TRIGGER WARNING: Some scenes in this chapter contains very sensitive material. Self-harm is the main topic mentioned. If you feel uneasy and/or feel a change in your mood, please feel free to STOP READING immediately.

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THREE YEARS AGO

"We're beyond fucked if the truth gets out."

"No one will say shit."

"There's no video evidence."

"Just don't mention the fucking contest."

"We're getting shut down, anyway."

"This sucks. We're not the only house who do this."

I didn't say anything.

I just sat there in the chapter room of the fraternity house, and listened to my former brothers talk.

Someone innocent just died because of our stupid fucking tradition, and they were more worried if we'd get thrown in jail.

The University of Florida chapter of the Alpha Alpha fraternity was getting shut down indefinitely, which automatically made us 'former members.'

Seven of us who were there in the room that night got charged with involuntary manslaughter. Our defense attorney, provided by the brotherhood's alumni, advised us it would be best for everyone if we didn't mention the contest. He convinced us that it would help no one since it was an accident.

I kept my mouth shut because I wanted to believe it was an accident. It still ate me up inside.

"You okay, O'neal?"

I shrugged. "I'm still alive."

There was an eerie silence.

The oldest one of us cleared his throat and said, "I heard about the suspension. That sucks, bro."

I took a deep breath.

The university released a statement earlier this week that I was suspended from the team until they decided on what action was best to make. It made news everywhere, even ESPN kept talking about it. In everyone's eyes, I was that quarterback who got way in over his head and finally fucked up.

Boo-fucking-hoo.

As far as I was concerned, I was no longer part of the team. Never liked them, anyway.

"It is what it is," was my only reply.

"Do you think they'll still let you play in the future?"

"Don't know, don't care."

I was tired of this shit storm.

"Hang in there, man. The charges will be dropped soon. After that, we can all put this behind us."

I frowned. Mauri's family didn't seem the type to just give up. They looked determined to get justice.

"How much are we offering for settlement?"

"I told the lawyer that money is no matter as long as he makes all this go away."

"Nice."

"I can't wait for this to be over."

I just wanted this nightmare to fucking stop. I wanted to go far away where the nightmares wouldn't follow me.

* * * * *

I kept my eyes on the window, looking outside.

Oz just stood there, waiting for me to say something – anything. But I remained silent.

"Why?" Oz asked, his voice cracked.

I didn't answer him.

I heard doctors, nurses, and patients passing by outside. The beeping from the heart monitor was the only sound inside my hospital room.

"Alfie, talk to me," he pleaded quietly. "Please."

Still, I didn't reply.

"I knew the pressure was eating you up, and then the shit with the frat happened but..." He paused to take a shaky breath. It was weird hearing Oz this undone. "But did you really have to do this?"

My jaw clenched, trying so fucking hard to keep my face straight. I felt the back of my eyes sting, but I willed the tears from coming out.

"What the fuck are you trying so damn hard to get away from?" he demanded.

"Everything." I breathed hard through my nose, while a tear escaped. "I want to get away from everything."

"Even me?"

My nostrils flared as I tried to even my breathing.

"Even Connie?"

I shook my head and closed my eyes. "I don't know what it is, man. I just know I want it all to stop."

I didn't understand it myself. Why did I feel so fucking lonely? Why did I feel like it was all too goddamn much? It was suffocating.

I couldn't breathe anymore.

I just wanted to breathe.

I wanted to be free.

"What can I do to help? Tell me anything, and I'll fucking do it." He stepped closer to my bed. "Just—Just let me in, Alf."

I wanted to. But even if I did, nothing would change. At the end of the day, I'd have to deal with my own shit. And then, I'd be suffocating all over again.

"I don't want to lose you."

Oz dropped to his knees and grabbed my hand. His head lowered, and he rested his forehead on top of our hands. I frowned when I heard a sob.

"You're my best friend. I can't lose you."

This time, I wasn't able to stop the tears. They kept on pouring out while I bit my bottom lip and tried not to make a sound.

I remembered the times we played pranks on other people. I remembered that time I totaled my first car and he was with me. I remembered the times he had to save my ass from getting too much in trouble.

He always had my back – no questions asked.

"Please."

Damn it, Oz.

How the fuck could I say no?

"Okay."

* * * * *

Everywhere I went, eyes were on me.

I was used to people looking at me like they were afraid I'd disappear. Here in the south, football players were treated like fucking gods.

But not if that football player was involved in the death of another student.

Now, people were looking at me like they couldn't believe I was still here. This had been going on for more than two months. I was fucking tired of this.

I left campus to meet with my dad. This was the first time I reached out to him after he got out of rehab. When I told him it was important, he dropped his schedule and flew across the country to meet me.

I entered the restaurant and spotted him. I ignored the looks I got from the adults as I walked over to his table. Without greeting him, I sat down.

"Hey, buddy."

"Hey."

"I'm glad you called me."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I had no one else to call."

He nodded. "What do you need?"

"Do you still have your connections in Harvard?"

He looked taken aback. "Yes, why?"

"I have a favor to ask."

"Anything, son."

I winced, but I schooled my expression just as quickly. My eyes wandered down to the table between us, hesitating. Asking him would mean I had to lower my pride. But fuck, I wanted to leave this goddamn place.

What was pride when I just wanted to kill myself?

Perhaps a new scene would help me survive.

"I want to transfer."

* * * * *

The camera flashes almost blinded me, but then it wasn't something new to me. I raised my head and eyed each camera pointed to my face. I cleared my throat and nodded.

"Good morning, everyone." I took a deep breath and just let it all out. "In light of recent events, I've come to the decision that it would be best if I permanently quit the UF football team."

There was suddenly a roar of questions and cameras flashing, but I raised a hand.

"I'm thankful for the opportunity that the University of Florida has given me. I'm thankful that I was one of the lucky ones to have experienced their football program. I'm thankful for the coaches and the team. And I'm truly sad to say, this is the end of the line for me in SEC football."

"What do you mean by that?" one of the reporters asked loudly.

"I'm transferring to a different school next fall."

"Will you still play in other conferences?"

"If given the chance, yes," I answered.

But we all knew that was a load of bullshit. No coach wanted me to play on their team with all the shit I pulled on here – publicly.

"Where will you be transferring?"

"That's something I'd like to keep to myself."

"Is your decision influenced by the fraternity incident that led to another student's death five months ago?"

Yes. "No."

"Why are you transferring?"

I'm running away. "I've decided that it'll be in my best interest that I do."

"Is it true that you attempted suicide not long ago?"

I stopped. How the fuck did that get out? I kept my face straight as I looked at the reporter who asked.

"No, it's not," I answered. With that, I looked at my father's lawyer and nodded.

He stepped up to the podium and addressed the room full or reporters, "Thank you for coming here today. That'll be all."

I stood up, ignoring the bombard of questions they still shouted at me. I exited the ballroom and walked in on an empty den. I let out a sigh, but then I stopped when I saw my best friend with his arms crossed standing near the fireplace.

"Transferring, huh?"

I didn't answer.

"Where?"

"Harvard."

He whistled. "Pretty far."

"I need a new scene."

"I get it." He nodded. "Will you be okay there?"

I chuckled, walking across the room and leaning beside the window to look at sunny Florida.

"Better than here," I said.

I saw him move from my peripheral, stopping when he was beside me. He faced the window, and we watched people go on with their lives outside.

"Will I get my best friend back?" he asked quietly.

I smirked at him. "Miss me already?"

"He's been gone for a while now," he replied, turning to me. "So yeah, I miss the jackass a lot."

The smirk slowly disappeared from my face, and I brought back my attention outside the window.

"Don't worry," I told him.

When I turned to face him, I slapped his shoulder and flashed him a small smile.

"He'll be back."

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Warning: Long author's note ahead.

I did not revise/rewrite this chapter. I'll do it as soon as I'm able, I promise. For now, I'm not really in the proper mental state to do so. It could be writer's block. It could because I'm feeling restless. It could be that I'm not ready to tap into this side of Alfie because I know that it's so easy to sink into this hole but so hard to get out of it. 

Long story short, I'm not feeling very well. I wanna cry all the time and I don't even know why. I honestly hate feeling this way. I'm grateful that at the beginning of this pandemic, I was feeling fuckin' A and was able to produce so much creative juices that I was able to not only finish Connie's book but also almost finish Alfie's. But now, the feeling of being trapped and having nowhere to go is catching up to me. I'm just so... bleagh.

I'm very sorry to do this to you again but I've decided to take a break. It won't be for long. Tainted Me's outline is already written and done, anyway.

I just need to recharge, unwind, and start anew. Maybe write offline when I can again.

I'll upload the last two chapters I've written unrevised in the next couple of days. I hate doing things half-assed and I mostly hate letting you read less than perfect chapters so I really don't like doing this. But I also just don't wanna revise when my heart isn't in on it. Because guess what? YOU, the reader, can feel it. And I don't want that.

Don't worry, though. I'm going to semi-end it on a good note so it'll be a good season ender. ;)

I hope you understand.

And thank you.