fake' in terms of my feelings for you. I meant my writ—"

Before I could explain further, Aiden cut me off with a loud, obnoxious laugh.

"Of course you mean your writing."

Every cell in my body wanted to choke him for the tone he just used.

"You got something to say?" I spat, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Oh, I've got plenty Harper," he started, giving me a bruised grin. "I just think it's real rich of you to constantly accuse me of running away and hiding from reality behind my art when you won't even own up to yours. You hide behind your excuses and you're too scared to embrace anything that could offer change."

His accusation pierced through me, unearthing an ugly side I rarely let surface. I stepped forward and jabbed him on the chest with my finger and he winced but did nothing to stop me.

"You don't understand!" I shot back, my voice escalating with each word. "You paint pretty pictures in your room all day with the fallback of your family's money. Hell, you're living rent-free in your family-owned apartment and you're telling me off? You have no idea what real struggles are!"

I thought I heard footsteps behind me.

It was a fleeting thought as I grew distracted by the sight of Aiden's face shifting from hurt to disbelief.

"You think I don't know what it's like to struggle?" he repeated, his voice blank.

"The only reason you're a full-time artist, Aiden, is because you can afford to be. Not all of us can pursue it like you do. You live in a fucking art bubble filled with pretentious ideas of art and reality meaning the same thing because to you, it is," I spat, my anger boiling over, words laced with unintended venom. "Because you have never lived the reality of a fight for survival, to be torn between dreams and responsibilities!"

"So this is what you think of me."

His voice wavered, set in resignation.

"You think I'm some second-rate artist that doesn't deserve to be one in the first place because of my privilege. Is that it?"

I blinked, the redness thrumming in my eyes slowly simmering down. Where I saw red, he saw blue and I realized then...the weight of every single word I'd said. Words I should have known better than to hurl, knowing the power they held to make or break a soul.

And in this case, I'd done the breaking.

A hand curled around my shoulder, pulling me back and not gently. I turned to see Aryan, his expression one of pure anger. And it was directed right at me.

"Harper, leave. Now."

I turned back to look at Aiden as he turned away from me, retreating back to his desk, his eyes reflecting the devastation my words had caused. Regret churned inside me, a bitter realization of crossing a line I could never uncross.

Evan lingered in the doorway, torn between the palpable hurt in Aiden's eyes and my own emotional turmoil. His indecision mirrored my own sense of chaos.

Expecting Evan to follow, I moved towards my room, but he closed the door behind me, leaving me to stand alone in the hallway. I leaned against the wall, tears welling up, realizing the irreversible damage I'd inflicted.

Of all four of us in the apartment right now, Aiden had been the only one to know about my writing. He'd been the only one to challenge my views. He'd been the only one to make me grow and yet...I'd dug up old wounds in the face of my own fears and hurled it straight at him.

And this time, not from a place of healthy challenges.

Was it even worth it?

____

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Song: Daddy Issues by The Neighbourhood