- Friday, November 10th -

"You're up." Finnley frowns as soon as he notices me entering the kitchen, where he's currently seated with a book. Off course he's reading a book. Although I haven't seen him reading a book in ages. At least, not a book that's not for school.

"I'm feeling surprisingly good." I admit with a shrug. I'm still a tad bit drowsy because of the meds, my head is heavier and by now I know I have a black eye, my nose is swollen and there's a nasty looking cut at my lip. I don't look great, I'll have to admit that.

"No headache?" Finnley's still frowning a bit.

"Painkillers are my best friends right now." I place the bottle with pills on the table opposite from where he's seated. "Are you mad?"

"No." He shakes his head to put some power behind the word.

"Then why didn't you sleep in my bed, or my room for that matter? You seemed pretty upset with me last night."

"Charlie and... Sydney... helped you. He clears his throat awkwardly. "Your parents picked you up at... my parents... home." He's seemingly having trouble speaking Sydney's name out loud, or to call his parents... his parents.

I nod, taking a seat across from him.

"You saw Sydney."

"I did, very briefly. Charlie wanted to speak with me alone."

Finnley swallows, breaking eye contact, watching towards his book.

"Why?"

"What did eh... You know... Did Charlie say anything... about me?"

Is he fishing for something? Does he know what Charlie told me? If he does, or has a hunch, does that mean Charlie spoke the truth? Finnley is acting weird right now.

"I'm a bit fuzzy in my head, if you want to know something, you'll have to ask a clear question."

Finnley clears his throat, shuffling in his seat, acting uncomfortable. "What did he want to talk about?"

"You, and what happened." I admit, scratching the back of my head. "I might have called Sydney out on abusing you..."

"He called me a liar, didn't he?"

"Not with the exact word... but yeah, he said it's a lie."

"Do you believe them?"

"No. I believe you, I don't really know why, but I do."

Finnley snaps his head back up, staring at me in disbelieve. "You believe me?"

"Yeah. I trust you to tell me the truth. It is the truth, right?"

"I really wish it wasn't..." he mumbles before he sighs deeply. "And for a very long time I didn't really think about it. I was only seven and I sort of managed to forget most details. Out of sight, out of mind, you know?" How can he talk about it so... void of any emotion? I clearly remember the tears he shed when he first told me in that car. Whenever that was. Or the tears that came instantly when I told him I still remembered that he told me, only yesterday. Yet here he is in front of me. Talking about it, like he's sharing todays weather forecast with me; like it's not a big deal.

"But then Sydney stood in front of our door one day, shortly after I got home after being abducted. I was already having a shit time at home as you know. And he just had to come and throw my past in my face. I started dreaming about it again, I started having flashbacks. Honestly, there wasn't a moment in my life I wasn't reminded of what happened."

"But why doesn't Charlie believe you? I'm sure he knew about it, right?"

Finnley shrugs, before he shakes his head again. "I told him during summer because he never knew the real reason. We fought because I freaked out against dad for accepting Sydney back into his home. Not just that, but also the fact he moved back in with my mom. I told Charlie why exactly I freaked out so much. At first, he believed me, but then I think he asked mom or dad or Sydney himself. I don't know. But he called me, called me a pathetic liar, told me to choke on my lies and go fuck myself."

"That does explain why you suddenly started fighting."

"Yeah." Finnley sits up straight, closing the book, before staring at me. "Do you really believe me?"

I shrug and nod, smiling carefully. This isn't a good thing. It might be good that I really do believe him. It's the worst thing that I believe he's been abused by his brother. It's even worse to think Charlie is calling him a liar and neither Sydney, nor his parents told Charlie the truth. Talk about liars.

- Friday, November 17th -

"Hey, eh, Cris?" Oliver sounds hesitantly over the phone, even though he's the one that called me. "Are you able to come over? I think Finnley's losing his mind."

"What do you mean, losing his mind?" I sit up on my bed. I woke up from taking a nap because Oliver is calling me. In the past week, my parents got me yet another new phone after losing mine. Finnley and Nathan took me to the police to get a new panic button, also filing a report about the fact I got attacked, probably by Jeff; although I'm not sure about that because I still do not remember what happened.

"He eh... He drank a bit too much." Oliver sounds awkward and the information he gave me, causes me to frown.

"It's two in the afternoon."

"Yeah... I know." Oliver sighs deeply. "And I know you're supposed to keep quiet for a while and you didn't go to school because you had a bad night..." he drawls.

"Why did he drink in the middle of the day?"

"He's been getting texts and phone calls and he doesn't want to bother you with it because you might feel guilty."

"Feel guilty for what?"

"They probably found his phone number in your lost phone, right?"

"Wait, you mean the texts aren't coming from Charlie?"

"No, I think Jeff. But Finn won't let me read them." Oliver is obviously annoyed by that fact. "Anyway, I could use some help, honestly. He isn't drunk or whatever. But he had a bit to drink and I don't think he's gonna stop drinking anytime soon."

"I can't..." I groan in frustration.

"What do you mean you can't?" He sounds pissed a bit. "We're talking about your boyfriend, remember? The guy I'd love to date for real, but can't because he wanted you? You know who I'm talking about, right?"

"I know." I roll my eyes because of his sarcasm. "First of all, I didn't stay home for nothing. Second of all, I promised my boyfriendI wouldn't go out by myself anymore, since last time nearly ended badly. Finn will probably be worse after a fight because I broke my promise."

"I'm picking you up."

"And who's watching Finn?"

"Jason's with him."

"Okay, that would work, I guess. I'll get dressed."

"Well, hurry up because it's not gonna take me ten minutes to be at your place."

"It's a fifteen-minute drive from school to here."

"Finn isn't at school and I'm already on my way because I figured you needed transportation."

"Oh." I frown for a second, before I realize that means he will be here any moment and I'm in my boxer shorts. "I'll rush to get dressed, see ya in a minute."

"Just hurry, princess. I'm impatient because I hate leaving him along when he's in one of his moods." The line goes dead after that. I guess he really is impatient in a moment like this. I scramble out of the bed, hurrying to put on some decent, clean clothes, brushing my teeth in the same time as I fix the mess that's called my hair. I'm in the middle of a weird routine where I take in my meds, checking out my reflection to take in the damage of last week's beating, all the while slipping on my shoes, when a car honk sounds out front.

Guess he's not coming in to pick me up, but then again, why would he?

I grab my wallet, phone, meds and a hoodie, dumping everything in my backpack, before I grab my keys and hurry outside.

I lock the door, ignoring impatient Oliver, still honking the horn every so often, while I'm already in view.

"God, could you be more annoying?" I grumble when I climb in the car; that is, by the way, Finnley's car and not Oliver's.

"Could you be any slower?" He retorts with a frown. "You head nearly ten minutes and you still didn't manage to look decent."

"Hey!" I send him a cold look. "No insults."

"There's toothpaste on your lip, idiot." Oliver grins while I feel my face flush a bit, using the side mirror to get rid of the toothpaste. Oliver already drove off the second I closed the door, so I buckle up quickly.

"What kinda mood is he in?"

"The worst." Oliver instantly sounds serious again, no hostility in his attire or words. "The kind where everybody needs to die and leave him alone." Oliver shortly sends me a look.

We remain silent for a while, me feeling awkward to be in a car with just Oliver, even though we kind of agreed on being friendly together. I try to start some small talk the first five minutes of the ride, then I give up and slump down, starting to become nervous because even Oliver isn't sneering stupid jokes at me, or insulting me in any way. He's just driving, consumed by his own thoughts.

"Where is Finn, by the way? You said he isn't in school."

"Remember Adam?" Oliver sends me a pitiful look, that's causing me to push myself back up in the seat, staring at him with wide eyes.

"Did he...?"

Oliver shakes his head. "He didn't cheat, if that's what you think. Adam called me, like he's always supposed to do when Finn shows up. But he only does it when Finn is fucked up."

"And he's fucked up?"

"Remember I promised you I would let you know if he was having a bad day?"

"Uhu..."

"Today's a bad day."

* * * * *

My nerves are indescribable after Oliver told me Finnley is having one of his bad days. Since we slept at our own places, I haven't seen him since yesterday afternoon. He was supposed to come over after school, but apparently, he decided to skip school for today and head over to Adam to drink. Good thing Adam called Oliver when he noticed Finn was losing his mind over something.

The flight of stairs, the long gallery on the eleventh floor, the beautiful view over the city; I all pass them without paying attention to it. I'm just following Oliver towards the right door, which is already left slightly ajar for us to get inside.

I swallow away my nerves, before I follow Oliver into the living room. Adam is casually leaning on the bar that separates the small kitchen from the living room. Jason is seated on one of the two couches. Both of them stare at Finnley, who's seated on the floor, in a sort of meditation-pose. Only he isn't meditating, he's holding a bottle of whiskey protectively, staring towards Jason in anger.

"Thank god you're back." Jason mutters. "I swear if he's telling me to go fuck myself one more time..."

"You should," Finnley grumbles. "and leave me alone while you're at it."

Jason's clenches his teeth, fuming in anger, leaving the living room to go and smoke on the balcony.

"Cris, meet the devil. Devil, meet Cris." Oliver points back and forth between us, causing Adam to smirk while Finnley sends him an angry look.

"Am not a devil." He hisses, before taking a swag from the bottle.

"Maybe you should stop drin..." I start, Oliver giving me an elbow in the side, silencing me without using a word.

"Why can't you all just go to hell and let me be?" He snaps, looking around him on the floor until his eyes find an empty beer bottle. He reaches out for it, Oliver hurrying forward, kicking the bottle away from his reach.

"Fuck you, Oliver." Finnley shouts. "Stop treating me like a fucking baby!"

"How..." I stare at Finnley in disbelieve. "Why is he... Finn..." I stammer a bit, causing Finnley to stare at me in annoyance. "What happened?"

"Life." He snorts, before he ends up in a fit of laughter.

I take in a very deep breath, trying to collect my thoughts to prevent from saying something stupid. Oliver warned me that he's unpredictable in his current state.

"What's different from yesterday?" Oliver speaks up, in the meantime picking up the empty bottle and whatever is within Finnley's reach. He also warned me Finnley likes to throw stuff when you ask or say something that he doesn't like.

Finnley shrugs, slumping down a bit. "I just don't wanna live anymore." He murmurs, his voice broken; in the meantime, he's breaking my heart with his remark. "It's one big mess, Oli." He lays down in a foetus-position, still hugging the bottle, spilling a bit on the floor before he notices and turns it up right, placing it beside his head. He stares fascinated at it.

"But that doesn't mean you have to give up on life." Oliver squads in front of him, pushing away his hair. "It means we have to clean up your life a bit. You know, like when your room is messy."

Finnley snorts in respond, still staring at the bottle, pulling it back against his chest as soon as Oliver moves to grab it. "I hate my life." His eyes are filling with tears. "I don't want to go on anymore."

I swallow, blinking my eyes to prevent tears from spilling.

"I'll end up alone anyway."

"Hey." Oliver nudges him, before he nods his head in my direction. "You have a very sweet boyfriend who loves you very much and you've got me. You'll never be alone; not as long as we are alive."

"Eventually I will." Finnley sits back up, moving away from Oliver, taking another swag of whiskey. "You'll see me for who I really am soon enough."

"And what is it you are?" Oliver doesn't seem fazed at all, while Adam and I silently listen and wait until he needs help.

"Worthless." Finnley's voice breaks, right before tears start to roll down his cheek. "Everybody hates me. Everybody calls me a liar..."

"What are you talking about, Finn?" Oliver sounds a little taken aback by Finnley's statement. "We don't hate you. We don't think you're a liar."

"You will." He murmurs, staring at Oliver. "You said you didn't believe me."

"When did I say that?" Now Oliver really seems surprised.

"He had a nightmare, we got that much out of him." Adam jumps in out of the blue. "Said everybody was calling him a liar and he knows you'll eventually really will stop helping him. And something "bout some brother..." Adam shrugs, clearly not knowing that the last piece of information is the vital piece to know why Finnley is acting like this.

I already feel my shoulders slump down in defeat, my heart dropping. So, he dreamed about Sydney and that's why he feels this way.

"But he won't tell us what's so wrong about a dream about Charlie." Jason tells us as soon as he walks back in. "I know they're in a fight, but still..."

"Charlie should die. Calling me a fucking liar. He's the fucking liar. And he's a bad brother. Can't believe I trusted him." Finnley mutters, staring towards his feet after he pulled his knees to his chest.

"It's not about Charlie..." I mutter, stepping towards Finnley, who eyes me suspiciously. "Finn..." I sit down in front of him, trying to get eye contact, but although he is looking at me, he isn't looking towards my eyes.

"You got attacked by Jeff, you know." He huffs, pointing towards my face. "Jeff wants to get rid of you and Emma too." His voice falters in the end and that's when he starts to really cry out loud.

I scoot closer to Finnley, putting one hand on his shoulder to see if he will allow me to come near him.

"They're gonna take you away from me and I'll be all alone again..." He sobs, not at all protesting when I pull him in my arms. He even let's go of the bottle to grab a hold of my hoodie. "I don't know what to do without you."

"I'm here, Finny." I whisper, repositioning myself so that he can fully lean against me without having to bend into painful positions. Oliver is frowning towards us, stepping in to take the bottle away from us and out of Finnley's reach. "I'm not leaving, okay?"

"They're looking for you." He's still whispering.

"Let them look." I shrug. "I'm not letting my guard down ever again."

He wipes away the tears with his sleeve. "Do you really believe what I told you?"

"I really believe you." Again, I feel sad because I wish I could change things for him. I wish I knew how to make him happy. "And I'll support you no matter what."

"I'm worthless and a cry-baby. Eventually you'll be done with me."

"Tell me what to do, Finny." I sigh deeply. "Tell me how I can prove to you that I don't think you are worthless, or a cry-baby."

He takes in a deep breath, again wiping away some tears, this time succeeding since he calmed down enough to stop crying. "I want to dosomething. I want Charlie to believe me, to know the truth. But I'm tired of having to fight alone."

"You're not alone. I'll fight with you. Tell me what to do and I'll do it."

"Do you... wanna help me?"

"Help you do what?"

"Vent my anger, my sadness, my darkness, whatever you like to call the build-up poison inside me." He taps his chest with his finger, staring at me with sparkles in his eyes I haven't seen in a very, very long time.

Finnley is up to something.

"And how would you like to do that?" I cock my head, feeling partly curious, partly worried.

"Hear me out, okay? In the car, because I don't want to back out right now."

"Back out of what?" I furrow my brows, watching him getting up from the ground. I scramble upwards while he puts on his shoes. "What is it you want to do? Where are we going?"

"I'm gonna prove that I'm no liar."